Author's Notes:
Looks like the last chapter was enjoyable. I'm glad! Now, I've been listening to Butterfly—the original Digimon Adventure's opening—by Koji Wada writing my chapters lately, so it feels like a personal anime OP for this fanfic. I recommend doing the same just for the heck of it.
For the best reading experience, make the fanfic look like a proper e-book; narrow the paragraphs to 3/4, larger the fonts to your preference, turn the background to paper grey mode, and keep your precious baby eyes a safe distance from the screen ;)
The sun has set long ago, and the moon now shines without equal. Cimmerian mists wrap around the hills and forests around the school, creating a perfect veil for those who wish not to be seen.
'On the north of the school, where the forest hides old pathways, lies the dilapidated northern campus. Within it is a fountain of wisdom that could grant a witch with hidden radiance the power she deserves'.
These are the words that Croix spoke, and Chariot makes sure to commit them to memory.
It's now a few hours after their meeting on the bridge. Hoping to fulfil Croix's mission as soon as possible and deliver Conan his book before he leaves the academy tomorrow, Chariot left as soon as she's ready.
Naturally, the urgency of the situation made it impossible to take counsel with Conan first. Chariot figured this is for the best, she fears he'd tell her not to go. But different from him, Chariot worries little—the thought of the reward eclipses any sense of worry.
I can't wait to surprise Conan.
It'll be like a parting gift before he leaves the infirmary tomorrow.
He'll be so happy!
Chariot follows the dirt path until the northern campus building comes into view. It's as dilapidated as Croix said. Time has worked together with nature to conquer the man-made structure; moist moss covers the hard stone walls, roots uproot the deep stone foundations, and animals of various species have taken the abandoned place for their home. Had it not for the pretty moonlight and the excitement in her heart, Chariot might've been discouraged to travel to such a menacing place alone in the dead of night.
A cold night wind blows. Chariot wraps her hooded tunic tighter around her.
I'm glad I changed to something thicker.
Chariot enters the dilapidated campus. Her once muffled steps become resonant as she enters deeper into the more preserved part of the building, where the dirt path is replaced with preserved cobblestone floor. Chariot could see the lost beauty of the place better this far inside. She resists the urge to linger and gawk at the things around her and instead follows Croix's direction faithfully.
Soon she finds herself standing in front of the front door. Time isn't as kind to the door's organic material than to the stones. The door is riddled with weaknesses—rust and moss cling to its hinges and fungi gnaw at the decaying wood. Chariot recoils and covers her nose at the smell—she doesn't know why she even tried to smell them.
Something glints at the corner of her eyes. Nailed to the door is a bronze plate, with etchings of a foreign language. Chariot squints her eyes at it and tilts her head.
It's all Greek to me!
Maybe it's the place's name?
Well, that's a cute name!
Chariot, undeterred by the unintelligible plate, begins checking the door for passage. Unsurprisingly, it's locked. Chariot unsheathes her wand and focuses on the heavy and rusted lock. She's on the edge of casting her spell when hesitation freezes her tongue and hand.
What if I mess up?
Chariot glances around. Then she shrugs.
No one's here—no one's going to yell at me for messing up!
With that confidence fuelling her with strength, Chariot casts her spell. The lock slides open smoothly as if it's just oiled yesterday and hits the floor with a loud ring. Chariot cringes at the uncomfortable noise and makes note not to make the same mistake next time. Not only does the sound of clashing metal grate her ears, but it's definitely not a good idea to make such noise when sneaking around.
Chariot tries the door. She grins in satisfaction as it surrenders to her will.
"Open Sesame Street", she says as she swings the door open.
Chariot sticks her head inside and peers around. Inside is a massive hallway, tall and stretching to the north. The first thing Chariot notices are how stagnant the air inside is compared to outside.
The hallway has the same design as the present campus, though there are some differences here and there, the most striking being the use of sconces and chandeliers instead of lamps. That, and the fact they all have dried up and are thick with cobwebs and dust, tells Chariot of how ancient this abandoned campus is. The windows are very few; very little sunlight, moonlight, or outside wind ever touches these parts, hence the stagnant air and darkness. However, there are a few holes and cracks on the ceiling and walls, allowing some moonlight to spill through like miniature spotlights, illuminating only select parts of the room meagerly. On the far end of the hallway, Chariot could occasionally discern the glint of metal from an elaborately decorated and embossed double door—her destination.
The sight only fans Chariot's flame, and she presses on without any ugly thoughts. The light spilling through the holes on the ceiling are few, but they're enough to guide Chariot's way. They act like breadcrumbs, and Chariot has a wonderful time following them in a straight line. She ventures across uneven stones and rubble, jumping from one to another and sliding here and there. She nearly hums at one point.
Chariot eventually arrives further enough where the holes on the ceiling are much fewer. Seeing her breadcrumbs no more, Chariot takes out her wand a second time and shakes it around in preparation for more spell casting.
"Light spell, light spell, light spell… which one was it?" She asks herself as she shakes her wand—it beats just thinking to herself in such a silence.
