The Solveig Playbook, Pt. 2

SOLVEIG

Seren stepped up to the Resonance Formula and began her speech.

“Thank you Principal Mackenzie, and I must say, what a wonderful way to start off the semester! If you ever heard the stories of what the Quadrant was like back then—well, hah, you will know even ceremonies were hard to come by. They were replaced with rotan bamboos instead.”

That drew a laugh from the crowd.

“Would it be mad to say I was nostalgic for those times? Agh, no matter, it probably sounds mad to an Illustrian anyway—so enough of me reminiscing about the past. Yes, my name is Seren, and I am a representative from a Quadrant magic academy called Academy Six.”

The people around Solveig immediately ran into a frenzy.

“Phew, we got a celebrity~”

“Ain’t that one of the best Academies in Llanfair?”

“You hear what they do over there in the Quadrant? Might Makes Right, man. They cull the weaker students—literally cull. You’d be lucky if you only got expelled.”

Oh gods… Solveig thought. It almost seems too obvious that Seren’s engineering Cain's downfall… But would the enemy be so arrogant to not hide her intentions in plain sight?

Or… was the true enemy trying to redirect the attention to the fake enemy so they could start making moves?

Oh man, I’m a genius!!

Solveig’s attention soon refocused to Seren’s speech. “My purpose here is simple and rather passive. I will be observing your classes so I can better understand what lessons we can take at Academy Six. But sincerely, I believe Hrafen Academy can also learn from Number Six as well.”

Solveig’s eyes perked up.

Is Seren…

Insulting us?

“We have our own strengths and weaknesses. I really don’t mean to pry, but perhaps Illustria’s position wouldn’t be this tenuous if you take some tips from yours truly!”

The crowd ate that up.

“Yeah, perhaps the Ducalship could learn a thing or two!”

“Learn from the masters…”

“Mm-hmm! Mm-hmm!”

Uh oh.

Uh oh!

Cain Anger Meter alert! Cain Anger Meter alert!

Solveig searched desperately from the back, but she didn’t have to search long.

After all, Cain to her was a kind of lowkey Demonic Energy Siren.

He was slouched, but he wasn’t idle.

He was drawing some concerned looks from the people around him too.

At that point, Solveig had no doubt what was happening to Cain.

Cain had demon blood in him. The specifics of how that came to be, she'd have to ask the Duke. But she imagined it involved a rather embarrassing tale...

Perhaps people around them were severely stupid or naive. She could, quite clearly, feel the demonic aura that surrounded Cain.

Solveig wanted to facepalm following that thought though.

Of course. They never had to face an actual demon before…

Luckily for Solveig, Seren seemed to be wrapping up.

“I won’t bother you with more talk any longer. But to coin a classic Llanfair phrase: We will be watching you with great interest,” the evil lady said evilly.

Then she stepped off the stage. A polite applause resonated in the courtyard.

And not a jeer in sight?

These people sure are eager to let the Quadrant in…

Personally, Solveig would have kicked Seren out by now. But doing so right now would probably cause some people to align themselves against you. Clearly, people were frustrated.

But they would never show it outwardly. An applause was the closest some people might get to dissent without being kicked out.

And from the way Cain looks to be doing… he seems to understand that too.

Solveig gulped as she analyzed his behavior.

In her personal opinion, Solveig has figured him out. He did have a threshold… a strong one, but one that nevertheless could be crossed.

And right now, it seems to be reaching nearly halfway there.

Cain Anger Meter: 35%

Yeah… Seems about right.

What got to Solveig was that Seren didn't even seem to be trying to provoke Cain at all. She just seemed caught up in her own agenda. If anything, the crowd did most of the work for her, which seemed… look if that was the point, then Seren is an utter genius.

But conspiracies were conspiracies for a reason; it was really unlikely. So really, was anyone trying to get Cain to blow after all? Was it just a distraction from a realer, unknown threat? Did they know how vulnerable he was right now? Surely the Duke had told no one of his condition, let alone Cain himself…

Perhaps there was nothing to worry about after all. Or was the problem not Cain, but the ceremony itself?

Solveig's brain was going to melt straight out of her ears.

But furthermore…

Cain was about to call her up to the same stage where the Principal stood. And, as promised, Cain would introduce his teacher, his higher-up, to the world.

Officially.

Shown off to the world…

It was what Solveig wanted, wasn't it? To be lauded. To have the chance to prove herself.

What use was that when she didn’t have null magic to make herself useful?

