“Sybil?” Veximarl tilted his head in confusion as she made her way past him. There was probably something important that she was on her way to. It was difficult for him to understand the work she had been doing as of late, so he not to follow and risk bothering her.

He turned towards Gwyn, who was also spacing out. She had her eyes on the dancers that were moving about. Veximarl’s eyes went wide for a moment and his fingers fidgeted in front of him. There wasn’t a thought in his head on what he should do at this moment. Eventually, he settled on crossing his arms behind his back and trying not to worry about it.

Confidence. He needed to be confident about his movements. Gwyn was obviously not having a good time. The reason why he was here was because she didn’t want to run into that man again. Was the temptation to go speak to him that severe? The look on her face was vacant, but her eyes appeared locked on a particular spot of the room.

Following her stare, he found himself looking at Sir Moss. He had left them early on so he could run about mingling with the nobles. To the knight, dancing was merely a social obligation. His motions were smooth as he moved with an older woman, happy to have a moment of pleasant company.

Veximarl’s eyes darted between Gwyn and Sir Moss. A moment of realization clicked in his head. When she had returned from Carapace the first time, she had started to call Moss by his first name and he didn’t seem to mind. They had spent a considerable amount of time together and even had rooms adjacent to each other at the hotel that had hosted them.

“Would you care to dance?” He blurted out, taking Gwyn’s hand in the process. Though he felt like he was distracting himself from vile thoughts more than doing his job of keeping her attention.

Gwyn shook her head and sighed softly to herself. “I’d rather not. In an hour, there should be an announcement for when I’m supposed to make the flowers bloom. We can leave after that.” Her eyes lingered a moment longer and then fell towards the floor. “I thought you didn’t know how to dance.”

“Tish had been tutoring me. I am certainly not skilled, but I am capable of the basics.” He gave a smile that immediately dropped when Gwyn glanced up at him.

“Tish tutored you in a lot of ways,” she muttered. Her fingers tightened about his and then pulled themselves away.

That stung... Why was she lashing out at him? He was only here for her sake... Veximarl looked up and examined the crowd. Sybil had vanished, but he spotted Alton talking to two girls near the edge of the dance floor. Alton laughed loudly at something one of them said, rubbing the back of his head and saying something in return that made the girls giggle.

That was the sort of confidence that Veximarl needed. He looked over to Gwyn, who was staring at the dance floor again. Her expression was a sad one. It was sad enough that it made his heart pang. His hands grasped at her shoulders, forcing her to turn towards him so he could look at her face to face.

“When I am with you, I am the only man you should be looking at.”

Gwyn’s mouth opened and closed a few times, to confused to come up with a response. After what seemed like an eternity, she had settled on her answer. “Come with me.” She took him by the hand and pulled him towards a space where there was little chance of them being overheard. Gwyn’s face then shifted through an array of emotions. There was a lot she had to consider.

“Are you alright?” Veximarl reached out to touch her face but she swatted his hand away. Her other hand continued to hold onto his, leaving him confused about her intentions.

“What is wrong with you?” Gwyn whispered. “I don’t want to look at you. You’re only here because I’d die of boredom if I was by myself. You saw how fast Remi runs off.”

Veximarl shook his head. “I thought you stated that you needed me to keep you away from a certain man.” He stuttered over his own words for a moment, thinking of the best way to phrase it. “It’s Sir Moss, isn’t it? The one you spent that night with? That is the gentleman that you are afraid of returning to?””

Gwyn finally withdrew her hand from his and looked away from him in a huff. “Would that be so bad? Remi has a good job waiting for him with Baron Marjoram when he’s done teaching in two years. He’s only filling in as an emergency replacement until we graduate. He is also a young man as well. It isn’t weird when you look at it like that. And I told you before, the only reason I entered Braytons was to find a husband. What do you care?”

“I care because I consider you to be an important friend,” replied Veximarl in his most stern voice. “And what Sir Moss has done to you is a complete violation of the code of ethics they teach at Braytons. When we return to the barracks, we will have to tell Lady Till about all of this.”

Her expression relaxed for a moment. “Apologies. You have something on your face and I cannot take you seriously with it there.” Veximarl quickly wiped at his mouth and rubbed his cheeks. “I’ll get it for you.”

Holding still, he furrowed his brows as Gwyn reached up and removed his smoked glasses. “What are you doing?” He tried to snatch them back, but Gwyn passed them off to the vines that were growing on the wall. They drew them up into the air and far beyond his reach. “... I need those.”

“They make you blind.”

“... But I need them,” he repeated with a whine.

“Paladin Shaw Arbutus.” Gwyn quickly blurted out before he could complain again. “Since Remi was busy doing whatever he does, Paladin Arbutus volunteered to act as my main escort. I then coerced him to spend the night with me and then I was informed that my performance was similar to a corpse and that we shan’t be doing that again.” Her features were strained as she looked away from him.

