"For some, learning is a path to life. For others, a path to growth. For a few, it is a path into emptiness. For me, it is merely a method of observation: to record the rhythm, the reactions, the goals. It is a function, not a destination."
Arrival at the Academy
The room was cool—the air had not touched a living breath for a long time. Outside the windows lay untouched snow: dense, dry, reflecting the stars of the Astrarium. The time for melting had not yet come—ahead were only long, aetherial nights and a cold that needed no permission from spring. Catherine and I returned to the Academy quietly: without welcomers, without announcements. No one met us at the gates, but that was not required. We returned to our room in silence and, before beginning to unpack, decided to tidy up to fully complete our preparations for the new semester.
After finishing the cleaning, I began to arrange my things, carefully folding them in the wardrobe and gradually returning to my usual rhythm. Catherine sat in a chair, sorting through her belongings; she had more of them, and she waited calmly for me to move away from the wardrobe. There was no tension in her movements: she easily took out the hairpin I had gifted her and fastened it in her hair.
"You know, for some reason, it feels strange to return to the academic rhythm," she said, not taking her eyes off her bag. "It's as if we were away not for sixty days, but for a year."
"That is a deceptive feeling," I replied, moving away from the wardrobe. "Time slows when a journey is uneventful. And ours was precisely that."
"Well, I don't know. I enjoyed traveling with you. Where else can one be in an enclosed space with Artalis Nox?" she said with a smirk.
"Literally everywhere, Catherine. Or are we not in an enclosed space right now?"
Catherine sighed.
"Well, yes, but it's not quite the same. On the road, everything feels different somehow. Every meal is precious, every stop…"
"Perhaps," I nodded.
"You know, Arta, I have a feeling that, although we don't see it yet, the Academy has already changed. I don't understand why I have this feeling, but it's not for nothing."
"I understand what you mean," I replied, turning my chair toward her and sitting down. "All these events with Frederik and the new rector have left their mark, and you know, I don't think things will suddenly get better here."
"Exactly!" Catherine exclaimed, taking out her notebook from the desk drawer. "And you can see it in everything. Even the rhythm of our studies has changed; we're on the kingdom's standard ten-day week now." She flipped through her notes. "Let's see… Eltar, Miren, Zolir, Keyris, Talven…" she faltered, tapping the names with her finger, "Rion, Savar, Entris, Fardin, and Yuvel. So that's eight working days, with Fardin and Yuvel as our weekends." Her voice took on a frustrated edge. "And Talven is now only a 'conditional' day off every other week. It means we're down to two and a half days of rest, if we're lucky—not the three and a half we had before."
Catherine turned the page.
"By the way, I've rewritten the second-year schedule here. I think it will be difficult. Look…" She ran her finger along the lines, as if she really wanted to discuss everything seriously. "Elemental Magic II is now divided into four streams: water, fire, air, and earth. Aether—only by special invitation for particularly talented students. Darkness Magic has remained. Light and Chaos—I suppose, are completely without us now," she added, not looking at me.
"Anything else interesting?" I asked calmly, appreciating her attention to detail.
"Not really. For example, fencing is a separate course. And there's also a subject on magical duels. I'll go to fencing. But magical duels… I don't know yet. Probably not."
She made a note in her notebook, underlining the line with this subject—probably deciding to make a decision later.
"Perhaps… later," she added a little more quietly. "Not now. After that duel… with you… I'm not yet ready to see it as a school assignment." She shook her head. "Etiquette, of course, has remained. Second level: diplomacy, representation, receptions. And a new course—'The Philosophy of Attachment.' It sounds like an attempt to pry open one's skull and explain why we feel anything at all," she smirked. "There's also 'Alchemy for Strategists'—about poisons, stabilizers, and strengthening formulas. I signed up, but if the subject turns out to be superfluous, I'll drop it. Rhetoric, household management, breathing practices… It's too much." She looked at the list again. "It all looks as if they're preparing us for the battlefield. Or for marriage. It makes no difference."
She fell silent, and the silence in the room was broken only by the snow sliding off the roof.
"Do you think we chose this?" she asked after a short pause.
I pretended to think, and then answered calmly, "Our choice does not always matter. What is more important is how we act within the given framework."
Catherine nodded in understanding and continued to study her notebook intently.
"I'm definitely going to fencing. Etiquette—too. I'll try alchemy, but if it turns out to be a formality—I'll drop it. As for the duels…" She looked up, narrowing her eyes, "And what did you choose? Don't tell me you chose everything again, like last semester."
