Chapter 20: An Uncomfortable Occasion

“No.”

“Come on Sel! At least try on the skirt! You’d look so cute!”

Once again, Mel tried to trick her into something brightly colored. The vibrant colors causing a deep ache in her eyes and soul.

Sel remained adamant. Light colors didn’t suit her at all. She’d rather wear the white pajamas than the hideous pink skirt Mel was offering her. The bright garment so offensive to the eye, that it was no surprise that she’d never seen Mel in it. Probably a hand-me-down from her sister Tiffany.

“You could just try it on and then decide? Just for a minute! Just one, and then you can try on whatever you want after!”

“No.”

That way lay danger. First, it was the skirt and then it was “Oh this top would look lovely with…” and “See that wasn’t so bad, right?” or “Why don’t you just…”. The inevitable result being her dressed in some freakish collection of yellows, pinks, and light blues.

Hideous.

Yes, the slope was indeed slippery. Best not to venture close to the edge.

“You’re no fun! Fine. We can go back to your somber blacks and browns, but you have to at least wear a skirt! My pants are too long, and you’d have to roll them up three or four times!”

She considered this for a second.

“…I don’t mind rolling them up?”

“Well, I do! They’ll roll down, and then you’ll step on the hems and put holes in my pants!”

Selina couldn’t deny that. Mel was five inches taller than her, which translated into at least three to four pant “roll”s. The height difference wasn’t an astronomical amount. Nope, not really a big number at all. Truly. Not even worth mentioning, usually.

But it was a significant length when it came to pants.

She is lending me some of her clothes and it would be extremely rude to put holes in them…

“…Fine. I’ll wear a skirt.”

“Yes!” Mel jumped up and down excitedly. Scrambling in the closet for a black skirt. She found it eerily quickly and Selina couldn’t help but feel she’d been tricked.

She reluctantly took the offending garment. Acknowledging that at least the color scheme was ok. Black, black, and a little black for contrast. If only it was a pair of pants and not a skirt, all would be right in the world.

Sel held it in front of her. Examining the pleated garment. Before coming to the conclusion that there were worse things in Mel’s closet.

“Hand me that grey shirt.”

“Why don’t you try—”

“No.”

Heading to the bathroom to change, she locked the door behind her. Quickly pulling the black pleated skirt on. Tightening the waist and smoothing out the wrinkles.

Looking down, she examined the strange garment. It was long on her—reaching midcalf—and felt odd on her skin. She grabbed some of it flicking it around and feeling the fabric as it moved against her legs. The breeze flowing under it played between her legs. It had been a while since she’d worn a dress.

Even as a noble she’d mostly worn pants, only wearing dresses on formal occasions. The nobility tended to be old-fashioned, but even they didn’t expect girls to skip around in skirts if the occasion didn’t require it. As such, on less formal occasions one could decide what one wished to wear.

Sel much preferred pants. Pants couldn’t flip up and show off your unmentionables when an errant wind passed by. Nor were they good for climbing trees, running, or kicking. Though luckily this particular skirt was loose enough that only the most extreme of movements would be impinged by its fabric-y constraints.

Pants also didn’t reveal a scandalous amount of ankle.

She reluctantly left the bathroom and into Mel’s room. Feeling oddly on display in the loose garment. Mel met her at the door, a wide smile on her face.

“Oh, it looks wonderful! You should really try on a different color though. Just for fun?”

Sel stood in the door for a second examining her friend—no—her enemy.

In the time she’d been gone, Mel had changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

She felt betrayed.

“Why aren’t you wearing a skirt?”

“Hmm? Did I need to?”

Mel gave her a puzzled look, smile almost innocent.

Almost.

Mel’s poker face had a long way to go till she could match her fathers.

“…No, you didn’t. Let’s go downstairs.”

It wasn’t worth fighting over. Not right now anyway.

When they arrived in the kitchen, they found Mel’s mom stirring a pot of noodles, a pan of red spaghetti sauce sitting nearby.

“The food will be ready in a few minutes. If you girls could help me set up the table and grab everyone, that would help speed things up. The meeting was moved to the high school and will include both the high school and middle school grades, so we’ll need to arrive early if we’re going to get a parking space.”

