“There are multiple groups of commoners,” Jasmine said. “Some of them we know the origin of.”

“Sorry,” Orchid said. “They are likely still under the control of House Alzaq in some fashion.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that one,” I said. “The one that I bumped into didn’t seem to give two shits about House Alzaq yesterday night.”

“My siblings are somewhat more heavy-handed than I am,” Orchid replied, heaving out a sigh. “They’ll have recouped whatever manpower they could, regardless of whether or not they wanted to respond to an Alzaq.”

“Okay, sure,” I allowed. “That sounds reasonable for a noble family. So one group loyal to the Alzaqs.”

“Another group has become independent,” Jasmine said. “I believe this may have been the group you encountered. It is closely tied to the first group, as the leader claims to be a former noble who was cast out both from his House and from the main rebellion movement.”

“Is his name Seb?” I asked. “I could see that being him.”

“I am not sure,” Jasmine replied. “Could be.”

I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but I was pretty damn sure it was Seb’s group—maybe with the additions of a few others he’d manage to convince away from their respective movements—that was being referred to here. Seb had seemed intelligent—no, he’d seemed educated, there was a difference—in a way that no normal commoner should’ve been able to manage. It had either been this or a particularly precocious childhood, which had decent odds of creating nobles anyway given how much those wonder children were purchased by Houses. In my time, at least.

“Sure, who else?” I asked.

“Unaffiliated groups,” Jasmine grimaced. “These are the hardest to identify. Lily, you and I fought one such group on our way here. No identifying military insignia, no stated allegiance, and no documents that would indicate any superiors.”

“They could just be commoners,” Lukas said. “Gods know how tenacious they can be when they get a community behind something.”

“It very well could be,” Alex replied, his arm over Lukas’ shoulders, “But I’m inclined to say a noble has a finger in that pie. A well-hidden one, perhaps, but there is no way that there is no noble involvement.”

“Perhaps,” Jasmine said. “Perhaps not. That is what you are to be investigating. Find one of the unaffiliated groups—“

“How can we tell the difference?” I asked. “They’ve all appeared the same to me.”

“You can’t,” Jasmine said. “Not at first glance. However, the House Alzaq controlled ones are less organized than some of the unaffiliated, and they tend to break easier. The independent, former Alzaq group should have people you recognize, right?”

“So fighting style and people I recognize,” I said. “Okay. Make sense. Yes, I can track who I see while we’re there.”

“Fantastic,” Jasmine said. “Use whatever means necessary to advance. I would strongly recommend agains tmaking liberal usage of killing, but it is ultimately up to you to make the choice. I believe that you will make the right decicsions, Lily.”

“And what about me?” Kyle asked, mock-offended. “What choices do I get to make?”

“You can keep her in check,” Jasmine deadpanned. She wasn’t able to keep her stony face up for long, breaking character with a laugh before a full second had even passed by. “Anyway, your incidents mean your decisions. Your moral decisions are up to you.”

“Got it, my lady,” Kyle said, emphasizing the “my lady” way too much. He gave her an exaggerated bow. “My pleasure doing service for you.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Jasmine said. From the tone of her voice, it sounded like this came up a lot.

“Nah,” Kyle said. “This is charity work. I made a fair bit of cash from the Alzaq mission—thanks for that, Orchid, if nothing else—so I’ve got my expenses covered for a while. This is an important mission to be running.”

“If it works for you,” Jasmine said. “I do not wish for people to join us in this endeavor if not by their own will.”

“‘Course,” Kyle said. “What kind of travelling clown can I be, if I don’t stop to watch out for my fellow commoners?”

“So is our plan really just to fuck around the city until we find a commoner group that can attack us and then fight and question them?” I asked. “Not that it sounds bad or anything, it’s just… a little direct, especially for you guys.

“And that’s why we send the two most brute-force oathholders,” Jasmine said, giving me a slight nod. “No offense to you, of course, but this is what you are best suited to doing.”

“I want to get offended,” I muttered. “I really want to.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Kyle said. “I doubt I can get much politics done dressed like this.”

“Also, my arm is still new,” Lukas offered. “I think I would be with you guys, but I am physically incapable of doing so at the moment. Need more time to integrate with the mechanical arm.

“How long till we depart?” I asked.