Her arm and wand ready, she flicks her wand. Initially, the light sputters as she tries to focus, but in the end, it glows with an even and steady light. The only thing brighter than the light is the beaming kid who cast it, happy at the small victory.
But that enthusiasm isn't meant to last long. Chariot looks up from her wand, and what she sees nearly makes her drop her wand. In front of her, previously hidden by the dark, is a gargantuan and unrecognizable mass of fur and fat. It's definitely something alive, as it's broad chest rises and falls in a rhythmic fashion as it breathes.
Thought-consuming fear fills Chariot to the core. Her legs buckle and her spirit escapes her gaping mouth. Chariot hastily backs away, but her weak legs stumble upon a rebellious pebble. She falls to the floor and nearly loses hold of her precious wand—her only source of light. Chariot bites her lip to stop a terrified yelp from escaping her mouth
The thing in front of her reacts to the commotion! It shuffles in place, but even such minimal movement is enough to send a tremble across the hallway. Chariot's very core shudders along, and for a second she couldn't do anything but stare as if her whole body is rooted to the earth.
The thing shuffles in its place until its face becomes visible to Chariot. Chariot recognizes it immediately as an Ursa, a scarred one at that. Old and deep scars riddle its once beautiful face, and its rough and stiff fur tells Chariot of its ancient age. She realizes it's in a prone position and has its eyes closed; it was sleeping and luckily still is.
Chariot clutches at her chest tightly, trying to calm her drumming heart, fearing the Ursa would hear it. She couldn't even swallow, fearing that too could be heard by the Ursa. Seconds pass before she finally calms down enough to think.
An Ursa! Just like Arcas. Why should I be afraid?
But Chariot knows, deep down, that she's talking nonsense—she has every reason to be afraid. Because whenever she spends time with Arcas, they're always accompanied by harsh criticism from everyone about the Ursa's risks.
Chariot can accept being called ignorant about some things, but she'd argue to the world's end if need be against anyone who calls her ignorant about Arcas and Ursas. All the criticism she received was not for nothing—she didn't ignore them and strives to learn more about Arcas so she can defend him and their friendship. However, while her conclusion from her research helps her defend her friendship with Arcas, they're not helpful nor calming in this present situation. For Ursas are:
Extremely loyal.
Extremely powerful.
Extremely durable.
The best pet you could ever get.
A nightmare to those who try to harm the owner.
Never go against one if it isn't your pet.
Chariot swallows deeply. Behind her, there's rubble large enough to hide under and far enough from the Ursa to offer some distance. Chariot deftly scurries behind it and rests her body on the stone. Chariot's heart kept drumming and her chest kept rising and falling. She holds a hand over her breast to calm her breathing and heart.
What do I do?! What do I do?!
Why is a wild Ursa in this place?
For a long time, fear dominates Chariot's heart and mind, robbing her of the ability to think. But that is soon to change, for Chariot's fire isn't made of common material. When presented with a challenge—be it arguing against a teacher or defying a wild Ursa—retreat is far from being the first thing on her mind.
Croix couldn't do this. She couldn't get past the Ursa.
Normally, knowing someone as good as her failing is a discouraging thing.
But this is an Ursa, and I'm Chariot du Nord—I grew up with an Ursa!
Yes, try and show me any other girl who has an Ursa since she's little!
I'll prove Croix I'm capable, and that my promises aren't hogwash! And I'll win Conan his book!
Chariot sets her jaw and her eyes lit up like points of flame, even brighter than the light from her wand. Chariot's hold on her wand tightens, and she carefully configures her wand's light before setting out from the safety of the cover.
Chariot starts rounding the great beast. It's large, but luckily it's not big enough it blocks the entire hallway. At first, Chariot's eyes are fixed on the Ursa, but a few stumbles and mistakes tell her it's wiser to split her attention to both where she's going and the Ursa.
Carefully selecting her path, Chariot makes sure to make risky and noisy steps only when the great beast exhales so the sound covers her steps (a trick she's learnt from countless times she tried to leave a sleeping Arcas without waking him). Chariot continues with this method until she reaches the Ursa's back, whereupon she could safely brighten her light once again. With one last glance to make sure the beast's still asleep and facing away, she makes for the double door.
Chariot holds her wand tightly with both hands.
Okay, another unlocking spell. Just like last time, no worries.
Chariot holds the wand steady and speaks her spell as quietly as possible. She looks up and relief washes over her as the lock unlocks smoothly.
But then, her face turns white as she realizes her mistake. Relief turns to horror as she sees the door's heavy lock falling from such height.
Seconds pass like an eternity as Chariot's eyes follow it. Chariot springs forward and reaches out in an attempt to catch the lock, but she's a second too late. She could only stare in helpless terror as the lock slips just a hair's breadth away from her fingers. The lock smashes against the floor and breaks in an ear-grating noise.
For a second, everything is still but Chariot's racing heart. But then, a guttural groan breaks the silence, one so deep and heavy it shakes Chariot to the core.
Fear grips her so tightly her neck feels stiff as concrete as she tries to turn around. She witnesses the Ursa's sluggish awakening. At first, it's shambling lethargically to and fro, but the moment it lays eyes on the fear-struck girl, it gains a terrifying and intelligent focus and roars wrathfully.