Sel wordlessly moved to where she knew the plates were stored. This not being the first time she’d been over to the Quinton’s for a meal. Grabbing a stack, she started setting the plates. With her and the rest of the Quintons, she’d need to set… six places.

Mel grabbed some forks and began arranging the tableware. Grabbing cups and seasonings after.

Sel set down the plates then trailed behind Mel, fixing her mistakes.

The fork should be on the left! And you put the cups on the wrong side! And where are the napkins!? Seriously Mel! No respect for proper dining etiquette!

It was all fine and good to eat however you wanted when there was nobody around, but there was a proper way to go about things in a social setting. A way Mel and her siblings didn’t appreciate at all.

The dining room was rather quiet. Filled with the clink of dishes and the shuffling of feet. After finishing, she looked around to see if there was anything else she should be doing. But found that there wasn’t much else.

The silverware was out, and the seasonings were set. All that was left was the food that was still on the stove for warmth.

Sitting in the guest seat, with Mel beside her, they both waited patiently for lunch to be finished. The aroma of garlic and tomato settling over the kitchen. Her stomach painfully clenching at the smell. Breakfast felt very far away right now.

“Thank you, girls, if you would go fetch Tiffany and Mickey we’ll get started.”

“Ok!” Mel jumped up from her seat and rushed up the stairs to grab her siblings. Sel stood up to follow and then hesitated.

Should I follow? Mel doesn’t really need my help to fetch her siblings, but if I don’t, I’ll be stuck with…

Ms. Quinton smiled at her but didn’t say anything.

Sel sat back down. The opportunity to escape having already left the room in a hurry. It didn’t really matter though as Mel would be back soon anyway.

Sel took this time to watch Mrs. Quinton cook. Stirring a few dishes and moving the completed ones to hot pads arrayed nearby.

What is she thinking?

Mrs. Quinton was quietly tending to the final dinner preparations. Stirring the noodles and sauce while putting away the items that were no longer needed. Occasionally she’d glance over at Sel, much like one would glance up at a skittish animal. Gaze never lingering, as if too long a look would send the critter scampering off.

Sel anxiously looked around the table. It felt wrong to just sit while the host was working, but there really wasn’t much for her to do. She may have known where the utensils and tableware went, but she wasn’t familiar enough to put away any of the remaining items.

Does the garlic get put in the fridge? Is garlic even refrigerated? I feel bad sitting here while Mrs. Quinton is cleaning…

…Apparently, the Quinton’s did store their garlic in the fridge.

Luckily, she didn’t have to fret too long. Not long after Mel had left on her escort quest and Mickey was bouncing down the stairs.

“Mom, what are we eating? Mel said we are going to the High school, but am I going to? Can’t I stay here? I don’t want to—”

He stopped, noticing her sitting on the far seat.

Then, in a whisper that could be heard across the room,

“Mom! Is she eating with us!? Can I sit by her!?”

Sel frowned and looked at the seat next to her. Wasn’t that Mel’s seat? Or did he mean the other one? She didn’t really mind if he wanted to sit next to her, though the request was a bit odd.

She couldn’t for the life of her imagine why an eight-year-old boy would want to sit with her.

“Yes, we are going, and no, you can’t stay home by yourself. Also, if you want to sit next to Selina, you need to ask her, not me.”

Mel and Tiffany walked downstairs. Mel quickly dashing down the stairs to fetch her father while Tiffany found her seat across the table from Sel. Giving her a glare, before sitting down.

Sel watched as Mickey approached, appearing even more nervous than she felt. His hands were clenching and unclenching, his eyes darting around while his cheeks turned a little red.

“Um, c-could I sit next to you? If you don’t mind?”

Sel cocked her head to the side, “Isn’t this Mel’s seat?”

“Yes! Um, yeah, it’s Mel’s seat! You’re right. I guess I’ll sit s-somewhere else then. Sorry!”

“There’s another seat over here though? You can sit in it if you like?”

