Edited by: bafflinghaze
“Will Royce be fine for the performance?” Robyne Peregrine was the first to voice his concern after everyone watched the infirmary staff haul Royce onto a stretcher and carry him out.
Tybalt would have taken him more seriously if he wasn’t currently sipping the glue like it was a bowl of soup.
Fredrick tilted his head like the fool he was, “Why wouldn’t he?”
Everyone in the room shot him a glare.
“Oh…”
“Has anyone seen Odum?” Lady Lettuse appeared out of nowhere suddenly with a clipboard. “He needs to get his measurements taken for the new dress.”
No one answered her. They looked around and found that the boy in question had long disappeared.
Peregrine drank another spoonful of glue. “I saw him leaving with Royce.”
“…”
Lady Lettuse silently wrote something down and made eye contact with Tybalt.
“Tell him if he doesn’t show up for the next fitting, I will put him in the largest hoopskirt the store has to offer.”
A chill went down Tybalt’s spine and he took a step back with a wary smile, knowing she wasn’t someone to be “fucked around with” at the moment, as Finny would say.
“Of course, My Lady.”
—
“How is he?” Tybalt entered the infirmary with Finny trailing behind him.
They saw Royce lying on his stomach with his face propped by a pillow. At his bedside, Naza was prodding his back.
“A little sore and some bruising. Some of his skin was stripped, but it will grow back.”
Royce groaned, “This is what they call waxing gone wrong.”
“Mhm,” Naza agreed distractedly, his mind clearly elsewhere as he stared at the injury.
Tybalt took a peek and grimaced.
“I thought Lady Lettuse said the glue would dry in twenty-four hours?” Surely, Tybalt thought, the glue and paint mixture shouldn’t have bonded to Royce so quickly.
Royce groaned again, this time with annoyance rather than pain, “It’s Fleur De Lis Special Adhesive. Her family made it for setting precious stones into metal. Takes hours to dry on dry surfaces, but the damn thing bonds to anything with water molecules in minutes.”
“Super glue.”
Naza’s statement was of little help. He pressed on an area and Royce yelped.
“I got fucked by superglue!”
Naza stood up immediately. “I’ll go make the cream.”
“Just use the healing serums in the cabinets,” Royce grunted. “The school has a stock of those.”
“…”
A heavy silence pervaded the space.
Royce belatedly realized his mistake.
Tybalt stared at a wall across the room and silently counted in his head.
3… 2… 1…
“Do you use those serums often, Roy?”
The atmosphere felt a tad too warm for Tybalt’s liking.
“Uh…”
Tybalt didn’t make eye contact with the redhead. He found the shade of beige in the infirmary to be utterly fascinating.
Where in the world did the head healer find such a gorgeous wheaten cream color? —
“And you, Finneas?”
Stupid Finny had to make eye contact. “Odum.”
And he had to open his mouth.
“Have all of you been using the healing serums from the infirmary?”
“Fuck no, Uncle would disown me!”
“Neo, this isn’t what it looks like—”
“Naza, can we please—”
“I can’t believe you would do that to yourself.”
Here we go, Tybalt thought, bracing for impact.
“Commercial serums have major defects. Manufacturers don’t take into account the amount of energy spent by individual magic sources, nor do they research the effects that the serums have when being used on flesh wounds. Also, the healing serum pretends to be an all-in-one solution, but really, how is that even possible? They use all kinds of ingredients to close up a wound or suppress a cold, but the makers don’t even think about the drawbacks of all the aspects of healing they want the serums to do. Headache, nausea, dizziness, vomiting, migraines, death, and effects similar to being put under anesthesia…”
One way to get Naza talking with a lot of passion was to mention ‘commercial’ healing serums or anything similar.
Tybalt didn’t know what this ‘annastheeshia’ thing was but knowing Naza and his past life, it most likely had to do with medicine.
Since the revelation of his rebirth and subsequent time travel with Royce, Naza was no longer failing his way into Third Year.
Tybalt called that prioritizing.
Becoming a healer? With Naza’s previous grades and work ethic, it would have been an impossible feat.
Now, they were spending their days like normal teenage boys, studying, practicing their lines, doing homework, and participating in actual, legal, extracurriculars.
