I woke to the sound of small talons on broken stone. Ash was awake before me, as she always was. She sat against the stump of a fallen pillar with her hair loose and one of the borrowed tomes closed in her lap. She was watching Sol. The phoenix was conducting her morning patrol of the wreckage. That was a marked improvement over how she usually woke me -most often by pecking at my skin.
"You're awake," Ash said.
"Did you think I would sleep late today of all days?"
"Well, you were snoring."
That gave me pause, but only for a moment. "I do not snore." Ash smiled. She did not acknowledge the correction, though she should have.
We gathered our things. The tomes. The satchel with Sol's cushion she had hardly used, and the book inside it that I had sworn not to pry at, and had not pried at, and thought about not prying at several times a day. I suspected Ash had only read it when I was asleep, though I could not be sure. My hands had just found the satchel strap when the great door groaned.
I turned, expecting Ren and the others, as they had come on every day before this. What came through the door instead was a face I had not seen in some days. Inker Aldric stepped into the chamber, and stopped, and looked at it.
Something about the man seemed different. I saw that at once and could not say how. His gaze crossed the ruins of the chamber, and then he looked at my arms, at the Lines that still ran up them, then his gaze finally found mine. "You are to report to the Arena," he said, "in exactly one hour."
"We will be there."
He nodded. His gaze found Sol then, mid-patrol, and held there. Sol stopped, but only to roll on the ground. She seemed completely oblivious to the attention. "So this is the creature," Aldric said, "that hatched from that egg."
"She is."
He looked at her for a moment longer then looked back at me. "The Archon has made your stay here comfortable," he said. "The Sigils have not had their cycling class in three days, because you were using their chamber. Now they will wait longer still, while it is repaired." He paused. "There were other benefits to Consecration, as you well know. They might have lasted, had you kept your head down."
I looked down my nose at the man. "What I do with what I am given," I said, "is none of your concern."
I waited for the sneer. It was expected. Aldric sighed instead. "I suppose," he said, "you are right."
He turned toward the door. He stopped with one hand on its edge, and his mouth opened, and I watched him begin a sentence. "If you-" He looked at me. Whatever the sentence had been, he did not share. "One hour," he said, and left.
The door groaned shut. Sol chirped once at the space where he had been. It seemed she had not been oblivious after all. "I do not like that man," I said, "any more now than I did back then."
"He's a strange one," Ash agreed. She looked at me. "Well Lys, ready?"
I looked at her. "To whom," I said, "do you believe you are asking that question?"
Ash smiled.
The mess hall was fuller than I had ever seen it, and it was still quiet. Every other time it had sounded like a dozen different conversations all fighting over each other. Now, there were only whispers. Hundreds of them and every one of them pointed the same direction. It was not difficult to guess which. The name Lysanthia came up often enough.
I ate my porridge. The woman who served me had given it honey without my asking. Sol sat on the table's edge beside my bowl, working through a strip of meat I had bathed in white fire, pecking and chirping between bites
"Look at her." The voice came from two tables down. "Feeding that thing off her own spoon."
"Let Lysanthia eat." A second voice said. "It's the last meal she'll take here."
Ash's jaw had set. I saw her hand pause on the table. "Ignore them," I said.
Ash let out a breath through her nose. "Let me guess. The opinions of the weak are beneath you."
"Something to that effect." I took another spoonful. "It seems my retainer is learning."
"Your retainer," Ash said, "is watching you start your third bowl."
"The bowls are small."
"I can’t even eat two, Lys."
"Perhaps that’s why you humans are weak, you eat too little."
She laughed at that and some of the strain went out of her jaw, which had been the point.
The humans whispered, and some of that whispering had teeth. Most of it was just curiosity, I knew. There was to be a public spectacle, and those who could not create their own could only watch and murmur from afar.
None of the demonbloods I saw whispered. Some of them met my gaze. Others stared out at the humans around them warily. One -the girl in the arena who had refused to blink- gave me the faintest of nods. At least they did not shy away. They were not quite standing, not under the weight of so many humans, but kneeling on one’s knees was better than lying on one’s back.
The whispers followed us out of the hall and down the corridors. Every student we passed stopped and stared. Some were evidently talking about me, only to see me in the flesh, stop and stare and then whisper the moment I moved away.
Sol did not ignore the whispers. From her perch between my horns she loosed a sharp chirp at anyone whose staring was too obvious, and the starers flinched, which she appeared to find deeply satisfying.
