Selfday, 1 Second Winter

2889 Tranquil Era

Since exams ended yesterday, many students decided to leave campus for their eight-week winter break. Malou didn’t blame them, but it made walking around campus feel like an exercise in being surveilled. Although the Sea Legions had left, their presence had been replaced with a much larger number of Gendarme. They patrolled in groups of three—two with a hand always on their rapiers and the third with a crossbow.

The Legionnaires had been almost suspiciously easy to convince that Gavriel led her to the lecture hall after the dinner hour to privately ask if she’d consider him for courtship. Then once they escorted the two of them outside, Haddou was waiting to ferry them away before too many questions could be asked. Malou shouldn’t be on anyone’s radar, but she couldn’t help but wonder if the empire somehow knew the Teir was still on campus, that they were trying to smoke it out through intimidation.

Malou wouldn’t be intimidated, but she did feel restricted. Laure hadn’t come back yet and moving around campus without her secretary watching her back made her feel more exposed. The thought that Laure would ever not simply be there when needed had never entered her mind. Laure had always just been there. More than either of her parents had ever been.

The loss of Laure, even if temporary, felt like half of her mind was missing, and the anxiety of this perceived lack only set her more on edge. Even more than that, it felt like she’d lost one of the most important people in her life. What if Laure never came back? How could she protect the Teir without Laure? Why hadn’t she tried to find out what synchronization would entail? Why hadn’t she asked Laure more questions about needing to restart?

When she’d received a message on Fiveday that she’d been assigned a studio in Ghislieri College, she’d wanted to ask Laure who else had lived there before her. When she’d gotten the key and brought in the first of her valises this morning, she’d wanted to ask Laure what she thought of the new space. Would they be able to make a home here? Would it be any different than living in her mother’s flat?

Now, with her last valise in hand, she wished she had Laure to reassure her everything would be fine. All Malou could do at this point was tell herself that Laure would come back anytime now. Anytime now.

“Are you nervous?” Gavriel asked, coming from down the hall. There’d been an impromptu Libertines meeting in the morning. Thankfully, Haddou had agreed to meet them when they were ready.

“Just this last bag,” she said, lifting it and ignoring his question altogether. The door to her mother’s flat shut behind her.

He squinted at her but didn’t press her to answer him this time. Instead, he took her bag and asked as they headed out together, “Do you like the studio? Ghislieri is supposed to be real opulent.”

Ghislieri College was well-known for being the preferred option for most of the patrician family members who chose to study at Tousieux University, Malou’s mother included. It tended to be where students from families with status in other regions also stayed when they studied here. It hadn’t occurred to her that she’d be placed here. She would’ve preferred living with Premier Casals than being surrounded by people like her mother or Dorian.

“It’s nice, of course,” Malou answered, thinking about its loggias of tightly spaced columns opening into serpentine arches that mirrored the designs of the long windows. An imposing design that nonetheless intimated a certain lightness and grace. “Reminds me of being in Novenzia but without the sea view, sea breeze, or the sun.”

Gavriel laughed. “Sounds absolutely miserable.”

Once outside, they passed the Gendarme standing guard outside Lussier Hall and walked slowly toward Ghislieri so Gavriel could tell her about the Libertines meeting. Aaro and Senna had made it to the hidden entrance to the secret tunnels just fine, and Aaro hadn’t made any indication that he was injured at all in Gavriel’s eyes. Hearing that gave Malou the first taste of relief she’d felt in a long time, but it turned bitter fast.

The air had a crisp cold to it that whispered that there’d be ice tonight, maybe even snow soon. Would there still be Gendarme on campus by then or would they patrol until the new academic year started in First Spring? Perhaps they’d become permanent features of the campus, driving off new students, new scholars, and new grants. After having failed to steal the Teir or arrest enough Libertines to call the operation a success, it seemed the empire had found another way to target Tousieux.

By the time they arrived at Ghislieri, they’d crossed paths with nine Gendarme and then another three that were stationed outside of the main entrance to the park that surrounded the college. Grand magnolia trees, lemon trees, and pomegranate trees lined the intricately tiled walkways to the main garden terrace of Ghislieri Hall. Travornese-style relief ornaments capped the loggia of the ground floor arcade, but a stone staircase led directly to the main floor above.

