"SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE!"
Lucas pushed through the last of the undergrowth and stopped.
Emma — that was her name, he was pretty sure, the girl from the courtyard, the one who had stood next to the guy who pushed him and told him to quit before he embarrassed himself — was tied to a tree. Vines wrapped around her from shoulders to ankles, pinning her flat against the bark, her arms stuck at her sides. She was struggling against them with the increasingly desperate energy of someone who had been at it for a while.
Lucas looked at her.
She looked at him.
A silence passed between them that had a whole conversation in it.
"It's you," she said.
"It's me," he agreed.
"What are you doing here?"
Lucas glanced around at the forest. At the trees. At the complete absence of anywhere else to be. "Just passing through," he said. "Don't mind me." He started walking.
"WAIT—" The vines creaked as she tried to turn. "Are you serious right now? Can you not see I'm literally tied to a tree?!"
"I can see that, yeah."
"Then HELP ME."
Lucas stopped. Tilted his head slightly, like he was genuinely thinking the request over. "I mean... why?"
Emma stared at him. "Why?! Because I'm a person and I'm stuck and you're right there—"
"Sure, sure." He turned around fully and looked at her with an expression of mild academic interest. "But is that really how you ask someone for help? Just- help me, immediately, because I said so?"
Her mouth opened. Closed. She was doing the very specific kind of breathing that people do when they're furious and also need something from the person they're furious at.
"...Please," she said, through her teeth.
"Hmm." Lucas rubbed the back of his neck. "That was painful to watch."
"I said please!"
"You said it like it personally offended you." He walked a few steps closer, just enough that they were having a real conversation. "Also- and I just want to make sure I'm remembering this right didn't you tell me, two days ago, in front of everyone, to quit before I embarrassed myself?"
Emma's jaw tightened. She looked away.
"I'm just asking," Lucas said pleasantly.
"...I'm sorry for that," she said. The words came out clipped and stiff, like they had to be physically removed from her mouth.
"Are you though?"
"Yes!"
"You sound like you're apologizing to a wall."
"LUCAS—"
"Okay, okay." He held up a hand. "I believe you. I'm very moved. Beautiful apology." He paused. "Still not helping you though."
Emma made a sound that wasn't quite a word.
"Think about it from my perspective," Lucas said, crossing his arms casually. "I'm a failure, remember? That's the word you used. What could a failure possibly do for someone in your situation? Probably nothing. You'd be better off waiting for someone competent."
"I will actually lose my mind," Emma said, quietly, to nobody.
"I'm sure one of the higher house cadets will come through eventually. Nova seems nice. Very friendly. Good stats too actually, you'd be surprised—"
"FINE." Emma closed her eyes. "Fine. I'm sorry. I'm genuinely, actually sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said. It wasn't fair and I didn't know you and I was trying to look confident in front of everyone and I took it too far. Okay? I mean it. I'm sorry."
Lucas looked at her for a moment.
It was a real apology. He could tell the difference.
"Good," he said simply. "That actually sounded like you meant it."
Emma opened her eyes. Something in her face shifted — relief, mostly, with a trace of leftover humiliation. "So you'll help me?"
"No."
The relief disappeared.
"Oh my—" She pulled against the vines again, accomplishing nothing. "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?"
Lucas rubbed his chin. Let the silence stretch just long enough to be annoying. "Well," he said slowly, like the idea was only just occurring to him, "since you asked..." He smiled. "Be my servant."
Dead silence.
Emma blinked once. Blinked again.
"I'm sorry," she said very carefully. "I think I misheard you."
"Servant," Lucas repeated. "You know- I say jump, you ask how high, that sort of thing." He shrugged like it was the most reasonable proposal in the world. "I think it's a fair trade."
"A fair—" Emma's voice climbed. "Are you actually insane? Do you hear yourself right now? I apologized! I said sorry! What kind of deranged—"
"Okay," Lucas said, and turned around again. "Good luck with the vines."
"WAIT—"
He kept walking.
"Wait- Lucas- I—" He could hear her struggling behind him, the vines creaking, her breath coming fast. Then quiet. Then, very small and very pained: "...Fine."
He stopped.
