Half Moon Rising

by ninjamouse1

There's a fine line between human and fiend and when Class VII is formed with ten members instead of nine that line will stretch to breaking point. When an experimental project is already blurring the lines between commoner and nobility, magical and mundane, one more chaotic element couldn't possibly hurt. What does it mean to be human? And is it worth trying to understand?

4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

History class with Instructor Thomas had an unfortunate reputation of being terribly dull even on the best day. It turns out all he needed to spice up his lessons was to be foolish enough to ask Evander a serious question. After a truly soporific lecture on the War of the Lions, Instructor Thomas called on Evander to tell the class where Emperor Dreichels first began raising his army. Evander was silent for a long moment, massaging his temples and staring intently at the ceiling as though the answer was scrawled on there.

"Wait a minute," he said finally, "I need to think. I can't think. I'm having a schizoid embolism."

"Hmm," said Instructor Thomas, "I don't believe I've ever heard of a schizoid embolism."

"Let me guess," said Machias, "It's when all your split personalities have a headache at the same time. Can we move on Instructor? This is clearly a waste of time."

"Aha! I've got it! Roer!"

"Roer? No I'm afraid not."

"No? Damn it!" Evander slammed a fist down on the table. "This is stupid! I don't even know who this Dreichels bloke is! Why are we even talking about him?" There was a long, tremulous silence following his outburst where you could have heard a pin drop. No one was quite sure if someone could really be that oblivious. "Oh wait. I know who he is, I remember," there was a collective sigh of relief. Who knew what kind of terrifying dull and endless lecture Thomas would unleash if he though Evander seriously hadn't even heard of the The Lion Emperor. "Isn't he the guy who sells turnips over at the Grand Market in Celdic?" That relief was immediately destroyed, followed by startled laughter from more than half the class. "What's so damn funny? How am I supposed to know the guy!? I don't get out much okay!"

"I'm afraid it wouldn't help if you did get out more. He's been dead for more than a century," supplied Instructor Thomas.

"Then why on earth are we talking about him!?"

"You do realise we're in history class right," said Alisa, "where we talk about, oh I don't know, history?"

"I thought this was our scheduled napping hour, judging by what Fie's been doing for the last half hour," scoffed Evander, "if I wrote 'free ice cream' over the door of this room would we study that too?"

"No. But only because we wouldn't be able to read a word of it," quipped Alisa, "I've seen your attempts at writing."

"Shut up! I have expert marksmanship!"

"Did you mean penmanship?" asked Emma.

"Maybe? I thought marksmanship was about putting your mark on a page?"

"It's about shooting you halfwit!" snapped Machias.

"Now this is most curious," mused Thomas, the man had been off in his own little world for a few minutes, "if you didn't know the emperor from a turnip salesman, why did you guess Roer? That was actually geographically in the right direction."

"Well, it's like this. I was thinking about Alisa."

"Hey you creep! I didn't give you permission to think about me! Don't ever do that again or I'll ram this textbook right up your_"

"You are a very aggressive woman; did you know that?"

"And also, very sensitive about your hair," mumbled Fie, who it turns out wasn't actually asleep despite Evander's earlier accusation. "Evander said so."

"Gah!" said Evander, "I thought you were asleep!"

"I know. That's how I get them every time."

"Get what? Bad grades? And calm down Alisa, I was just using my psychic abilities to generate a positive word association relating to the answer. If I'm a little off, give me a break, I was up all night studying the dark arts. I thought of Alisa, then R, then Roer, and then everyone was looking at me so I figured I better say something and Roer was as good as anywhere else for raising an army."

"Oh indubitably," sneered Jusis, "Roer, the Modern Metropolis, certainly the place one would raise a medieval army. Do you think before you speak? Fool."

"Is there a place one goes to learn to talk like a pompous ass? Or did it just come naturally to you?"

"Ooh, is it Roer?" mocked Fie.

"You, shut up!"

"If I could just move this right along," said Thomas, "does anyone else know where the first troops of the army were raised? Rean Schwarzer? Perhaps you could enlighten us?"