"She's rather protective," Ash said.
"She is surprisingly restrained," I said, "given what she can do." I reached up and patted her without breaking stride. Sol leaned into it.
Ash was quiet for a few steps. "...That's a good point, actually."
We were three corridors from the Beast Hall when Sol started fussing.
I had been explaining the arrangement to her, as was proper. "I will not be long," I told her. "A few hours at most. I will give that woman your cushion, and your meals have been prepared, you will not want for any-"
The weight lifted from my head. I turned, and Sol was in the air.
She hung there, in front of my face, all four wings beating, and for two full seconds she flew. Her golden eyes fixed on mine with an expression that could only be determination. Pride sparked in me. She could already do this much, so soon after-
Then gravity overpowered her, and she dropped. I caught her. My hands were there before the thought was. She sat in my cupped palms and chirped at me, and the chirping was furious.
"What is the matter with you?" I searched the bond and found…anger. No, it was something that sat close to the place where anger lived. It was indignation, but over what? She was fed and she was healthy. Her feathers sat correctly and her cushion had been packed with the requisite care.
"Lys." Ash's voice was very soft. "I think she wants to be there."
I looked at Sol. Sol looked at me. Her golden eyes had not blinked. Surely not. She was a hatchling. She was a creature of instinct. Surely she did not understand what today was. Surely-
Sol let out a chirp that sounded, remarkably, like agreement. I stared at her. She stared back, four wings folded in the manner of folded arms. "Do you wish to watch?" I asked.
I had asked a bird for her opinion. Worse, I waited for the answer. Sol tipped her head back, looked at the ceiling, and let out a single clear trill.
"I was sure there was more going on in there," Ash said. She was grinning openly now. "It seems little Sol is quite intelligent."
"Yes," I said. "It seems so." I lifted her back to her place between my horns, and she settled without fuss. "Very well. If the Archon objects, I will simply inform him that the matter is beyond negotiation."
"Naturally."
"Naturally."
We turned from the Beast Hall's direction, and Ash led the way toward the Arena, which was fortunate, because I would have confidently led us anywhere else.
I did not need her guidance for long. The crowd thickened with every turn. There were more looks, more whispers, and Sol chirped louder to answer all of them. The last corridor opened onto a yard, and the Arena stood across it.
A slow horde of students filed up the staircases along the building's flanks. Before the main doors stood the Archon, who seemed almost unremarkable at a distance, and beside him stood the Elf, whose robes caught the sun and made them shine.
Ash and I looked at each other. We took a step. "Hey! Wait the hell up!"
I paused and turned. Ren was crossing the yard from our side at a pace just short of a run. Corin trailed her. Alisa followed behind. She did not look at us as she walked, as if it was just coincidence she and they had ended up along the same path. And behind the three of them, half a step back was Edda.
The girl was on her feet. She was on her feet and staring at the ground.
"What the hell," Ren demanded as soon as she stood a few paces away, "were you planning to just walk in without seeing us?"
"You were not there to attend to me this morning," I said. "That failing is your own."
"Attend to-" Ren's fist came up, shaking. "Who the hell do you think we are?!"
"We did come," Corin offered. "You were already gone by the time we got to the chamber."
Ah. They had come for us, and simply missed us. That was perhaps slightly more acceptable than what I had assumed. Only slightly.
"I had half thought," Alisa announced, "that my rival had turned tail and run."
I snorted. "Perhaps I might have considered a single step back," I said, "were I facing a sky filled with dragons, horizon to horizon. Perhaps."
Alisa blinked. "...Well. Good!"
"Hey, Edda." Ash raised a hand and waved. "It's good to see you on your feet. Are you feeling alright?"
Ren and Corin stepped aside and Edda stood before me with her gaze still on the flagstones. "I woke up a few hours ago," she said.
"She woke up late," Ren muttered, "and scared us half to death doing it. Healer said a day. It was three. Who does that?"
Edda did not respond to this. Ash was looking at me, and her eyes were saying something that I could not read. Then Edda raised her head, and her eyes were fierce. "If you're doing this for my sake," she said, "then withdraw, please." Ren and Corin stared at her. Even Alisa looked surprised. Ash looked…like she had expected just this.