“Not too long,” Alex said, speaking up for the first time in a while. “I assume you don’t want to listen to boring political garbage, so the gist of it is that we sorted out our plays already and were just waiting on you.”

“Yeah, and now there’s the added question of interrogating Orchid,” I said.

“You need not interrogate me,” Orchid protested. “I will give any information you need from me of my own free will.”

“For safety’s sake,” Jasmine said, the edge of steel still not wholly gone from her voice. “You may not have wished for a part to play in your family’s plot, but your folly is only temporarily forgiven, not totally forgotten.”

“Got it,” Orchid said. “Sure.”

“Where do you want to hit first?” Kyle asked. “I assume our tactic is just to find revolutionary bands and assail them? Crude, but it should be effective.”

“There’s a bunch of them running around,” I said. “Do we need this safehouse again?”

“Perhaps,” Lukas said. “Decent odds we end up returning here, especially since that’s going to be our default plan for the end of the day.”

“I’ll take a note of that,” I said. “I’ll—we’ll get a little further away from the server before wreaking havoc, then.

“We can depart in half an hour,” Alex said. “I should have everything in order by then.”

Works for me.

“That is workable,” Jasmine said. “And we meet back here in, what, eight hours?”

“Eight hours is fine,” Alex said. “Any longer and we may need to assume you’re in trouble. I think sending out search parties by the ninth hour makes sesnse?”

“Eight and a half,” Lukas said. “Anything important enough to delay that probably is going to be noticeable from where the others are acting. Big fights, important political discussions that ripple out through the grapevine in moments, that kind of stuff. And an event large enough for the rest of us to notice probably warrants a rescue party anyway.”

“Works for me,” I said. “Eight and a half hours, that’s… seven? Around nightfall?”

“Yep,” Lukas said. “Nightfall is a good time to judge by.”

“Any further questions, information to share?” Jasmine asked.

“I have a story to tell, but I feel that it is best saved for a less urgent time,” Orchid said.

“It is,” I replied tersely. I was on edge right now. Not enough to want to kill something or someone, but enough that I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to bother listening to a long-winded tale of woe. Not now.

“I shall extract the story from you in due time,” Jasmine said. “Make yourself comfortable for now.”

“If that’s all, I think we can take a break for a while,” Alex said. “Get rested up before we go.”

Nobody disagreed with that.

We split off into pairs, less by prearranged group and more by unspoken agreement. Alex and Lukas left the meeting room, presumably to go make out somewhere that would be a little less disruptive to the rest of us; Jasmine took my hand and led me to a corner, silently guiding me to sit with her in a seat that really wasn’t designed for two people; and oddly enough, Kyle sat with Orchid, animatedly conversing with him even when he’d been so cold earlier. Jesters had a wide variety of emotion they could express, I supposed. They seemed to be finding that they had something in common, which was promising for our ability to get actual information out of Orchid.

“How are you?” Jasmine asked, brushing a lock of hair out of my face.

Because of the size of the couch we were on, my legs were crossed over hers, and I was barely hanging onto the seat proper, aided mostly by Jasmine’s hands and body. I was practically sitting in her lap, and I couldn’t say I didn’t like it.

“Alright,” I said. “Could be better.”

“I’d imagine,” Jasmine said. “You came out of it okay, though.”

“Pulled a fast one on them,” I said with a little chuckle. “Led them down a narrow alleyway and used a big shield spell to block ‘em off. None of them had oaths, or if they did they weren’t oaths powerful enough to break through it.”

“It’s a bit of a shame,” Jasmine murmured. “That most commoners are restricted from this knowledge so much. Granted, it works in our favor just this once, but I dislike the practice.”

I opened my mouth to retort, then thought on it. A lot of oathholders I knew were dicks. Most of us were noble or noble-adjacent, with a rare few edge cases making it in from reading stolen books or through their own god’s selection process. If everyone was granted the same level of education, it would open the field up to more people, make those like me less unique… but was that really a bad idea?

“I want to disagree, but I think you’re right,” I said. “It’s a huge power disparity.”

“It is,” Jasmine agreed. Her hand was idly brushing at my hair now, and she kept on accidentally grazing the back of my neck. Each time she did it, it sent little tingles down my spine, but I tried to not let it show.

“I might need to learn more spells,” I said. “I realized that much.”

“Yeah?” Jasmine asked. “Why so?”