A statue of the two founders of the empire stood at either side of the entrance to the student residential hall—one of Isadora Sidonia Elizalde and the other of Soraya Cecília Casals y Ibaguirre, best friends who miraculously overthrew the war-hungry Nuyeren Kingdom and then persuaded the surrounding diplomatic kingdoms of Travorno, Caseille, Bieleden, and Drondaal into forming a unified empire during World War III. This was another reason why it didn’t make sense for the Crowned Consul to make a target of Tousieux. The Second Revern Empire wouldn’t exist without the university.

When she opened the door to her studio with her silver, Gavriel released an unnecessarily loud scoff as he ambled through the hallway. To the right, a modest bathroom with a claw-footed bathtub. To the left, a semi-private bedroom with less-than-ideal space for all the clothes her mother had bought her over the years. Tall ceilings with dark chevron-patterned wood floors, the studio wasn’t that different from her mother’s flat.

“So miserable,” Gavriel said, setting her last valise down by the others she’d carried over next to the stone fireplace. “It’s very white, though. Shockingly white. White everything. If you get a stain on the sofa, do you think they’ll just replace it for you?”

“I don’t think it quite works like that,” she said.

“Oh, I think it does.” He pointed to her luggage. “Why haven’t you started unpacking at all? It couldn’t have taken you all morning to walk all this over.”

“I don’t know.” She sat at the dining table that separated her kitchen area from her living area with a long sigh. “It doesn’t feel real. Nothing feels very real anymore. This time last week, I was at my grandfather’s funeral with the Teir in my pocket and Brosch’s death hanging in the back of my mind.” The next part she said quietly as if she didn’t want to hear herself say it, “It’s almost been a week since Mother left.”

Gavriel studied her for a long moment. “I’ll help you unpack. Could be nice doing something mundane and normal. Death is pretty mundane and normal, too, when you think about it. Death is natural. We’re all going to die at some point. Where should I start?”

“Profound,” she said and pointed to the largest of her valises.

He grabbed it without hesitating and lifted it onto the table in front of her. “I still remember the first dead body I ever saw,” he said while opening the valise, so nonchalant, “and my first was a long time ago.”

Normally, he probably would’ve stopped here, but he’d since told her more about his family and their connection to a criminal organization in Meininsing that the Libertines had been supporting for a decade. She saw a part of him so clearly now that he’d felt like he had to hide from her before, and she appreciated that more than this sad attempt at comforting her.

“I’d been digging around in some back-alley trash hoping to find something to eat. Didn’t anticipate finding some poor man with a dagger in his bloating stomach. That smell was something else, won’t ever fucking forget it. Took the dagger, traded it for some food. Death seems so far away when we’re young, but it’s always right there. We’re just taught not to look at it in the face. Ugly as fuck, isn’t it?”

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just started unpacking with him. Books on the recessed shelves on either side of the fireplace. Clothes in her wardrobe and the trunk at the foot of her canopy bed. Her father’s collection of Svaran and Samouvean loose leaf teas in her empty kitchen pantry.

Seeing Brosch right after he’d been killed had been different than attending her father or grandfather’s funerals. Knowing Brosch had been alive one moment and then dead the next, and that she’d been right there the whole time and could do nothing to save him, had changed something in her. Knowing a person could do that to another person, without a single care, had changed the way she looked at the world. Neither for the better.

When they’d gone through half her valises, a knock at the door interrupted them. Malou figured it would be Ghislieri Hall’s rector coming to check in on the progress of her move, but she opened the door to Rupa’s bright smile and excited wave.

“Hello, Malou!” Rupa wore casual clothes in a more Behestri style, an indigo-dyed tunic showing side seams left open below the waist and a pair of closely fitted pants that gathered at the ankles. “Wow, your new studio is stunning. But, of course, it’s Ghislieri. It really suits you, I think. Anyway, I came to deliver a letter. Is Gavriel Eng here, too, by any chance? Vice-Premier Casals said that he would be…”

“Nice to see you again,” Malou greeted, returning the warmth Rupa seemed to carry with her all the time while in the back of her mind wondered if being placed in Ghislieri was Zeynel’s doing. She stepped aside so Rupa could see Gavriel. “He’s here, yeah. Would you like to come in for some tea or something? It’s nice enough, but it’s still just a studio and can always be made better with good company.”