No one would ever believe their extracurriculars used to consist of dipping their hands into the criminal underworld and finding ways to get rid of those Naza deemed his enemies—Tybalt still had his contacts, and he was pretty sure Naza, Roy, and Finny also kept theirs in check, despite none of them speaking about the ‘illegal-ness’ of their past activities in the last couple of months.
Had it only been three months since the change?
Tybalt found that strange. He could have sworn it felt longer.
“… we don’t use healing serums.”
Tybalt refocused on Naza.
They all repeated the words back at him, only so he would stop talking about the horrible side effects healing serums would cause their poor teenage growing bodies.
Naza aggressively stirred a liquid mixture over a fire talisman, already halfway finished making the healing cream during his rant. Who knew he could multitask so well?
“Moving on to other things,” Royce’s voice was still colored with pain, “How fucked do you think I am with Rickman?”
“Uncle wants to skin Meyers,” Finneas deadpanned.
Oh, Freddy.
May his death be peaceful.
The Nurse was an active supporting character and was needed at the beginning of the play.
Tybalt felt it essential to mention, “If you’re out of commission, there is no hope for those action scenes Professor Rickman had planned for you.”
“So this how I die,” Royce fully accepted his fate. “It’s been a good three months.”
Naza poured a clear gooey mixture into a bowl. “Roy, you won’t die.”
He casually infused a golden glow of light from the tip of his finger into the clear liquid, turning it pasty and white.
Tybalt was both envious and impressed.
Naza brought the freshly made healing cream over to the bed.
Royce buried his face into his arms. “Be gentle, Doctor.”
“Need I remind you I didn’t complete my residency.”
“But your biography said—” Royce cut himself off with a hiss, “Fuck! You prick! Give a man a warning next time!”
Naza blinked and slapped the cream on a particularly bad spot.
“Bloody hell! Your bedside manners are horrible!”
“I don’t work in hospitals. Stop talking. You are making me anxious.”
Naza wiped the cream on another red area.
“Jesus Christ! Why is it burning?!”
“The pain means it’s working.”
—
“Technically, Freddy would die because he was the one who messed up with the costume.”
They were sitting on the steps to the academy building after they helped Royce into his carriage.
“I thought Frederick transferred to another class?” Neo looked between Finneas and Tybalt.
Was he the only one confused by Frederick’s presence in the production?
“Huh?” For a moment, Tybalt also paused, as if in consideration. Then, he smiled like a cunning fox taking a piss at a poor man’s misfortune, “I thought so, too. He won’t be with us for long.”
“Excuse me?” Did Neo hear that correctly? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Tybalt laughed, “His acting was better.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“Hey!” Finneas scowled.
“Dea tf kjrc’a lggfqijmfjyif,” Ksyjia wjvf j qijmjalcu ufraegf, “Vbggs, Mlccs. Tbeg Vlg Xlivf lr jirb nfgs ubbv… atbeut la mbeiv erf j ilaaif ifrr rkfjglcu…”
“Ca ifjra P’w cba rkbbclcu fnfgs rlcuif oemxlcu ilcf.”
Rfb rajgfv lcab atf vlrajcmf rbifwcis, “P klii ags.”
Tybalt and Finneas saw the red-tipped ears and paused.
Oh.
Tybalt swung an arm over Neo’s shoulder, “Just be passionate, Naza. Feel the lines.”
“Yxjs.”
“Not even feeling the lines is going to do shit. What Odum needs is more practice.”
“Ugjmalmf ja Mlccs’r?”
Dbat tlr mbwqjclbcr ibbxfv ja tlw fzqfmajcais, jr lo kjlalcu obg tlw ab jmmfqa atf cbc-reyaif lcnlajalbc.
However…
“Aurelion wanted to ride home together,” Neo said instead.
A strange expression flickered across their faces.
Finneas placed a hand on his other shoulder, “Odum—”
“Just how long are the three of you going to flirt around?!”
With the nonchalance of someone with too many responsibilities on his shoulders, Neo moved out from under Tybalt’s arm and away from Finneas’ hand, stood up, and greeted his brother as if the boy hadn’t just said what he said.
“Aurelion,” he said calmly.
His brother was surrounded by three other boys, two of which he was familiar with and another, much shorter boy he’d only ever heard from Julius.
Oh?
Neo blinked owlishly. “Your friends?”
—
Aurelion’s lips curled downward as he saw his older brother’s focus centered on his companions.
