“Name three predatory species that are illegal to hunt for sport.” Rebecca looked up from the journal she was reading.

She had received a letter from Duxton shortly after Sybil’s first incident with the slavers. Rebecca had gone south to assist, only to receive another letter on route, which redirected her to the barracks, where a third letter was waiting for her. Duxton had instructed her to take over tutoring Sybil until he returned from Baron Rockender’s former estate.

Rebecca saw no issue with this, as she had nowhere else more important to go. She had traveled with one member of her squad, which would go ahead to the estate with Flaytongue Squad. Vincent would be taking news back to Duke Sickleson, which meant that Rebecca’s mission in the north was officially over. Tutoring Sybil wasn’t a welcome change of pace, but it was better than assisting a dreary Lady Till.

Not that her pupil was any less dreary than the headmistress, but she was depressing in a completely different manner. Sybil stared at Rebecca blankly for a moment. The gears were madly twisting in her head as she struggled to come up with a solution.

“Mist cats, curved ear swallows, and the ridgeback weasel.”

The church had officially labeled mist cats a sacred, and they historically recorded as always having a low population. Having one settle near the lesser used tunnels of the core was considered to be good luck. It kept out more hazardous creatures, such as tusked snakes.

“Correct,” replied Rebecca. “What characteristic feature of the ridgeback weasel differentiates it from other small mammals?”

“... It’s back.” Sybil made a triangle symbol with her hands. “... It has a ridge on its back. Also, it’s a weasel.”

Alton leaned over to whisper in Sybil’s ear, but he was rewarded with an eraser smacking him squarely in his temple. He let out a hiss, then reached down to the floor, where the object had landed.

“Assistance is not to be allowed.” Rebecca pointed her pencil at him. She let Alton come to Sybil’s lessons because it somehow helped her pay attention, but blatant cheating wasn’t something that would be permitted. “Miss Twist, what is a weasel?”

If it had a ridge, that meant that its back had a mountainous sort of nature to it. So an animal that had something hard or stonelike on it… Like a reptile? Both reptiles and fish could be like that, but a fish wouldn’t be protected by the law...

“It’s a type of tortoise that has spikes along the center of its shell.” Sybil raised her nose proudly. “I am trying to take this seriously, Miss Ackeret. Please try to refrain from asking questions that even a child would know the answer to.”

Rebecca didn’t have a response for that. She stared at Alton... All she could do to keep herself sane was to stare at Alton as he smiled nervously back. It was not his fault that Sybil only acknowledged animals that had interesting biological mechanics that could be used in golem engineering. He had tried to teach her about animals before and had settled on that being a lost cause.

Sybil maintained her higher than mighty attitude. “And if that isn’t correct, I will remind you that I was busy studying other, more important subjects while I was in the core. None of us saw the point in wasting our time over creatures we would never have to see.”

Alton raised his voice. “Hayden?”

A voice responded from the other side of the library. “Yeah?”

“What’s a weasel?”

“A small, carnivorous mammal. It’s shaped like a furry tube. You know, like a stout?”

“Thank you, Hayden,” he called back. Alton then proceeded to stare judgmentally at Sybil.

Sybil scoffed. “Shouldn’t we stop wasting our time?”

“Yes, we should...” Rebecca loudly flipped a page in her journal. “Why is it illegal to hunt curved ear swallows?”

“The Gilded Region once held a campaign to exterminate them as part of their development of the wheat industry. The following year, a booming insect population decimated the crops and caused a region-wide famine. It took ten years of protective breeding for the species to recover. Their populations have been monitored ever since.”

Rebecca was relieved to learn that she at least knew that. “Knowledge is a living beast. It’s an entity that we inherit from the previous generation. Our responsibility is to encourage its growth and to not repeat the scars that mark its body. The future depends on our ability to nurture it.”

Sybil smirked. “That sounds like something Professor Rosethorn would say.”

“He did say it,” replied Rebecca. “The professor is a remarkable man, but his services are better placed in the war effort.” She then checked her watch. “That brings our lessons to an end. We’ll be covering ship navigation next time.”

Sybil crinkled her nose. “Ship navigation?”

“Duxton stated that you were interested in traveling outside of Lustro once you graduated. Is that not correct?” Rebecca stood up and began to organize the books on the table.

Sybil stood up to help her. “Yes, I just…” She hadn’t realized that Duxton had actually been paying attention when she mentioned it. “I was planning on traveling with Professor Rosethorn during his next research expedition.”