The roar shakes the whole structure. Broken out of her shocked state, Chariot wastes no more time and rushes through the door, closes it behind her, and leans on it to barricade it.
Wait, what am I doing?!
She springs into a sprint, leaving the idea of barricading the door. She chose the right thing, for a second after she left the Ursa smashes right through the heavy doors with little difficulty, sending dust and pieces of the door all over the place.
The Ursa chases Chariot down a narrow but tall corridor, with abundant light from the windows lining one side of the walls.
What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?!
Chariot's eyes dart rapidly around as she runs. The corridor runs straight, There are no turns or exits in sight—no place to shake off the beast. Her only option is to push forward and hope to outrun the beast. Luckily for Chariot, the narrow corridor proves troublesome for the beast, and it sometimes crashes or scrapes against the walls, sending dust and splinters of stone falling from the ceiling.
Finally, at the end of the corridor, there's a turn. Chariot rounds it and finds a flight of stairs leading to a second floor. She wastes no time climbing it. The effort puts her out of breath, and Chariot has to stop and rest once she reaches the top.
Fortunately, the Ursa seems to fall behind somewhere along the way, giving Chariot time to catch her breath. But she's in no way idle; her eyes never stop searching for opportunities, and now she's rewarded for that.
The stairs.
Chariot thinks it will not hold the Ursa's weight. Her instincts scream at her to continue running once she regains her breath, as far away from the force of terror, but Chariot banishes those fears and forces silence onto her instincts. This is a time to use her head.
The corridor rumbles and groans. The earthshaking gallop of the Ursa sounds louder and louder by the second. It could round the corner any minute now, and Chariot feels bravery and fear building up inside her hand in hand.
I have to make my stand. I have to be brave.
Chariot steadies her breathing and readies her wand. Chariot wishes for focus, but her body says otherwise; one glance at her wand and Chariot realizes how much her hand is trembling, like leaves to a ruthless storm. She bites her lip and holds her wand tightly with both hands in an effort to steady her aim.
I can't fail!
The Ursa finally rounds the corner, crashing onto the wall with its momentum. Seeing Chariot firmly planted, the Ursa ceases its chase and sizes her up. Chariot's crimson eyes meet the beast's beady eyes, its attention solely fixed on the trespasser. The Ursa growls lowly, revealing its fanged mouth thick with saliva. One of its fangs is broken, giving the Ursa a sinister and crooked look, like a sick parody of Arcas. The Ursa's clawed paw takes one step forward, then another, then another, until it suddenly springs into a gallop.
In the face of danger—when fear grips man the most—Chariot's courage shines like the sun. Flame-like courage surges through Chariot, banishing all doubts and steadying her hands. As the Ursa roars savagely, Chariot matches it with a defiant roar of her own and swings her wand with mighty precision.
"Difranieado!"
Chariot hurls her spell at the stairs just as the Ursa sets foot on it and it bursts in an explosion of light and heat. The shockwave sends shrapnel and dust scattering high and far, and the wind knocks Chariot's hat off her head. Chariot braces by covering her eyes and ears.
Chariot uncovers her eyes and looks at the scene of destruction. The impact of the spell and the Ursa's weight completely obliterates the stairs. The ravenous beast now lies writhing on the floor, its belly exposed, shocked and stunned.
Chariot pumps her fists and cheers silently.
I can't believe I did that! Stood my ground and perfect casting.
Why isn't anyone around to see it when I succeed?
Without celebrating too long, she turns and continues running. To where she doesn't know, but anywhere is better than being close to the Ursa. Who knows it might sprout magical wings and climb to the second level that way?
Chariot only hesitates and turns around to grab her fallen hat.
Miss Finnelan's going to kill me if I lost this.
She couldn't BEAR seeing me not in uniform!
There's nothing else further down this second floor. Everywhere is a dead-end—no stairs to go down to, no window low enough to climb down from, and nowhere to go. The only passage it offers is a stairway leading to the wide and far-reaching flat roofs of the campus, but it offers nowhere else to go as well. The only good news this brings is that the stairs Chariot broke was the only way in and out this level, and the Ursa was denied it.
Fearing her magic will run out with all the light she's using, Chariot opts to climb into the roof where the moonlight offers enough light to see. Once there, she lies on her back on the flat roof of the campus. She shuffles numerous times, but she can't manage to find a comfortable spot on this cold hard floor. In the end, she takes off her hooded tunic—sacrificing a bit of warmth—to make it into a makeshift pillow. She sheathes her wand and rests it on her stomach. Chariot now stares at the night sky in its endless expanse. The stars above her are the only companions she could get.
The stars are pretty tonight.
If only they're this pretty on those times I actually have time to observe them.
An idle mind is prone to overthink, and as Chariot's adrenaline leaves her, she loses her one defence against the regrets that's been threatening to attack. They'd been waiting for her to let her guard down to gnaw at her conscious like hungry wolves to an abandoned calf.
Chariot irritably plucks at her hair and thrashes her feet around.
I'm so stupid! I messed up! I messed up! I messed up!
I should've known the lock would fall! It happened earlier but I didn't remember!