The earlier irritation he felt from watching Tybalt manhandling his brother came back with a vengeance. Wanting to spend time with his brother using practice as an excuse? They have practice at home. His brother can practice at home with him and Guinivere.
Also, when did his companions become relevant to his brother? His brother never cared about his friends. Gods, now he had to introduce them properly.
“This is Prince Serian and Memphis Deerborn… and Septimus,” he reluctantly gestured.
“Well met,” his brother greeted.
Serian returned it with a blinding smile.
Both Aurelion and Memphis glared at the prince, though for entirely different reasons.
Septimus watched them curiously.
—
In a future timeline from long ago, the Imperial Faction’s entourage within the Academy consisted of the crown prince, the Odum heir, a knight commander’s son, and the apprentice imperial magician known as September Lily.
Both Memphis and Aurelion were the metaphorical sword and quill to Serian’s scepter, while their last member was the shield who guarded the rear with an expansive knowledge of magic.
A year from now, if the trajectory of their fates hadn’t been changed by Neo’s regression, the four boys would have grown into capable and confident young adults, brave enough to challenge him, who was once the villainous and cruel elder brother of their dear friend, and save the commoner boy whose life fell into peril for merely existing in their midst.
—
“Brother sends his regards,” Septimus announced, his voice heavy with a tired lisp.
This was the first time Neo had met him in person.
The boy was usually a recluse. Despite being a student, his attendance rate was worse than Julius’.
The boy had eye bags that even Neo admired and proceeded to yawn as if he were ready for bed.
Slowbie.
Neo thought, his mental animal dictionary already on the forefront.
“Tell him I said hello.” Neo said, and then added after a moment, “Is he attending class this week?” He tried to match the boy’s solemn energy, but a corner of his lips couldn’t help but twitch.
“Half days only,” Septimus mumbled. “Full days next week. He liked the balm you made.”
“I will send him more once he runs out.”
“… ‘Kay.” He swayed a little, almost falling over, and then yawned again.
Someone get this kid a teddy bear. How could Julius’ little brother be so well-behaved?
If only Aurelion wasn’t standing there, he would have offered the kid a knife.
—
Septimus Elysium was like a mini version of Julius, but… more endearing. He wore the First Year Junior uniform, had short blond hair, and was akin to a baby sloth who fell from a tree.
Neo would be downright stupid if he didn’t connect the dots. September Lily was obviously Septimus now that he had a face to match the name.
In the past, Nazareth didn’t deem the apprentice imperial magician relevant enough to bother with, and Julius never mentioned anything about his younger brother associating himself with Aurelion.
The scandal caused if anyone found out an Elysium child joined the Imperial Faction would have damaged the entire Dyad-Ducal system and woven distrust into the fabric of their political climate.
A child from a family who led the Aristocracy Faction since the founding of the Empire, working in the shadows to aid what was essentially their family’s political rival? A disaster in the making.
(Only one person was able to openly betray their family’s political faction with little to no repercussions, but considering he was a crazy bastard, no one cared if Nazareth Odum threw himself into the Aristocracy Faction despite being an Odum. He was the son of a prostitute, a vermilion-eyed Odum. No one dared to say a word about a thing like him.)
The only reason Septimus was never caught for being September Lily was simply because players on all sides of the metaphorical chess board deemed him too vulnerable to risk pushing. Not to break the kid’s little heart, but he was more or less a mascot of the “good side.”
(At the time, no one pointed out the hypocrisy of both Aurelion and Nazareth’s logic when it came to involving kids younger than Guinivere. No one asked, “Were they not children, too?”, simply because it was easier to believe they thought they did something good for once.)
—
Neo spoke with Septimus a little more and was gearing up to speak with Aurelion’s other friends when his little brother gave a weird-sounding cough that sounded like a cross between a wheezing duck and a panting dog.
“They will be meeting us back at the manor.”
There was a strange emphasis somewhere in that sentence, but Neo couldn’t pinpoint what Aurelion was trying to tell him with the way he kept blinking his eyes.
Did his Aurelion think he would say no to such a request? They had plenty of room, and he wasn’t about to force Serian, Septimus, and Memphis to procure another ride.
“They can come with us.”
“…”
What was that look for?
Did he do something wrong?
—
Tybalt and Finneas left shortly after Aurelion and his group arrived, neither wanting to be caught in an awkward crossfire.
