Chương 69: Chapter 68: A Realization

++I have never believed myself a creature unmirrored, there have always been and always will be people like me. I am simply better than the rest of them, is all. ++ - From the writings of Isabel Vornholt, 'The Great Lich'. 1, 891 A. E. This time, Paula did not take years to finally speak to me again. Pragmatism forced her back into conversation only a few hours later.

That did not mean she was at all friendly; indeed, there were probably executioners in the world who would have looked at me with more warmth than she showed. It was quite relieving, many of my social environments had been far too comfortable for my liking.

"When are we scheduled to leave?" she asked me.

"Tomorrow." Paula nodded, took a few moments, seemingly just to think, then spat out her next sentence like it was burning her tongue.

"You can stay with my father overnight, after that…" She trailed off, and I did not bother to guess at what she might have said next. I was confident now that this little tantrum of hers would pass. Things were hardly fun while I waited for that. Paula's father was as welcoming as before, though seemed to instantly know there was something wrong with his daughter. This was not exactly an intellectual feat, I was almost surprised the very bricks in the walls did not notice and tell her to stop moping.

She was so obviously broadcasting displeasure that I could only assume it was performative. And yet, she refused to talk about it. I did appreciate that. Paula was many things, but stupid was not one of them. She of course knew what would happen if word of what we had done here got out; it would be beyond scandalous.

Magician families were certainly of the opinion that they could murder as they pleased, but that did not mean they would hesitate to use a crime like this to undermine someone they deemed politically problematic for themselves.

"So," Mr Paula asked me as we sat down for dinner that evening.

"You're the great Isabel Vornholt." He was one of those idiots who began every conversation by stating some obvious fact, then waiting for the other person to elaborate on it for him.

"I am," I replied, not caring to do his conversational heavy-lifting for him. It was unfortunately just him, myself and Paula, with the rest of the family apparently still busy elsewhere. The man did not take my hint.

"Tell me about that, then," he smiled.

"I've never met a magician other than my Alira, I'm interested to know what it's like from your end." I glanced at Paula, who did not appear to care much what I said, and weighed how annoying this conversation would be if I chose to answer against if I chose not to.

"I do not know," I said at last.

"I have never known anything else." He was silent for a few moments at that, and I enjoyed the peace. Then he ruined it by speaking again.

"How did you and Alira meet, then?" he asked, just as bright.

"We were classmates," I told him.

"We met in an illusion class, and disliked each other at first because she found my youth to be a reminder of how she had been forced to attend the Institute so late in her life." I had found that people often shut up when an awkward topic was touched upon, and usually with such delicious discomfort that I could not help but look up to soak it in now. Paula's father had let his expression fall, and was no longer smiling, but I did not see him flinch away.

"Things happen," he said coolly.

"I won't talk about them now, not with an outsider to my family."

"Okay." I turned back to my meal, and enjoyed the resultant silence. For all of a second.

"Because you're ashamed?" Paula asked at once, her voice slicing through the air like a thrown blade. Oh dear, it seemed my efforts had backfired. I tried to keep my head aimed right at my food and tune the world around me out. It did not work. An edge was brandished in Paula's father's voice"I already said I won't discuss this now," he told her.

"Oh, I know," she shot back.

"But I don't care. You've spent a lot of my life telling me things and not a fucking one of them has done me a lick of good. Are you ashamed about the fact that I'll never be half as powerful as I might have been if you'd agreed to send me to Winzorth when I was first found by those talent scouts?" A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Again, I tried to tune the arguing out, but they were so loud and so close that it punctured my mental defences anyway. What followed was several minutes of the most bitter exchange I had been privy to for quite some time, and by the end Paula just tore herself free of the table and stormed out of the building. I continued eating in silence for a few moments before her father's voice rang out.

"Aren't you going to…follow her?" he asked. I looked up, frowning.

"Should I?" It did not seem to me like anything would come of that, surely if she wanted me present she would have either asked me to accompany her, or remained in my presence. But her father obviously missed my meaning entirely.

"She needs a friend right now, even if…she can't have a father." He seemed to think that sounded poetic or impactful. It did not.

"Fine," I sighed, pushing up to my feet and heading for the door. It was cold outside, which I noted down in the growing list of slights Paula had made against me as I went looking for the woman. Garynford was not a large town, with its only notable feature being the rather large river cutting through its midriff. This was its namesake, and it also boasted a considerably-sized bridge that arched up over it. I headed right for that.