I held my gaze on the table, as if choosing my words, but in reality, the decision had been made long ago.
"The same as you. Except for alchemy. And also—rhetoric. And of course—magical duels," I said with irony.
"You? In duels?" Her voice held not doubt, but an ironic wariness. "Why would you go there? You're a head above them; you'll hardly learn anything there."
I remained silent, deciding not to answer this question. She waited calmly, and when she realized there would be no answer, she shook her head and addressed me, "So you're also going where they are." She did not say their names, but the hint was clear without it. She paused briefly, then, turning to me to see my eyes, she added, "You know, I've been meaning to ask. Why are you even watching them? It's not just for no reason. This isn't like your usual detachment." She waited for an answer, but, seeing no reaction, she added, "Ren, Nova… you've been watching them since the first year. Don't tell me it's just interest; you don't have random interests."
"You could say that," I said calmly. "Nevertheless, it is just an unusual interest," I answered, avoiding a direct mention of my mission.
"And what is the interest then? Do you enjoy watching them?"
I looked her intently in the eye, sinking into silence for a few seconds. And only after that did I say, but a little more quietly, "I cannot say that I enjoy watching them…" I paused again to emphasize this. "Catherine, understand me correctly, I cannot be honest with you on this matter."
Catherine grunted sadly, "But you… it's not for nothing! At least tell me that!"
I shook my head, shifting my gaze to the window.
"It is not for nothing, Catherine," my voice sounded calm and measured. "I suppose in this matter, it is better for you to come to your own conclusions."
"You don't trust me again!" she said in a displeased voice.
"This is not a matter of trust, but a matter of safety. First and foremost—yours. There are things it is better not to know. If I ever have the opportunity to tell you about this, I will."
"I see, so that means…" she paused. "So it's not for nothing. You know, I remember our conversation in Eldenbridge, and it gives me chills."
"It is good that you remembered that conversation, and yes, it is directly related to this question."
"Alright," she said calmly. "Just, please, be careful, okay? And if you need my help—just say so. I trust you and I want you to trust me, even if I don't know all the details."
"Alright, Catherine, I will remember that, thank you."
"I hope so," she smiled lightly, looking me in the eye.
I looked back at her. It was obvious that she was going too far on a number of issues. Her trajectory was becoming distorted, skewed by a sincere curiosity and a misplaced belief in my infallibility. And if she continued to act as she was now—Chaotic Light would certainly notice. She always notices any unusual manifestations in her area of interest and may resort to the most extreme measures—murder.
Perhaps I could have warned her, but it was impossible. Not now, and most likely, not later.
I took out my notebook and, more to defuse the situation, noted from memory the classes that Ren and Nova attended jointly and regularly. And although these were guesses, I was sure that their schedule had not changed since the beginning of the academic year: Light magic, Chaos magic, magical duels, etiquette, and fencing. For full observation, I also had to take into account those subjects where they could potentially appear together or attended separately. The list here was a bit longer: five types of elemental magic, rhetoric, physical education, non-elemental magic. My own choice did not matter; I proceeded from the simple condition of observation, and that was enough. The other subjects, such as the properties of Veytra magic, Magic Conjugation, or the History of Female Power, were absolutely meaningless to me.
"If you want to know," I added after a pause, "I have chosen elemental magic, etiquette, rhetoric, non-elemental magic, fencing, and darkness magic. I plan to attend magical duels only sporadically, if it does not become a necessity."
Catherine nodded, and although she did not smile, there was a little less anxiety on her face. As if she was relieved by the very fact that I would not be attending magical duels constantly.
"By the way, they say there will be a new teacher for Darkness magic this semester. A smart woman, it will be interesting to see how experienced she is in this area."
"We will see. A new teacher can be both a plus and a minus. Only time will tell the rest."
She returned to her notebook again, and then addressed me.
"I will go to elemental magic, fencing, etiquette, and, of course, Darkness magic." She smiled to herself, and then slowly added, "I wonder if there will be anything more serious this semester than blinding coal-hooves?"
"Maybe. You yourself said that the new teacher is a smart woman. We will see in practice."
"Uh-huh…" Catherine sighed. "So, I'm also going to 'Alchemy for Strategists,' possibly rhetoric, and if there's time, 'Form and Dissonance: Non-Elemental Magic.' Do you think that will be more interesting than studying runes?"
"It will be ordinary theory, so get ready to cram," I replied ironically.
"Oh, not again! And I thought they would teach hidden techniques there!" she laughed, and then continued in a serious voice, "I also plan to attend breathing practices and…" she hesitated slightly, "…maybe 'The Philosophy of Attachment.' I'm not sure I need it, but it would be interesting to hear what they can talk about there."
