Apologies

Gracia, Ripa, and Stella walk through the winding streets of Polaris as they make their way to the Mitis house. As they come to the front door, Ripa begins to speak.

“Is Mr. Mitis related to Salvo Mitis?”

“He is. His son.”

“I didn’t know he had one.”

“I didn’t either. Neither did my master.” Stella’s voice is unsteady as she pipes up.

“I feel like I’ve heard the name ‘Salvo Mitis’ before, but…”

“Well, that makes sense. To my understanding, the Magic Institute doesn’t teach much about military affairs. He’s a war hero. He brought an end to a war as a soldier of the Magic Corps without coming from a magical background, then he had disappeared for the past decade.”

“If his father is a war hero, is that why Mr. Mitis is so strong?” Ripa answers her.

“He doesn’t feel very soldierly, though. His strength must come from something else, don’t you think?”

“The secret of Libarius’ strength…” Gracia could make a guess with quite a bit of confidence now, she thinks. “I don’t know what it is. And even if I did, it’s not my place to tell people.”

“True. And there’s not much worth in wondering about a man like that anyway.”

“Libarius isn’t some kind of monster, Ripa.”

“I don’t understand how you can stand that man, Lady Gracia.”

“He’s really not so bad. And…” Gracia cannot find a word to describe Libarius as she sees him. She’s simply found herself unable to look away from him, though cannot articulate why. “There’s something about him. Something that I can’t explain. But… I don’t think I could ever hate him.” She says it so casually, without any real thought of how it sounds, but the two younger girls are sent reeling by Gracia’s declaration.

“Lady Gracia!” Even with the urgency in Ripa’s voice, Gracia remains so calm.

“Is something wrong, Ripa?” At her question, asked so plainly, Ripa and Stella both decide they must have been much too hasty. That they were drawing a conclusion they shouldn’t.

“No. Nothing is wrong.”

“That’s good. And I’ve been meaning to ask you, have we met somewhere else?” Ripa pauses for a moment, her whole world shattered and falling down around her. She’s soft-spoken as she responds.

“If you don’t remember, then it doesn’t matter, Lady Gracia.”

“I’ll try my best to remember.” Ripa lowers her head to hide her smile/ “Ah, we’re here.”

The three of them come to the door of the Mitis home. Gracia steps up to it and knocks. In just a few moments, the more cheery of the Mitis family’s twin maids, her purple hair tied back in a long ponytail, opens the door.

“Ms. Cura, right?” Cura looks over the two girls behind Gracia, one she recognizes and one she doesn’t, and tries to piece together herself what they’ve come here for.

“What are you doing here?”

“We need to see Libarius.”

“He’s started instructing Lama once he got back, so I don’t know if now is a good time.”

“Already? What is he teaching her?”

“I’m not sure. I thought I heard something about ‘common sense,’ but I’m not sure what that means.” Gracia begins to step forward.

“Don’t you think this is the best time for him to have somebody else around him?”

Cura can’t answer that pointed question, or rather, it’s clear that Gracia’s already made up her mind about the answer. Cura steps aside and lets the three of them in.

Though Cura hadn’t told them where Libarius and Lama are having their lesson, Gracia speeds through the halls with Ripa and Stella trailing after her. They come to the second floor of the manor where Gracia swings open a door to reveal the dark, near-empty room of Libarius. On the other side of the room, in view of the door, Libarius sits in a chair with his cane hanging from the arm, Lama sitting attentively, frozen stiff, on her knees in front of him.

“—That is the essence of the priest-class, which you ought to keep in mind if you find yourself dealing with them, though it would be better if you avoid it.”

Gracia rushes across the room, stepping around Lama on the floor and striking Libarius on the top of his head.

“What have you been teaching her? Why did you think you were the right person to teach her common sense?”

“My, Gracia. Regrettably, I’ve gotten to teach her very little. I arrived with the intention to begin my lessons, yet Father, Cura, and Opera all said that they weren’t sure where she was. I had to search her out myself. I found her studying in the dark here, though I would prefer it if she would not rifle through my things, and so I’ve only been able to instruct her in one vital thing.” Gracia turns around to look at Lama.

“Forget everything he just told you!”

“Yes!” Libarius looks around Gracia.

“My, it seems we have several more guests.” Gracia had forgotten about Ripa and Stella, just for a moment. If nothing else she’s thankful that if Libarius was upset to see them, he hid it well. “I imagine you brought them, Gracia? If you find their matters so urgent they ought to bring them to me posthaste.”

Ripa is pushed along by Stella as the two of them join the others. Ripa slowly, painfully, lowers her head to him.

“Mr. Mitis, I apologize for having hit you with my spell.”

“Ah, that matter. It’s of no concern.” He continues on without pause despite the surprise of his three guests. “Any damage has already been repaired. The image of the past has been supplanted and so there is no need to dwell in it. If that is all then you can be off.” Ripa and Stella are still unsure of the situation they’ve found themselves in.

“If Libarius says that it’s fine, then you two can leave.” With Gracia’s reassurance, the two of them nod and bow and politely make their exit. “Libarius, can I speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course, Gracia. Lama, you are excused for the time being. We will return to these lessons soon enough.”

“No you won’t.”

Lama scurries away like a small animal, leaving Libarius and Gracia alone in his room. Looking up at Gracia, Libarius grabs his cane then walks the small distance to sit on the foot of his bed.

“Come, sit beside me, Gracia.”

Gracia follows him, but right as she’s about to sit, she suddenly becomes very aware of herself. This is the first time she’s been in the room of somebody her own age, much less the room of a friend, much less the room of a boy, and now that they’re alone together she isn’t quite sure how to behave herself. She sits on the bed tentatively, her back perfectly straight. Libarius begins to speak the moment she sits.

“Why do you seem to believe that I shouldn’t teach my disciple the sensibilities a mage should have?”

“Because your sensibilities are weird. It can’t be good for her education to be taught how to behave by somebody who won’t accept an apology.”

“My, I thought my explanation was perfectly logical.”

“It was. That’s what makes it weird. I feel like a large part of apologies is sentimentality. And other people’s feelings.”

“Such a thing hardly concerns me.”

Gracia wants him to understand, even if only so he doesn’t teach Lama anything too strange. She tries to think of something she could apologize for. Something without much material harm, something that hasn’t been repaid already, something where sentimentality may reach Libarius. She does think of something, and she thinks of it quickly, but she isn’t sure it’s something that Libarius would even consider harm. And she feels far too arrogant assuming it was something that had harmed him. She can’t look at him.

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone at the arena.” Libarius pauses. Gracia’s worst fear is that he would rebuke even this. And when he begins to speak his voice remains even-toned, just as it always is, nothing like it was atop the tower.

“I had thought you might come back.” Even in his entirely neutral voice, Gracia is sure that rather than “thought” he had “hoped.” That’s what she wants to believe. It’s the only reason she can imagine he would have answered in such a way.

“I did. But you were already gone by then.” She feels embarrassed, like a child making pointless excuses.

“Perhaps that is for the best. If we met again so soon then I cannot believe that we could be sitting here together today.”

“Or maybe we wouldn’t have been fighting at all. It’s not like I hated you. I think we could have made up then.”

“Thank you, Gracia.”