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~[The Fellowbark Magical Academy]~


There is a heavy silence present in the classroom of the Fellowbark Magical Academy, present within the heart of the city. It is the premiere school for aspiring casters in this entire region, drawing in the best of the best from all backgrounds — at least those ranging from low born commoners to the upper merchant class. Nobles, as always, have their own way of doing things. Usually, nobles' children will be instructed in prestigious private academies or tutored by retired adventurers, champions, and even heroes.

“Brandt?” calls a voice from the front. “- Maxim.”

“Present,” replies a voice from the side of the room. The human girl, training to be a fire mage, lifts her hand, the beads in her hair jangling.

“Danzel?” asks the professor, going through roll-call. “- Tin.”

“Here,” replies the student on the other side of the large room, lifting his hand.

They’re present in a classroom upstairs in the center of the building, a room commonly used for the lectures on the core subjects of offensive casting, defensive casting, healing, and summoning. The room itself is longer than it needs to be, with the chairs and desks all lined up at the front as they would be in any normal classroom, but with a long, empty space behind their backs. On either side of the room are thick, heavy shelves, lined with manuals, books, and instructions on all manner of obscure magic. The high shelving is cut in half by an inner balcony that runs around the room. The balcony serves as access to the upper books, but also as a viewing platform for any tests or duels held in the long, empty space. The desks are usually moved to the side if space is needed. Capping the room off is a curved, glass-paneled ceiling that lets in the light of the sky above.

— For some types of magic, such as that of the ‘nature’ element, the sun or starlight are particularly important.

Acacia sits there with folded hands at her desk, not looking around the room, despite feeling the many heads turning her way. People are anticipating her name. So is she, truth be told. However, she’s decided to play it differently this time around. Last time, she was the shy, friendly one — unconfident and too distant, too weak to fight back against anyone who went after her.

That’s changed now.

“…Odofredus Krone?” asks the professor, already staring at her. “Acacia.”

“Present,” replies Acacia, lifting her hand.

— The person sitting at the desk next to her leans away the second she lifts her fingers, as if she were about to destroy the room.

The professor opens his mouth for a moment, but then closes it again. He purses his lips and clears his throat, moving on to the next name instead.

Sir Knight’s ‘bargain’ with the cardinal worked. She doesn’t know what happened behind the curtains, but two days later she had a letter at her door from a very confused messenger, telling her that she was accepted back into the academy, starting first thing tomorrow morning.

It seems that her reputation from her last days here has preceded her, and this new class is well aware of how she was perceived here during her last stay. The fact that she was expelled and has now returned, under mysterious circumstances that involve the high-ranking members of the church, and the fact that she is affiliated with Sir Knight, who has become a sort of mythological favorite amongst the young students, has led to one thing…

“Rheinwasser?” calls the professor. “- Vale.”

No response.

“Rheinwasser,” repeats the professor, louder, looking at a young man who is very clearly there.

The boy, who had been eyeing Acacia in vague fear from the distance, jolts together, jumping up to his feet. “HERE!” he shouts, far too loudly, bumping into his own desk as he rises entirely out of place. The people around him laugh as he awkwardly sits back down.

— She’s become sort of infamous, actually.

Acacia sits there with folded hands.

Talk from the adventurers of the guild as to how kind Sir Knight would often leave the dungeon bloody and mangled; talk from the city guardsmen of how cold she speaks and acts around him during a fight with one of the world’s most dangerous monsters — it all comes together into a single question.

That is, what power does she have not only over the person who may be the single strongest individual in this city but also over the ranks of the church itself? ‘Sickly, sad little Acacia’, as Junis, the elf, had called her.

They’re terrified of her.

Acacia turns her head.

The priestess in training next to her stiffens up like a rod, the color leaving her face.

The girl looks back toward the front.

Good.

It’s only right for a peasant to fear their queen.



_________________________________

~[Junis]~


It is lunchtime.

Junis lowers her head, walking away from the table she had been told was full.

“Can you believe it?” asks a voice from the side, hardly hushed at all as she steps away. Being quiet would defeat the point. “I used to think she was so cool. Like, wow…”

“What a loser.”

“Right?” asks another girl next to her, ‘whispering’ as Junis the elf walks by with her lunch. “…A servant girl?” she says in a shocked tone. “That’s so sad.”

“I thought she was a noble,” mutters a boy across from them.

They, being the exact same group that Junis would always sit with, rejected her as soon as the truth came out that she wasn’t rich or connected at all. She’s just some girl working a job on the side to pay for her own tuition at school.