I said nothing in response to her statement, just went to my bed and sat on its edge.
Catherine turned her head toward me.
"Listen, Arta, I still want us to attend classes together. And yes, I understand that you won't go to 'The Philosophy of Attachment' or breathing practices, but can we go to the other classes together?" she asked in a serious voice.
"If there are courses where you want me to be near—just say. I will try to adjust my schedule."
Catherine frowned slightly, as if not expecting such a quick concession from me.
"And if I say alchemy?" she asked cautiously. "For me, it would be an important and useful lesson, but… what about you?"
My expression did not change.
"If you want us to go together—I will go."
She smiled sweetly at me, expressing her gratitude for my willingness to compromise.
"Thank you, Arta," she continued. "Of what remains, there is also 'Tactics of Magical Duels,' 'Veytra Magic,' 'Elemental Conjugation,' and 'The History of Female Power.'" She sighed. "Personally, I'm not really drawn to that yet. I'm not sure I want to delve into magical anomalies or genealogies, but if I change my mind, there's always a chance to join later."
"If you want to know my opinion, I have not chosen any of that. By the way, from the old, I plan to go to physical education. Join if you want."
"Hmm, yes, I think I need to sign up too," Catherine answered in agreement. "It seems to me that movement helps to stabilize the flow of thoughts, which are often too annoying," she finished ironically.
Closing her notebook, she looked at me, as if checking something in my appearance for her own understanding. She was about to start speaking when a sharp and quiet knock on the door pierced the fleeting silence. Catherine frowned in surprise, stood up from her chair, and a few moments later, the door opened a crack, and from behind it appeared Nova. Her face was tired but composed.
"May I?… I'll just be a minute," she said, entering without waiting for an answer. "I just… couldn't not talk to someone."
Catherine frowned again.
"Wait, but what about Ren?… What happened? I thought you would try to spend time together, at least outside the Academy."
Nova looked at Catherine with well-concealed sadness.
"Perhaps, if not for the prohibitions that Frederik imposed on me, everything would have been different. But the worst part is not that," she sighed slightly and, closing the door behind her, leaned against the wall. "My problem is completely different… Evelina. She… spent all the holidays at the Academy. She says she feels calmer that way," Nova's voice trembled. "And I… I stayed with her. For almost the entire holiday. Because she asked me to stay. Because she… is afraid."
Catherine nodded in understanding.
"Nova, you did the right thing. She trusts you."
Catherine's comment was overly supportive, and I decided to clarify the details of the circumstances with Nova, "Is she worried after that incident at the ball?"
Nova looked first at Catherine, wanting to say something to her, but then shifted her gaze to me.
"Yes, she has guards everywhere now. I don't know how much she trusts them, but at least they are women. I don't think they are interested in Frederik ascending the throne. I feel very sorry for her… But I don't know how I will hold on."
I stood up from the bed and approached the door.
"I do not think her state will change. Until she ascends the throne, the threat will be constant. And I think it will be not only internal, but also external," I replied, remembering CD, who had taken such good root in Sumerenn.
Nova shifted her gaze from me to Catherine, as if seeking confirmation of my words.
"Nova, you know Arta is right," Catherine said calmly. "But if Evelina is calmer with you nearby, then you are already doing more for her than you think."
"Thank you. It's just… I'm tired," she said quietly. "Alright, that's all. I'm leaving now. I'm sorry for the disturbance." She straightened up, opened the door, nodded more to herself than to us, and left without turning back, closing the door tightly behind her.
Catherine remained silent for a little while. Her face still held a trace of anxiety, but not because of Nova—because of something deeper, but still unformed.
"All this…" she went to her desk and ran her fingers over it, as if tracing a line. "It seems that everything is changing. I'm not just talking about the Academy; something is in the air. In people. Maybe even in the country. I don't know if I feel it or if I'm just afraid of change, but it seems that everything has become so fragile."
I looked at her intently before answering, "You should not be afraid of change. Our training… will allow you to adapt easily to new circumstances, whatever they may be."
Catherine smirked, a little bitterly, "That sounds as if change is just a new form of discipline. But you, I suppose, find comfort in that."
"Comfort is meaningless," I paused. "Only strength and the ability to endure matter, so as not to become someone else's pawn on the board."
Catherine looked at me but left my comment unanswered. Perhaps she had drawn her own conclusions from my words, but it was clear that they had not passed her by. In the end, she had to understand that life is not a bright journey; it can also break you if you are weak.