Epilogue: Someone Great

THE STUDENT COUNCIL PRESENTS: RAVENSPOKE MONTHLY

Vol. 2, 3122 ADK

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MASTER PRANKSTER OR UNSTABLE COCKTAIL?

Illustrated: The scene at the Grand Oratory two days ago

It wasn't Isolde's finest hour.

At Hrafen Academy, we pride ourselves on our inclusive nature; it is, after all, what makes us a true representative of the state's premier magic academy. Which is precisely why so many eyebrows were raised when one of our newest Entrants, Solveig, was seemingly pushed to the brink two days ago following a string of inflammatory comments from Isolde herself.

It remains unknown how Isolde obtained the information she used against Solveig. This publication reached out to her for comment. She did not respond.

Whatever the source, her bid for Student Council President has surely been tainted by the fact that she drove a new student nearly to the point of breaking, in full view of a packed lecture hall.

However, that point of breaking had, allegedly, explosive implications. What we heard seems pure conjecture; it is highly unlikely that the rumors of a single student acting as a Dwarven Megabomb could be true, for instance.

Nevertheless, it would've resulted in tragedy regardless, as it did seem to cause structural damage of some sort to the academy, and could have resulted in some loss of life.

Thus, Solveig was swiftly put to a Trial of the Thousand, a grave measure that has not been doled out in decades. Readers might recall the expulsion of Mad Paulie and the illegal alchemical lab he was running in a hidden section of Hrafen Academy. It was a long time ago!

Regardless, for those who could not make it to the Trial of the Thousand, matters came to a head when six of Solveig's friends, notably including D'Igoll, whose involvement has drawn ire even among his fellow demihuman supporters, stepped up to the podium to testify in her defense regarding the alleged near-explosion.

"Exploding" is, admittedly, a vague and generous term. What can be said with certainty is that a sizeable chunk of the classroom would not have survived the encounter had it not been for the heroics of Cain the Second.

In a twist nobody saw coming, four additional Companions, all of them notably from House Blackmore, Isolde's own house, stepped forward as the remaining witnesses needed to automatically spare Solveig of expulsion.

The events of that day remain under private investigation by the school administration, and no further comment is expected until the inquiry concludes.

THE RACE FOR STUDENT COUNCIL PRESIDENT 3123, AS IT STANDS:

1. Isolde Blackmore (~)

2. D’Igoll Sharpclaw (~)

9. Cain Cunningham, the Second (+6)

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WHO IS SHE, REALLY? A READER POLL, FOLLOW-UP EDITION

Illustrated: Candid depiction of Solveig "the Great," now unavoidable

A lot can change in a week.

Seven days ago, most of the student body knew Solveig only as the loud transfer tutor attached to Cain Cunningham. Today, after her rather emphatic showing at the Trial of Combat against Isolde Blackmore, that framing may quietly go out of circulation.

We won't relitigate the whole match here. Suffice it to say that Isolde, undefeated in every Trial Blackmore House has record of, is not undefeated anymore.

A note on methodology, before we get to results: last week's poll drew several increasingly pointed letters from the Arithmancy Society, correctly observing that four hand-picked camps, tallied by one editor at the Hub board at two in the morning, do not constitute research. In the spirit of Hrafen's academic standards, we've moved to a proper five-point scale this week.

How do you currently feel about Solveig "the Great," following the events of the Trial of Combat?

Very Negative: 8%

Negative: 29%

No Opinion: 18%

Positive: 33%

Very Positive: 12%

n = 412, self-selected respondents, ballots cast at the Hub board over five days

In related news, Isolde's campaign has declined to comment.

\\

For most in Hrafen Academy, life went on as normal. It had been an entertaining semester so far, at the very least.

But for some... it couldn't be more different.

\\

ISOLDE

Seren leaned on the wall of Isolde's clubroom, her expression neutral.

"I'm sorry you didn't get the outcome you wanted," the Quadrantinien said.

"It isn't ideal, yes..."

"I hope we can continue to work toward a common goal, then—"

Isolde raised her hand. "I appreciate our friendship, Seren... but please... don't make your intentions any more obvious than they already are."

Seren frowned. "What could I possibly gain from a bunch of students?"

"The future. We are the future of this country. And you're looking to invest."

"What a cynical perspective."

Seren smiled, pushed off the wall, and walked toward the door.

"In this case, you'd right to worry. I did invest. And I'm looking for some compensation having spotted for you, you know! And I may have very angry people that can come your way if you don't pay up~"

"...What do you people want?"

Seren put a finger to her chin.

"Hmm..." She shrugged. "Don't know yet, actually!"

She grinned.

"But trust me. Quadrantinien's honor. I will come to collect."

Seren walked out and closed the door behind her.