“Corpses aren’t always bad things,” replied Veximarl the Always Helpful.

She shut her eyes and lowered her head. “If you tell me that you’ve slept with a corpse in the past, I don’t think we can be seen together ever again.”

“Not at all!” Veximarl exclaimed nervously. “I…I have hardly even b-been near a corpse!” He did a high pitched laugh before clearing his throat out with a quick cough. “I assure you that the second years pretend to be nice but relish in giving others pain. If he hurt you, that was his choice. You shouldn’t remain hung up on an ignorant man who can’t see how wonderful you truly are.”

“That ignorant man is going to end up being the king’s right hand in the future and any wife of his will be set for life,” muttered Gwyn. “That is how the universe is going to avenge me for his wrongdoing.”

“My point is that you shouldn’t need me to keep you from throwing yourself at him. You are capable of standing up for yourself and doing what is right for you. Women should have equal roles in society, and you shouldn’t be caught up on finding a man that will give you worth. You, Gwyn, will always be your own greatest ally, and you should respect yourself.”

Gwyn looked as though she was tearing up. There was a faint sparkle in the corner of her eyes that made Veximarl grimace. He put his arms around her and gave her a quick hug. She leaned her head against his chest and her features relaxed. As relieved as Veximarl was, this also felt incredibly awkward.

She didn’t give anything back, just a simple press of her head. It was more comfortable to hug those in his own squad, but it could also be that his suit was restricting his movements. His work at the hospital was as a volunteer, but he should have at least bothered to ask for some payment... If only to cover unforeseen costs such as this.

“Hey.” Alton ignored how embarrassed both of them suddenly became. “Either of you seen Sybil? She said she was going to talk to you.” He glanced between the two of them and then around where they were standing.

“Ah...” Veximarl lifted his arms off of Gwyn and put them behind his back. “I saw her heading off towards… I’m not certain where. Is something wrong?”

Alton nodded. “Chi sent a wingmail. Zan and Highland have both vanished and neither of them are appearing in our letters anymore.”

Veximarl pulled out his own letter from his inner pocket. “... You’re right. Sybil told me that the range of these can be iffy in the outerland. I don’t believe they would have left the city so late in the day. It’s possible that they are hiding out in one of the inns near the outskirts of the city, where there is little chance of their letters getting a signal.”

“Sybil has me carrying her letter around.” She didn’t have any pockets and Alton had offered. Now it just seemed like a pain since he couldn’t get a hold of her. “I don’t think I can pull her out of here yet, but I wanted to find out where the idiots are before Moss figures out they’re missing.” There was a vast difference between the wrongdoings they had done at the barracks versus vanishing on an away mission. This wasn’t going to be a simple punishment.

“I want to help, but I can’t leave until it’s time for me to make the flowers bloom,” replied Gwyn. She made a strained face. This wasn’t like Vincent. She wondered if Zaniyah must have encouraged him to run away.

Veximarl offered a plan. “We’ll stay here and take Sybil with us when it’s time for us to go. I’ll message Anais and Ivy so they can help search the inns. It’s also possible that they headed to Outcore or to the monastery belonging to Vincent’s grandfather. We can check those tomorrow. It’s far to dangerous for us to head out to either of those areas now.”

“Agreed,” said Alton with a nod. “I’ll send a wingmail if anything changes. We’re not going to tell Moss. If he figures out something is wrong, we’ll lie through our teeth. Agreed?” The other two nodded. “Good. See you two around.”

Veximarl turned to Gwyn as Alton walked away. “Let’s see if we can find Sybil, shall we?” The two nodded at each other and started to wander about, looking for any signs for where she could have gone.

---

Sybil had left the party entirely, taking in a long breath as she walked out onto a balcony. She then had a minor coughing fit from inhaling the cold air to fast. There was snow out here, and she had to be careful to move slowly, otherwise risk slipping and getting her dress wet. Carefully taking steps forward, she reached the railing and rested her gloved hands on it.

Everything was the worst... No, not everything. She still had her ever-decreasing group of friends.

Sybil didn’t know what to do anymore. Being told that she would one day be in a position to help people didn’t make her feel like she was doing anything useful now. This was just… Pointless. All of it was pointless.

The sound of snow crunching behind her made her turn around. “Ah, sorry… I’m fine. I’ll go back inside after I’ve…” She blinked at the sight before her.

A man was approaching her. He had on fancy clothes, but a heavy cloak was draped over his left side, hiding the absence of his arm. His face had a deep scar along his left cheek, as though something had gashed through it and had torn out the flesh.

“... Barcus?” Sybil stepped back and braced herself against the railing.

He gave a shrug. “It’s cold out. Not that many people would think to come out here.”

