Chapter 13: The Letter

“Is a lie a tool of order? It is, if that lie results in less chaos.”

Our room in the dormitory was submerged in a soft twilight, where the light from a single magical lamp and a candelabrum on the floor created a cozy yet focused space. Outside the window, the first snow was falling slowly, almost lazily, its silent circling adding weight to the quiet. I sat at my impeccably tidy desk, tracing calligraphic lines onto a sheet of yellowed parchment. Every movement of the quill was precise and economical, pursuing a simple and clear objective—to quell my parents’ anxieties.

“Dearest Mother and Father,

Your daughter, Artalis, writes to you. I hope this letter reaches you swiftly, and that nothing delays the courier. I know you may have begun to worry—forgive my silence. The days here are especially full, and every minute demands attention.”

“No, that’s not it…” Catherine’s irritated voice broke the silence. “‘Synchronization of magical flows in the inscription of runic spells’… The formula is here, but the logic is absent. How can you inscribe runic magic when you understand nothing about it!”

I didn’t look at her, only noting dryly, “Runic magic is merely symbols. For them to function, you must use a specific magic at the moment each rune is inscribed; their combination creates ideal patterns. Focus on the final state of the rune, not the steps to reach it.”

Catherine froze, hearing the answer, then replied in a voice full of understanding, “So the whole point is to imprint the rune while casting the spell?… Arta, why don’t you teach?”

“Teaching is an inefficient use of my resources,” I replied, dipping the quill into the inkwell.

“Decided to write a letter to your parents?” Catherine asked, observing my actions.

I glanced at her. She was sitting on the floor, surrounded by scrolls and a thick tome—“The Runic Manuscript and the Fundamentals of Runic Magic”—a subject taught only at the end of the first year.

“Yes, I have not written to them for a long time,” I answered in a level tone. “Four full Veytras have passed since we parted.”

Catherine smirked.

“Oh, don’t worry so much!” She looked wearily at the open book. “You’ve answered all their letters.”

“Yes, but I have not written one of my own,” I countered, unwilling to make excuses to her.

Catherine shook her head.

“Alright…” She sighed. “I understand, parents are important and all that,” she replied, returning to her book on runic magic.

I said nothing, simply continued to write, then ran my eyes over what I had written, as if convincing myself I might have missed something. Another internal malfunction, undoubtedly caused by my interaction with Catherine. I touched my head—my temperature was slightly above normal—and scanned the text again:

“First and foremost—thank you for the funds you send regularly. They help me maintain the standard to which you accustomed me from childhood. I am careful with the funds: for my studies, necessary supplies, clothing—and a little for maintaining a social appearance, as is customary in our circle.”

I glanced at Catherine, who was engrossed in her studies, and began to write the next paragraph:

“Thank you also for my birthday gift. The magical lamp is beautiful—I have installed it above my writing desk. It is now especially pleasant to work in the evenings. Of course, I would have liked to spend the holiday with you, but I was there in thought—as always on the 33rd of Ordonis, I prayed to all the gods of Order, and I am certain they heard me.”

“Curse it!” Catherine threw the book aside. “I don’t understand! How could the rector approve our early transfer when the rules clearly state that a provisional assessment is only possible after six full Veytras of study?!”

“We have not been transferred yet,” I calmly replied to her emotional outburst. “And yes, such transfers are extremely rare at the academy. Everything here is designed so that you graduate by the time you come of age and joyfully head to the altar.”

Catherine sighed deeply.

“Arta! I already understand everything about the academy, and yes, I agree that it is a politicized education.” She looked at me. “In any case, there is simply no better place for girls in the country, and co-education is not popular.”

“I understand, but perhaps there will be something new at Arcane’s Blessing?” I asked without interest, writing another paragraph:

“The Academy of Duality demands much. It is not only knowledge but also constant adaptation. However, I am managing. The magic of Light and Chaos remains inaccessible to me, but I am independently improving in the magic of Order, which, unfortunately, is not taught here in Valtheim at all.”