"Uh, yes, it was…" Rean's mind raced to find the correct answer, and for a second he seized upon Evander's deranged ramblings for a clue. Whether you believed the boy was actually psychic, or 'telepathetic' as he called himself, he did usually have a high hit rate with his predictions. So if Evander's first reaction was to think of Alisa… Rean found himself glancing over at Alisa and to his astonishment saw, scrawled on top corner of a page in her notebook was the answer. Nord Highlands. Alisa saw him looking and gave a subtle nod, astonishing him even more. Was she ready to bury the hatchet? There was really only one way to find out, see if the answer was correct. "The Nord Highlands."

"Yes! Well done Schwarzer!"

"Hey! What am I? Chopped liver?" demanded Evander. "I figured out that he sold turnips in Celdic didn't I? Isn't discovering the basis of this nation's trade industry worth a well done too?"

"There is no proof that Emperor Dreichels ever sold turnips!" snapped Machias.

"How do you know? Where you there?"

"I mean, technically there's no proof he didn't sell turnips at one point or another," said Fie, playing vampire's advocate for a laugh.

"I don't think the people grading our history midterm would see it the same way," said Emma mildly.

"And how would they know?" repeated Evander, "were they there?"

"Well, no. But they would have read about his life from some very reliable sources."

"Reading sauces? Is that like reading tea leaves? Because I did that last night and all I got was eyestrain."

"I think she meant sources with an o and an r, not the kind you put on food," explained Elliot.

"Wonderful," drawled Jusis, "you've succeeded on turning this class into a spelling bee. And I thought this material couldn't get any more elementary."

"An elemental bee capable of casting spells? Where!?" demanded Evander, "is that what a drop bear is!? Laura, kill it!"

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," said Laura, "but why me?"

"I'm allergic to bees!"

"Calm yourself Evander, I believe we already settled the existence of drop bears yesterday," said Gaius.

"Nope, I've changed my mind," said Fie, "drop bears are real now. No take backs."

"Oh here we go again," Alisa rolled her eyes. "I never thought I'd say this, but can we get back to the lesson now?"

"Must we?" asked Instructor Thomas, "watching your vigorous youthful debate was truly enlivening! But alas, all good things must come to an end. But Evander has brought up a good point_"

"He has!?" blurted out Machias.

"Yes. In regard to the sources of our knowledge. For the most part, we weren't there, as Evander put it. So, we must put our trust in the accounts of those that were. How do we tell historical fact from historical fiction though? How to sort the mythical from the mundane? Not everything you read will be true. I believe we should spend the remainder of the lesson discussing some of the most reliable historical authors, which will no doubt prove invaluable to you when it comes to writing your history essays. Now, step one in determining an accurate account of Emperor Dreichel's life is the complete absence of any mention of him selling turnips," he winked at Evander to take the sting out of his words, "here are some authors I believe meet those qualifications," he turned to face the blackboard and began writing.

"Touché professor," Evander folded his arms across his chest and scowled, "you know what? You're a weird dude, but a cool dude."

"That might just be the nicest thing a student has ever said to me," said Instructor Thomas, "almost brings a tear to my eye!"

"Don't encourage him!" chorused the rest of the room as one.

"Who? Me?" asked both Evander and Instructor Thomas simultaneously.

Scene Break Here

The day only got worse from there, from the educational perspective at least, when Evander's ridiculous weirdness proceeded to derail Instructor Makarov's lesson as well. He'd barely gotten through the classroom door when he doubled over and began to let out a series of drawn-out hacking coughs.

"Fire!" he wheezed, "I smell smoke. And chemicals. The science lab is burning down!"

"Calm down Evander," said Gaius, "there's no fire. The winds would have brought news of such a thing."

"Rubbish! I smell fire! And where's there's fire there's smoke!"

"Isn't that backwards?" inquired Rean politely.

"You're backwards!" snapped Evander, and then seemed to pinpoint the source of the offending smell, Makarov's ashtray, where the man had hastily stubbed out his cigarette upon hearing his students coming. He lunged across the room, seized the ashtray and shook it around wildly, scattering ashes everywhere. "Fire! Hot enough to burn steel!" He threw the ashtray onto the ground and began stamping on it furiously, trying to put out a non-existent inferno. Makarov eyed him for a moment before sighing.

"Does this school attract crazies or something?" he mused, "sit down would you? And stop attacking that ashtray. It's an inanimate object."

"No, you're an inanimate object!"

"Evander!" yelled Machias, "you can't speak to an instructor like that! Apologise!"