It’s not that there aren’t other people in the academy that are poor in some fashion, but it’s that Junis spent so long pretending to be in the other group that now neither of them want her. The people from lower backgrounds dislike her because she’s a liar and would rather pretend to be something she isn’t than live in the truth like they do. The well off students, on the other hand, want nothing to do with her now that they consider her to be dirty.

Junis stands in the middle of the lunch room, looking around the area for a table.

The free spot she was standing next to fills in as the other person on that bench slides over toward the outside from where he was sitting in the middle, blocking it without looking away from his food. The girl and the boy sitting across from him make amusingly bewildered faces, hardly going through the effort to press down their smiles as they side-eye one another.

A second later, her shoe is wet.

Junis looks down, lifting her hurt leg.

“Oh, sorry,” says the girl sitting to her left, holding out her arm and an overturned glass of cider. “Clean that up, would you?” she asks, her table erupting into laughter.

Quietly, Junis just looks up and keeps walking. It’s just like at work. She doesn’t respond. If she responds, that’s when they come and take you away. Just be quiet and do what you’re there to do.

Walking to a nearly empty table, Junis looks at the girl sitting there by herself, not bothered in the least by that fact, Acacia. She’s different now than before. Last time she was here sitting alone, it was because she was a total outcast. Now, she’s sitting alone because people are too terrified to go near her, and she seems to enjoy that feeling, giving off a quiet contentedness on her face as she sips her tea and nibbles on some expensive, foreign cookies.

“May I sit at your table?” asks Junis.

Acacia quietly sips her tea, only opening her eyes after she finishes to look at the blue haired elf, who had made her life here last time a true hell. Junis sabotaged her from start to finish so she would leave the academy. The idea behind the plan was of course, well meant… sort of… But obviously, it was not received as such.

Acacia gestures down next to her, not at the bench but at the floor. “The dog’s spot is free,” she remarks with a cold pleasantness that is as sharp as a knife, the words carrying around the space, causing the people at the tables around her to snicker, holding down their laughs.

“I see,” replies Junis, quietly turning her head and then walking to the door. She’ll just eat outside.



_______________________________


Quietly limping up a staircase, Junis heads up to the top of the observation tower. It’s one of those places in the school that exists but that you’re technically not supposed to go to. It was used in older lectures on the topics of celestial bodies and such things and their effects on magic, but these subjects have fallen out of favor. The courses were cut eventually, and now the tower sits in the corner of the academy, attached but unused. The classrooms inside are a dusty mess. The old books are frayed, as it looks like pigeons and rats have gotten inside the tower and gnawed their way through the shelving. The air is thick with dust, the kind that is so old and stagnant that it paints the inside of your nose black.

Reaching the top, she opens the door to the little balcony on the outer rim of the tower and closes it behind herself.

The noise of the city reaches her up here, together with the soft winds of a new day, the gale carrying with it the hint of spring. The change of seasons is almost here.

The elf sighs, opening her eyes again, reaching into her little bag, and pulling out some bread.

She thought about eating alone down there on the stairs by the entrance or on a bench, but she finds the idea of being up here more pleasant. Down there, people will walk past her and keep making those comments. It’s not that they get to her; she’s been through much worse with the Count and her work there, at his estate. But…

— Well, no, they do get to her. She supposes that’s a lie.

Junis mumbles to herself, repeating the same thing she always does. The situation hasn’t changed. She worked at the estate so she could finish her education and get out of here, this city. The fact that she has problems here now doesn’t change that plan. She’s just going to keep her head down and push through. “Just until I’m done,” she mutters, biting into her bread.

“What happens then?” asks a voice from next to her. Junis yelps in terror, fumbling with her bread. The plain chunk of a loaf strikes against the banister as it falls, bouncing over the edge and down into the city below, despite her desperate reaching after it as it falls.

After a second, she turns her head to look at Sir Knight, who is reaching into his cloak.

“W-what are you doing up here?” asks Junis, recomposing herself.

A second later, he holds out his hand, pulling out what looks like the same exact piece of bread and holding it out to her. “How did you…”

“I caught it,” he replies, shrugging. She takes it, looking down over the edge. An armored soldier, one of Sir Knight’s, is standing down there, holding an empty vase.

Junis turns her head, looking at him with a dry expression. “…That’s a very specific set-up,” she remarks.

“Oh, it wasn’t for you,” he replies, looking back over the edge. “I’m here for something else.” The giant folds his hands, staring down over the city from above, the wind whistling as it cuts over the sharp edges of his armor, which is still deeply scarred and broken from the fight three nights ago. “It’s just your lucky day.”