Neo saw them off and was now left with a group of teenagers.
“Please accept my deepest gratitude for allowing us to ride with you,” Serian spoke with no hesitation.
The temperature in the area suddenly plummeted for no reason.
Neo blinked, “That is not proper, Your Highness. Just say thank you and be done with it.”
Serian tilted his head and then smiled like a ray of sunshine, “I appreciate the invitation.”
(“Um… Lione..” Memphis trailed off, eyes wide with panic.)
“Much better. You are welcome, Your Highness.”
(Memphis took several steps back as frost started to appear on the ground.)
“Aurelion, you are on the verge of freezing the school gates.”
Neo put his hand on Aurelion’s shoulder and brought him out of whatever idea he was thinking of that warranted the need to freeze the school entrance.
“Oh,” Aurelion’s voice was colder than the Northern Tundra, “I didn’t notice.”
Sapphire eyes narrowed into slits and landed on Serian, the poor kid.
Neo inwardly sighed.
Aurelion’s behavior was normal and valid, he reminded himself.
Being protective of the Crown Prince was an expected reaction.
After the revelation of his death and transmigration, things were bound to be a little strange; and while there was nothing wrong with their new dynamic, Neo knew Aurelion needed time to adjust.
A moment after assessing the Crown Prince, Aurelion tugged at his sleeve with a stoic expression. “Let’s go.”
Neo stared at him, “We need to wait for Guinivere.”
“… She’s coming?”
“Yes.”
“I thought she took a horse today?”
“Father forbade her from riding for a month after she went out to that tournament in the village without notifying anyone last week.”
Aurelion frowned harder if that was even possible.
“Is there something wrong…?”
“… Nothing.”
Neo scrutinized the other suspiciously. “Really?”
Aurelion’s eyes flickered and slipped his hands into his pockets. “She keeps getting in the way and you keep spoiling her and letting her do whatever she wants.”
Neo paused for a moment and stared at him.
Um.
Aurelion was spiraling, he knew. This was an adjustment period after the revelation.
It was only a few nights before when he and his brother cuddled under a blanket in the middle of the hallway after their conversation. They screamed bloody murder when Mother found them at five in the morning because they thought she was a serial killer who broke into the manor.
Truly, nothing screamed bonding more than encountering Vespera Odum’s iconic ax-murderer face in the middle of the night.
The experience significantly closed some of the remaining gaps and awkwardness, overall.
Regardless of this, however…
“As is her right. When have we ever denied her our time and money?”
Aurelion looked properly tongue-tied for a second.
Neo could almost see the loading screen on his face.
But then his brother scowled and grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “She’s monopolizing…”
This confused Neo because Guinivere was terrible at playing Cartel, a board game Royce introduced a few weeks ago into the aristocracy that was suspiciously similar to M0n0p01y.
“Is this about losing the board game last night?” Neo was confused. “You won second after Father.”
He and Guinivere lost during the initial rounds after being robbed blind by their brother and father. Then they sat on the sideline with their mother, who abstained because she didn’t have the patience for board games, and watched their father bankrupt Aurelion until his token ended up on the “Jail” tile.
“That…” Aurelion looked at him like he was stupid. “No, that, that has nothing to do with what I’m saying.”
Amazing job, Doctor. Your brother completely lost all respect for you.
A voice that sounded suspiciously like Clark groused in the back of his head.
“Okay,” Neo responded, because what else could he say?
Aurelion must have blurted out some words he didn’t mean to. They could talk about it later without an audience.
Nevertheless, Neo didn’t want to leave the conversation on an awkward note, so he quietly handed Aurelion an extra knife from his pocket.
“Return it if you want.” He met his brother’s eyes.
… As if he wouldn’t feel a thousand bullets striking him in the head if Aurelion or Guinivere ever actually returned his feeble gifts.
They could talk things out later once Aurelion found the right words.
Aurelion’s eyes narrowed unhappily, but he still stashed the blade into his coat like a crow would with silver.
Yes! He successfully melted the ice cube.
“Oh, cool. I got a knife, too!”
Dammit, Serian.
—
This was the most emotionally constipated conversation he’d ever witnessed, Memphis thought.
Ever since his association with Lione and being one of his few confidants, Nazareth Odum was always the boogeyman haunting their steps.
