Chương 69: Chapter 6

The one-hour class ran late as Amaurea bombarded her students with information without mercy. Shaya's head hurt. Her wrist was numb from all of her writing. She wanted to wrap a bandage around her head to make sure it didn't split from all of the knowledge Amaurea had just crammed into it. She needed to get home and collapse into bed. But more than anything, she wanted to sit the professor down and talk to her.

"I want to ask the professor…at least a few questions," Shaya said to her friends.

"Don't feel the need to wait up for me."

"You would." Bri rolled her eyes, but Shaya caught her friend's frustration. Bri was clearly still caught up on Rea's words of warning regarding even angels, shaking her religious friend's beliefs somewhat.

"I have more than a few questions myself," Samorn said, flipping through the pages in her notebook.

"Psht, keeners," Cyren snorted, his notebook practically empty. Shaya expected there to be a line-up to reach the professor, but most of the other students just shambled out of class, whispering about how the foreigner only grew stranger as the semester went on and why should they even listen to her. Others spoke in heated tones at how close she trod to heresy throughout the lecture. A few others rounded out the gossip by complaining about how much homework she assigned.

"Excuse me, Rea?" Shaya said, getting the gangly woman's attention as she placed textbooks into a simple pack not unlike her own.

"A few of us have some questions, if you have some time."

"Ah, if it isn't my favourite inquisitors." Amaurea turned to look Shaya and her friends over, smiling. Shaya didn't think they asked that many questions after class… but then realized she did grill her professors after class rather frequently.

"I'm happy to hear the gears spinning, but I'm afraid I need to run." The professor raised one thin finger.

"You get one question." Shaya flinched. Two whole days without answers seemed like a nightmare. She had way more than one question. By Samorn's similar reaction, she clearly did as well.

"One question each…or?"

"One question total." Shaya screamed internally. She and Samorn flipped open their notebooks and put their heads together as they pointed to their various questions, shaking their heads as they kept digging for one that would grant them the greatest revelations to leverage in the next two days.

"Why did you call angels dangerous?" Bri asked, crossing her arms and looking uncomfortable by her own question. She winced as Shaya and Samorn shot her angry looks.

"What? I'm allowed to be curious too, you know." Amaurea chuckled.

"It's a fair question, and one I may need to address next class before the Inquisition comes knocking on my door. But, in short, true angels are quite inhuman. You can look at the concepts they represent—justice, order, peace, and the like—and think they're harmless, or even desirable. But what you consider to be justice is not the same to an angel. They will go to any extent— any —to enforce their view of justice if they have access to the material world.

"You may see an urchin steal fruit from a stand," Amaurea continued, Shaya suppressing uncomfortable memories of doing what she just described, "and still sympathize with that child because they have a starving sibling or a sick parent. The angel would not. If their letter of the law demands that thieves lose hands so they can never thieve again, then the angel would remove that hand in an instant, without hesitation or consideration for why that urchin chose to steal." Bri winced as she thought about it.

"But surely they can't all be like that? Or that's just an exaggeration?"

"They can be," Amaurea insisted.

"Class Three spirits are single-minded in their devotion to whatever portfolio they call their own. And that's just a minor example. I have heard of outsiders committed to peace slaughtering thousands of people for the greater good."

"But wait, my esper has angelic qualities to it," Shaya said, "but she was a human in life. What does make her?"

"I've already answered two questions," Amaurea threatened, shouldering her bag, "but let's walk and talk and I'll finish this line of questioning." Shaya brought her hands together in the universal gesture of thank you, earning her a chuckle from the professor.

"Like I said, the classes are very general. Your esper is most likely Class One, but has since inherited traits of the religion she revered. Despite the dangers, many religions try to absorb some form of Class Three spirits into the fold. Having seen your esper in action, I'd guess she was Sainted by Astoria, given the iconography and protective affinities." Stolen novel; please report. Shaya nodded. Being a devout Astorian in Kelahk had caused Phaedra no end of grief, despite keeping her beliefs to herself.

I bet it's what Lumir is going through right now, or worse since he's completely foreign…

"Then that makes the most sense." Amaurea nodded.

"Don't worry, you didn't accidentally bond to a Class Three spirit that's going to override your body."

"…They can do that?"" Are you a member of the Inquisition?" Amaurea laughed.

"Yes, they can. If you think the colour influence you experience right now is troublesome, let me assure you that a Class Three's would erode your identity quickly."

"How can you know for certain?" Amaurea snorted, her smile becoming tighter. She raised her left arm, the side of her body covered in jagged, black tattoos.