She didn’t exactly have anything to laud. Being a supposed war veteran? Who cares about that?

Killing a Great Mother Bear? She’d be perceived as an ecoterrorist, as the Duke helpfully illustrated.

And introduce herself as what, exactly? "Hello, I killed an endangered apex predator and also nearly turned your heir apparent into a red mist"? They'd carve that onto her tombstone right next to "here lies Solveig.”

And what is little Solveig without her powers anyway?

A pest. An annoyance. A very loud and buzzing fly that everyone tries to swat away but sticks to their skin because she’s so desperate for their nutrients.

“Ahem.”

Eek!

The boy sitting beside Solveig coughing softly thankfully brought her back from her doom spiral.

“I’m assuming you are nouveau riche as well?” Rick eventually asked. His accent was hard to describe. Like he was trying desperately to have the same accent that Cain did but failing miserably.

Solveig blinked blearily. “New ver… richer?”

“Ah, my apologies. I always forget that not everyone is quite as well-traveled as I am to know the language it derives from. Nouveau riche simply means families who acquired their immense wealth recently. Families of real industry,” Rick chuckled softly. “Like mine.”

He turned his head, his smile instantly curdling as he stared out at the crowd of aristocrats.

“These old nobles… they don’t care for people like us, Solveig. Wait, no, that’s being charitable. They despise us, really.” Rick sneered. “They would rather watch their ancient estates burn to the ground than acknowledge our accomplishments. Than acknowledge that we even exist.”

He looked back down at her, his expression growing intensely passionate.

“Do you know what it actually took for me and my family to secure a seat inside this academy?” Rick pressed.

Solveig shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I—I’m quite new to this whole thing, really. I’m from… well, not anywhere near here, actually. We mostly just traded dried fish.”

Great lie, Solveig. Five out of five, no notes!

“I can respect that. At least you worked for your survival!” Rick declared triumphantly. “I’ve been working since I was a mere child too. Balancing massive merchant ledgers, writing trade proposals, sitting through endless stakeholder meetings while these traditional royals slept as the money came to them. From where, you ask? No. Whom. The legacy students look down their noses and call it 'kid-stuff,' but they have no concept of risk-taking.”

What is this guy rambling about...?

Ugh. I need to set the score, otherwise he was going to go down a really dark and twisted path, like I did!

“Rick, I think you’re just doing this a little too fast.”

Rick looked confuzzled to the muzzle. “What do you mean? I’m behind. I’m playing catch-up here. You’re starting sound like those jealous nepobabies who didn’t have to work for their luxury. Well, I am a nepobaby—but I’m smart enough not to waste it.”

“And I think that’s real admirable.”

Rick proceeded to blush profusely.

“But I can just… give you some advice?” Solveig followed up.

“Enlighten me, then, oh travelled sage.”

“Once upon a time, I'd convinced myself that exhaustion was the same thing as doing right by people. That if I was suffering enough, it must mean I cared enough. Nah, it doesn't work like that. It just means you're tired, and tired people make monstrous choices and call them sacrifices."

Rick, for possibly the first time since she'd met him, had nothing to say.

"You don't have to out-suffer your family name, Rick. That's not a debt you can work off. You just end up paying it with pieces of yourself until there's nothing left to prove anything to anyone. It made a worst warl—sorry, a worse person.”

Uncle helped her realize this kind of thing. Much too late...

“It sure sounds like you’re just trying to hold me back," he replied.

“Hah. That’s what I would have said back then too. But… when I look back…” Solveig shook her head. “Look, I don’t control you. In the end, I’m nobody. Just sharing what it’s like, that’s all.”

And I need to keep an eye on Cain, so stop bothering me please—

Oh Gods!

Cain's mana output was spilling like a damn FOUNTAIN!

Cain Anger Meter: 51%

Crud, crud, crud! I had to do something—because clearly her student hadn't resolved his issues, and frankly, she didn't trust him to keep it together.

But how?! Solveig'd have to do something drastic to be able to knock some sense into him...

Her thoughts would halt abruptly when the trumpets sounded once more in a little jingle.

Slowly but surely, the noise around her dimmed into a lull.

“Hrafen Academy is among the oldest magical academies in the world, or the oldest, depending on whether you classified educational institutions as ‘academies’ earlier or not. Regardless, I am sure that blah blah blahblah blah…”

The world faded into noise as Solveig stared worriedly at the noble boy at the front.

I needed to do something… and quickly…!