“And I was planning on joining a shipping company in the Coral Kingdom once I graduated,” replied Rebecca. “I’ve been doing what I can to prepare for it. Duxton believes that we can benefit from studying together.”

A smile broke out on Sybil’s face. She bowed deeply. “I appreciate it! I’ll look forward to studying with you!” She then turned to Alton. “It’s great, isn’t it?”

Alton put on a fake smile. “Yeah… It is.”

Though he understood that they would be spending time apart once they graduated, Alton found himself full of dread. What sort of people would they be once they reunited? Would they have changed for the better or for the worse? He had started to wonder if Sybil was going to survive until graduation, but was relieved that she still hoped there would be a good future for them.

They helped Rebecca put away the books and headed to their next appointment. Veximarl had messaged the two of them, asking to meet up before they did anything else. He met up with them in the courtyard, right outside the library.

“We have our next assignment,” said Veximarl as he nodded at the two of them.

“I thought you were busy with classes,” replied Sybil.

Veximarl shook his head. “Basil had to return early from his mission due to a leg injury. He’s quite alright, simply a fall off a horse, but he was no longer good for the hunt. He and I agreed to both take over the class so that either of us can participate in missions when it is necessary. All Basil will need to do is cover local poisons. All is well.”

Alton put a hand on his hip. “What’s the mission?”

“Are the two of you familiar with Felsend?”

They nodded. Felsend was the old capital of the Gilded region. Lustro was once a land where magic could only be cast in mist regions. Many of them, like Carapace and Fogbloom, became fortified bases ruled by the most powerful of prophets. When Brayton’s descendants formed Lustro, the Gilded Region capital moved from northern coastline to the more centralized Felsend, which was only a day’s travel north of the barracks.

As trade between the regions grew, the city began to experience exponential growth. Entire forests were leveled in order to fuel Felsend’s progress. However, the death of King Cadogan led to emergency restructuring within the Gilded Region.

They chose to retake the old forts that had been built along the coast, preemptively protecting themselves out of fear that King Cadogan’s death would lead to the fall of Lustro. First the nobles fled, then the general populace. In less than a decade, Felsend devolved into a ghost town. Citizens had either moved north or relocated to Mareth or Tilrey.

In order to give back to the wilds that were destroyed during the city’s birth, citizens began to plant trees as they moved out. That tradition carried on to the squires of Braytons, whose first years planted trees there after they had passed the entrance exams. They did so for decades, up until Alice Grimhawk, who had been the knight to guide them there, died during the Southern War. Not a single squire has headed to the city since.

“Sir Grimhawk wants us to plant trees?” Asked Sybil.

“Yes,” replied Veximarl. “I do not wish to alarm you, but part of the reason why Sir Grimhawk the Younger has come to Braytons is because of his grandfather’s failing health. It is quite likely that we will be his last squad. It is our responsibility to do what we can to make him feel comfortable and he wishes to visit Felsend one last time. Our mission will be to escort him there.”

That was all well and good, “But I can’t leave the barracks,” replied Sybil.

“For a very good reason,” reminded Alton. “I understand that Sir Grimhawk may want all of us there, but we can’t go now. Zan is still on mission and Chi is overloaded with work. Even if they were here, Sybil’s safety should always come first.”

Veximarl held up his hands. “I understand that but Sir Grimhawk the Elder insisted that the time is now. Our enemies are currently scattered. My own available time is limited, and I would not have proposed this if I were not going. Today is our only chance to escort him there.”

Alton and Sybil exchanged a look. “Are you serious?” Asked Alton. “You seriously want to leave today?”

Veximarl gestured to a wagon in the courtyard. “I refrained from packing any of your personal belongings but all other supplies are handled. We even have saplings prepared. The two of you may prepare what you need while I tell Chi that we’re leaving.”

“You haven’t told Chi yet?” Sybil was worried about how quickly Veximarl had plotted this. This wasn’t like him. He had always insisted that rushing would lead to mistakes.

Alton narrowed his eyes. He studied the sweat on Veximarl’s brow, and the nervous tick of his fingers as he spoke. “... Alright. We’ll go pack.” He put an arm around Sybil’s shoulder and whispered in her ear. “It’ll be fine.”

Sybil looked between the two before nodding her head. She wanted to protest, but it felt like she had done nothing but allow for her problems to ruin the other’s plans. Grimhawk’s wishes were more important than her own worries and she doubted that he would ask for them to do something dangerous. A squeeze was given to Alton’s hand, and the two of them headed to the dorms.