Isolde waited a good thirty seconds afterwards.

"NNNGAAHHH!!!"

Walking to her desk, she grabbed the Ravenspoke newsletter and ripped it clean in half.

They made her a villain.

The paper fell through the air in a singsong way and fluttered onto the floor.

They made House Blackmore look like fools!

Her teeth ground.

Weak!

And ground.

FEEBLE!

Isolde was two steps away from becoming a PARIAH on this campus!

And all because even her enemies had rallied around Solveig, coalesced almost, like everyone was in on a joke House Blackmore was the butt of.

It was almost funny, if Isolde let herself think about it for too long… how ridiculous the whole thing sounded on paper. A girl like Solveig… killing a Great Mother Bear?

It enraged her because it all seemed so… pointless. Those great beasts kept to themselves! They protected the forest!

The Bear was among her favorites…

They only defended themselves and stood their ground when forced to!

That meant Solveig had to go search for them, deliberately! They hid themselves well. It must have taken days or weeks to finally find the bear.

But there was a little thought in the back of her mind that kept creeping up…

What if Solveig had been set up, as she claimed?

The Bear's eyes glowing purple… nothing in the sacred texts of Hrafen had ever alluded to such an effect being invoked. Not that she'd believe a word Solveig said, as hers was the only word to go by…

Yet…

What if the Quadrant's people had simply lied to Isolde to get what they wanted?

She shook her head. Why did she even entertain the thought?

But what would the Quadrant even gain from it? All they'd asked in return was that the Quadrant reps keep mingling among House Blackmore. More of it, more often. What did that mean? What was she actually doing every time she smiled at some third-year she'd never have spoken to a month ago?

…Maybe it was better not to follow that thought all the way down.

She reached for the cup instead and drank.

The Quadrant's tonics really were as good as advertised. Even her best poison testers hadn't detected anything wrong with them.

Isolde swallowed.

Better.

Much better.

Isolde found that she no longer cared whether the Quadrant was her enemy. Everything sharpened into clarity.

And that clarity told her one thing:

Action.

The Quadrant could be dealt with later.

Solveig had taken her Companion, after all. Dreamwalker had turned on her outright and had brought four more little friends along to help do it, an entire clique built, it seemed, for the sole purpose of making Isolde into a joke.

What a joke. What an absolute, crying joke!

You're just a kitten that's pissed on my rug one too many times, she thought. I own you, you dirty commonblood. I outrank you in every way that matters. You are going to beg for my attention before this is finished, because by the time I'm done there won't be anyone else left for you to beg.

Cain would be dealt with eventually. Erased, if it came to that.

But maybe Solveig would go first.

Whether through scandals… through Cain… or through whoever else was closest…

I will do whatever it takes to make your life here a living HELL.

"Prepare yourself, little piggy. I'm coming for you."

\\

SOLVEIG

"You feeling better?"

Solveig looked at Cain, deadpan. "Hells nyo."

"I should have expected that kind of answer, now that I think about it." Cain coughed. "So, uhh... no permanent soul fractures this time around, though? Right?"

"N-Not that I can tell... but if it helps to know that I'm suffering, then I'll say it. Everything aches. Like I was run over by horse-drawn carriages carrying ten pounds of clay. Got a problem with that?"

Cain laughed nervously. "Definitely not!"

"Good!"

Solveig sank back into her pillow and sat with her thoughts for a while.

"What are you going to do, after this... anyway?" she asked Cain eventually. "We... we still got school to get through."

"My goal is simple, dear tutor," he said. "Keep it up, and ascend the rankings. It's gonna take a lot, but... well, I went on my first run outside without you. Even with the girls jeering at me the whole way."

Solveig stared at him.

"That can't be your only goal."

"Fine, fine. I'm also going to be on the lookout for more state destabilizers, if that's what you're implying. Isolde and her goons… they can't be the only ones driving this kingdom further into Quadrant hands. Especially before the main guests from the Kingdom of Solomon arrive." He paused. "Now, that's kind of terrifying."

"Solomon sounds... familiar."

"They're mostly demons. Horns, red skin, everything. I hear they're lovely people, though. Anyway, some new students and staff are coming to visit."

Solveig filed that away without a word. Thinking hurt right now, so she let it sit.

"From day one, you said I was an annoying brat." She looked at him sideways. "Has that changed?"

Cain shook his head. "No. Not really."

Solveig sighed. "Guess I have work to do."

"But I don't think you really need to change who you are."

"I could have killed you, you know. For real, this time. But you stayed anyway." She stared at the ceiling. "And everything that happened, well, it happened because of how I am. How I'm built. So yes, I need to keep changing. I can't afford that happening ever again."

