I didn't move.
"You've said something like that before. What does it mean?"
"Hmm? I have? Doesn't sound like me."
"You have. Now explain what you mean by that."
Elya tapped her fingers several times against her teacup before responding.
"It's difficult to explain, and even then you probably won't understand."
"Try me."
"Not the current version of you."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"
My brows tightened as I slammed my closed fist against the armchair, drawing the attention of the attendants and maids around us.
For the first time, Elya's calm demeanour seemed to falter, though only slightly. Her eyes narrowed, and the softness left her face.
"How am I supposed to know?" she said, a trace of annoyance now leaking into her voice. "Shouldn't you be the one to understand it by now? The book I gave you was supposed to make you understand."
"The book?" My voice sharpened. "You mean that same wretched book that gave me nightmares for a whole week? That book?!"
The room's temperature seemed to shift.
Tension rose suddenly among the people in the room.
My fingers tightened around the edge of the seat. Something moved beneath my skin, hot and cold at once. A thin pressure gathered around my shoulders and started to escape towards Elya, who was in front of me. I felt it too late.
Aether leaked from me.
It wasn't a spell.
It was a poor man's imitation of what Professor Orin and Darius Renora had done to me.
It didn't feel as threatening or imposing as theirs.
But its intent sharpened the air.
I saw one attendant's hand move toward something at her sleeve.
Another went rigid.
Elya stared at me.
She wasn't afraid.
She was intrigued.
Then she looked faintly concerned, took a deep breath, and exhaled before speaking.
"Before you bombard me with questions and your Aether," she said calmly, "please calm whatever you're attempting down. Your Aether Pulse is making me feel awkward, mainly because you're releasing it so poorly, which might make me have to release mine, and, well, that wouldn't be great for anyone here. Ok?"
Her words reached me. Slowly.
I looked down at my hand. There was a faint shimmer of rose-gold Aether clinging to my knuckles, warm copper-pink light bending around a pressure line too thin to be visible to ordinary sight.
'So this is what my Aether Pulse looks like. It's weak for now, but if I practise it, then maybe it can be effective during the Island Exam.'
[USER QUERY ACCEPTED]
[AETHER TECHNIQUE: AETHER PULSE CAN BE DISRUPTED TO OTHER MAGES AT A SIMILAR OR LOWER LEVEL]
'... That's cool to know, thanks, Codex.'
[USER IS WELCOME]
I breathed in. Then out, and let my Aether recede.
"You're right, Elya," I said. "I apologise for not being able to control myself in the moment."
Elya studied me for a few seconds.
"It's alright. Judging by how you reacted when I brought up the book, you must not have had a great experience with it."
"I did not."
"That's a shame." She tilted her head.
A brief silence fell between us before what looked like a eureka moment for Elya.
"Hey! Why don't we make a deal? One that will benefit us both."
I narrowed my eyes.
"What kind of deal?"
"Considering how we both have questions for one another, why don't we both ask each other three questions? With each party answering honestly."
"How would I know you aren't lying?"
The room changed again.
This time, it wasn't because of my "poorly released" Aether.
One attendant's expression tightened instantly. Another shot me a look so sharp it could've cut me. Somewhere behind me, fabric rustled with barely restrained offence.
Elya laughed.
She laughed vigorously.
Soft, bright, and strangely pleased.
"That's funny."
"I wasn't joking."
"I know. That's what makes it funny." She set her cup down. "Look, Kael, if there's one thing you should know, it's that a Veyrannis never lies. But if it will make you feel better, I swear on my household name that I shall not tell any lies during this exchange."
I stared at her.
That sounded formal enough to matter.
Or formal enough to sound like it mattered.
Unfortunately, I couldn't tell if it was.
'It's not like I'm going to get anything better than this; the fact that she's letting me ask my own questions is more than enough from a person og her stature.'
"Fine," I said. "I have a few questions I want to ask anyway."
"Great." Elya's smile returned fully. "How wonderful. Seeing as you're the guest, why don't I let you ask your three questions first?"
'That's generous.'
Suspiciously generous.
Still, I nodded in acceptance.
"Why did you give me that book back in the library?"
Elya didn't answer immediately. Her gaze drifted toward the tea, though I didn't think she was really looking at it.
"Honestly? I don't know."
I stared.
"That is a terrible answer."