“I don’t know, this ‘Arcane’s Blessing’ is a mystery to me, but if I’m with you,” she smiled sweetly, “then I’m ready for any feat.”

I paused and looked at Catherine with a shadow of irony. “By the way, I mentioned you in my letter as well.”

“Me?” Catherine was distracted from her studies. “I hope you didn’t write that I keep my scrolls in a mess and talk too much at night?”

I shook my head slightly and read from the sheet: “I have a roommate—Catherine Holu. Resolute, focused, with an unshakeable will. We train, we study, we exchange views on life. It is an interesting experience. I would say: a useful one.”

Catherine snorted, but a warm smile appeared in her eyes. “‘A useful experience.’ Arta, you are incorrigible. It sounds as if I am a rare herb you’ve discovered for a new potion.”

“You are a stable variable,” I replied, smiling back at her. “And that is worth a great deal.”

“That’s you calling me your best friend, isn’t it?” she asked, having completely stopped studying and smiling slyly.

“Something like that,” I answered with a slight irony and continued writing the letter, moving on to the main block of information.

“Now, for the most important matter. Mother, I have not forgotten my goal. To become a priestess of Order—that is still at the center of my path. But something unexpected has happened: the heiress to the throne, Evelina Valtheim, has appointed me her mage-guardian. This decision has given me access to additional resources but has not distracted me from my studies. Moreover, Evelina has expressed her readiness to finance my further education at Arcane’s Blessing. I do not claim that this institution surpasses Jozef’s Tower of Magic in Troysk—undoubtedly, we in Tarvar have a stricter system of training and a different approach to the order of structures. However, Arcane possesses a reputation, influence, and connections that may prove useful for further development—both mine and our family’s. I perceive this not as a replacement, but as a supplement. Father, you have always worried about my path. But I want you to know: every morning of mine begins with the thought of how to strengthen our house without violating its principles. I am moving forward consciously.”

I reread what I had written and then added one more detail that Catherine already knew.

“And another thing: after the provisional assessment and additional preparation, Catherine and I have been transferred early to the second year. This decision has already been approved by the rector, but there are still some formal delays. I think you will be pleased.”

Catherine stood up and went to the window, watching the slowly falling snow. This moment became the perfect opportunity to write the last part of the lie, not intended for her ears.

“As for new interests: I have begun to fence. A real sword, not a foolish épée. You, Father, should remember: even in childhood, I would watch your hand as it gripped the hilt. Here, I have finally understood what I was missing.”

When Catherine turned around, I was already writing the next paragraph and looked up at her.

“I had to confirm your invitation. I wrote that I accept it.”

Catherine smiled silently. And I read the last line that she was allowed to hear:

“For the winter holidays, in the Veytra of Nocturne, I will accept Catherine’s invitation and go to her family estate. I promise not to abuse her family’s trust and to observe all boundaries.”

Catherine, hearing this, looked up at me in surprise.

“You… you’ve already decided? I thought you were still hesitating.”

“I have decided, if you pass the exams. If you do not, then, first, you will remain in the first year, and second, I will not go anywhere.”

Catherine pouted.

“Why wouldn’t I pass! All I do day and night is study and cram!”

I smiled calmly at her.

“In that case, I will go.”

“You know, Arta,” Catherine said in a quiet voice, “thank you. Not for going. But for… being you. With you, everything becomes… clearer. Even if you call me a ‘stable variable.’”

“You are welcome,” I answered dryly and finished the final phrases of the letter:

“All that remains is to finish this semester—only two Veytras. And I will be a full-fledged second-year student. You cannot imagine how happy I am about this. With respect, gratitude, and devotion—your Arta (or, as I am now more often called at the academy—Artalis Feda Nox. And yes, it sounds quite official.)”

I carefully folded the parchment and dripped sealing wax onto it.