Why didn't I remember? Why can't I get it right for once?!
Tired from her thrashing, Chariot stops and spreads her arms beside her. Her brows tighten to a frown, and her lips thin to a crooked line. Next, fear descends on the girl like cold rain and mixes with the regret that is still fresh on her mind, creating a toxic mixture of sorrow.
What do I do? How am I going to get past the bear and get to the arch?
Am I stuck here? I'll run out of time if I stay too long.
Chariot' hold on her wand tightens suddenly.
No. Why am I still thinking about that?
I nearly got mauled by an oversized bear and the Big Dipper thing is all I care about?
Stop thinking about that!
As her heart turns to a battlefield, Chariot starts to squirm and writhe on the floor. She shuffles to and fro, until, tired again, she turns and rests on her side with a hand resting just across her face.
Chariot looks at it. Her comely hands are riddled with callouses and scratches, both old and new. Seeing them reminds Chariot of all the stories behind them. They're diverse, but they're all the same in that they're a product of her stubbornness, and tonight left a mark of its own near the base of her palm, which she gained when she tripped and fell somewhere in her run. Chariot finds herself reflecting on her stubbornness that gave her this particular scar.
Why am I stubborn? Because I don't want to disappoint.
I've disappointed a lot of people lately, and they're right to be angry.
I've messed up a lot of times, and it's fair that they don't like me for it.
Everywhere I go, they always remind me of the bad things I did.
That's why Conan and Croix are such a breath of fresh air.
When everyone already knows me and hates me, Conan is like a blank slate where I can start fresh.
And I love everything we've been doing so far.
Sure we annoy one another at times, but I can tell we like each other's company.
When was the last time I could say that about someone?
And Croix… I like Croix.
She's different from Conan since she knows about me.
But that moment on the bridge, the way she was being upfront about me being untrustworthy, already sets her apart from others.
Sure, it hurt me to death hearing her opinion about me, but she's so honest and upfront about it.
She's not like other girls who'd rather say mean things behind my back.
I hate talking behind someone's back, and hate it even more when others do that to me… that's why I like Croix.
She's rough around the edges, but I see something good in her.
Chariot brushes the fresh scratch with a calloused finger. She chews at her lip.
The reason I went out here alone in the dead of night; the reason I dared to continue even after meeting the Ursa; and the reason I fought and ran with all my might, they're all for the same reason. I did it for those two.
I don't want to throw this chance at a new start—I'm not going to disappoint them like I did everyone else.
The stars' light seems blurry all of a sudden. Chariot blinks repeatedly and finds hot tears rolling down her cheeks and wetting her makeshift pillow. She clumsily dries them with the sleeves of her shirt.
Silly girl. Look at what you've done. You're crying again!
Chariot wishes she could just crawl into a hole and spend the rest of the night there, but fate wouldn't have her wallow in sorrow for too long, for soon an interruption came in the form of a nearly unnoticeable tremor.
Heart-wrenching sorrow robbed Chariot of her senses, so she thought she imagined the tremor at first. But the second time it came, she's sure she felt it. The roof is shaking beneath her.
Now fear threatens to eclipse her sorrow. It fills her senses with alertness.
Chariot quickly sits up and looks around. She hastily brushes the last vestiges of her tears away and brings herself back in focus.
She glances at the stairs that led her here, thinking the Ursa somehow found a way through there. Nothing there.
She plants the palm of her hand on the floor.
Tremors… then, she plants her ears there. Something rumbling… far below? Sounds like stone and wood breaking and groaning, as if something is thrashing against them.
It's… getting louder and louder.
Her face turns as white as the stone floor when she realizes what's going on.
The Ursa—
Chario swiftly stands to her feet, alert and wand prepared. But nothing could've prepared her for what comes next.
A distant part of the roof erupts in a shower of stone and dust, shaking the whole structure. It knocks Chariot off her feet and her wand clatters across the floor. The dust cloud climbs high, forming a cloud of dust that eclipses the moonlight, casting a tall shadow. Two orbs of light glow underneath the cloud of dust and a guttural growl emanate from it. The Ursa. It's found Chariot in her most unprepared state
The Ursa stalks forward with a look like nightfall, its crooked fangs bared sinisterly and its nose flaring. Unable to tear her eyes away from the dreadful beast, Chariot searches the floor for her wand blindly to no avail. Growing desperate, any thoughts of fighting leaves the helpless girl and she tries to run away. But Chariot's legs keep buckling beneath her, so she scrambles backwards instead. Her face white with fear she couldn't even scream nor close her gaping mouth.
Chariot eventually gathers herself and tries to stand up, but she accidentally steps on her lost wand, sending her sprawling on the floor. She desperately tries to get up and run, but the Ursa waits for no one and descends on the hapless girl like a demon.
Her mind blank, Chariot could only cry out for help and cover herself with her hands.
So loudly she screamed, Chariot almost failed to hear the sharp whistle coming from the air, like something fast approaching. She opens her eyes to see a lone hooded broom rider racing towards her. Like a swooping gull, the hooded broom rider drifts to a stop right between the panicked girl and the charging beast. The rider plants themself firmly and brandishes their wand defiantly at the beast.