She didn’t have a courteous reply for him. The only times she had interacted with Barcus was when he had tried to kill her and when he almost got himself killed. They weren’t exactly on the best of terms, but she would argue that that was mostly his fault.

“... I’m not exactly used to crowds.” Her eyes darted around as she looked for a point of escape. He was blocking her path to the door. “... I thought some fresh air would do me good.”

“A bit ironic to hear core trash ask for fresh air. You’ve certainly changed in the short time you’ve been out of your hole.” His voice was as cold as the ice around them. He continued to walk closer until he was just about in arms reach. “Seems like Braytons works quickly to polish up the shit that’s flung at them.”

Again, Sybil didn’t have much to contribute. “The training they put us through at the barracks is rigorous. It shouldn’t be surprising to see quick progress.” She stepped off to the side. “If you excuse me, I shouldn’t keep my friends waiting for me.”

As Barcus flexed his remaining hand, the snow in front of Sybil shot up and formed into tall icicles. She took a step back as the mage slowly turned his head towards her. “I heard you failed the exam. At least, Mila overheard Lady Till tell you that you would be denied entrance.” They were cousins. Mila may have said something to him over the summer, when Sybil was traveling to see Lady Grulick.

“I drew a sword from the Volo Refuge. They allow entrance to those who pull weapons from the temple as long as they are the proper age.” Sybil was trying to remain calm, but she desperately wanted to have one of her daggers on her right now.

“The sword you drew when I attacked you?” She nodded at his question. “Then you had nothing to worry about... No matter what the results were for the test, you had a way to force yourself in.”

“It was luck and nothing more.”

Barcus narrowed his eyes. “And I was unlucky to have come across you… All you had to do was not rat me out. Did you know that? I could have finished off your entire squad and they would’ve seen my worth. After all, I was always stronger than Naiov, and they let him in. It should’ve been easy… Easy for all of us. Silas, Oscar, Luca… You were the one who had to ruin it.”

His words made her chest tighten up. How was she at fault? Terrible things had happened to her, and she never sought to blame anyone but herself and her own failures. Just as Barcus’ face was marred, she had deep scars on her chest from her own tainted beast attack. That was the fault of her own weaknesses. Not for Moontear for taking her there, or anyone else’s fault. Barcus had to right to blame her.

“... You could have died.”

“And they would have recognized my willingness to put myself in danger as worthiness to be a knight!” He exclaimed.

“You’re a fool to believe that.”

Sybil stood firm. Ever since she returned to Carapace, she had been bullied, beaten, and had no control over any part of her life. People didn’t recognize her hardships. No one said it made her worth anything. The amount that she suffered wasn’t considered an effort to be proud of.

She had had enough. “You failed because you cheated on the written exam. You alone, because of your foolishness and greediness, stand as the reason why your squad failed as well! There is no one to blame but yourself!”

Barcus shook his head. “You can’t always see into the ‘what-ifs’ of life... Though you seem to have that special power. How else did you end up where you are now? It’s been bothering me ever since I heard about it. Sneaking past a failed exam? Engaged to the most popular man at Starsons? Best buddies with the prince?

A few more choice moves, and you could end up overthrowing Duke Rubire. Suddenly, you’re the Crimson Queen! And I doubt Alton has the sort of power to make that happen... Who else did you spread your legs for in order to get into that position?”

“I don’t have to answer to you or anyone. Let me pass.” Once again did she stand her ground. There was a group of people past the balcony door. If she screamed, someone would be out here in a matter of seconds.

“You’ve certainly gotten high and mighty.” He laughed to himself. “Maybe you were always like that... I do believe this is the only chance we’ve had to talk.” Barcus flicked his fingers and part of an icicle broke off. It snapped around the lower half of her face, sealing off her mouth. “I don’t like that attitude, and you deserve to have someone make you feel more grounded.” He smiled. “I am a knight of this city, and what I do is for the good of all of Carapace.”

More icicles broke off, this time forming into blades. They cut through the railing behind Sybil, which then fell away from the balcony. Her feet gave out from under her as the snow dragged her back. She let out a muffled scream as she was forced over the edge.

Her body let out a sickening crack as it hit the ground. The ice around her face broke, leaving her gasping for air... It was difficult to breathe, as though her lungs were locking up and stiffening. Everything hurt. It was difficult to tell if that was melting snow making her clothes wet or if it was blood.

Either way, the cold wasn’t bothering her as much as it had before.

Sybil stopped struggling in an attempt to calm down and find a way to help herself. She couldn’t breathe, her body was growing number by the second, and even her vision was fading. Her eyes shut and she found she didn’t have the strength to open them anymore. The last thing that went was her hearing… In the end, all she thought she heard was the silence of winter, followed by a strange sense of release as a part of herself broke away.