"Fine," she said again. "I'll be your servant. Just- get me out of this."
Lucas turned back around. He looked at her for a second, the expression on her face was something between fury and resignation and the specific misery of someone who has just agreed to something they cannot believe they agreed to. He felt a little bad about it.
Only a little.
Whisperfang appeared in his hand.
"Stay still," he said.
Emma shut her eyes immediately, which was probably the right call given that he was about to swing a dagger in her direction. He raised the blade and moved it in a single clean arc. The ring of mana that burst out was tight and precise, slicing through every vine in its path. They snapped all at once.
Emma lurched forward with nothing holding her up anymore.
Lucas caught her without thinking about it. Just reached out and she was there, off-balance, falling into his arms. She went completely still.
Then her eyes opened and she registered what was happening.
"Let go of me!" she said, immediately.
Lucas let go.
She hit the ground.
"OW—" She sat up and glared at him, rubbing her elbow. "Why would you just drop me?!"
Lucas looked at her. "You said let go."
"I didn't mean—" She stopped. Pressed her lips together. "You did that on purpose."
"I did exactly what you asked," Lucas said, which was technically true.
Emma stared at him for a long moment. Then she stood up, brushed the dirt off her clothes with sharp, precise movements, and did not say anything else about it.
The ground shook.
Not the light trembling from footsteps. Something deeper — a slow, heavy vibration that rose up through the soles of Lucas's feet and kept going. The trees around them swayed slightly. Roots cracked and shifted in the dirt.
Then it rose.
It came up from the ground like the forest itself was waking up — a massive shape made entirely of packed roots and twisting vines, twenty feet tall, its body creaking and groaning as it pulled itself upright. Two hollow gaps in its trunk that might have been eyes. Arms that ended in bundles of vines that could clearly wrap around a person and pin them to a tree without much effort.
Emma had gone completely white.
"That's what had me," she said.
"Yeah," Lucas said. "I figured."
"We need to run." She grabbed his arm. "Right now. If those vines catch us again—"
"You go," Lucas said.
Emma let go of his arm. "...What?"
"Head towards the west. I'll catch up."
She stared at him. The Root Titan shifted its weight, the ground trembling with every movement. "Are you — it's twenty feet tall. You're going to fight THAT?"
Lucas looked at the creature. Looked at Whisperfang in his hand. Rolled one shoulder back.
"I've had a rough few days," he said. "I need to hit something big."
Emma watched him walk toward it.
She stood there with her mouth open for a moment, genuinely trying to decide if he was brave or just completely out of his mind.
***
A few minutes later she was still standing in the same spot.
The Root Titan was on the ground.
Lucas pulled Whisperfang out of the trunk with a tug that required both hands and a planted foot. He straightened up and rolled his neck. "Annoying," he said. "All those vines." He looked at the dagger, wiped it on the grass, and looked up.
Emma was staring at him.
"You," she said slowly, "actually defeated it."
"It put up a fight," he admitted.
"You're supposed to be — I mean the rumors said—" She stopped herself. Started again. "Aren't you supposed to have no talent?"
Lucas shot her a flat look.
She quickly found something interesting to look at on the ground. "Never mind."
She was quiet for a moment. He started walking and she fell into step beside him, and there was something in that — the way she just naturally matched his pace without being asked — that said more than anything she'd said out loud.
'Maybe the rumors were wrong,' she thought, watching him from the corner of her eye. 'Maybe he's more Ironhart than they ever gave him credit for.'
She almost smiled.
"Alright," Lucas said, not looking at her. "Let's move. Still two days left and I'm not wasting them."
He felt something press gently against his arm.
He looked down.
Emma had looped her hand around his arm, walking close, her shoulder almost touching his. Casual. Like it was nothing.
Lucas looked at her hand. Looked at her face. "Why are you holding my arm."
"I'm your servant," she said simply. Her voice had shifted- softer, a little warmer. "Just making sure you're comfortable, master."
Lucas stared at her.
He had the distinct feeling he had just walked into something.
"...Let's just move," he said.
Emma smiled at the path ahead. "Yes sir."
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[Stats increased.]
[Three days remaining until the exam ends.]
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