"Crescunt!"
A great flash of fiery light erupts from the tip of the wand, lighting the night like the dawn sun. The eruption unfurls the rider's hood, revealing messy and thick lavender hair.
C-Croix!
The attack blinds the Ursa, doing very little damage but greatly scaring it that it stops from its onslaught. Croix made a quick judgement before she cast her spell and knew immediately that pain would only fuel the fire that is the beast's rage, and opted for the harmless spell.
Croix turns to Chariot with a look as demonic as the Ursa's.
"Idiot!" She cries out.
Confusion, gratitude, and surprise mix uncontrollably within Chariot that she couldn't begin to articulate her feelings. She could only cling to Croix's hand tightly and stare at her with wide eyes.
Seeing Chariot too shocked and dazed to do anything, Croix takes Chariot's hand and drags her away from the Ursa. Once they gather enough distance from the Ursa, Croix stops and hurriedly mounts her broom, with Chariot following suit.
"It won't reach us even in a gallop, but we can't waste time. On my command, fly!" Croix growls.
The beast growls in protest and hastily recovers from the shock. Its noses flare, and its eyes are set with a new hatred towards the interloper. But instead of springing into a gallop as Croix predicted, the Ursa stays put.
Slowly, the Ursa rears up on its hind legs, and the height it reaches eclipses the moon behind it, stretching its shadow far that it covers the girls. Both girls stare in horror and awe at the true size of the beast. Dread rises in Croix's heart as she's shown her error for underestimating the beast's intelligence.
With a mountainous roar, the Ursa slams its front legs onto the roof and the entire structure quakes with wrath. Croix and Chariot's hesitance proves fatal, as now the roof crumbles beneath their feet and makes treacherous footing.
"Now!" Croix cries out. She kicks off the crumbling roof. "Tia Freyre!"
Chariot, stunned and terrified, was late to the timing. She kicks a second too soon and bleats her spell a second too late.
"T-Tia Freyre!"
What results is a failed take-off. It sends them sprawling to the ground with the broom beneath them. But before Croix could even vent her frustration, the roof collapses beneath them and they slip and fall into the abyss-like darkness beneath them.
Chariot's piercing scream is only overshadowed by the groans of the collapsing stone and wood. As all thoughts escape her panicked mind, Chariot fails to notice a sudden glint in the night sky, like a flickering star.
Or, a spell being cast.
"Paleis Capama!"
A protective bubble suddenly wraps around the two girls. Anything else—stone rubble and wooden supports—fall to the mercy of gravity. Stone and wood crash onto the ground, shaking the earth repeatedly and deafeningly like a rhythmic beat of a war drum.
Among the two, Croix is the first to calm down. Her breathing is ragged like she just ran for days. She runs her hand all across her body, checking them thoroughly for injuries, before briefly glancing at the equally surprised Chariot. Croix recognizes this spell that saved them. She looks up to their saviour with a wary heart.
The woman who saved them has an urgent look on her face, but accompanying (and eclipsing it) is a black look that she often has when she's dealing with Chariot.
Snapping out of her soul-wrenching shock, Chariot follows Croix's eyes and swallows once she recognizes their saviour.
Chariot groans in morose. "Miss Finnelan…"
Once Miss Finnelan has calmed the beast (who'd watched the whole thing unfolding on the part of the roof it left intact) and sent it back to its sleep, she returns to the girls she safely landed just in front of the dilapidated campus' front door.
Croix was waiting patiently with her back against the wall while Chariot—too tired to even stand—was sitting on the floor when the teacher returned with a look as black as the Ursa's. The teacher finds them stuck in awkward silence. Without a word spoken to one another, the two girls quickly gather themselves in an orderly fashion in front of the irate teacher.
Folding her arms in front of her, Miss Finnelan begins by eyeing each with equal scrutiny.
"So, which one of you is going to explain first?"
Tension is thick in the air like a brewing storm. Chariot's eyes dart between the teacher and Croix, the latter which refuses to meet her eyes. Though Chariot prefers the more experienced senior to answer first, she realizes that will not happen.
Chariot's eyes fall to her feet. Her nails dig deep beneath her sleeves, and her teeth leave white marks on her lip. The grasses beneath her shoes begin to grow blurry, and she realizes she's on the verge of tears. Through ragged breath, Chariot pushes herself to speak.
"I-I asked the headmistress for the k-key to the archive but she wouldn't allow me. So I asked Croix if she could lend me the key. S-she told me she would if I fetch her something from the northern campus!"
The news came as a shock to the teacher. She looks to Croix.
"Is this true, Croix?" disbelief is clear in her voice.
The reclusive prodigy meets Miss Finnelan's eyes unflinchingly. Without wait nor stammering like Chariot, Croix answers quickly and calmly—as if she's recited her answer over and over again.
"Not exactly. I said I would give her the key if she finished my request, but I lied—I never intended to give it to her. I know I'm forbidden to share the key to someone unauthorized by school officials. I lied to her only to make her stop bothering me about the key".
Both teacher and student are surprised by Croix's answer.