When Rupa spotted Gavriel, her eyes widened before she dropped her gaze to the letter. “Sorry to bother you. I didn’t mean—” She held it out. Both Malou and Gavriel’s names were scribbled on the envelope. “Thank you, really, but I just came to deliver this. It’s for both of you.”

“You didn’t bother us,” Malou reassured her. The fake courtship seemed to be more trouble than it was worth, but as long as the Gendarme were on campus, they had to play their part of the lie. Was Rupa imagining she’d interrupted some romantic cleaning session? She took the letter from Rupa. “Thank you. Are you sure you don’t want something to drink?”

“No,” Rupa said, almost too quickly. She gave a short bow. “No, thank you. I should get going. Lots of work to do. I’m sure you know. Take care!” She waved again, this time with her whole arm, as she hurried back down the hallway to the elevator that’d take her to the main floor.

Malou waved back until she couldn’t see the girl anymore, then she closed the door and turned to Gavriel. “That was Rupa.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Zeynel’s new messenger? She seems way too kind for him. Not that you’re not kind. Just—you must know how intimidating you look to everyone else but let me stop before I say something I regret. The letter?”

“I can’t help that I’m tall.” She didn’t bother using magic to tear open the envelope. “Besides, Rupa took one look at you and ran. Don’t talk to me about intimidating. He wants to meet tonight.”

“You are not intimidating because you’re tall.” Amusement shined in his eyes, but he rolled them and took the letter when she offered it. “I usually visit after a Libertines meeting anyway. Guess this means he knows what Lavrras’s letter said since this is basically inviting you along for the report.”

“A report that I suppose he didn’t think you’d give me first? You two share similarly low opinions of each other. It doesn’t tell us if he delayed sending the letter or if Dad had asked for it to be, though.”

She moved to her fireplace and started its false flames. Her mind went back to the last time she’d seen Zeynel. The smell of snowdrops on his mantle. The hug he’d given her first thing when she’d stepped into his office. The dark expression on his face when he’d dismissed her. She’d been wanting to see him ever since, much more than she cared to admit.

Gavriel slid the letter back into the envelope. “Let’s just ask him. Fuck it. How long do you think it’ll be with Haddou? We can visit him before or after. I like the idea of making him wait better, though.”

Of course, he would. “Dad meditated for hours sometimes. There was that one time when he’d been meditating before we went to bed and he still was when we woke up. Sometimes it was an hour maximum, though. Maybe not all of those times were the same kind of meditating.”

“Maybe? Suppose we’ll find out. At least we can assume Lavrras told you she could use magic so you’d seek her out to teach you how to use it and that she won’t teach us any lies.” Gavriel tossed the envelope into the fire, and it burned quickly. “Let’s finish unpacking and make your bed. You’ll regret it if we don’t at least do the latter.”

Although she wanted to hurry to Haddou, she continued their work of spreading pieces of her life around the studio. Learning how to meditate was the only way for them to really learn how to use magic, and they were going to need to learn if they were going to protect the Teir from the empire. As much as her father might have prepared them for it, was just them.

Looking back, much of what her father had done made a lot of sense. They couldn’t rule out that hadn’t always known they’d have to protect the Teir together someday. From an early age, he’d had them start martial arts training along with learning how to handle various weapons. He’d had Gavriel involved in the most important aspects of the Libertines while teaching Malou how to use magic. He’d helped her program Laure—if only she’d come back. Anytime now, right?

After the rector finally checked in on her and they’d finished unpacking, her father’s large quartz crystal cluster the last to find a spot on her fireplace mantle, they left to meet with Haddou. They walked beneath a young crescent in the dusky sky marking the start of the new lunar cycle.

Haddou answered the door the same way she had when Malou had come with Rupa before—with a cigar in hand. A scowl on her face, her eyes darted between Malou and Gavriel. “Are you two still faking a courtship?”

Gavriel released a breathy laugh and knitted his fingers with Malou’s while she nodded her head. “Faking, Professor? Not us. Our courtship is very real.”

Haddou snorted but opened the door more. “Well, come in, then.”

The flat was fragrant with frankincense and myrrh burning off incense sticks that swirled with the smell of Haddou’s cigar. Malou and Gavriel took off their shoes in the entryway and followed her into the living room, the floors covered in overlapping rugs in bold Jadaali designs. The lights were dimmed and hanging stained glass lanterns cast intricate designs against the walls in similar patterns as the tiles that lined the arched windows and doors.