"You haven't advanced," Edda said. The words came fast as though she had lain in that infirmary bed crafting them. "Ren told me all about it. Your Lines are curling but that’s not a Sigil. And now your whole plan is to outlast a Tenet, and- I know you're strong but she's a Sigil! If this is because of me and that duel, then it isn't worth it. Please." Her hands had closed at her sides. It was perhaps the most I had ever heard from her. "You wanted me to stand, didn’t you? So I'm asking you…don't fall for my sake."
I opened my mouth to answer. I have faced beings this girl could not imagine if she spent her life imagining. I had stood beneath a dragon whose great wings blot out the sky. I had walked through an ocean of black fire, past the edge of the world. I had done things the finest poets could not find words for.
I looked into Edda’s eyes. My speech was true and it was also useless, because it answered a question she had not asked. "I am doing this for myself," I said. "No one else. And Edda," I held her gaze. "I will win."
She stared at me for a long moment. Whatever she was searching my face for, she must have found it, because the fierceness faded, and she nodded. Sol chirped from between my horns. It was, unmistakably, agreement.
Ash's hand found the small of my back. It rested there for the space of two breaths and withdrew. "Lys," Ash said quietly.
I turned. The Archon stood behind me. His gaze passed over all of us. Over Ren, who gulped and straightened. Over Corin, who bowed his head. Over Alisa, who met his gaze openly. Over Edda, on whom it rested a fraction longer than the others. Over Ash, and the purple Line of the Veil. It drifted up to Sol on my crown. Then it settled on me. "Are you ready for this?" he asked.
"I am."
His eyes went to my forearms. To the dulled red and the dulled green that branched nowhere. "Not quite in time, then," he said."Perhaps it was too much to ask for."
"It will not be an issue."
"We shall see." He turned toward the Arena. "Come. You are precisely on time." His gaze touched the others once more. "Naturally, you will come alone."
Ash stepped forward. My hand found her shoulder before the step could finish. "Naturally," I said.
The Archon's eyes had found Sol again. He sighed. "You brought her here," he said. "Which means you intend to have her watch."
"You have the right of it."
"That is not safe."
"Sol is perfectly well-mannered." Sol chirped. Whether or not that helped her case, I did not know.
I expected the man to argue. Instead he studied the small bird a moment longer, and then he nodded, slowly. "Very well. I am told she has not burned anything since that day. So, If you are sure, then so be it. Though naturally, she cannot be with you."
That was only to be expected. I reached up and lifted Sol from my crown. Ash's hands were already out. "You will be good," I told Sol. "You will not cause trouble."
Sol looked at me. Her head tilted. She let out two chirps. I set her into Ash's hands, and Ash lifted her to the crown of her own golden head, where Sol settled.
"Now," the Archon said. "Walk with me."
"Go on, Lys," Ash said. Her eyes were very blue in the morning light. "We'll be watching." I nodded, more faintly than I intended, and followed.
We crossed the yard side by side, the old man and I, and the horde on the staircases watched us do it. He said nothing for a dozen paces. "Marquis Eckhart will be in the crowd," he finally said.
I did not break stride. "The man who rules this city."
"Yes. The very same." He looked at me. "We attempted to bar him entry. It is custom to-"
"All customs need coin," I said, "and coin does not need customs."
The Archon laughed. It was a strange sound from him. "Just so," he said.
We walked. The Arena's shadow reached out across the yard to meet us. "This changes nothing," I said. "If you mean to caution me with a name, know that there is no name in this world that would give me pause."
"I meant nothing of the sort. My apologies." And the infuriating thing was that he plainly meant the apology. "I simply wished you to be aware of him. I doubted you would recognize the man on your own."
"How will I know him?"
"You will know him." the Archon said.
We reached the doors. The Elf stood before them in her shining robes, and when she saw the Archon she offered something adjacent to a salute. When she saw me, her mouth curved. "So," she said. "Right on time. You showed up after all, Lysanthia."
The Archon looked at her and the curve went out of the Elf's mouth, and color came up her pale neck, and she turned toward the doors with great interest.
The Archon leaned toward me, and his voice dropped to something almost below a whisper. "May the Divine's favor be with you," he said, and stepped away.
The Elf raised her hand. The doors swung open, and the noise spilled out. The stands were full.
I had seen this building empty and thought it built for vanity alone, with seats enough for the whole Academy and another Academy besides. It was not empty now. It was filled with what seemed like ten thousand eyes, and every one of them turned as I stepped through the doors. The noise dipped, and then swelled.