Chariot stares at Croix with wide eyes, but she still refuses to even glance at her. At first, Chariot thought she heard wrong, or that Croix made a mistake in her answer, but soon it became clear to her: Croix is trying to save her own skin at the cost of Chariot's own.
The betrayal breaks Chariot's heart to pieces. Chariot's sure it shows in her face, as that might explain why Croix refuses to even glance at her.
Realizing the danger she's now in, Chariot's eyes anxiously dart between Croix and Miss Finnelan. She feels cornered, abandoned, forsaken. She couldn't bring herself to protest against either of them knowing the odds are very much against her now that she's all alone.
But Chariot wasn't the only one concerned by Croix's answer. Miss Finnelan doesn't take Croix's excuse easily and scrutinizes the prodigy cautiously.
She warns Croix grimly, "That's careless of you, Croix".
But Croix is quick with her rebuke, giving Chariot the impression she's prepared for this.
"Before you accuse me of endangering a fellow student, anyone should know what's inside these ruins. Anyone sane would've tuck tails and turn around when they meet the beast, which need I remind you is very hard to miss with its size. Any sane student would've retreated the moment it's angered instead of push forth. Miss Finnelan, I expected this to be what'll happen, but as we can see, I underestimated Chariot's stupidity. The task I gave her was never meant to be finished—it's meant to discourage Chariot. You'd understand how annoying Chariot can be when she wants something. I had to say something to make her go away".
Croix's answer revolted Miss Finnelan. Miss Finnelan looks at Croix with a stern black look.
"Just because there's no rule forbidding you from lying to another student, don't think I'll not hold you accountable for this. Chariot could've been injured tonight, or worse! If I have a full say on this, I'll hold you fully responsible immediately".
The teacher's face loses its tense contours and her voice calms.
"But, since we're a civilized school with rules and procedures, we'll have to wait and hear what the others and the headmistress thinks. Though I wouldn't put my hopes high if I were you".
Chariot feels elated that Miss Finnelan is somewhat considerate of Chariot's position.
The moment Croix realizes her scheme is failing, she stops trying to hide her contempt from showing. Her calm eyes turn to a glare at the teacher, and she clicks her tongue indignantly. But Miss Finnelan is not amused, nor does she look surprised. Chariot notes this might not be the first time these two are at odds.
Shaking her head, Miss Finnelan says,
"But whatever charge you'll receive, abuse of the school's trust by handing out the key willy-nilly won't be one of them. You shouldn't be proud when I say this, but I believe you when you claim you meant to lie and trick another student cruelly".
Croix's face ripples between frustration and relief. It's easy to tell she could argue all day, but she soon sees the risk of worsening her already treacherous situation. Thus she keeps her emotions in check and nods.
With that done, Miss Finnelan directs her attention back to Chariot.
"So that leaves you. The rules you broke are many tonight, but for now, I'm willing to look past all of them but one. I can't ignore your motivation. Mind telling me what business does one Chariot du Nord have with the secret archives, the place where our most valued relics are hidden at?"
"I just needed a book that's only found in there, that's all. I tried the town and the library already, but found nothing there".
Miss Finnelan's brows arch in surprise. "A book?"
Chariot's answer piques Croix's attention as well that she shoots her an attentive glance—the first in the night.
I didn't tell Croix what I was looking for as well, did I?
This will be the first time anyone will know about what I'm looking for.
"Yeah, miss, a book", continues Chariot. "I needed it because…"
Chariot's lips thin to a line as she ponders her answer. She's going to put herself in unimaginable trouble if she told the truth that she's planning to hand the book to someone outside the school. If Croix was standing on thin ice, Chariot is now on a sheet of ice.
Whatever you do, don't mention Conan!
But what do I say, then?
Time doesn't wait for Chariot; it's heavy hand swings to and fro against her favour. The longer Chariot stalls, the more suspicion she'd gather. But her mind is blank and exhausted, bereft of any ideas.
"I'm just… curious about it. I've been wanting to study and the book has something I need".
Unamused, Miss Finnelan raises a brow inquisitively and rests a hand on her hip. "Do you now? There's nothing but old books in the archive, I expected you to want something more entertaining than old dusty tomes. And you searched far and wide? Hard to believe you have such enthusiasm for a book. Come now, spit out the truth, what were you really looking for".
"I'm telling the truth".
"The truth? Yes, I remember you saying that some time ago. You asked to borrow a book from the library, telling us it's for studying. But in reality, you only used it to entertain yourself with its light spells meant for children of all things! I thought we already warned you against using magic for such fruitless endeavours, but here we are, with you still stubborn and caught red-handed trying to reach into a bigger cookie jar. The books in the secret archive are treasures both figuratively and literally, it'd be a disgrace to use them for meaningless spells!"
Chariot is okay with Miss Finnelan faulting her for her usual mistakes. But there's a place where Chariot draws a firm line, and the teacher just callously crossed that, no less in front of another person.
Chariot's face flushes red with frustration and a single tear pools at the corner of her eye, blurring her view. She balls her fists and rebukes, "I'm serious! You had to bring that up, didn't you? Why can't you believe me for once?!"