“Have the Gendarme acted strange around you at all?” Haddou asked. When Malou shook her head as she took a seat on the velvet floor cushions, Haddou continued, “No? Good. You taught this one the basics, yes? Okay. Sit. I’ll bring over some tea and bread.”

Gavriel sat next to her, then leaned forward to study the white and silver candles burning on some of the short wooden stools placed near the cushions. On one stool, sage smoldered in an abalone shell. When Haddou returned, she set down an elaborately engraved silver-plated tray carrying a beautiful matching teapot, colorful tea glasses, and a plate of bread on the stool closest to them. She poured the tea while standing.

“Do either of you have any questions before we start?” Haddou asked, offering them each a cup. “Because you’ll be exhausted after you meditate and might not have the chance after.” She took a seat diagonally from them on the cushions and sucked in a long draw from her cigar. “Mint tea. Bread’s got some olive oil drizzled on top. No poison.”

“Why would you need to tell us it’s not poisoned?” Gavriel asked, reaching for the tea anyway. All the courtesy he’d shown her at her retirement party must’ve dissipated while he’d watched her cheat away the money he’d wanted to get out of her by winning.

“Any other questions?”

“I wanted to ask about what you said before,” Malou said. She blew across the surface of the tea gently. Minted green tea, a favorite of her mother’s from her travels to Jadaaliyah. “You said that my dad might have even partially bonded me to someone. What does that mean?”

“Right. I didn’t have time to explain much, did I?” Haddou sipped some of her tea, then rested the cup on her knee. “When you promise to protect someone else with that person’s consent using magic, you become a soulbonded pair. Before the Tranquil Era, we called people who used magic sìasaliye, and someone who promised to protect another sìasaliye was called their saiwaaliye. Or for short, a sìas and their waaliye. The closest translation in Revernais would probably be something like a magic guardian. Their waaliye gains an almost subconscious connection to the sìas they’ve promised to protect—to the point where their waaliye will have a general awareness of their wellbeing, location, and even sometimes their emotional state and thoughts depending on the promise and the strength of the bond. The longer two people are bonded, the stronger the bond becomes. This connection lasts until either the sìas no longer wants to be protected or the waaliye no longer wants to protect them, or otherwise, they remain connected even in the afterlife, which I explained already.”

“Is it possible for two people to be mutually soulbonded?” Gavriel asked before Malou could. “For them to be each other’s waaliye?”

Haddou grinned. “Yes, and that’s what I suspect Lavrras may have done in this case.”

That magic her father had tickled her palm with—that hadn’t been just a tickle. “I think you’re right,” she said. “Dad had Gavriel and I promise to protect each other before he died.”

“Well, a promise isn’t quite the same as a soulbond, though. He’d have to have used magic, and you would’ve had to repeat the promise and have truly meant it.”

“He used magic,” Malou confirmed.

“And I meant it. But wouldn’t I have needed to also be able to use magic for the soulbond to work properly? Malou’s been trying to help me use magic a bit already, and it is not going well.” Gavriel gave a dry laugh.

Malou was sure he could use magic as well since her father had said everyone used to be able to use it, but perhaps she didn’t know enough herself to be able to teach anyone. “Just because I’m not a good teacher doesn’t mean you can’t use it.”

“Lavrras may have supplemented your promise,” Haddou said. “No one is born with the innate knowledge of how to use magic anymore, but that doesn’t mean we don’t all have some magic in us. There is still some magic in everything, just not enough to do nearly anything we could do before magic was sealed. I suppose, theoretically, because he was already in relation with both of you, he may have been able to act as a medium between your promises. Not something I’ve heard done before, but it’s also not something I’d put past Lavrras. He was brilliant with magic in a way none of the rest of us were, that bastard.”

Brilliant with magic? Malou wished she’d known that before now. She wished she’d been able to see him use it more—to do with magic what others could only theorize.

“I knew Malou was in danger and reacted before I saw or registered the danger,” Gavriel said, and for a moment, Malou remembered with a deep ache seeing Gavriel in danger and the way she’d moved to protect him as if her own life had depended on it. “In the process, I killed two people, but isn’t magic supposed to not harm?”