This was decidedly odd. She kept sending Mrs. Quinton questioning looks. The host was supposed to assign the seating. Why was she, a guest, being made to decide.

Mrs. Quinton just smiled back so with a shrug she’d offered it to Mickey.

“R-right! I knew that! That’s what I meant to ask! I’m just—I’ll—going to sit—!”

By this point, his face was beat red and his eyes were looking a bit wide and watery. Without another word he rushed over to the seat and sat next to her. Face in his hands, his red cheeks showing through the cracks in his fingers.

Sel hoped he was alright. He looked a little flushed.

While her exchange with Mickey had been going on, the rest of the Quinton family had sat at the table. Mr. Quinton sat across from her with Tiffany to his right and Mrs. Quinton to his left. Sitting across from him, she had Mickey on her left and Mel on her right.

Her thoughts didn’t dwell long on the seating though because in front of her sprawled a feast! A tub of spaghetti, and a whole pan of sauce! There were some peas in a bowl and even some toast!

Her stomach howled inside her at the smells that were coming off the food. For her, who’d been forced to cook her own food for the past couple of days this was opulence! Nay, decadence even!

I’m soooo hungry!

“Ehem, I’ll do the honors then.” Mr. Quinton said.

Sel blinked before following. She’d forgotten that Mel’s family offered thanks before a meal. She quickly followed suit. Clasping her hands and bowing her head.

This is silly. It’s not as if the hero can actually hear us. And unless Hero Xander is a girl he’s not even the one who defeated me. Wait—! Maybe Xander is actually a girl! And he’s been hiding his gender for hundreds of years! Wha—

She woodenly joined with the rest of the Quintons. Joining her hands in thanks while her thoughts were in turmoil.

“We thank the hero for enlightening us and saving us from destruction. We seek after the peace that he founded and the prosperity that it has brought. May the flesh continue, may the orb never shatter, and may the steel never break.

“Break.” “Break.” “Break.” “Break.” “Break.”

All thoughts of the hero’s potential gender fled her mind as something much more important came up.

It’s time to eat! Spaghetti trumps world-shattering revelations any day!

By the time it was time to go, Sel felt full to bursting. Like a balloon that had been blown into one-to-many times. Its colorful exterior growing see-through as it was pumped up beyond its safe carrying capacity.

Now with the wisdom of hindsight, she could bashfully admit that she’d probably eaten a bit more than was probably polite, but Mrs. Quinton had insisted she take seconds.

And thirds.

She’d been happy to accept at the time, but now…

So full. It hurts to move. I feel like that time I caught a whole swarm of beetles in my web.

That thought almost sent her over the edge.

No! No bug thoughts! Ever!

Sel felt cramped climbing into the Quinton’s minivan. There were seven seats and only six of them, but it was still a little too tight for her liking. Mostly because Mickey insisted on sitting in the back with Mel and her instead of using the middle seat alongside Tiffany. Some of this probably came from her desire not to be bumped or moved too much.

She gave the boy a suspicious glance but didn’t say anything.

The ride was mostly quiet in the back, the three of them having little to say to each other.

Tiffany on the other hand,

“…Can you believe Blake’s parents said that! They were looking at me like I was a pig that wasn’t fat enough to butcher! They wouldn’t even let me see him! What gives them the right to tell us how we should feel! It’s just so--! Urgh!”

“Tiff, I told you when you started dating that Fury-boy that something like this could happen. Nobles are the dregs of humanity presented prettily on a silver platter. They look wonderful from afar, but all they really care about is preserving their bloodlines, and after that their wealth and influence. With the recent mana burst, they’ll probably want to “peruse the goods” before letting their son settle down. See if any powerful origins appear or if the board changes.”

Mr. Quinton paused.

“Um, no offense Selina. I was mainly talking about other nobles. Not you specifically…”

Sel aimed a dead-eyed stare at the driver’s seat, raising one eyebrow.

Mr. Quinton, I don’t think you can just tac on a “no offense” to the end of a thought and change everything you just said. Seems kinda silly.

Ah well, she didn’t really care that much anyway. Nobles could be jerks too.