"An instructor? Are you kidding? This is some old hobo," scoffed Evander. "Security will be along to remove him shortly." At that exact moment Vice-Principal Heinrich knocked on the door and stepped through. After pausing to offer the students a distasteful look, lingering on Evander especially long, he coughed and addressed Instructor Makarov. "Just a reminder Instructor, this building is a strictly no smoking zone. That'll be all. Continue with your lesson."

"Oh," said Evander. "How was I supposed to know!?"

"To be fair," said Fie, "there is a lot about the instructor that is hobo-like."

"Fie!" hissed Emma.

"Alright," Instructor Makarov massaged his temples, "I don't need the aggravation right now. So if you could all sit down so we can get this class over with that'd be great." Class Seven filed over to their desks and took their seats, quietly waiting for the next Evander explosion. Fortunately he seemed to have used most of his energy fighting fires, and took his seat without another outburst, allowing Instructor Makarov to continue with his lesson plan. He explained that the entrance exam had been more of a general overview, and he planned to start this lesson, and several of the following with a series of more specialised pop quizzes to see where the students were at across the various fields. Today's would be on mathematics and that was all the explanation they got before he handed out the test papers and went back to his desk. "Start now," he announced, "and if you have any questions, don't ask me."

It was at this point Evander started being weird again. First, he ripped out the staple holding the test pages together like it had offended him somehow, then he seemed to have an inordinate amount of trouble spelling his own name, writing with his tongue poking out and erasing his work several times. Finally, he gave up and loudly asked the room in general for help.

"What'd you guys get for the first question?" Makarov gave him a look that practically screamed 'are you serious right now?' which Evander ignored.

"The one about the square root of_" started Emma.

"No, before that."

"Uh, you mean, 'name?'"

"Yes. Name what? What kind of question is that? Name?"

"Put, 'massive idiot,'" joked Alisa, only for Evander to seriously try writing that in.

"How do you spell that?"

"M.A.S.S_" started Emma.

"Emma!" snapped Machias, "do you have to help everyone? You're pathological!"

"Uh, thanks?"

"That wasn't a compliment!"

"Okay, I think I've got it. Is idiot spelt I.O.T.A?"

"Yes," deadpanned Fie, "Your name is Massive Iota."

"Massive Iota is a contradiction in terms," pointed out Machias.

"You're a contradiction in terms!"

"Oh Aidios, is this going to be a running joke?" asked Alisa.

"Running?" said Laura, "It's not even limping."

"You're not even limping!" yelled Evander.

"I don't get paid enough for this," said Makarov with a sigh, and buried his face behind a science magazine.

"I'm not even getting paid, so you how do you think I feel?" asked Evander. When he received no reply he shrugged and moved on to the actual questions, with only caused another issue. He picked up a second pencil in his free hand and started writing with both simultaneously on two separate pages. Elliot stared at him with morbid fascination for a few seconds before he had to ask how Evander was doing that. "I'm ambilexic," announced Evander.

"That's not even a word, you deranged cretin," said Jusis.

"You're not even a word!" replied Evander reflexively without stopping his frenzied writing. His hands were moving so fast it was amazing smoke wasn't billowing from his pencils from the friction.

"Here we go again," groaned Alisa.

"Done!" Evander tucked the pencils away, one behind each ear and walked up to Makarov's desk before dumping the disorganised mess of test pages all over it. "Yo teach, I must be butter, because I'm on a roll! Check out these answers!"

"If you're not going to take this class seriously_" Makarov cut himself off, eyebrows shooting upwards as he caught sight of the hardest question on the exam answered correctly. "That's impossible…" he started furiously shuffling through the papers, spotting one correct answer after another. "I don't believe it. Every single one of these is correct."

"What!?" Machias nearly fell out of his chair.

"But none of them have any working. You've just written the answer with no proof of anything. You haven't shown how you got these answers. How did you do it?"

"I just knew," said Evander, shrugging.

"You can't just know!" snapped Makarov, the normally laid-back man losing his temper. "No one just knows advanced mathematics! At least not at that speed."

"Fine. I'll tell you. But this can't leave this room. I'm telepathetic. I look at the questions and the answers just come to me."

"Excuse me?"

"Is that not the word? Um, clear soylent? Psychiclopathic?"

"What I would like to know," said Jusis coldly, "why you veer from sounding almost erudite to senseless buffoonery with the speed of a bullet? Which one is the act, I wonder?"