“I’ve learned magic missile, shield, and have a vague understanding of the classical fireball,” I said. “Everything else might be charitably classed as a spell under the Naan’ti system, but I really don’t have much to my name at the moment. I’ve been coasting off unstructured magic, and not having spells is going to make cencounters get harder and harder as we go on.”

“Mmm, understandable,” Jasmine said. She stopped brushing my hair, instead bringing one arm over my shoulder and chest. “You thought of any that you want to learn?”

“Knowing a basic Oath Storm or even just a classical Blind or Deafen could do wonders,” I admitted. “I need structured magic that can enhance my combat capabilities past the hard limits I have, and I need spells that don’t just kill things, especially since you keep telling me to go non-lethal.”

“Well, you do keep listening to me,” Jasmine said. “I appreciate that, by the way.”

“It’s, uh, not that big of a deal or anything,” I said, finding my words suddenly stuck in my throat. Gods damn it, was I blushing again? “You make good points on practicality.”

“We can accept that explanation,” Jasmine replied with a smile, her eyes twinkling. “Anyway. There’s not much that I know that I can teach you in the short timespan that we have, but I could do Blind. That’s a decent utility spell.”

“Worse than the Ceretian versions of it,” I said. “Less versatile, weaker.”

“Less complicated as well,” Jasmine said. “It may also prove useful in your assignment, as the majority of the commoners are not oathholders and thus cannot counter it.”

“I guess so,” I said. “Can’t hurt to have more spells in my repertoire.”

“It won’t take too long,” Jasmine said. “Could I be selfish for a moment?”

“Go ahead.” It was a bit of a non sequitur, but Jasmine had done more than enough for me to warrant that.

“Just let us stay like this for a few more minutes?” Jasmine said. “It’s been a chaotic morning.”

I blinked. Could that really be called selfish if I wanted the same thing? “I have no qualms with that.”

It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions, but I was pressed up against the only other person I truly cared about right now, and that was all that mattered.

Jasmine put her head on my shoulder, resting her weight on mine.

I could get used to this.

“The frame of this one is a classical one,” Jasmine said. “In order to accomplish it, you must first cast away the idea that you will be casting one of your normal spells.”

“I’m aware,” I replied, placing my hands in front of me. “Classical spells always have the same effect, no matter the oath.”

We’d chosen to slip out a side door, entering a secluded alleyway behind the warehouse. Nobody would bother us here. At least, not until our time was up and we had to part ways.

“Right, you were well-educated as a child,” Jasmine said. “I should not condescend.”

“It’s not condescending,” I reassured her. “It’s nice to have a refresher sometimes, y’know?”

Especially if it’s coming from you. I left that part unsaid, but by the knowing smile she gave me, she could hear me clear as day.

“Thus, this frame is a far stricter one than a Ceretian or Naan’ti spell would be,” Jasmine said. “Generally less versatile as a result, but with a more strictly defined end product. Occasionally, some of them are stronger than Ceretian spells.”

Lessons flooded back into my head, and though I could still feel the bitter edge of Lord Byron tainting all those memories, it was… softened, now, something I could push aside without much effort.

The classical school of magic was also sometimes referred to as the “proto-Ceretian” school. Modern Ceretian magic had only really split off from it sometime in the last two centuries or so, just a few decades before the beginning of the continental war. A long time ago, this had been the only school of magic known to man, with everyone only able to cast the same types of spells along with a few oath-specific tricks. Those oath-specific spells had ultimately evolved into the Naan’ti school of magic, while the classical school fractured as scholars discovered how to create a standardized system of spells that also involved the oaths themselves.

“Remembering your lessons?” Jasmine asked, her voice playful but soft.

“Yeah, I am,” I said, turning my head up to look to the sky. Cloudy today. “Sorry. Continue.”

“Let me demonstrate for you.” Jasmine turned to face me, casting her arms out.

The frame for this spell was a lot more precise than the one for any of the Ceretian spells I had learned. I didn’t need the lessons to know that, given the micromovements and adjustments that I could see Jasmine making. Jasmine drew what look like a hieroglyphic of an eye in the air, her hands leaving behind a shimmering trail of red and gold.

It was a rather complex image, and she took her time as such. I was fairly sure she would’ve been able to cast this far faster than she was, given that she was familiar with the classical fireball, which if I remembered correctly was a somewhat more complex pattern, which meant she was slowing down for me. Sweet of her.