“Dear, don’t be so harsh. Not all nobles are so unscrupulous. Just look at Sel! She’s an absolute angel!” Mrs. Quinton said from the front.

Demon Lord actually. Thank you very much.

“And I was good friends with her mother too. So, I won’t have you making such horrible overarching statements.”

Mrs. Quinton’s head popped out behind the front passenger seat as she gave Tiffany a warm smile.

“Tiff, sweety, don’t listen to your father. He wouldn’t like any boy you brought home. He’s just being his usual pessimistic self. I’m sure that once things settle down everything will go back to normal. Things are just a bit hectic now—for everybody—and I’m sure the Fury family is dealing with their own problems just like we are. Give it some time and I’m sure it’ll work out.”

Tiffany sat up straighter in her chair. Perking up like a tree springing back from the wind.

“You really think so?”

“I do.”

Sel didn’t voice her doubts.

The car ride continued mostly in silence. The two adults up front talking in quiet voices, while the three girls and boy sat in the back quietly.

Mickey squirmed next to her. Fidgeting with his hands and glancing around nervously. Mel, on her opposite side, was playing with her unresponsive right arm much like other girls might play with a doll. Moving it around into different poses and watching it flop down once her left arm stopped supporting it.

It looked kinda fun.

Tiffany up in the middle was typing away at her phone. Her fingers frantically texting as her face went through a whole assortment of expressions just as fast. Happy, pouting, pinched, angry, mischievous, back to happy…

Sel in the meantime had found her own way to occupy the boring ride. While being jostled into Mel and Mickey whenever the car took a sharp turn, she busied herself playing with the mana in her heart.

She’d stretch it out as far as she could from its small pool and release it and watch it spring back into its round shape. Sometimes she’d try and pull more from the origin, heaving more and more through the small crack, before she couldn’t hold it any longer and then watch as the extra mana slithered back into the other dimension when her concentration broke.

It was pretty fun. Like playing with playdough. It also felt funny when it jiggled inside of her. A weird ticklish feeling that was inside of her. She remembered doing similar things when she was a spider, but for some reason, it just wasn’t the same. It still felt new, despite the old memories.

It also doubled as a distraction from the now constant ache that came from her heart. Small jolts of pain as steady as a blacksmith’s blows or the drip of a leaky faucet.

Steady as a beating heart.

A quick turn pushed her into Mickey, who seemed to shrink away from her, scooting to the far side of his seat to avoid contact.

I probably stink. I haven’t taken a shower since… Sunday. Which was only two days ago, but a lot has happened since then. Somebody must have cleaned off mine and the goblin's blood…

That thought still made her cheeks feel hot. Nope. Not thinking about it!

Still, she tried to make herself smaller in her seat. One could never smell their own stench after all, and she felt terribly conscious of the fact that she could still smell like sweat, blood, and goblins.

The rest of the ride was very uncomfortable.

“Whoa! That’s a lot of people!” Mel said. Her face pressed up against the left window. She looked over at Sel her eyes wide. “Like a lot a lot!”

Sel leaned over Mel to get a look.

A horde of people greeted her. Packed in so tight it reminded her of a nest of baby birds, so little room it was a wonder none of them had fallen out yet.

Apparently, someone else thought so too, because at the border of the crowd police and Noble guards stood keeping the bystanders from getting into the road and impeding traffic. She saw them jostle a couple of people and winced in sympathy.

“There’s still a half-hour before the announcement! I thought for sure we would get here early enough to find a spot but this… Dear, I don’t think we’re going to be able to get in.” Mrs. Quinton said. Her silhouette was blocked by the passenger seat.

Sel eavesdropped on the conversation between the two front-seat occupants while her eyes darted across the crowd. Ears straining to hear the verdict.

I do not want to go into that crowd. At all.

She could already imagine the press of bodies, her stature ensuring that she could not see further than the four or five closest bodies boxing her in. A moment's hesitation enough to sweep her away from the Quinton’s and to be swallowed up by the monstrous press of living beings.

Crowds weren’t made for short people.