Talk of a werewolf being in the city is big news, but the fact that he’s the one who fought it with so many eye-witnesses has made Sir Knight an even bigger deal than he was before. People are moving toward the city from outside of it; high-ranking and powerful adventuring parties, military recruiters, and all manner of officials are looking for the man quickly achieving pseudo-legendary status amongst the rabble of this nowhere-city.

“Yeah, it sure is,” replies Junis, biting into her bread after cautiously examining it for a moment.

She doesn’t quite understand what he is, but she knows that he isn’t… human, an elf, or anything like that. “Don’t worry. If you jump,” he says, “I’ll probably catch you too.”

“Thanks,” replies Junis. “Am I that bad?” she asks.

“No,” replies Sir Knight, watching the city. “But it’s gonna take a while for Acacia to let it drop,” he says, looking at her. “She really hates you, you know?” he asks. “I mean…” Sir Knight taps his head. “I’ve seen people hate people, but this here is some very colorful stuff,” he explains. “Very… uh… hmm…” Without elaborating further, he looks back over the city. “Never mind.”

“I assumed,” replies Junis, watching the city. “I haven’t had a chance, but thank you for saving me at the estate.”

“Not a big deal,” he says. “You would have done the same thing for me.”

“No, actually,” remarks Junis, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small piece of fruit. “I would have left you for the zombies.”

“See?” asks Sir Knight. “This is why you don’t have any friends,” he remarks dryly.

Junis quietly eats her lunch, not engaging in that somewhat confusing remark, which she doesn’t really get. The two of them stand there, looking out over the city. It’s a vibrant day. The damage from the night before has already been cleaned up, and repairs have begun, adding to the remaining repairs from the previous attack on the city. People are walking around the bustling streets, walking from vendor to vendor, going this way and that, from home to the dungeon, and from the dungeon to their homes. Life is currently in full flow here, under the midday sun.

“…For what it’s worth,” starts Junis, justifying her statement before. “I thought that you were -”

“- THERE!” barks Sir Knight, his gauntlets hitting the railing as he points down to the street.

She follows his arm in surprise, looking down at the corner he’s pointed at. Down on the street below, just next to a small three-path intersection, is another little cut-away alley that leads behind a few buildings. Out of the shadows pokes a small, hooded head. There are clear protrusions visible beneath the fabric. A vildt. They often try to disguise themselves with things like hoods to make their lives easier, but sometimes it’s just obvious. This one is a rabbit, given the size of the bumps on its head. “I got you now!” he says.

“…Huh…?” asks Junis.

The hooded figure scurries down the road, mixing in with the stream of the crowd. Sir Knight moves along the balcony, his hands running over the railing as he follows the stranger, who looks like a child, from this distance with his gaze.

Mixing into the crowd, move a few of Sir Knight’s soldiers, not in a bundle but rather dispersed. Junis watches them leak into the stream one by one, sometimes from a side road, sometimes from a tavern that they walk out of, a couple of them jumping out of moving carts. All of them begin to trail and close in on the hooded figure.

“You have an hour free, right?” he asks.

“Pardon?” replies Junis. “Is this some kind of special operation you’re helping the guards with or something?” she asks, looking back his way.

— However, he’s gone. Junis watches a shadow trail down from the top of the tower, drifting like a tuft of smoke from a clogged chimney and wafting toward the single soldier remaining below. The essence of the creature collects inside the vase the soldier was holding, as the armored figure down below also walks off into the crowd, all of them chasing after a single figure.

She’s been left alone.

Smiling a sad smile, Junis bites into her fruit and watches the crowd move on.

The elf doesn’t even have time to turn around before a shadow drops down from behind her, swallowing her whole.



____________________________________


An instant later, Junis, in terror, finds herself down in the street. Carts roll on by, people are walking in all directions, and she’s standing down there with her apple in her hand, looking up in quiet, terrified confusion at the very high tower that is a good five minutes back by foot from where she is now.

“Walk with me,” says a voice next to her. She looks at Sir Knight.

“How did you…”

“Don’t worry about that,” he replies, gesturing for her to be quiet as they walk. He looks around the road. “I want to show you something.” He waves his hand, gesturing for her to follow him.

“Sir Knight!” calls a random man from the other side of the street. “You at the guild tonight?” he asks.

Sir Knight flashes him a thumbs-up from the distance, not stopping as he follows a trail that she, quite frankly, can’t keep track of. At least until she sees them, the soldiers. Standing to the side of the road is one of them. His arm outstretched, he points down the road to the right. Then, following that path, another one stands there, pointing to the left, and so on, and so on, until they’ve followed a trail of a dozen men that leads to a building. The city guards are outside, looking like they’ve just arrived. Inside, a woman can be loudly heard crying.