The few times Memphis saw Nazareth up close could only be counted on one hand, and those moments tended to be due to some hellish scheme the older brother cooked up to torment his younger brother.
Of the more than thirty assassination attempts Memphis knew of, there were some that came close to genuinely killing Lione if not for Memphis, Serian, and Septimus’ interference.
This was in spite of Lione’s stubborn pride and martyr-like viewpoint when it came to Nazareth’s attacks.
Nazareth was a murderer, but no one could prove it.
He was dangerous, but the extent of how dangerous lacked evidence.
His hands were definitely dipped in some unsavory things, but these were baseless accusations at best.
No name, no connections, no people.
His tracks were covered and washed clean, and nothing could be done for Lione’s safety and peace of mind.
Memphis wanted to carry his friend away from the world. Move stars, part seas, and hide away from the heavens.
But Lione was the heir of the Odum Family and had his duties, similar to how Serian was to be the next Emperor, how Septimus was to be the next Imperial Magician, and how Memphis was to be the next Captain of the Golden Lion Division.
They all had responsibilities to shoulder, and adversities to face… it was the reality of their lives, the unchangeable truth.
—But then, one day, Lione told them his brother was a changed man and would not hurt him anymore.
“…”
Yeah, Memphis didn’t take the news very well.
People didn’t change in a few months, especially not people who were known to constantly hurt their loved ones. It would take months and years of growth and assistance from mind healers before they were even allowed to look at the people they harmed.
A dream, or so Nazareth claimed, was not “character development.”
If they were in a book, perhaps… if the writers decided lazy writing was the way to go…
But they were far from fiction.
This was the reality of their lives, the absolute present and inevitability.
Yet…
“You gave him a knife?”
“I did.”
“Oh.”
How was it that Lione and his brother were able to hold such a bland and seemingly pointless exchange now? Within a few months, their underlying conversations were perfectly masked by a few syllables, similar to the way Lione spoke to his sister, Guinivere.
The integration was seamless, the habit ingrained, and their relationship was as if there was never a struggle or poisoning in the first place.
It only took a hundred days for anything to be automatic or expected.
Nazareth played the part of a good older brother and Lione fell into the trap like a fly to honey.
Memphis couldn’t trust Nazareth not to hurt his friend. Lione was hurt so many times before by the games his older brother liked to play.
What if this was another game? How devastated Lione would be if Nazareth was just toying with him—
“The knife was so lovely, Brother Neo.”
…
What the fuck, Serian, read the room!
—
“Brother Neo-what-now?” Memphis was absolutely bewildered.
“Brother?!” Aurelion was absolutely furious.
“Oh,” Neo was absolutely delighted.
He didn’t think Serian would call him so familiarly in front of everyone.
Meanwhile, Serian started to ramble.
“… I oftentimes sleep with it under my pillow, though I haven’t had a chance to use it on anyone. Mother says she will teach me how to fend off would-be assassins with it, but I never encountered an assassin before—whoops… Sorry.”
“It’s alright, Your Highness.” Neo was amused.
He believed he misunderstood the situation completely, but it was too late to do anything now. He already offered Aurelion’s friends a seat in the carriage.
At the moment, he needed to do damage control, seeing as how Aurelion was staring at the Crown Prince of the Empire with a look of murder.
As their father once said, violence was not the answer.
He also said something about blackmail and poison, but that was not important to the life lesson he was teaching them.
Neo didn’t mind the extra kids in the carriage. Serian was cute, and Septimus was a dear. Memphis, from what little interactions he had with the boy in the past, was rather stroppy, and according to Lester, a little hot-headed as well.
Lester, of course, did not explicitly call Memphis hot-headed—he actually called him by several names that could put a street rat in the Western Slums to shame—but the implications were there.
Neo looked at the boy with olive-brown eyes and a hairstyle reminiscent of his own teenage rebellion with interest. The boy was lithe and looked more like he belonged in a Tailor School rather than training for the Golden Lion’s Division.
“Memphis, correct?” Neo addressed him as if they were meeting for the first time.
Technically, this was the first time he properly met Aurlion’s friends, so there was that.
Memphis was obviously less keen about this “proper meeting” and eyed him like a wary fawn.
“Lester speaks of your duels with him,” Neo tried.
The statement resulted in the boy’s posture stiffening. He folded his arms and narrowed his eyes.
“It can’t be anything good, whatever Dartmouth says of me. He is not honorable.”