"But wouldn't you erase what makes you, you?" Cain tapped his feet against the floor. "Look. Things are very simple from my perspective. You didn't fail me. You're... you're helping me, really. So no conditions, from now on. Understand?"

Cain bowed low.

"Thank you for taking care of me… and being my teacher, Ms. Solveig."

This praise was getting a little out of hand!

"...O-Of course," Solveig said.

Her heart fluttered, and it only further confirmed that she was addicted to the praise and would need more in the coming weeks.

"Now, will you please leave me alone so I can get some shut-eye?" she grumbled. "It must be, like, somewhere between three and dawn..."

"Well, it's only midnight!" he cried.

"Oh, wow. Midnight. Peak human activity time, really."

"Nah." Cain chuckled. "Come on. I wanna show you something, follow me."

He pulled her up before she could argue, and they walked together through the quiet halls of the palace, footsteps echoing off stone gone cold for the night.

Eventually he stopped outside a door and pushed it open onto a room with no lights on at all.

What was happening...

"TA DA!!!" "TA DAAA!" "SURPRISEEEE!"

The candle lights came up all at once, and there were all her friends?!

Why would they be hiding in the dark? Was this an ambush?!

Strangest ambush Solveig had ever personally seen, though.

Bobby, her loyal minion, beamed at her from the front of the crowd. "Hey, boss!"

The demihuman boy gestured at something in front of them. Through her bleary eyes, she couldn't make out much... but it was...

It looked like food?

"What's that?" she asked.

Bobby grinned. "A cake!"

"What's a cake...?" she asked, feeling dumb.

"You don't know what a... man, that's... Oh. Oh! Silly me and my privileged upbringing, you're from a tribe! It's a baked good for an extra special occasion~"

"Tribal life does not necessarily mean lesser upbringing, you know," Solveig growled.

She was growling for another reason, in reality.

This all seemed so unnecessary. What was there to even celebrate?

"Usually we bake it for birthdays..." People baked such beautiful pieces of art for people's namedays?! "...but this is our one exception!"

Rick smiled. "The ingredients were easy enough to obtain."

"It's a 'recovery cake,'" D'Igoll said, shaking his head. "Strange human customs…"

"Mister Farhen baked it," Rolli and Rita said simultaneously, gesturing at the enormous, faintly lopsided thing sitting proudly in the center of the table.

"R-Rick... D'Igoll... Rolli, Rita, Bobby! This is all too much; I barely know you guys! And you barely know me…"

"Does it matter?" Rick challenged. "It's common courtesy. Especially for someone we hold dear."

"I hope bonds aren't that fickle where you're from," D'Igoll chided. "It should be a celebration in and of itself that you're still with us."

It just... it refused to compute in her mind. These people took time out of their busy lives... for her little one. How was the exchange mathematically appropriate?

Did the math not matter to these people?

Farhen puffed up immediately. "I'll have you know, Solveig, that I'm a master baker. Call me a bad teacher, a bad magic user, a bad person, whatever you like. But you come after my title as best chef in this academy, and we will have a reckoning."

Outside the window, the first firework cracked open across the sky in a bloom of gold.

"It is a special set of fireworks, so I'm told. It's probably the world's only narrative firework show," D'Igoll said, watching it with his arms crossed. "They've apparently named the display 'Dedicated to a Little Flame.'"

Solveig's heart stuttered to a stop.

"Really?" Rita said. "That's the actual name? Doesn't sound very formal to me. Who's 'they,' anyway?"

"Noooo idea," came the answer, from everyone and no one in particular.

"Jeez. Hrafen sure is mysterious."

But Solveig knew. She just kept that memory for Uncle Hrafen, and for no one else.

Green light flooded the room, again and again, in time with each new burst overhead.

It was euphoric, the way her skin rose in gooseflesh, the hairs on her arms standing on end.

It was telling a story, she realized. The fireworks were outlining a little girl, growing up, burst by burst. When the display started, the girl couldn't hold a sword, couldn't cast a single spell to save her life. The people around her had ridiculed her for it.

But when the big, scary monsters came, the little one began to act.

She fought. She bled. Yet she triumphed.

Then she grew stronger, and taller, until she dwarfed the very same people who had once tried to demean her.

Uncle Hrafen…

Tears ran down her face before she'd even noticed them start.

Uncle Hrafen…!

"Hey." A hand found her shoulder, and Solveig turned toward it. Cain's face was close, worried. "Are you okay?"

Solveig nodded.

"I think I will be."

Solveig looked back at Farhen, and the cake, and the whole ridiculous room of people she barely knew who nonetheless trusted her with their friendship.

Then she looked at Cain, that sweet, sweet boy.

Am I going to be okay?

Maybe... maybe not.

But I know I won't do it alone.