With one final motion, she drew two slashes through the eye, and the pattern flared bright white.

“I’m not going to cast the spark,” she said. “For obvious reasons.”

“I think I can shield myself now. Kind of figured out how to do it.”

“You do not have to, and you should not. I should hope you never need to shield yourself from me.”

I blinked slowly, my lips quirking upwards involuntarily. “Thanks. I think.”

“Anyway,” Jasmine said, dismissing the spell into sparks of expended magic, “That’s the spell. Did you notice anything different about the fuel?”

I hadn’t, but I already knew what it was. “It was poured so that it matched the frame exactly. No more, no less.”

“You did not notice that,” Jasmine laughed. “I know for a fact. I hid it.”

“Oops?”

“Just testing your education. Unless you would prefer I did not?”

“It’s not a problem.” It wasn’t like she was referring to the Byrons directly, at least.

“Well, you got the fuel right, at least. It’s the same for all classical spells.”

“Right. Which is why so few people use them these days.”

“Debatable, but close enough to the truth. As for the spark…”

Jasmine spoke a word in the oathtongue, its pronunciation harsher and more grating than most of the spells I was used to were.

“The metaphysical part is much the same,” Jasmine said. “Same casting as per usual. It shared that much with the modern system, at the very least.”

“Alright,” I said. “I’ll try it, then?”

“Go ahead,” Jasmine said. “I am largely immune to the effects of the spell.”

“Training?”

“Modification.”

Ah, right. Having been a Nacea oath capable of self-modification must have been nice. I had never been exposed to the Blind spell as a child, but I could imagine Lord Byron doing it. It wasn’t far from the realm of possibility, and I had a sneaking suspicion that the only reason that kind of training hadn’t happened was because low-power classical spells like Blind and Deafen were rarely used in oathholder fights.

“Draw the frame,” Jasmine said, stepping around me to take a position right behind my shoulders. She sounded like she was trying—and not completely succeeding—at replicating Professor Lasi’s overly serious tone, which I had to chuckle at.

I did, trying to follow the same movements that Jasmine had. It was as unnatural as always, visualizing a box for my magic to flow into, but I tried anyway.

Jasmine took hold of my hands, lacing her fingers through mine.

“Not quite,” she breathed. “Just follow with me…”

She moved her hands, and I moved with her, letting her guide me. It was nice, having someone be a guide like this. It had been… actually, had I ever had someone like this? Someone who was willing to be kind to me and patient with me. Someone who used their hands to caress rather than crush.

Jasmine was the first person to truly care for me, and I couldn’t deny that my heart was in a flurry right now, my head light and airy as she helped me frame the spell with our makeshift dance.

All too soon, it was over. Jasmine released me, the frame almost completely done.

I finished it off, carefully adding the last two slashes through the center of the hieroglyphic that Jasmine had literally been holding my hands to create.

Now for the fuel. This had been the most unnatural part when I’d been practicing in class, and it was no less unnatural now, taking uncontrolled wild magic and forcing it into the shape of the spell. Still, I made myself go through with it, ignoring the intense discomfort some part of my soul—maybe not even my soul, come to think of it, now that I knew oaths could be used to carry sentiments from god to oathholder and vice versa—and manipulated it to match the frame perfectly.

As much as it felt unnatural penning it up, my magic was responsive to my command as always, and the fuel filled up the frame. No overflow, no underfill.

“Last step,” Jasmine encouraged. “You got this.”

I nodded, focusing on the construct. It was stable, though that might’ve been more because of Jasmine’s help in forming the frame than anything else.

I spoke the command phrase, igniting the construct, and I pulled on my oath, calling for the fuel to ignite.

Light greeted me, a burst of it that briefly outshone the midday sun, washing the alley in its rays. It didn’t blind me, my own magic refusing to work against me, but it would’ve absolutely done the job against any enemy.

“Well done,” Jasmine said.

“Thank you,” I replied, turning towards her.

Without thinking, I embraced her, pulling her in close. She seemed surprised at first, but after a second she leaned into it, squeezing me back.

“Stay safe out there,” Jasmine said.

“You too,” I said. “Noble intrigue is a thousand times worse than dealing with a bunch of armed commoners.”

As with all good things, the hug had to come to an end, and we readied ourselves.

It was time to investigate with a clown.