Neo realized he might have stepped on a landmine with his earlier statement.
Whatever grudge Lester had with Memphis was most certainly not one-sided.
The rivalry between the Dartmouth and Deerborn families mostly stemmed from the Knight Divisions the two families commanded.
Neo couldn’t count how many times Lester trash-talked the Golden Lion Divison and no doubt Memphis did the same with the Silver Ravens. It was a conflict belonging to the two baron families, and whether or not Lester and Memphis would ever resolve it was something they needed to decide for themselves.
It was a similar situation akin to the Odums and Elysiums.
Lester oftentimes criticized but also begrudgingly admired Memphis’ skills, but perhaps the rivalry was not as healthy as Neo initially assumed, judging by Memphis’ hostile reaction.
Shame, he’d hoped talking about a duel with Lester would be something he could open with.
Now Neo needed to do damage control. “He is clever and adaptive.”
The statement was short, but Memphis seemed to have understood the weight of those words. Neo very rarely complimented people for their skills, even more so when he was Nazareth. Those who were worthy of them were either threats to his position, or talents he snatched up for bragging purposes.
After a moment, Memphis snorted and looked away, a tactical retreat knowing he had nothing else to add.
Neo tried not to smile. The kid was cute, too. He reminded him of Lester if Lester had better self-esteem and a bigger ego.
How was it that his little brother made so many adorable friends?
A bunny, a fawn, a slowbie, and an ice cube.
Neo, and the middle-aged part of him that never had children, was simply charmed.
Now if only Aurelion would stop glaring at him…
—
They were walking at a sedated pace toward the carriage when Aurelion broke the silence.
“Brother…”
“Hm?”
“Are you replacing me with Serian?”
Neo was not only caught off guard by such a ridiculous question, but he also wanted to point out that Memphis, Septimus, and Serian were only five paces behind them and could clearly hear them.
His prolonged silence of confusion only made his little brother’s expression turn fierce. It was like walking next to an Arctic iceberg on the verge of implosion.
“How is he better than me? That guy does stupid things like… like hide in bushes when he stumbles into private conversations. That idiot stumbles into private conversations all the time! He makes stupid assumptions and thinks up wild stories in his head and—and when he fights, he abuses the self-defense techniques that his mother taught him for perverts—!”
Neo was impressed by Aurelion’s audacity.
He glanced behind them and saw that his brother’s companions were staring off to the side as if they couldn’t hear a single word.
Was this something Aurelion did often?
He assumed it was Serian who overshared in their group dynamic, but perhaps Aurelion was a second contender, considering how everyone else tuned him out.
“—he’s also super childish and doesn’t know tact. His tutors were fired due to their incompetency—mmph!”
Neo covered his brother’s mouth.
Sapphire eyes blinked at him, wide with stupor and a hint of petulance.
The corner of Neo’s lips quirked up slightly, indicating he wanted to listen more, but preferred if they discussed this in private.
Aurelion furrowed his brows but reluctantly made a noise of assent.
The ice cube finally melted.
Their group eventually made it to the carriage.
Before they could open the door, it popped open, revealing Guinivere sitting regally on one of the seats.
She glowered at them impatiently, as if asking ‘What took them so long?’
Aurelion shuffled closer to him and leveled her with a stare to indicate they were talking and lost track of time.
Neo put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and wordlessly handed their sister another handkerchief to appease her.
Guinivere huffed, pocketed the handkerchief, and scooted over to make room.
(“What the hell…” Memphis said under his breath.
“It’s an Odum thing,” Serian explained as if that made any sense.
Septimus yawned.)
—
Guinivere was not pleased to find out they would be bringing Aurelion’s friends back to the manor.
Her second older brother’s entourage may include the Crown Prince and some other important successors, but they meant nothing to her.
An engagement, you say? Dream on.
Her brothers took a seat beside her and the extras sat on the opposite bench.
Nazareth turned to the carriage driver. “Odum Manor.”
The carriage started to move.
Guinivere stared out the window at the passing tree lines. It was rare for her to be able to go home with her brothers. The three of them had different schedules and extracurriculars, so their timetables didn’t often match up.
Guinivere had only gotten into the same carriage with Nazareth a couple of times if their schedules allowed it.
Going home with Nazareth wasn’t anything exciting. The first time was awkward and mostly filled with silence, but Nazareth was also dressing her wounds from her sword practice and was fully concentrated on her cuts and bruises.