“Well, I kind of wanted it to be a surprise, but I guess I can tell you now. I was consulted when they were setting this announcement up. Children who had a break and their parents get priority. So, we should have no trouble getting in. And even if that wasn’t the case, you don’t need to worry about a thing. I’ve got connections.”

Mr. Quinton’s last words sounded boastful? Arrogant? Proud? Sel had trouble pinpointing the exact tone, but it drew up the image of a colorful bird, preening with its large chest thrust out.

“What did you do!?”

“Nothing! Well, almost nothing! I just wanted to surprise you—”

“You promised you would tell me when you made any deals with nobles. So, what did you do!?”

“Technically it was a deal with the city—”

Even she, a thirteen-year-old, knew that Mr. Quinton was just digging himself deeper.

“That just means you made a deal with all of the nobles! Everyone knows that the mayor and city council are entirely beholden to them! Dividing them is pedantic at best! I can’t believe you did all of this behind my back! Now. What. Did. You. Do?”

Sel noticed that Mickey was holding very still next to her. His eyes glued to the right window. Mel had stopped playing with her arm and was fiddling with her fingers now. Eyes occasionally darting to the front.

Seems she wasn’t the only one listening in.

“Please can we talk about this latter?”

“I—”

*rap, rap, rap*

The car had pulled to a stop and somebody was knocking on the window. Mr. Quinton rolled it down and Sel caught a small glimpse of a tall person standing outside. She strained in her seat to catch a glimpse.

“Ah, Mr. Quinton! It’s an honor! I have orders to escort you and your family to the front. We’ve saved you a parking spot, and if anything is not to your satisfaction just let me or anyone else at the event know and we will work to remedy it.”

“Thank you, officer.”

Even from the back, she could feel the anger rolling off of Ms. Quinton. Looking around at all the people and the guards, she was starting to realize that this might be a little bigger than a mere grade school announcement.

The officer guided the car to a small lot that was sectioned off from the crowd. Something she was very grateful for as she clambered out of the minivan. Just looking at the press of bodies and tried to eyeball the average height distribution of the crowd. It wasn’t looking good, and the mere thought of entering was enough to make her feel queasy. It could even get hard to breathe when you were submerged by that many bodies.

The main entrance to the high school was clogged with people, the crowd so thick it was hardly moving. Sel felt a palpable sense of relief when the officer started to lead them around to a back entrance, opening the door and hurrying all six of them along.

When they entered, they were met with an almost empty hall. Only a few guards and other important-looking people walking around. It was so different from outside. In fact, if it wasn’t for the guards, it might have just looked like a regular school between class periods. No sign of the hordes outside to be seen in the quiet hallway.

Sel tried to peek into the classrooms as they passed. Reminding herself that this would be the school she’d be going to if her plan to get into the Emporium didn’t work.

The rooms were a little bit better than the ones at the middle school. The desks in a bit better shape, the walls a bit whiter than the yellow and brown of her middle school. The graffiti a little less common.

It looked… like a school. She wasn’t sure what else she was expecting.

Seems kind of boring.

Certainly not fit for a Demon Lord. She’d just have to add that as another reason to try to get accepted into the Emporium.

Yes, the Emporium probably didn’t have cracked tiles and water-stained ceiling panels. The Emporium probably didn’t use scratched-up chalkboards and worn-out textbooks.

And the Emporium taught magic something she was sure wasn’t taught here.

Ahead, she heard a murmuring and clamor. It gradually got louder as they approached a pair of double doors. She looked at Mel and saw a wide-eyed look that matched her own.

The guard opened the door to the gymnasium, and the world drowned with the noise of thousands of people. She covered her ears and saw Mel and Mickey do the same. Tiffany looked at them and gave a sniff, before walking forward with the guard.

How can she not cover her ears!? It’s SO loud!

She noticed that Mr. and Mrs. Quinton also weren’t covering their ears. Maybe grownup ears were stronger? But then why were they always asking kids to quiet down?

Truly a mystery.

The guard beckoned and the stragglers in their group—her, Mel, and Mickey—scurried forward. They huddled together as if the mere look of their surroundings was enough to push them closer together.