"To be honest, both of them," admitted Evander, "I just kind of mimic people I meet. I'm not good at being a person. It's just not in my blood." Emma shot him a sharp look, which he appeared not to notice.

"So do you copy this Blade Jones guy that taught your sword skills a lot?" asked Rean, "because from all the stories you tell he seems like a pretty weird guy."

"Yeah, him, and a few other people. I'm building models of you guys in my head for future reference. I'll be able to copy you soon as well."

"I forbid you to do any such impression of me," said Laura.

"Of course I wouldn't! On my honour as a knight, I swear on my blade, and my passion for the way of the sword, that I would never do such a thing."

"I see what you did there," drawled Fie. "That was actually kind of funny."

"I didn't find it amusing!" huffed Laura.

"Alright, enough of this nonsense," said Instructor Makarov. "There's only one way you could have done that. Did you break into my office and jimmy the lock on the file cabinet where I kept my answers?"

"Jimmy the Lock!?" demanded Evander, thinking it was some sort of name, "I don't even know this Jimmy character! He sounds like a gangster!"

"Get out! Just get out! And your homeroom instructor will hear about this!" A baffled looking Evander fled the room, muttering about 'bloody psychos' and 'the decline of the education system,' both pretty rich comments coming from him.

"But will Sara hear about it before or after Instructor Thomas tells her that Evander doesn't even know who Emperor Dreichels was?" wondered Elliot. "And will that be the last weird thing she hears about him today?"

"I wouldn't bet on it," said Gaius with a sigh, "not for any odds."

"Evander would bet on it," said Rean, "I get the feeling he'd bet on just about anything."

Scene Break Here

The rest of Class Seven's first day of classes didn't go much better for Evander as his behaviour racked up one headache after another for Instructor Sara. He was able to derail Instructor Beatrix's Medical Science class just by existing, which was probably one of his best stunts yet. Early on in the lesson when Instructor Beatrix was showing them how to check someone's pulse, Evander loudly announced that he couldn't find his. Instructor Beatrix explained this was perfectly normal and he was probably just looking in the wrong spot but when she came over to help him, she also couldn't seem to find one. It took her having to produce a stethoscope and listen directly to his chest before she was able to pick up a heartbeat which she described as going at a rate 'similar to that of an animal in deep hibernation', and 'incredibly faint at that.' That wasn't even the last of his nonsense however, because when the instructor brought out the dummies designed for CPR practice, Evander took immense issue with them. Namely the fact they had no limbs, which he insisted meant they would be long dead from blood loss and trying to save them was a waste of time. Time better spent hunting their killer and avenging them, which he proceeded to do, nearly tearing the room apart before Instructor Beatrix politely asked him to leave.

He effectively ruined Instructor Mary's music class too, by interrupting her taking attendance to seize a fiddle from the back of the room and starting up a rousing a rendition of 'A Fiend Went Down to Bareahard.' His performance was complete with him dancing across the tops of desks and wailing dramatically at all the right moments. When asked why on earth he'd done such a thing, he could only say that the song had been stuck in his head ever since he'd mentioned it a couple of days ago and that had been the only way to get rid of it. He then proceeded to tell a long-winded story about his adopted father, a talented metalsmith, actually making a fiddle out of gold which Evander had taken around Celdic offering it in exchange for people's souls. It had been a joke, but Evander claimed no one had seen the funny side, and Father Zirbel had actually ordered him run out of town for trying to tempt souls away from Aidios.

"Sucks to be them though," he was saying "because it was a good deal. My father does good work, he made my swords too. Anyway, does that answer your question?" Instructor Mary just stared at him at blankly for a long moment, so Jusis had step in.

"She only asked if you were present, you nitwit!"

"Ah. I see. What we had just there was a failure to communicate. See, I thought she was asking me to present something. And this being a music class, I assumed she wanted a performance of some kind. I only started learning about the intricacies of this language a few days ago, she should have been clearer."

Surprisingly Instructor Mary, showing the patience of a saint at this point, didn't order him thrown out, and actually thanked him for his 'spirited performance' but requested he restrict himself to a simple, 'present and correct,' in future attendance calls. This only caused further trouble as he asked what he was correct about in this situation, and if it were not more appropriate to answer present and incorrect because he didn't know the answer to the question. At this point Fie tried to snipe him with a thrown pencil to get him to shut up but he dodged it without even flinching and told her already had enough pencils. Which was true, because he still had the two he'd stuck behind his ears during his aborted presence in Makarov's class.