Miss Finnelan doesn't like Chariot talking back at all. An ugly scowl descends on her face. Chariot is only making the situation worse, but soul-devouring anger claims Chariot, robbing her of the gift of foresight.
The two are about to come to grips, and Croix notices this warily. Things would've gotten unimaginably worse had Croix not decided to step in.
"You've been demanding Chariot to improve herself, but you choose to be cynical when she tries to find a way to study?"
This surprises both Chariot and Miss Finnelan. The two turn to Croix to find the reclusive prodigy staring calmly and unwaveringly at the teacher.
Miss Finnelan blinks a few times, surprised by Croix's boldness and the soundness of her argument, while sweat trickles down Chariot's temple as she waits for the teacher's verdict.
Only seconds pass, but it feels like an eternity.
Breaking out of her thought, Miss Finnelan nods.
"Hm, good point".
Miss Finnelan doesn't seem to dislike being proven wrong on this. Indeed, this must've come as a pleasant surprise, seeing Croix—someone very hard to cooperate with—putting effort to stand up to some stranger. This fact isn't overlooked by Chariot, who now stares at Croix in a new light.
Miss Finnelan turns away from the girls and takes her broom that she rested on the wall.
"Well now, I think it's getting late. We should continue this inquiry tomorrow. For tonight, both of you should have your fill of warm dinner, bath, and a good rest. Tomorrow we'll continue this inquiry with the headmistress once we've all calmed down.
Chariot exhales a breath she didn't know she's holding.
Dinner and bath sound like heaven.
Being the only one without a broom, Chariot is forced to join Croix's broom on their way back to the campus. The professor leads a bit further off and makes no effort to hold any conversation. What results is very awkward silence between Chariot and Croix, who finds no way to distance themselves from one another despite the discomfort they both share.
But Chariot's silence was not for nothing—she used the opportunity to think about everything that happened. Once she finds her conclusion, she breaks the silence with a soft whisper.
"Thank you".
Croix refuses to turn as she replies.
"For what?"
"For saving me from the Ursa… but honestly, for sticking up to me".
But Croix bitterly rejects Chariot's gratitude and protests her with words that flew.
"Did you hit your head and forget everything else I did? Let's make it clear in case it didn't go through your thick skull earlier so that you don't get the wrong idea about me. I didn't lie to Miss Finnelan—I never intended to give you the key. I only told you otherwise because I wanted you to go away. I gave you a ridiculous request like that thinking you'll change your mind and turn back once you realize how impossible it is. I didn't calculate how stupid you're going to act".
But the reclusive prodigy miscalculated Chariot's mettle; she thought harsh words would work, but Chariot's been through so much tonight they barely give her a scratch.
"You're right, I do hate how you lied to me about the key. But I don't resent you for my misfortune with the Ursa. You said it yourself: you never intended me to go further past the Ursa. I put myself in danger willingly when I saw the Ursa and chose to not turn around and continue instead".
Chariot's answer hangs heavy in the air like a cloud that refuses to leave Croix no matter how fast she flies or how strong the wind blows. Like a spell, it puts Croix in a speechless state. Croix refuses to turn, hiding her lips that begin to thin.
"What are you trying to say, Chariot?"
"I'm trying to say I'm willing to forgive you".
"Why?"
Croix's question makes Chariot reminisce about the good things she sees in Croix; that moment of upfront honesty on the bridge and how she stuck up to her earlier.
"I… don't know. I just feel like I'm starting to know you a bit better, and I think you're not that bad of a person. That's why I said thank you, and why I'm willing to forgive you".
"You're willing to do those because after all I did, I stuck up to you once in the end?" Croix asks, voice tremulous and deep with bitterness. "That doesn't make any sense, Chariot! It doesn't work like that. That's nothing compared to everything else I did".
Croix's answer surprises Chariot; she never heard Croix speak like this before. Croix often sounds detached and monotonous, rarely putting any heart behind her words. But this time, her bitter feelings are behind every syllable. Croix truly believes in her own words, that she's unfit for Chariot's forgiveness.
Chariot frowns.
Why… Why is she trying so hard to reject me? I'm trying to forgive her. Shouldn't she be happy? This doesn't make any sense!
Or… is Croix right: am I the one not making sense?
Chariot reflects on her feelings towards Croix. Chariot is willing to forgive Croix because Chariot believes she's a good person. But Chariot is slowly realizing that could be a naive and outdated belief.
Indeed, the Croix in front of Chariot now is like a twisted parody of the one Chariot had in mind back on the roof—back before her lies are revealed. The Croix Chariot imagined then was mean and unpleasant but honest and genuine in her own way. This Croix in front of her now is a liar, a trickster, cruel and ingenuine. But the latter is the reality, and like it or not, Croix presently did more harm than good to Chariot. Her honesty on the bridge might be genuine, but as Croix said, it's but a minority, a bug in the system.
Was the Croix I imagined on the roof an overly idealized view of her?
Am I tricking myself by believing she's still a good person like I imagined her?
Maybe Croix has a point, maybe I am delusional for stubbornly believing she's a good person.
