"Achoo!"
Inside the headmasters office, Belial muffled a sneeze into her hand, turning her face away as she did so. She had been summoned for a "tea session"a polite euphemism for a disciplinary talkfollowing a student complaint.
Across from her, Headmistress Gullveig wordlessly handed her a handkerchief.
Belial took it with a muffled, "Thank you."
From their very first meeting, Gullveig had noticed that Belial treated her differently from most others.
Everyonestudents, teachers, parents, even nobles and royals with no direct ties to the schoolapproached her with careful reverence. Her achievements alone warranted such deference, but there were other reasons as well.
Belial seemed to be attempting the same level of respect, yet beneath her outward mannerisms, Gullveig could detect an unshaken audacity, an unrestrained ease.
The more she observed Belial, the more intrigued she became. Who exactly was this girl? Days of investigation had yielded littleonly that Belial had arrived in Wende Towns inn on the night of Little May 23rd and registered at the Mercenary Guild the following morning.
Beyond that, there was nothing. It was as if she had sprung from the earth itself, possessing unfathomable strength and keen insight, yet with no past to trace.
Strangely, she bore an uncanny resemblance to the Duchess. Were it not for Gullveigs close ties with the noblewoman, she might have shared Freys suspicionthat Belial was the Duchesss illegitimate child.
Now, regarding the incident in the swordsmanship class, Gullveig questioned Belial about the use of a vampires innate abilityEnthrallon a student, which had reportedly caused psychological distress.
Belial readily admitted to it but explained that it had been a reactionary response. Lady Iluli Enbra had provoked her first, and in a moment of irritation, she had merely taught the girl a minor lesson.
Then, with an arched brow, she asked, If another teacher were to discipline a student for being disrespectful, would the school interfere?
Gullveig hesitated before answering, ...As long as the punishment doesnt inflict serious physical harm.
A century ago, educational discipline had been harsher compared to modern timesa fact Belial had noted during her employment oath.
Well, Belial said, matter-of-factly, I clearly caused no bodily harm. Though Im merely a substitute, I would still appreciate being treated as a teacher, not a student in need of guidance.
Gullveig fell silent for a moment before ultimately accepting Belial reasoning. However, she then reminded her, You still havent personally apologized to Mr. Bright and Professor Samuel regarding the last incident.
Belial blinked. Oh, I already apologized to Bright, she said, lying through her teeth. As for Professor Samuel I was too busy preparing lessons and simply forgot. Ill go find him shortly.
Gullveig regarded her with a long, weary stare before sighing. Sometimes, I find myself tornhalf regretting that you arent a student at this school, half relieved that we dont have to deal with a troublemaker like you.
Being called a child by a gnome who barely reached 1.3 meters tall was an amusing irony.
The conversation gradually shifted to other matters. Gullveig attempted to probe Belial origins again, but every inquiry was met with artfully woven half-truths.
Eventually, the discussion turned to Frey, prompting Gullveig to ask, Do you still have any Thunder Dragon bones?
Belial sipped her tea before replying, I do. Do you need them?
The school requires them to reinforce the protective barrier, Gullveig explained. There are substitutes, but none as effective.
How much?
Five grams, ground into powder, would suffice.
Belial made a thoughtful sound before retrieving a glass vial from her bracelet. Inside were three finger bones.
She set the vial on the table, where one of the bones tapped lightly against the glass upon impact.
As gratitude for the schools hospitality and tolerance, I am willing to provide these free of charge, she offered with a polite smile. However, the peculiar shape of the bones made Gullveig hesitate.
Belial understood her reaction. When she had first presented these at the Mercenary Guild, the professional appraisers had outright accused her of deception, convinced they were human bones rather than dragon remains.
Yet every test had confirmed their true origin.
She wouldnt mind if Gullveig chose to verify them again.
After a second round of examination, the headmistress voiced her bewilderment. Why do they resemble human bones?
Belial cupped her tea and, in a deliberately eerie tone, murmured, If you were to imprison a dragon and force it to remain in a weakened human form, then the bones you severed from it would always retain a human shape.
Gullveigs face darkened. ...Impossible.
Belial burst into laughter. Of course its impossible. These bones were intentionally altered. This way, if bandits ever raided me, they wouldnt immediately recognize their value.
Gullveig stared at her.
If bandits encountered you, theyd be the unlucky ones.
Their conversation wound to an end. Just as Belial was about to take her leave, someone knocked on the door. A water spirit from Mirror Lake entered, protesting a recent trend among studentsskipping stones at the lake. He even held a signed petition, demanding that the school ban the activity.
A lump swelled on his forehead, evidence of an unfortunate encounter with a stray stone. His emotions ran high, forcing Gullveig to focus on calming him down.
Meanwhile, Belial was left at the guest table, idly sipping tea. The enchanted teapot, which trotted around on tiny legs, refilled her cup before scuttling away, its lid clattering noisily.
As boredom set in, Belial gaze drifted around the office, scanning various alchemical artifacts. Eventually, her eyes settled on a peculiar metallic table.
Suspended above it were eight floating metal spheres, each revolving independently. The table itself was embedded with gemstones representing the eight elements, inscribed with intricate runes and magic circles.
Intrigued, Belial studied the inscriptions, trying to discern its purpose. But as she focused on the symbols, her consciousness wavered.
When she regained awareness, she was no longer seated. She now stood before the table, holding one of the metal spheres in her hand.
The sphere bore additional inscriptions. Almost instinctively, Belial twisted it, aligning the runes into readable texta seemingly nonsensical code.
Something is off.
Before she could analyze the situation further, Gullveigs voice cut through the silence.
Belial?
She turned to face the headmistress, the metal sphere still clutched in her palm.
Apologies, Belial said. I dont know why I did that.
Gullveig stared, momentarily stunned, before her gaze shifted between Belial and the floating spheres.
This isnt your fault, she admitted after a pause. It called to you.
Belial narrowed her eyes. What is this table for?
...A gaming table, Gullveig said, unconvincingly. It draws people in.
Belial knew a lie when she heard one. She set the sphere back, watching as it seamlessly resumed its rotation.
Interesting, she mused, pretending to accept the explanation before taking her leave.
Once she was gone, the water spirit scoffed, Youre terrible at lying.
Gullveig blinked. Was it that obvious?
You should mix truth with falsehood next timeits harder to detect.
Noted.
But the truth was more unsettling.
The eighth sphere had appeared on Little June 15ththe very night the Duchess had been saved with Thunder Dragon bones.
Originally, she had been destined to die.
Which meant that Belial, an anomaly in fate, had rewritten destiny itself.
Did she know? Had it been intentional? Or was she merely an unwitting catalyst?
Gullveig shelved her growing list of questions for now. There were more immediate concerns.
Because at that moment, a deafening explosion rocked the castle.