The second time, Guinivere went with him to the little town closest to the manor and accompanied him to their uncles’ apothecary.
She didn’t have huge expectations, but she liked running an errand with Nazareth.
It was simple, her reason for spending time with him. She enjoyed his company.
Similarly, she liked spending time with Aurelion this way as well.
Hence, she was displeased by the presence of Aurelion’s friends, not that she would voice it, of course.
“Flying…”
A small, near-whispered word was said in the silence.
Her brother’s friend, the blonde who was most certainly an Elysium and really shouldn’t be in this carriage with them lest they wish to experience the political consequences of mingling with each other, was looking out of his side of the window.
Guinivere glanced over and saw horses, winged horses. They were flying in the sky.
Aurelion leaned over her to get a better look. “Pegasus?”
“Artificially bred by the Magic Tower,” Nazareth explained, the least excited out of all of them.
Even the Crown Prince and the Deerborn heir were scrambling to see the flying horses.
(“That’s because you didn’t see the flying pigs and the flying hamsters.”)
They watched the herd fly by before they finally settled down.
—
The more Septimus watched, the more he realized how easily Nazareth Odum fitted in with Lione and Guinivere. When all three Odum siblings were together, they formed something untouchable.
The only three Odums of their generation, like rare birds in the wild, so rare in fact, they could be myths.
Their survival and safety were of utmost importance.
It was not like that for Septimus, who was used to a sea of blonde and vermillion-eyed siblings and distant relatives who’d long relinquished their names to escape the Fairy Curse.
Death was inevitable, and in a family that used to have twelve children, they were down to six, with Julius barely able to get out of bed on some days.
It was unfair, but such was life.
Lione didn’t have it any better, at least before his brother decided he wasn’t going to try and kill him anymore.
When Septimus first met Lione, he didn’t see a boy with an icy exterior and a cold gaze that could freeze him whole.
What he saw was a victim of something horrible.
And then he ‘met’ Nazareth Odum, and things became quite clear.
It was evident that Lione desired his older brother’s approval. He always looked forlornly at the elder, his expectations crushed and broken whenever an attempt on his life occurred like clockwork, forcing him to reacknowledge the fact that his own brother was the one pulling the strings.
Septimus could never imagine wanting any of his siblings dead.
How could Lione forgive someone like that? Why would Julius offer friendship to him?
There was something compelling about Nazareth Odum that drew the eyes. His attention was addicting once you had it.
Look at Serian, and look at Lione. Look at the companions who surrounded Nazareth, and his own older brother. Even Memphis kept shooting stares, outwardly frustrated with himself.
Septimus, himself, knew he couldn’t avoid it, either. Not after his interaction with Nazareth. The fondness in those eyes, behind the expressionless face, made him instinctively want to please.
This was dangerous.
He was not about to fight for some kind of “favor” or affection from this person who made Lione’s life miserable for as long as he could remember.
Lione had friends, too. They’ve been there for everything.
Septimus had to watch the fallouts.
The tears, the pain, and the endless frustrations.
Lione confided in them, during those occasional moments when the Odum mask fell.
And now he needed to watch the recovery.
The rain after the fire.
It was unfamiliar, watching his friend be so comfortable with the person who was once so horrible to him.
He thought it was a little unfair, for Lione to forgive so easily, but such was life.
For now, Septimus could only watch and be ready to catch Lione if he were to fall again.
It was his role, after all, as Lione’s friend.
The author has something to say:
Thank you, purple_gravity and _tr1pleabattery for the beautiful fanarts. Please go check them out on the fanart page. The links are on my profile.
purple_gravity
_tr1pleabattery
It is on Odum thing after all.
Thank you for the chapter.
OMG I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE BACK!! ( ॣ•͈૦•͈ ॣ)
So happy that you updated ❤️! This was a great chapter, I love these chiller slice of life chapters. We get to learn so much more about the side characters! This story is so good, i go bonkers over it
Thank you for the food (it sustains me)!
nice you see you again!!! 😁😁😁
Thanks for the chapter! Glad you’re back!
Thank you for the chapter! 🥰
Welcome back 😘
That silent conversation between Neo, Aurelion and Guinivere 🤣
Loved the chapter and glad you’re back. :))
Hehehehe cute~