So, which one of us is right? Am I wrong for believing Croix is a good person and thus willing to forgive her, or is it Croix that's wrong for thinking she's irredeemable and thus unforgivable?
Chariot chews her lip and clutches her chest with one hand tightly. The dilemma pains her like a physical wound. Chariot never liked thinking bad of others. To her, bearing ill thoughts of people feels the same as having poison coursing through her blood; they dull her senses and prevents her from seeing reason.
People judge her refusal to be suspicious of anyone as nothing more than naivety. But Chariot never heeds those people, nor will she start heeding them now. Chariot feels it's a gift that lets her see the best in people and prevents her from seeing their worst.
Coming to terms with her feelings, a new light comes to Chariot's eyes.
I believe I'm right. I believe you're a good person, Croix.
You're in no way innocent, but I'm willing to forgive you because I don't want us to part; I want to stick around you and find out which one of us is right.
I'm going to prove that you're wrong and I'm right—that you're a good person and one worth forgiving!
Learning from Miss Finnelan, Chariot shows an uncharacteristic amount of wisdom and judged it pointless to argue this philosophy of hers against Croix now when they're both tired and worked up from all that happened, lest they'd argue till the sun rises from the West. So Chariot is content to keep this to herself. The day will come when both of them are ready to talk about this in earnest, and Chariot feels an uncharacteristic patience for that day.
So Chariot retires from the argument, answering with a meek smile and forced shrug.
"Well, I am a freshman, after all. We tend to be naive".
And so, with Chariot coming to terms with her feelings, the rest of the flight is spent in silence. Exhaustion robs Chariot of any foresight of the next day (where she'll be held accountable for tonight), so her focus blissfully falls on the good things that await them once they arrive at school.
I can't wait for a warm bath, my body's yearning for it. And it's dinner after that. Creamy mushroom and chicken soup tonight, isn't it? Ah… that's so dreamy. I can't wait!
The thought warms Chariot inside and shelters her from the howling wind.
Author's Notes:
Important Announcement! What's your favourite scene in this entire fanfic that you'd want to see drawn? I've been thinking of drawing some scenes, but have no idea where to start. You can review to say which one you want to be drawn. The one with the biggest vote wins my decision (maybe). Or tell me directly on Twitter as AccurateSpino
Alright, back on the chapter. There's a lot I want to talk about. So if that bores you, listen to an anime ending song so it feels like this is the end credits. I recommend The Devil Is a Part Timer's first ending because that feels like it fits this arc.
Let's begin. Well, let me tell you, this chapter was both easy and difficult to write. The easy part comes from the fact I've prepared the skeleton for a while now. The difficult part is only some scenes, chiefly from the moment Miss Finnelan comes in the picture till the chapter ends. Writing Croix and Chariot's argument was damn hard! So I'd like to know if I made both characters' points (which by extension, my point as well) clear.
I really enjoy writing this chapter. It's fun playing around the idea that Akko's journey is a parallel to Chariot. A lot of similarities, so I have a baseline of what to work with. And if you're perceptive, you'd notice a few continuities and similarities between this chapter and the fountain of Polaris episode. The destroyed stairs on Akko's time, Miss Finnelan's method of saving Chariot and Croix, and even the small scenes, like when the troubled Chariot is stuck on the roof and stares at the sky with her wand on her stomach (a parallel to Akko doing the same with the Shiny Rod on the broom flight tower before she revisits the fountain before the Moonlit Witch festival). And if you're wondering, Difranieado and Paleis Capama are actual spells from the show, the former the one Chariot uses to escape Croix's pixel construct and the latter the one Ursula uses to save Akko, Andrew, and Arcas.
After the next chapter is done, I'm planning to continue my rewrite (since now this original won't stop in a cliffhanger)
Now a bit about the perspective and side characters. Muset once told me he enjoyed my approach to third-person and its ability to smoothly shift the perspective to someone other than the OC MC and give them the spotlight. I feel that in this chapter. Three characters without the OC in sight, but still a very interesting interaction. It makes them feel like actual characters instead of background characters that only exist for the OC to interact with. It gives them agency and shows the reader the world still runs even if the OC isn't there to see it, adding depth and realness to the world.
Then about Chariot. Chariot's love for illusion magic is a big part of her character, so it might be a wonder to most of you why I've been very sparingly mentioned that. Well, I like giving breadcrumbs first. This is pretty much the first chapter it's ever mentioned explicitly. And I make sure to make it meaningful while not giving away too much.
Finally, apparently some words I use confuse some of you. They're mostly sayings that non-English speakers would have a hard time translating it literally. I remember, among them, are:
"Let's get this bread", basically meaning "let's do this" or "let's get to work (and make profits)"
"All is fair in love and war", basically meaning "any method, be it fair or unfair, is viable in both love and war"
There are others that I think is difficult to understand but no one's yet to answer. They are words and sentences I borrow from my time reading the Iliad and the Odyssey:
"Come to grips", means when two entities come into a decisive clash.
"With words that flew", means when accusations and insults that are exchanged heatedly and swiftly.
Let me know if anything does confuse you. You might not be alone.
Don't forget to review! I really enjoy how the last chapter got a lot. Tell me what you think about this one as well!