The Elf led the way down. The ring at the center was larger than it had been for Edda’s duel. It was a single raised expanse of pale stone, and standing at the heart of it, arms folded, was Lena Eckhart. My gaze slid off her and moved towards the crowd.
The podium was impossible to miss, which was its purpose. It jutted from the eastern stands, raised above the common tiers, and upon it sat an older man drowning in his own finery. His jewels shone in the light. I had seen kings dress this way. I had seen precisely what their finery bought them, in the end. His glare found me across the whole width of the Arena.
Behind his shoulder stood the man in blue. The same man from the Archon's office on that day the girl had issued me her duel. He was a guard, then.
Malachor had a row to himself. The great grey half-demon sat at the center of an empty stretch of seats, humans and demonbloods alike having granted him a moat of open seats, and both of his heads were watching me in silence. His right hand rose into a fist. It was a gesture I chose to interpret as encouragement. His left hand pulled it back down.
And then I searched, because I somehow knew she would be here. Ilyasviel had an entire section to herself.
She sat high in the western tiers. The row she sat in was empty. The row right in front of her was empty, as was the one behind. I was too far to read her face. Not too far to feel the attention in it.
Then, finally, I saw whom I’d been wanting to find. Ash cut along a bench with Ren and Corin and Alisa and Edda in tow, claiming seats in the second row on the stands opposite me. Sol rode her crown. She was hard to see clearly from here. The bird's beak opened for a chirp I could not possibly hear across that noise. I felt it anyway.
The Elf paced the ring ahead of me and raised one hand, and her voice went out over the stands, reaching every seat. "By sanction of the Koralis Academy," she announced, "we have a formal duel. Not a ranking match. As such, normal Academy rules regarding competitor safety do not apply. Both contestants will fight until one yields, is knocked out of the ring, or cannot continue." She was enjoying this. It was in the cadence. "Lena Eckhart, Sigil, ranked ninth among all Sigils of this Academy, against the Consecrated student Lysanthia. A Line."
"The terms, agreed and witnessed. Should Lena Eckhart prevail-" the Elf's voice warmed by a degree, "-the Consecrated Lysanthia shall be expelled from this Academy, never to return."
Approval rolled through the crowd. Not from everyone, but enough. As before, the one was loud enough to drown out the four.
"And should Lysanthia prevail," the Elf continued, and now the smugness rose in her voice, "Lena Eckhart shall never again enter her sight, and shall never harm, nor seek to harm, any of-" she paused, "-her blood."
Her blood. The Elf had said it as mockery. She did not know how true she was.
I stood at the ring's edge and waited. The Archon had taken up a position a dozen feet from the ring, opposite where I stood now. I could read nothing on his face. I stepped up onto the stone.
The ring was larger than it had looked from the doors. Lena stood at its center, and as I crossed toward her she turned from the crowd she had been drinking, and she smiled. "I'm going to enjoy this, half-demon," she called.
I ignored her. The Ember Core hummed beneath my ribs. "Are you even listening to me?" Lena's voice sharpened. She took a step forward, and her Sigil woke along her forearm, blue light crawling up the length of it. "That's the thing I hate most about you. All of you. You half-demons walk around thinking you're better than everyone else."
I stopped ten paces from her, and looked at her properly for the first time since that day in the mess hall.
She wore the smirk well. She wore the contempt properly. But I had spent a thousand years reading the faces of those who stood across from me, and beneath the smirk, down where she believed no one could see, the fear sat exactly where it had sat on that day. It was not fear of me, I knew. Perhaps it was not even fear of the red-skinned half-demon who sat in the western section.
"You still have a chance to end this," I said.
Lena's smirk widened. She spread her arms to the crowd, to her father's podium, to the ten thousand eyes. "What's this? Scared for your safety, half-demon?"
"No," I said. The Ember Core hummed. Somewhere far above me, too far to hear and heard regardless, a small creature chirped once.
The humans cheered, or watched in silence. The demonbloods were simply silent. I had thought them lesser for making themselves small, for wearing chains of their own choosing. All the while I had worn chains of my own choosing.
I withdrew my Essence from the twin bracers. Red and green Lines fell. In their place, sat Black and White. Lena’s eyes widened. Behind her, I saw the Archon’s face. He dipped his head. I did not know what that expression meant.
"I am scared for yours."