Veximarl’s eyes followed them for a moment before he headed towards the forge. He stopped suddenly and put his hand to his temple. A moment of vertigo had overtaken him, forcing him to take a deep breath before he continued on.

Chickadee was found sorting through wooden crates. He pulled out piece after piece of intricate armor and was neatly arranging them on the table. Hammered steel with a dark blue stain and gold inlays. Several of the pieces, especially around the helmet, had agate embedded into them.

“A fine piece of work,” muttered Veximarl as he approached.

“Not mine,” replied Chickadee. He gestured to a work order that was on the table.

Veximarl glanced at it. Buttonweed had received an emergency order earlier today and had to immediately leave for the north. He needed his dress armor to be maintenanced and sent to him. The paladin couldn’t afford to travel slowly, nor could he linger in Duke Sickleson’s court without the proper attire. Ira Knut and Chickadee would have to spend several sleepless nights working on it in order to have it finished on time.

“A shame,” whispered Veximarl. He put a hand to the side of his head again. “I would rather you find a way to follow us for the upcoming mission. Sir Grimhawk has decided that we must leave today.”

Chickadee furrowed his brows. He didn’t respond right away. He merely stared at Veximarl. “In no condition to travel,” he said with a wave of his hand. Veximarl was having trouble standing straight. There was no way he was mission ready.

“We will be going by wagon,” replied Veximarl. “You need not worry about Sir Grimhawk the Elder’s health.”

Chickadee tensed up for a moment. “... Tell Sybil to leave falchion here.”

Veximarl was certain that Chickadee would put up more of a fight, but was relieved when he didn’t. “Thank you. I will ask her to drop it off here before we head out.”

He gave Chickadee a brief hug and headed to the kitchens next. Box after box of food was being loaded into the wagon, though Veximarl had assured them that they didn’t need so much. Grimhawk was fond of his snacks and the kitchens were more than willing to provide if he was the one to ask.

Once Alton and Sybil had returned, they helped Grimhawk get into a bed in the back of the wagon. He promptly fell asleep, as travel had always bored him. There wasn’t much sightseeing that a blind man could do and the wagon’s noise made it difficult for him to follow conversation.

Sybil moved onto the driver’s bench with Veximarl, and Alton lingered near the front of the wagon. A faint melody began to play through the air as Alton lightly plucked the strings of his harp. No one said anything for the first hour of travel, content to sit and enjoy this brief moment of tranquility.

Alton was the first to break this silence. He spoke in a low voice to the other two. “Are we far enough away from the barracks?”

Veximarl glanced behind him and then back to the road. “There certainly are fewer ears here. Why? Is there something on your mind, Alton?”

Alton frowned. “I think we all agree that planting trees isn’t our main objective.”

“Who is our target?” Sybil asked.

Veximarl let out a sigh. “I was hoping to inform you of the true nature of our mission once we made camp for the night. I had wished to stay within the calm before the storm for a few moments longer.”

“None of that matters as long as we have a target,” replied Sybil. “Who is it?”

“The mind mage and the elementalist, Miss Claire Lilium,” answered Veximarl. “Our goal is to lure them to us and to capture one of them. I fear that there truly is someone at the barracks who is working with them, and we must do everything we can to smoke them out.

Sir Grimhawk and I have been leaving a trail of breadcrumbs. We have strongly implied to a few others that the true nature of this mission is to permanently smuggle Sybil out of the barracks. If they wish to capture her, this may be their last opportunity to do so.”

“Then our goal is to bait out the spy?” Alton steadied his hands on the harp strings. “We should’ve brought Chi with us.”

Veximarl both agreed and disagreed. “Chi has already proven himself capable of silencing other elementalists. As unfortunate as it may seem, having him with us will get us no closer to our goal. They may choose to avoid us if they feel that Miss Lilium is unfit to battle. One of the reasons why we had to leave today was because we needed to make it seem like Chi could not be with us.

Mister Alder is also aware of our situation. He knows where we plan to make camp each night and is prepared to head to us if he feels like we are in over our heads. Bronzescale’s movements today have made it seem like we are planning for Sybil’s departure. I firmly believe that our targets will be unable to avoid the bait we have given them.

This is our one and only opportunity to go on the offensive. For the sake of Sybil and Braytons, we will no longer allow for spies to hide among us.” Veximarl nodded, mostly to reassure himself. “We will not let this chance slip through our fingers. The time to strike back is now.”