“I will go to the mail pavilion before it closes, and you, do not waste time and continue to study. When I return, I will help you.”

“Alright, Arta! I will wait.”

I took a black coat from the wardrobe, which had been issued to all academy students since the cold weather began, and, opening the door, set off for the eastern gates of the academy.

***

When I reached the academy gates, it was already dark, and I stopped to breathe in the damp air coming from the Luren River—wide, cold, like the breath of the first winter weeks. The river ran alongside the academy walls, but its proximity was palpable—not only in the scent of water but also in a strange emptiness in the sound. The mail pavilion adjoined the fortress wall, which was laid with gray stone, and was hidden behind strict arches.

Near the entrance, two lamps burned solitarily, creating the feeling that the building itself was watching you from the darkness. I wasted no more time and went inside. There, at the counter for sending letters, stood Nova Cross. Her traveling cloak was casually slung over her shoulder, and the letter in her hand was crumpled at one corner—not from roughness, but rather from tense concentration.

The postwoman looked at her joylessly, as if adopting her melancholy, and only when I approached Nova did she sigh with relief and retreat into the back room, as if understanding that the sending of letters would be delayed even longer.

When I was very close, Nova looked up at me, and her voice sounded first:

“You are also sending a letter? To your parents?”

I just nodded instead of answering. I had not expected to see her in such a dejected state at this hour, and for me, this was a plus that I could not fail to use.

“Yes, I am also sending a ‘report’ that everything is fine with me,” I replied calmly.

Nova sighed and looked at me with a tired gaze.

“My parents need the letter not for news. It is a report, but not like yours. It is a check: do I remember what I am obligated to do.” Nova shook her head. “Every time—the same subtext. ‘Have you not chosen a husband yet? Who will continue the Cross line? Perhaps we will find someone worthy ourselves?’” She smirked, but without mirth. “I am not yet twenty, but they are already counting not years, but missed opportunities. I wonder if this will ever end?”

I remained silent, watching as her soul endured the weight of her own duty, which she would have to fulfill one way or another.

“Before… everything seemed different. While we were with Reina. While no one interfered.” She looked at me. “I think you can guess. We were together. In the first year. Unofficially, of course. But it was not a secret either. And now, after the duel with you, Frederik is watching my every step, his eyes are everywhere, and if I make a mistake… then I will simply be expelled. For me, that would be a disgrace.”

I deliberately looked at her with a wistful expression.

“I remember our conversation with Frederik. I am sorry it turned out the way it did.”

“Oh, come on, Arta. I should be thanking you, not blaming you. Especially after you did not see to my expulsion. I once again sincerely thank you for that.” She glanced at the exit, as if watching to see if someone was following her.

I smiled deliberately.

“No thanks are necessary. I do not seek revenge and see no point in ruining other people’s fates because of one mistake.” I paused and added, “You were unstable and emotional then. It is good that you have drawn conclusions.”

She nodded slightly, and a shadow of a smile appeared on her lips.

“Do you know why it was like that?” She paused, but did not wait for my answer. “Evelina, she is my cousin. I actually enrolled here only because of her. And to be honest, I always thought I would become her mage-guardian…”

The fact that Evelina and Nova were cousins was no secret to me, but Nova probably thought otherwise. I decided not to show any extra reaction and asked a simple question:

“Are you still upset about that?”

“To be honest, not anymore. Evelina told me how you dealt with the cultists in Sumerenn…” Nova looked me in the eye. “I do not know if I could have acted as coolly as you.”

“One never knows, Nova, until the moment arrives.”

She smiled and continued:

“It’s just that all my hysteria… over this title is connected with the fact that…” she faltered, “with the fact that I have always cared for her?”

This fact was a new, curious layer that revealed Nova from a different side. So, she had loved Evelina before? But why then did the problems with the cycle begin only when Ren appeared?

“Umm, you mean romantically?” I clarified in a half-whisper.

Nova’s cheeks flushed.