People were packed into the stands, and behind them stood the people unlucky enough to have not found a seat, these people stood and shuffled back and forth in agitation. The aisles were also filled, and the body count was so high, she had trouble seeing floor or bench anywhere in the mass.

The throng seemed to pulse and shiver, all individuality lost in the mass of faces and bodies, crushed together in a room obviously way beyond capacity.

Sel had never seen so many people in one place. The people were so packed in, that it was difficult to tell where one person ended and the next began. From afar, it wasn’t hard to imagine that what she saw wasn’t thousands of people but was instead one giant being. Content to sit in the stands above as she and the Quinton’s scurried by beneath its notice.

She idly wondered what would happen if there was a fire. Trying to imagine all those faces turning away and rushing for the exit. What would happen if this discordant blob of individuals was given a singular purpose? Would it look like an ocean wave retreating? Or like a cauldron about to bubble over?

Would anyone even get out? Or would the giant creature not let them go, unwilling to be torn apart by the individual’s desire to scatter?

She moved a little closer to Mel.

The guard hurried them forward on the gymnasium floor, passing small groups of people either mingling or sitting on the metal folding chairs that had been set up. The difference between the floor and the stands was so distinct it hurt. The floor had a lot of people, but unlike with the stands they were still people. Their individuality far enough apart that their beings weren’t blurred together into becoming something else.

The guard led them to the front and showed them their seats. When she sat, she shivered. The metal reaching through her stupid skirt and seizing her living heat to drag it down into its dead self.

Mel sat beside her, no longer covering her ears. It seemed that the difficulty of plugging two ears with only one working hand had finally grown worse than the deafening noise.

Maybe I can get used to the noise?

She pried her hands away from her ears.

Ow. IT’S REALLY LOUD!

She had to think louder just to hear her own thoughts!

Mel tapped her side and said something.

“What? I can’t hear you!”

“I said! Isn’t that our school! Back there!”

Mel pointed towards the back of the gymnasium, and sure enough, there was a group of younger kids about her and Mel’s age. Many of them looked vaguely familiar. Since the only interaction she had with children her age was at school…

“Probably!?”

Mel tapped her again and pointed to the front.

“Look!”

This time Sel didn’t have to ask what Mel meant. Just a few seats in front of them a camera crew was setting up in front of a small stage where a bunch of important-looking nobles sat. Guards surrounded the platform weapons ready.

Some carried guns, but others carried more novel weapons. Spears, swords, an axe, and even one with a bow. Others didn’t carry a weapon at all, these stood tall and proud and radiated disdain for the mob in the stands and the people arrayed on the gymnasium floor.

“Do you think they’re going to broadcast it!?”

She gave Mel a look and raised one eyebrow. Something she knew annoyed Mel, because of her own inability to accomplish the same feat.

“Probably!?”

How am I supposed to know? Nobody tells me anything.

Mel didn’t seem to notice the eyebrow, much to her disappointment. Too busy staring over the guards, stands, and news crew.

Mr. Quinton seemed to be discussing something with Mrs. Quinton, but she couldn’t hear them even a few seats down. Mickey was still covering his ears, but his eyes were wide and darting around so quickly as if to make up for in seeing what he was covering up in hearing.

Tiffany was typing away at her phone. A bored expression on her face.

Why is she bored? Isn’t this exciting!?

Selina didn’t have time to wonder though, as a young man only a couple of years older than her stood up at the podium. He seemed to preen there like a peacock. Being so close to the front she could see his large grin.

“Silence!”

His voice seemed to speak directly into her ear, grabbing her attention and forcing her to drop her other thoughts. As if they had all grown unbearably hot and scorched her hands. Her chest seemed to throb at the noise, her origin shivering. That one word had felt like a kick to the shin under the dining table.

No matter how loud everyone was talking, it got your attention. Fast.

It seemed she wasn’t the only one he had ‘kicked’. A wave of quiet seemed to pass over the crowd. Its immediacy made her ears buzz in the ensuing silence. The only sounds a few coughs and the sounds of a thousand people breathing.

That… was terrifying.

And so cool!

That was definitely magic! Definitely! Some kind of vocal matrix? A mind one? Or maybe a lung? It would be funny if it was actually a tibia one, heh. Ah, I really want to know!