"Because I've bound one to myself." They walked in stunned silence for a few steps before Shaya managed to whisper, "Why?"

"I was arrogant, and alone. My peers looked down on me for my strange appearance and considered me weak. My teachers were too slow, too cautious in what they wanted to teach me. Being bitter and isolated made my young teenage self very vulnerable to predation by extremists and cults." Suppressing a shiver, Shaya listened on, enraptured and more than a little nervous at what she was hearing described.

"I was easy to induct, my uncontrolled emotions easy to manipulate and mould until I was drawn deeper into their clutches." She shrugged. Bri looked uncomfortable, her next question full of unveiled suspicion.

"How did you survive? Escape?" Amaurea chuckled sadly.

"I got lucky. And that's it. Sometimes skill and training and more just…aren't enough to save you." She raised her right arm, the one covered in swirling white tattoos.

"I became lucid enough to turn on my fellows one day after I realized what I had become. Among those I was about to murder was a priest of my God, Vulkhad. She is a powerful god, and chief amongst Her portfolio is mercy and redemption. They took me in after the battle and, for decades, I did what I could to earn their mercy and find a sense of…balance."

"Did you bind an angel to counter-balance the bound demon?" Samorn asked, still furiously scrawling in her notebook as they walked. She was forced to put it away as they entered the security checkpoint at the entrance of the Wards. The Wardens were always on alert, intent on searching everyone exiting the building as much as they searched people entering it.

Despite the fact that each Mageknight sported at least a diamond amulet marking them as Fifth Circle mages, they looked incredibly uncomfortable around Amaurea, performing the same checks—and more—on her. That's when Shaya realized she had never seen Rea, her wife, or Apricot ever wear a Circle amulet, wondering if only the Arcadian Empire made use of them to mark the power of their mages.

"But Za—Chancellor Zaal said that would just make you even less stable," Shaya said as she was searched.

"How do you deal with those emotions?" Amaurea's responding laughter was more than a little manic, making Shaya's skin crawl. The Wardens each dropped a hand to their weapons, aether filling their eyes. Then the professor gave a shrug of her bony shoulders.

"You'd be surprised at the middle ground you can find between entities that consider themselves diametrically opposed. Especially when one side cares more about the means than the ends.

"But, like I said, I got lucky. It's best to avoid that sort of trouble entirely."

"I have so many more questions now," Shaya sighed, "like how are you casting illusions with Ruby magic?"

"That is the curse of curiosity," Amaurea said, shouldering her pack again as they exited the building.

"But we must part ways. I'll see you all at class in two days, maybe I'll be able to sate your curiosity then."

"Thanks, Rea," Shaya said. They parted ways, and Shaya and her friends walked back towards their home.

"Still like her?" Bri asked, quirking an eyebrow at Shaya.

"Yep," Shaya laughed, turning to her friend.

"I like her. I just hope she doesn't get arrested… or go insane and kill everyone."

"Indeed," Samorn added.

"Her knowledge never fails to impress, but her… uncouth broaching of the Empire's taboo topics worries me." Bri chuckled.

"Good, I'm glad I had all your preferences pegged from the get-go." Her smile wasn't all there though, her thoughts still working away at what Rea had said about angels. Cyren nodded as they walked.

"I remain confused and a little frustrated. So skinny, but something about those tattoos…" Samorn smacked the side of his shoulder.

"She's a married woman, Ren."

"The challenge just makes it more exciting," he replied with a mischievous smile.

"Besides, what makes you think I'd exclude her wife? She is drop dead gorgeous, no confusion about it."

"You're incorrigible," his friend replied, shaking her head, but smiling.

"Oraeus was right, I should have left you behind."

"You'd go crazy without me here," he retorted.

"I'm going crazy with you here."

"Yeah, but it's a good crazy," he insisted.

"Right, ladies?"

"It's weird when you say it," Bri said, elbowing him as they walked.

"And driving us crazy without offering us insane amounts of power seems pretty lame after what we just heard!" Shaya remained quiet as her friends bantered on the walk home, lost in her own thoughts. Too much of what Rea described could have been me—could still be me, if I stray off the right path. But maybe there's something to what she said—what if Tarrak's blood rage behaves similarly to a colour's influence? Is there a way to "feed the beast," sating it, without losing complete control?

I have to ask for her help, Shaya decided. It sounds like she'll understand better than most what I'm grappling with. Shaya's stomach growled, drawing laughs from her friends.

"Hells, Shaya." Bri danced ahead of her and walked backwards for a few steps.

"I see someone's ready for dinner."