“It was him! I swear!” she explains, clearly distraught. “I saw him!”

“What is this?” asks Junis quietly.

“Ma’am, are you sure?” asks the city-guardsman, taking a statement from her.

The men outside lift a hand, waving to Sir Knight. “Sir Knight, still haven’t gotten that armor fixed?” asks one of the men, watching the door.

“You know me,” replies Sir Knight. “Never a free minute.” He nods to the door. “Was it…?”

“- It was,” replies the guardsman, nodding to him.

“Please, you have to find it!” pleads the woman inside the house. “That brooch was the last thing I had from my mother!” she asks, crying into a handkerchief.

“We’re on it, ma’am,” replies the captain of the guard. “He’s been everywhere, hitting everyone,” explains the man. “We’re this close to catching him. I’ll report back as soon as we find something,” he says, turning and walking out of the door. He stops, looking up at Sir Knight. “If I see you here every time, it slowly becomes suspicious, you know?” he asks.

“I’m too big to be your thief,” replies Sir Knight.

“Fair enough,” says the captain of the guard. “Whatever he took from you must have been important, for you to be this involved,” he remarks, waving for his men to follow him.

“Who?” asks Junis.

One of the guardsmen hands her a pamphlet as they walk by. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard,” he says, as she takes the paper and unfolds it, looking at a drawing of a hooded figure with a large series of printed words over their head.


[WANTED - THE BLACK RABBIT]

A dangerous thief has risen to notoriety within the city’s walls. Known only as ‘The Black Rabbit’, they are involved in severe criminal activity.
All information that leads to any developments or arrests will be rewarded appropriately.
DANGER! IF SPOTTED, DO NOT APPROACH. REPORT TO A GUARDSMAN IMMEDIATELY.


“Damn it…” mutters Sir Knight, looking at the house and then around the area, as if what he was looking for would still be here.

“A thief?” asks Junis. “You’re trying to catch a thief?” She tilts her head. “Is this related to the count?”

Sir Knight looks her way. His helmet shakes ‘no’. “This is personal business,” he replies. Looking back away and down the alley, gesturing for her to follow him.

“Why am I here?” asks Junis, following after him and looking into the home for a moment, where the robbed woman is still mourning her loss.

“Because,” says Sir Knight, kneeling down and looking at a disturbed pile of trash that looks like somebody had tripped over it. His visor turns her way. “We all do stupid things that we think are right,” he remarks, rising back up to his feet and walking down an alley, following some sort of trail that she can’t identify. “They always come back to bite us one day.”

“Are you and Acacia connected to this, or something?” asks Junis, biting back into her apple, which had begun to brown from the air.

“No,” replies Sir Knight. “This one is just me.” He bends down, picking up a run-off grate for a storm drain, and looks down into the tunnels that lead below the city. “What matters after that comeback is what you plan to do about it,” he remarks. “Are you gonna let things be?” he asks. The man thinks for a moment, looking down at the grate. There’s a tuft of black hair in between the metal. It looks like it’s been pinched off the head of somebody trying to get down below the streets too hastily. He picks it up, looking at it closely. “…Or are you going to learn from your past mistake and do something different now?” he asks, lifting his gaze.

Junis follows his gaze, both of them staring up at the hooded figure, who is up on the flat rooftop of a store, staring down their way over the ledge.

He grunts with a half-laugh, letting the piece of fluff go. The black hair was just bait, a lure. The rabbit knew that it seemed obvious that she would go underground again. That’s what she knows how to do. The hair was there to verify the assumptions of any pursuers and to make them feel good about thinking that they knew what was going on and following a false trail. That’s why the city guard can’t find him, ‘the Black Rabbit’.

It’s because one, the Black-Rabbit isn’t an adult male; she’s a vildt girl. And two, she isn’t underground like the thieves from the prior den; she’s learned that lesson.

“She’s on the roofs,” remarks Sir Knight, rising to his feet and dropping the grate back down.

The hooded figure vanishes, running away.

“Huh?” asks Junis. “What are we going to do now?” she asks, looking around the dark alley. “Should I get the guar-” The elf stops, yelping in terror, as a giant hand roughly grabs her wrist.

“- Wrong,” barks the voice in the darkness that she is dragged into. “You and I, we’re going rabbit hunting,” explains Sir Knight as the two of them disappear into the deep shadows.

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