"Stop doing that," groused Fie.

"What, dodging? I can stand still if you want to try again."

"Then it's not fun."

"What if I stood on my head?"

"What if you stopped interrupting the lesson?" inquired Machias, in a faux conversational tone, masking his increasing rage.

"How would that make dodging the pencils any harder? You're not very bright, are you?"

"Why you_!" Fie choose this exact moment to lob to her pencil case at Evander, who wielding the fiddle he'd borrowed like a bat, hit a home run, sending the case straight through the classroom window with a shattering crack. There was a long silence before Evander quietly put the fiddle down and started to walk out of the room.

"Where do you think you're going?" demanded Alisa.

"I'm leaving before I get thrown out," he explained, showing that he did have some awareness of how disruptive his actions were. "Who do I see about getting a broken window fixed?"

"Janitor Gyler," answered Instructor Mary after she'd had a moment to steady her frayed nerves. "Uh, could someone go with him?"

"I'll go," volunteered Rean, "don't worry Instructor, I'll make sure he gets there with minimum chaos."

"I'm not a child!" protested Evander, "ugh, whatever!" he stormed out of the classroom, leaving Rean to hurry and catch up with him.

"Hey, Evander!" he called after him, "you're not still trying to help me out, are you?" Evander stopped in his tracks and turned around, giving Rean a strange look.

"Of course not. What do you think I am? Crazy?"

"Best I don't answer that honestly."

"Oh, ha ha!"

"But seriously, why are you messing around so much?"

"It's not part of some master plan, if that's what you're asking. I'm just hungry."

"Hungry? What's that got to do with anything?" Evander seemed to realise he'd said something strange and scrambled to find some sort of a valid explanation.

"Um, well you see. I'm an addict. I'm addicted to…food. Uh, a certain kind of food, that I can't have anymore. Because it's bad for me. But I'm still always hungry for it. And the hunger is worse when I have to sit still in these lessons, not doing anything practical. So, I get this urge to jump up and move around, just to get my mind off the hunger. But it's always there."

"Oh," Rean thought about this for a moment, "is there anything I can do to help? Could you substitute the unhealthy food with something else? I'm sure there's someone in town or at the academy who might know something. I can ask around if you want?"

"No there's_" he stopped suddenly, and stared at Rean, "why are you so helpful all the time? I've been nothing but trouble for you and everyone else but you still want to help me. I don't get it."

"There's nothing to get," said Rean, "I don't like seeing people suffer. If I can help people, I want to do it. And I know what it's like to feel different, not quite fit in. I'm adopted too, you know, and I've had a somewhat unconventional life. Maybe not like yours, but I can understand somewhat."

"Hmm," Evander thought about it for a moment, "are you sure you're not just a huge sucker?"

"Ha! Maybe," said Rean, "but what does it matter? It costs nothing at the end of the day. But back on topic. If you can't get this food or something similar, do you have any techniques that might distract you from the hunger?"

"Counting helps," admitted Evander. "It focusses me, puts some order in my head."

"Could you try that in our next class then?" suggested Rean, "count anything in the room. Count everything if you have to. Think of it as an apology to Emma," he added slyly, "a proper one this time. She's serious about class, and you being serious too and not disrupting the lessons is the best thing you can do for her."

"I knew my previous apology was insufficient," muttered Evander, "alright, I'll try it. But I won't like it. And it'd be easier if the next lesson was something slightly more interesting."

Scene Break Here

The next class was not, as it turned out, any more interesting than the previous offerings of the day. Vice Principal Heinrich was teaching Political Economics in his usual, curt, intense style. Worse, he seemed to be almost looking for an excuse to throw Evander out, watching the boy like a hawk. Thankfully Evander didn't give him any reason to be angry, focussing on counting things around the room every time he felt the urge to get up and do something insane. It worked, kind of. He still was a bit twitchy and kept tapping on his desk and bouncing his legs up and down, but other than that he was a model student. Which was why it was all the more frustrating for him when Instructor Heinrich still asked him to stay behind after class. He sat at his desk with a forlorn look as the rest of the class filed out, not even cheered up by the thumbs up Rean shot him. Once they were alone, Heinrich cleared this throat loudly but didn't come any closer to Evander.