Crying under bridges was a terribly tired trope, but I may as well cross it off the list now. To my utter relief, I did not find her there. Nor did I find her anywhere else that night, and after awkwardly sheltering in her father's home I was greeted by the sight of Paula only early in the next morning when she herself returned. She looked atrocious, hair disheveled and clothes tattered.

I might have suspected she was the victim of some midnight assault, were she not magically powerful enough to make that prospect almost ridiculous.

"We're leaving soon," she announced. Correctly so, our train arrived in only twenty minutes.

"Dad I…fixed your problem. Wick won't be after his debt anymore." The man spluttered for a moment, like his own surprise had solidified in his throat to choke him.

"What… how… Alira, what did you do?!" His worry was short-lived, or rather it was an annoyance for me only for a brief time. Paula turned to head from the house, and I followed after without bothering to bid the man goodbye. The woman and I headed off to leave him in our wake, and did not exchange another word until we were back on the train itself. As it happened, boarding took place in Yir itself. We were given the chance to see the city's reaction to Wick's death. Almost nothing.

The grizzly demise of one gangster and a few of his thugs was apparently not of much concern to wider society. That they had so obviously perished to magic seemed to disincentivise the police from investigating all the more. We reached the station without any incident and… found a second freight train awaiting us. I would have to do something suitably cruel to Professor Varylani when we got back. Boarding was easy, at least, and we once more had some privacy once we were in the vehicle.

I had planned to simply enjoy the silence, but Paula seemed to have other ideas.

"My whole life, I've been told to be good," she breathed.

"My father's always fancied himself a good, honest, humble man. We went to church, we were polite, we didn't swear. When I showed signs of magic I…ignored it, because that didn't fit into his view of goodness, or honesty, or humility." The bitterness was palpable. I found myself listening almost without meaning to.

"When we were at Wick's, I wanted to kill him from the start. But I didn't want to disappoint my dad." Paula's voice cracked, and the words fell off into a sneering laugh.

"Can you believe it? Almost got raped because I didn't want to disappoint someone. Because fighting back against rape isn't normal, or humble. Women just don't do that, do we?"

"I would not know," I told her honestly. Paula actually smiled at that.

"No, you wouldn't. I waited all day to feel guilty about this. I don't. I did nothing wrong, and I only wish I'd done it slower," her words threw spittle onto the air, but I forgave it given the circumstances. Just this once. Paula's gaze sharpened as it turned back fully my way.

"That doesn't mean I forgive what you did, though." I said nothing at that, but Paula somehow managed to draw offence anyway.

"Don't fucking roll your eyes at me!" she snapped.

"You will come around," I told her. She just sighed.

"You know what's different between you and all the nasty old moron men who like telling me that about cooking steak or having children? Nothing. You're just as idiotically certain of yourself as they are, and it's pissing me off."

"The difference is that I know I am right," I explained. Paula stared at me a moment more, looking like she had her own thoughts on my rightness that she was considering sharing. Then she just looked away with a weak smile and a chuckle.

"I have to admit, it's reassuring at least. Seeing a woman like that for once. I feel a lot more certain myself, just knowing you." She frowned.

"Which is weird because you're fourteen. Isn't that weird?"

"Not really," I shrugged.

"Other fourteen year-olds are drooling simpletons. To be quite frank I could barely tolerate you when we first met, eighteen year-olds are not much better." For the first time in almost twenty-four hours, Paula smiled. There was a sadness to it though.

"Is there something wrong with me, that I don't feel…anything, about what I did?"

"No," I said at once.

"You were threatened and defied, and you removed obstacles from your path. There is nothing wrong with that. There is no right or wrong, only true or false, and the powerful get to decide what is true." And if those powerful beings happened to find themselves sharing existence with a lowly human able to surpass them, they had better be ready to fall into step behind it. The train rattled along.

I fought the temptation to continue practicing my magic as I rode it, knowing that, as uninterested as the authorities were in Wick's murder, it was still too great a risk to give any way of telling I had been present around that area as it happened. Instead I simply thought about my next move. Paula had been a diversion. Not one I regretted, but ultimately not terribly beneficial to my plans. I would not indulge another one, not so soon after this detour at least. What I did next would have to forward my ends.

I had a lot of plates spinning though; my experiment in the Winzorth Institute's dungeons was going well, my influence over this new generation of magicians was as strong as anything derived from the teenage sex-drive could be, and there was still the matter of my potential marriage. The Duke of Wolsingham had wanted to wait a few years to meet me, a few years ago. Perhaps I would reach out when I returned…