Arenya stepped into Professor Kazurist’s office, sheaf of papers in hand. The professor looked up from the floor where he was sorting and reordering countless sheets of paper and beamed. “Ah, Arenya! Here to prepare for the exam in two weeks? You’ve outpaced the rush that will begin soon.”

  “No, not quite,” said Arenya. She idly ran a hand through her hair. “I actually have some Follower questions.”

  "Is that so? Sit, sit. It will certainly be more interesting than sorting all these papers for the next journal." Professor Kazurist gestured towards the one seat in his office not covered in loose sheets. “What do you want to know about?”

  “Two things, mainly. The Levyat and Hardal.”

  Professor Kazurist blinked. “An… interesting duology. They aren’t studied often. What about them?”

  “I’m trying to figure out what Hardal’s purpose was when he captured the daughter of the Hashess. Was he only interested in marrying into the family, or was it lust? I can’t tell.” Arenya looked at the top page of her notes, covered in crossed out lines and scribbles. “And how can we talk about him clipping the wings of Barbus without comparisons to Xelax? Were there supposed to be comparisons to Xelax?”

  Professor Kazurist folded his hands. He stared at Arenya. His face betrayed not one hint of emotion.

  Arenya gulped.

  “What, precisely, do you need to know this information for?”

  The one question Arenya had hoped he wouldn’t asked.

  “It’s for, uh… a creative project.”

  “One you’ve written out on those papers?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I see it?”

  Arenya hesitated. Her hands felt clammy. “Yeah,” she said after a few seconds, before placing the top sheet on Professor Kazurist’s ornate wooden desk. The desk too was covered in papers, though a small area was clear save for a mug of a steaming beverage.

  Professor Kazurist picked up the paper and squinted at it. Seconds passed in painful silence. “What,” said Professor Kazurist at last, his voice flat and devoid of emotion, “is this?”

  “Sorry,” said Arenya. “I know it’s organized terribly. Cartalis gave me some tips on note-taking but I didn’t listen to her until I’d finished the first page or two.”

  “That’s not what I meant and I think you know it.” Professor Kazurist placed the sheet on the desk again and pushed it back towards Arenya. He adjusted his wide-brimmed hat without taking his eyes off her. “You appear to be writing a poem, with very bizarre meter. You’re marking lines with character names such as 'Queen of Decay' and 'The Guardian'. It discusses in detail Hardal’s most sickening acts in an almost reverent tone. By the Grace of The One Above, what is this?"

  “It’s not reverent! Hardal was horrific.”

  Professor Kazurist said nothing.

  Arenya squirmed in her seat. “It’s a song. Some friends of mine are planning a show and I offered to help them out.”

  Professor Kazurist said nothing.

  “It’s a weird show, and it’s a weird song, and the song isn’t very good, I know. But I really want to help them out the best I can. I have this one and one about the Levyat and the Bahum.”

  Professor Kazurist said nothing.

  Arenya said nothing.

  Professor Kazurist said nothing.

  “Oh, come on! I know you were listening to me and Daniel at the trial. You know what I’m talking about. Can’t you say something?”

  Professor Kazurist smiled, melting Arenya’s tension. “To what end? My silence led you to say more than I would have asked for.”

  In an instant, the smile was gone, replaced with a stern face. The tension returned. “You’re involving yourself in dangerous things, you know. Things not befitting a Follower. You said Cartalis agreed to help… Is she aware of this song?”

  “Yeah. Her notes are on the back of that sheet.”

  Professor Kazurist cocked his head, reached out for the paper he’d pushed back to Arenya before, turned it over. “‘Two minutes ten seconds, lights go light red. Guardian (Drav) pantomimes the wing clipping. Must ensure blood is of correct color to be seen clearly against…’” Professor Kazurist rubbed his eyes. “Oh, my child… I know you came here to become a BladeMage, but that is for noble combat, not theatrics. And I see the Queen of Decay has lines… a woman sings in this, doesn’t she? In public? And you, as a properly dressed and behaved Follower, have no issue with this?”

  Arenya’s voice caught in her throat twice as she hunted for a response. “It’s… it’s art!” was all she could bring herself to say.

  Professor Kazurist said nothing.

  “Are you going to convince me to give this up?”

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  Professor Kazurist said nothing.

  “What do you want me to confess now?”

  “Nothing. I’m just trying to find the right words.” Professor Kazurist stared out the window, and took a deep breath. “Most of my family follows The Lunar One, as I said some time ago. Are you familiar with the allegations about them?”

  Arenya blinked. “Not really.”

  “Well, they’re known for being boisterous and excitable, and throwing themselves into projects with great passion. Like the Lunar One himself. And like you.” His voice flattened on the last sentence.

  “Is there something wrong with that?”

  “Not in and of itself.” Professor Kazurist affixed Arenya with a long stare. "But I have seen how that very same passion can drive one astray. When my brother and I went on pilgrimage to the Lunar One’s grave some years ago, I spent most of my time at the grave. He didn’t. He would always find excuses to visit some strange cottage or hotel on the borders of the city. He needed something there, or an old friend lived nearby… Eventually, I began asking questions of those around. I kept denying them, saying they were wrong, my brother would never do such a thing, again and again, even after I knew in my soul what they said was true.

  “He was sleeping with every prostitute he could find in the light-blinded city, declaring the pleasure of it served The One Above.”

  Arenya sprung to her feet. “How could he - but - why would -”

  “Those were my thoughts too, when I could deny it no longer. Sit down, Arenya.”