"Just so we are perfectly clear on the subject," he started, "I'm aware of your… circumstances and I was thoroughly opposed to letting you study here. If I see one sign, no matter how tiny, that you have let your nature get the better of you, you can be sure I will be reporting it to the relevant authorities immediately. Do you understand?"

"Do you drink, sir?" asked Evander, coming straight out of left field.

"Excuse me!? Whether or not I sometimes indulge in alcoholic beverages is no business of yours!"

"It's a simple question, but I got my answer. You drink, even though you know it'll cloud your judgement and make you risk doing something stupid. You drink, even though you know it'll leave you feeling worse for wear in the morning."

"I can stop myself my drinking at any time! It's my choice!"

"Exactly. So why would it be any different for me? I've chosen to stop drinking, I gave my word to that effect, as I'm sure you're aware. I don't think you should treat me any differently from the other students."

"The other students don't drink blood!"

"Neither do I. Not anymore."

"But you did, once. You were hunted for it. And the urge to do it again will always be there."

"So will your urge to drink a beer on a hot summer afternoon. We're not so different, instructor."

"I'm not a raging drunkard like your wastrel of a homeroom instructor!" snapped Vice Principal Heinrich, "If I drink a beer, no one gets hurt, it's an entirely different situation from yours! And we are so very different. I'm human after all and you… you're a half breed!"

"Ugh!" Evander slammed his palms down on his desk in frustration, not noticing how Heinrich flinched back from him. "How can I make you trust me?"

"I will trust you, leech, when you no longer thirst for blood."

"But I will always thirst for blood… It's a part of me."

"Exactly," said Heinrich, gracing Evander with a nasty smile. "Listen, I've been forced to tolerate commoners swanning around this school like they own the place. I've been forced to tolerate your ridiculous Class Seven poaching some of the best upper-class students. I've been forced to tolerate junior Jaegers and barbarian foreigners sullying these hallowed halls. But they all pale in comparison to you. At least they are human. You? You don't even know what you are. You wear a human mask, true, but I'm watching for the moment it falls off. Now I will repeat my earlier question. Do you understand how tenuous your position here is? Do you understand that I will be watching you like a hawk?"

"Yes sir. I don't like it, but I understand."

"I don't care if you like it. I will protect this institution, even if no one else will. Now dismissed!"

Scene Break Here

The final class of the day was homeroom, or at least it would have been if their instructor, Sara Valestein, wasn't playing truant herself. Even Evander arrived before her, in a noticeably low mood after he'd been harassed by Instructor Heinrich. Though after all the problems he'd caused her today, he probably should have been relieved that Sara was briefly absent.

"What did Instructor Heinrich want with you?" asked Elliot, "are you okay?"

"It's fine," Evander waved his hand dismissively and took his seat. "He was just angry about his school being overrun with barbarian foreigners and junior Jaegers and wanted my opinion on what to do about it. I suggested immediate expulsion but he's going to adopt a wait and see approach for now."

"If you can't be serious for once in your life, could you at least not be delirious?" said Alisa, rolling her eyes. "Gaius isn't a barbarian, and if you were listening to Instructor Thomas this morning, not even that foreign."

"Yes, and I can't imagine there being a Jaeger here, junior or otherwise," said Laura, not noticing the sharp look Fie shot her. "You should invent better stories."

"Fine!" snapped Evander, "I counselled him on his alcohol addiction, and he called me a half-breed and told me to stop drinking blood! Is that what you want to hear?" Emma let out a loud nervous laugh that prompted everyone to stare at her, but thankfully the classroom door blew open to admit Instructor Sara before anyone could comment on it.

"You would not believe the day I've had!" huffed Sara by way of greeting, stalking into the room like a bat out of a hell. "I swear, everyone in this place has been hassling me about a certain someone who I shall not name, but if he knows what's good for him, will step forward and apologise for adding to my workload!"

"Whatever it was, I didn't do it," said Evander.

"Didn't do it!? Did you, or did you not claim that our illustrious former emperor was a turnip salesman?"

"Oh. That."

"Yes, that!"

"Then no. It was my doppelganger."

"Uh huh. And did your doppelganger break into Instructor Makarov's office and steal his test answers?"

"No. My other doppelganger did that. I have three."

"And I suppose it was one of these mystical duplicates that tore Instructor Beatrix's classroom apart, looking for an invisible assassin?"