A quick glance to the side revealed that Mel beside her also had sparkles in her eyes. She turned and they shared a small grin. Each knowing what the other was thinking. Magic! That was Magic!

Mickey had a startled look in his eyes and seemed to be rubbing his ears. Not quite getting what was going on. Tiffany beside him had put down her phone. A small grimace of pain on her face as she rubbed her hand.

The boy in front of them returned to his seat and an older gentleman took his place at the podium.

“Thank you, Derrick. Today, we have assembled here to reassure the people of the Free Lands that the recent mana outbreak is completely under control. We have taken steps to mitigate the anomaly, and we assure you that your safety is our highest priority.”

The man paused here as if waiting for something. Whatever it was, he seemed to be disappointed as he looked over the silent crowd.

“However, the real reason for today’s meeting is to congratulate all the young people who were fortunate enough to break. Never in the Empire’s history has there ever been so many breaks at once, and we are overjoyed that such a momentous occasion could occur in our very own backyard! Let’s all give a round of applause to the children who took this unique opportunity to bring about a brighter tomorrow!”

Sel blinked. As unsteady applause started to build up in the crowd, slowly building up to a sound that rivaled thunder.

I… didn’t understand any of that. Why does breaking make tomorrow brighter? And I don’t think you can choose to break. It just happens, so why would we be taking an “opportunity”? And do they really—

“Silence!”

Ow! You Jerk—!

Once again, the boy Derrick had metaphorically kicked her in the shin! Wasn’t there a better way to get their attention?

The person upfront must have thought it a little extreme too since he was frowning and looking back at Derrick with mild reproach.

The idiot didn’t seem to notice and gave the man a confident nod. Looking as pleased as a cat who’d brought home a mouse. Not realizing that nobody wanted the dead, filthy, disease-ridden thing.

“Ehem, we the nobility of the Free Lands realize that many of the families gathered here won’t have the foundation and knowledge to handle a break. Indeed, such handling is vital at the beginning stages. A mishandling could cause fracturing, improper healing, cancerous origins, or even death. Realizing that many of you have never had reason to consider these things, and the difficulty that can come from trying to discern truth from falsehood, we have invited an expert in the field here to talk about what you can do to make your child’s break more successful. And so, it is my great honor to invite Jonathan Quinton up to the pulpit.”

Sel turned to see Mr. Quinton standing and giving a small bow before he approached the stand.

“Mr. Quinton graduated from the Emporium with a focus in the medical field, he then went back to finish a four-year course on magical maladies. He has written more than a hundred papers in his field and is among the first contacted by noble families when their own children encounter complications with their origins. Even in the Empire, you’d have trouble finding anyone more qualified. We are so lucky to have him with us. Please provide him your undivided attention. Mr. Quinton, if you’re ready?”

The older noble stepped away from the stand, making room for Mr. Quinton who took his place at the podium.

“It’s an honor to be here with you all. Before we begin, it’s important that we lay some groundwork…”

Sel’s heart sank. As Mr. Quinton continued, she felt a very real sense of déjà vu. His speech was almost word for word what he had told her and Mel! That jerk had used them as guinea pigs to practice his speech!

She shared a glance with Mel. A stare that spoke volumes about shared suffering and hours of boring rhetoric. It was the kind of stare two convicted might share at the chopping block. Right before the axe fell and their bodies become bereft of their heads.

For only those who sat condemned, sharing the same fate could feel as—

That was when they both felt a jolt. Their gaze drawn back to Mr. Quinton. Their ‘eyeball conversation’ interrupted by a very familiar feeling.

“—depending on what organ system the break has occurred in—"

What the—!

Sitting on the stand glowering down at the crowd was the boy who had grabbed their attention before. Even as she began to wonder why he had chosen to—

Ow!

“—If you have any questions about your child’s origin, please feel free to contact—"

Once again, her gaze and focus were forced back to Mr. Quinton. Any attempt to zone out or think about something else produced the same reaction.

With a heart that continued to sink, Sel realized that this was going to be a very, very long speech.