"It is an honest one." She rested her chin lightly against her hand. "It is one of the few annoying things about being a member of House Veyrannis. We are collectors and archivers of history, yes, but we don't simply keep a recollection of history. Sometimes history decides to move and make itself known first."
"That is... extremely vague."
"Haha, I know, right? But sadly, it is also true. Sometimes a book in our family library manifests itself to us and calls on us to deliver its contents. When that happens, we have an obligation to deliver the book to its deserved owner."
The room felt still. I remembered the Memory-Relic in my hands. The pull. The white vacuum of cruelty that launched me onto the remnants and beginnings of a torrid battlefield.
"You were able to take a book from your family library and handed it straight to me, with no questions asked?"
"Yup," Elya said. "That's how it works. I didn't even get to look inside, so I haven't got the slightest inkling as to why it's got you so worked up."
I opened my mouth, but Elya smiled before I could start my next sentence.
"Also, that counts as your second question."
My mouth remained open for a second longer.
Then closed.
"I didn't ask a second question."
"You did."
"How does that count as me asking a question— wait, don't answer that."
"It counts because you formed a sentence requesting information that would confirm my action."
I stared at her.
She stared back, delighted.
"And with that," she said, "I have now answered your third question."
For several seconds, I said nothing.
My inner world became very calm.
'She just fucking played me.'
Elya picked up her cup again.
"I did warn you that I was a Veyrannis."
"No, you didn't."
"Oh, didn't I? I assumed my existence would've implied it."
"That's— warnings don't work that way."
"They do from a noble's perspective."
I exhaled slowly and composed myself.
'If that's how you want to play it, fine.'
"Ask me your questions."
I could immediately taste the dislike of those words as I said them to Elya. She seemed to enjoy them, leaning forward with a grin.
"What did you experience when you opened the book?"
"A Memory-Relic."
"Yes, I know that," she said. "I'm asking what you saw."
"A memory," I replied.
Elya blinked.
Then slowly leaned back.
"Ok, so—"
"Oh, and that's your second question."
For a moment, she stared at me.
Then she released a long sigh, but the small smile tugging at her lips ruined the performance of disappointment.
"Ok, ok. Fair enough. You've got me, using my own trick against me, I see."
"I learn quickly."
"The student becomes the master."
"You wish."
The attendants looked increasingly confused as to whether they were witnessing diplomacy, hostility, or some new form of social illness.
Elya tapped one finger against the table.
"Well," she said, "if this is the way you're going to answer, then I should ask a yes-or-no question."
"That would be a wise choice."
"Taron did say recently that he thinks you're smarter than I am."
My thoughts stopped.
'Oh, for fuck sake'
Of course, he just had to say something; he just had to stir things up for me.
"You definitely just cursed in your mind, oh, and that wasn't a question."
'He's one hundred per cent the reason she came to find me herself.'
"I'm guessing you're thinking that that idiot Taron is the reason I decided to talk to you today; also, that wasn't a question."
"... Am I wrong in thinking that?"
"Ah-ah-ah, your turn in asking questions is over; it's my turn now."
Elya's smile grew far too innocent. It felt more like a hassle to question her than to answer her questions; perhaps that's what she wanted.
I sighed and gestured for her to ask her last question.
"My final question," she said. "Do you think you're smarter than me, Elya Veyrannis?"
The room seemed to sharpen around us.
All attendants and maids inhaled quietly in sync.
Elya rested her chin lightly on her hand, completely at ease. At seventeen, she had the sort of beauty that felt delicate at first glance and quietly arresting a moment later; long pale-pink hair fell in soft, silken layers around her face and shoulders, framing features graceful without seeming fragile. Her expression carried the faintest hint of a smile, warm enough to disarm if not for her eyes. They were bright and clear, almost luminous, and they watched me with amused patience, as though she already knew several things I had not yet realised about myself.
I could sense three key features glistening from her eyes: interest, challenge and expectation.
I sat up straighter. Not because I needed to, but because I wanted her to see that I understood exactly what she was doing.
This wasn't just for vanity's sake.
It was a test.
Of confidence.
Of honesty.
Of whether I would hide behind politeness because she was an heir, because this was her room, because her attendants were watching, because her House name carried enough weight to make most students lower their eyes before answering.
I held her gaze.
It was long.
It was quiet.
I was unblinking.
None of what I described would've affected my answer anyway, as my response was already set before she had a chance to finish her sentence.
"Yes."