“I do not know, probably yes. It is the same as with Ren, a deep inner feeling, as if I should be with her.”

“I see… And is Ren aware of this?”

Nova looked at me with a skeptical gaze.

“It does not matter, but I think she suspects. Ren is very perceptive, but that is precisely why I love her. You cannot even imagine how good it was with her in the first year.” Nova looked at me, as if checking my reaction, but I just continued to look her in the eye. “And another thing about Evelina: the whole story with her goes back to my youngest years. Perhaps someday you will find out about it, either from me or from her,” Nova smiled dryly.

I decided to change the subject to something more abstract, understanding that Nova was not very comfortable talking about Evelina.

“I understand,” I paused briefly before continuing. “In the capital, I saw Konrad Cross. Is he your uncle?”

“Yes, my uncle,” she clarified. “He is very kind, really. So many pleasant memories are connected with him, when he visited me at our family estate.” Nova sighed. “You do know that we, the Crosses, are an ancient house? The first ancient house of Valtheim, whose heir entered into a union with the queens.”

“Uh-huh, Konrad Cross told me about that, and he also said that the disappearance of data about the husband of the twin queens is connected with the Gods of Dreams.”

Nova nodded.

“That is exactly right. I was very interested in this as a child, especially from my uncle, who so loved to talk about it.”

“Did you learn anything interesting?” I clarified, allowing myself a slight interest.

“Nope, only that he disappeared after the sacrifice of the twin queens.” Nova looked at the postwoman, who had come out of the back room, and continued in a half-whisper, “And do you know that the Cross house is the only one of the ancient houses that supports the traditions of the twin queens?”

“No, I do not know,” I replied. “So, the support of the entire kingdom depends on your children?”

“Yes, that is the whole problem. I understand perfectly well what responsibility lies on me.”

She clenched her fist and placed it on the counter, and I, seeing her nervousness, once again decided to change the subject.

“In two Veytras, Catherine and I will officially be transferred to the second year. We will be studying with you. We will probably see each other more often,” I replied, shifting my gaze to the postwoman, who clearly wanted to receive the letters and close the pavilion.

Hearing my comment, Nova smiled slightly.

“They say they created a special exam for you in Order magic, but knowing your strength after that duel, I am not surprised that you passed it with such a high score.”

“Yes, it was not difficult. Here, in Valtheim, practically no one understands this magic,” I stated dryly.

She clicked her tongue and looked out the window.

“I would like to learn that too. It is just a pity that all my thoughts are occupied with the question of the future, which has not yet come. Perhaps if I thought less, it would be easier for me to master Order magic?” Nova shook her head ironically, then continued, “Hardly. Perhaps when I come of age, in a little less than two years, everything will become simpler. Right now, it seems to me that growing up is just another confirmation that you cannot choose anything in your life at all.”

I held my gaze on her clenched fist and, after a short pause, replied:

“Sometimes, one should not break an ancient tradition without reason. Especially if you are the one on whom it rests.”

She frowned.

“Are you talking about me right now?”

“No,” I said calmly. “About the matters of your House.”

Nova remained silent. Then she said quietly:

“That is the problem… I am this problem of the House. The only Cross…” She paused. “My whole essence, my whole ‘I’—is a possibility. And even when I am silent, the duty inside still demands continuation. I do not know if it is my desire or just a command with which I was born, but it is an oppressive feeling.”

She went to the counter and handed over the letter. Then she turned around and lingered beside me.

“Do you want to be my friend?”

I pretended to think, understanding that this was an excellent opportunity to observe her even more closely.

“If you do not mind the formalities—I do not mind.”

She barely smirked.

“Until we meet in the second year, Artalis.”

“Until we meet, Nova.”

She lingered at the threshold of the mail pavilion and, only after seeing that I was watching her go, disappeared into the night.

All that was left for me was to hand my letter to the tired postman and, leaving the pavilion, breathe in the night air coming from the river.