  Arenya sat.

  Professor Kazurist took a long sip of his drink before continuing. “When I confronted him about it, he seemed almost proud - declared that half of those who listened to The Lunar One did the same. The worst part is, he was right. They’d all been misled by their passions and desires, letting their hearts dictate them even in things they knew were wrong. The women - even my own sister-in-law, his wife - they all knew of this, but they’d resigned themselves all to it. They hardly even cared. And that’s why I left and joined the Crown of Three instead.”

  Arenya clenched her fists. “And you’re saying that seeking out harlots while pretending I’m on a sacred journey is the same thing as helping my friends with their music?”

  Professor Kazurist looked away, closed his eyes. “Arenya. I’m not telling you that you’re going to start some kind of harem if you continue on this path, or that you’re betraying The One Above.” He took a long sip of his drink. “I will help you. I’ll answer the questions you have about Hardal and the Levyat. But please, be careful. I’ve seen what happens to people who let themselves lead lives of unchecked passion. They find excuses to justify their stranger and stranger acts, not even realizing what they’ve become until it’s too late. Just… just be careful.”

  Arenya tried her hardest not to glare. “Cartalis is here, you know. She’s my friend. She’ll stop me if I’m doing anything wrong.”

  “Cartalis who broke into the graduate labs to help you?”

  Arenya’s face paled.

  “Cartalis who set a tripwire to catch another student - but only after asking you for approval?”

  Arenya pushed her hair in front of her face and peered through it, to hide her expression.

  “Cartalis who is devoting herself to vivid descriptions of recreating scenes of the Dragon Lords’ mutilation because you asked her to?”

  “B-b…” Arenya’s breaths began to hitch as she held back tears. She wrapped herself in her wing and hunched in her seat, hoping Professor Kazurist couldn’t tell how close she was to crying. “I didn’t ask her to do any of those things. She… she decided to set the trap and modify Shamir. I didn’t ask her to write the stage directions, she offered.”

  Arenya wrapped herself in her wing and hunched in her seat.

  "Cartalis is a very unique student," said Professor Kazurist. "She's brilliant, as I am sure you have realized. I have no doubt she will go on to do incredible things one day. But she's also very challenging. I've dealt with bored or lazy students struggling in class before, or rowdy ones starting fights before exams. She loves the teachers and hates other students. She is the first who I had both give perfect grades to and to reprimand for verbally attacking others. Even physically, once or twice, though she got off the hook those times when it became clear how much the other students were coming on to her. Even so, her behavior was unacceptable.

  "And yet, she began to mellow out after about three months. It's a pattern I've seen all through my years here. A student who grew up with a strong connection their family, alone and apart from them for the first time in their life, will always have a rocky start while they adjust to their new environment. Cartalis's behavior was the result of needing to learn to be on her own. That was all. So I thought, though I was still worried that she'd managed to scare off so many people that nobody was willing to be her friend. But she seemed fine with that, and her behavior had mellowed for the most part, so I let it slide.

  "And now she's back to her old ways. Worse, even. The Cartalis of last year would never have even considered breaking into a lab. Do you know what changed? I do.” Arenya could feel more than see Professor Kazurist’s cold gaze, hunched up as she was. “She met you.”

  A flurry of anger rose in Arenya’s chest. She stopped trying to hide it, unwrapped her wings from before her face, and glared at Professor Kazurist, heedless that he could see the wetness on her cheeks. “You think I’m corrupting her?” she yelled.

  Professor Kazurist’s voice remained calm, but Arenya could hear the tension beginning to bubble through. “Of course I don’t. But she’s lonely. The other students don’t like her. You know that. You’re the first person she met whom she felt a kinship with. And when you offered that to her, she grabbed it with both hands. She takes your side in everything and will do anything for you if it means you’ll stay her friend, because the thought of losing you is too painful. That, I suspect, is why she’s willing to break the rules for you an-”

  “Our friendship isn’t fake, Kazurist!” Arenya screamed.

  “Did I ever say it was? She’s a true friend to you, and you to her. But she won’t call you out if you’re doing something wrong. She knows how to call out her enemies when they break the rules - loudly and angrily and heedless of how they might feel. She doesn’t know how to call out her friends. She’ll swallow any morals she’s ever had in order to remain friends with you.”

  A knock on the doorframe jolted Arenya. Right. The door was open. And other students might come by.

  “Is this a bad time?” asked a voice. Arenya dimly recognized him as one of the people who’d asked how many apples she’d eaten on her first day here, all those weeks ago.

  “No, it’s fine,” said Arenya. “Just give me a moment.” She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her dress and stood. “Thank you, Professor.”

  “If you still have some time, you can stay here and join our fellow here to review course content. We can talk about Hardal afterwards. Let’s shelve the rest of this discussion for the moment.”

  Arenya let out a sigh of relief. Her breaths began to steady. “Thank you. That means a lot. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

  Arenya stood, picked up her papers, and grabbed her notebook from her bag. As the other student began to ask questions for the upcoming exam, she tried to follow and take notes at first, but found herself too distracted.

  Professor Kazurist was wrong. Drav and Zelzad weren’t corrupting her. Cartalis wasn’t so dedicated that it blinded her. And anyway, Arenya wasn’t Cartalis’ only friend. She’d become far more amiable with Drav, and even seemed to be losing her bitterness with Zelzad. And anyway, there was nothing for Cartalis to warn her about - There was nothing wrong with her having a little fun doing some songwriting on the side. Everything would be fine.

  She hoped.