“Magic helped you protect her, but you didn’t use magic to harm them, did you?” Haddou asked. When Gavriel shook his head no, she continued, “Magic is naturally inclined away from harm, meaning that unless you willfully use it to do harm, it will disperse from your control as soon as you think of the harm you want to do. To harm with magic is not easy. It is a fight until the very last moment, and then it is not a fight at all because it’s no longer the same magic as before. However, that’s a much darker conversation than I wanted us to have tonight. The sage isn’t here for nothing. Meditating is hard work, and it’s best to have an open and calm mind. It does sound like you two have a soulbond-like connection, as I suspected. That means Lavrras wanted you both to learn how to use magic. So do you have any other questions, or can we get started?”

So the pull to protect each other they’d both felt had been magic, and it’d resulted from one night in front of a fireplace and a short exchange of promises. A soulbond they’d had for ten years now and that would only grow stronger. Was this part of yet another of her father’s plans to keep the Teir protected?

“We’re ready,” Malou said. “You mentioned ratings and games?”

Haddou cracked a grin. “Yes, the rating system. So what’s going to happen here seems relatively simple on the surface. The most important thing for meditating is to achieve a state of mind most conducive to reflecting your true imaginative vision—whatever that means like for you. For many, it takes several attempts to truly meditate and meet your ancestors. I can only guide you there. I’ve got white candles for clarity and protection and silver candles for imagination and dreams. I’m burning sage, frankincense, and myrrh to cleanse the space. I will talk you through clearing your mind and calling to your ancestors, but you have to get yourself there in your mind on your own.”

“No pressure,” Gavriel said. “And I’m assuming we can’t fake it.”

Haddou barked out a laugh. “How can you fake something you’ve never experienced? I bet Lavrras loved the shit out of you. Hilarious.” She dapped at the corner of her eye where a reflex tear had formed from the potency of her fun at their relative expense.

“While it might seem impossible now,” Haddou continued, “you two both need to do this tonight. You need to start learning magic now, not tomorrow or the next day when it could be too late. Fuck, it might already be too late. Lucky for you both, I’ve got a few herbs that can help get you there, though they’re not without faults. You will both meditate tonight, you understand me?”

Professor Haddou stood to put out the sage in some black sand and pour them both more tea. “You will meet one of your ancestors—usually it’s one of your oldest or youngest ancestors. Personalities differ and ancestral politics are always elusive. Whoever it is, they’ll use a rating system that determines your relative skill level through a tournament of games designed to test your mastery of magic and the execution of your imagination. Ancestors request all kinds of games, but they’re all exercises in imagining and executing the conditions to win, whatever that may mean. If you win against one, you get some points off their rating. If you lose, they get points off yours. To move from Apprentice to Master, for example, you’d need a rating of at least 2300 over twenty or more games. And nine of those would have to be against Masters.”

The range in duration of her father’s meditations made sense now. Perhaps some games were quick, presumably with ancestors who were rated lower than him. If he was brilliant, then maybe many of his ancestors were ranked lower than him. The longer he meditated, the more difficulty he’d had in securing a win. Haddou had mentioned that there were also Grandmasters and Elders. Maybe he was a Grandmaster and he’d been playing against an Elder.

How long would it take her to master magic enough to protect the Teir?

“So if that Rojagat game with you had been with an ancestor,” Malou said, “I would’ve lost.”

Gavriel helped himself to the newly poured tea. “I didn’t even know she was using magic, that’s how bad I lost.”

“I hope one of your ancestors asks you to play Rojagat.” Haddou howled with laughter. “Malou did well for what little she knows. Maybe you caught on that I was using magic to screw you over, but wouldn’t you have done things differently had you known I’d counter your magic with mine to begin with—or if you knew I was using magic to cheat in the first place?”

“Goes without saying.”

“Of course.” Malou had thought about how she’d do it differently probably a hundred times and had even cheated against Senna just to practice. Though, now that she knew he’d been a secret Libertine the entire time, she felt a bit less guilty about that.

“Whether it’s Rojagat or hand-to-hand combat, you know that your ancestor will be using magic. The whole point is to practice using magic against someone who is using magic. You can train in the real world, but especially since magic was sealed, there are limitations. Those limitations do not exist in your imagination unless you imagine them in the first place. Now, are you ready?”

Gavriel grabbed some bread. “Yeah, sounds like it’s impossible to be ready, but sure.” He tore off a piece and sat back. “What’s first?”