"I prefer to think of it as being pragmatic. The victim was already dead, the guy had no limbs left, instructor. It was a tough call, but someone had to make it."

"Like the racket you had to make in Instructor Mary's music lesson? Or breaking the classroom window?"

"That was Fie!"

"Snitches get stitches," Fie admonished him. "I mean, I had nothing to do with that."

"I'll deal with you later," said Sara, still fuming.

"Only if you have time, I'd hate to interrupt your midlife crisis."

"Midlife crisis!? I'm not even thirty!"

"Shh. I think I heard an old maid sighing."

"You kids are awful! You should all be ashamed of yourselves! Rean, I'm holding you personally responsible for Evander's behaviour!"

"Me!? Why!?"

"Because otherwise people will blame me for it and I don't feel like hearing it. You can take it. Unlike moustache man. Evander, did you seriously call the Vice-Principal an alcoholic?"

"I did no such thing! Actually, he called you an alcoholic! I quote, 'I'm not a raging drunkard like your wastrel of a homeroom instructor.'"

"Excuse me!? How dare he! That's no way to talk to a lady!"

"When he ever meets one, I'll be sure to let him know," said Machias.

"Oh ha, ha! You kids laugh it up! I ought to give you all so much homework you'll be grey by the time you're finished!"

"Is that what happened to you?" inquired Alisa in a faux innocent tone.

"I hope you're all this smart on your midterms!" snapped Sara, instantly sobering them, "because you will not like what I'll do to anyone who makes me look bad by failing them."

"Ha! You tell them Instructor Sara! Unleash fury on them!" said Evander, clearly trying to weasel his way out of his own impending punishment.

"I don't know what you're so happy about," she said, turning her gaze on him. "The only way I could get Instructor Thomas off my back was to tell him you'd be attending remedial history classes with him, starting right after I'm finished with you. I told him he could take all night hammering history into your head if he had to, and every other night until you can keep up with the rest of the class."

"You can't do that! I'll sleep through my morning classes if I have to study all night!"

"Trust me, from what I've heard, your teachers would prefer that to your behaviour today. Oh and Instructor Mary wanted to pass on that you have serious musical potential and invite you to join the Wind Orchestra, but I told her you were already in the occult weirdoes society."

"Occult Research Society!"

"Whatever."

"What do you two even do in that club anyway?" asked Rean.

"It's top secret," replied Evander.

"So big fat nothing then," scoffed Alisa.

"Alright, I'll tell you. We held a séance to contact the ghost of whoever it was that died and took your sense of humour with them."

"Oh shut up and go and look for some more drop bears."

"I will, if you go and look for a more natural shade of hair dye."

"Shut up!"

"Instructor, did you have anything you wanted to tell us?" interrupted Gaius, hoping to forestall a brawl breaking out.

"Yes," agreed Jusis, "apart from amusing anecdotes about a certain cretin that is."

"Yeah Laura," joked Evander, "stop hogging all the attention."

"I'm in a charitable mood," said Laura, "so you get one warning before I draw my sword."

"You're going to draw your sword? Okay then, but shouldn't you save that for art class?"

"That's it! Outside, right now. Duel me!"

"Declined."

"You can't decline! Have you no honour?"

"No? I mean yes? I don't know how to answer that. Is 'have you no honour' what Sister Ornella calls a double negative?"

"No," said Emma, "a double negative is more like 'I didn't see nothing,' which is incorrect because it implies you did in fact see something."

"Yeah, we all just saw a trainwreck," said Fie.

"Do you lot even want to hear about your upcoming practical exam, or should I just see myself out?" asked Sara. Evander went to open his mouth, "don't even think about it!"

Scene Break Here

Evander was briefly given leave from the purgatory of remedial history to pop over to the student union building and tell Beryl he couldn't attend tonight's club meeting. He needn't have bothered though, because she already seemed to be aware that he couldn't make it and had even prepared a task for him.

"There is a dark tome hidden in the library," she started in her usual ominous tone of voice, "your classmate, Emma Millstein, deliberately concealed it. To make up for your absence tonight, and the unfortunate disruption it will cause to your training in the occult, I am tasking you to find this book. This is the title, even if you cannot understand the words, I trust you will recognise them when you see it," she slid a piece of paper across the desk so he could see what she'd written." Evander frowned as he tried to read the text on the page, poking his tongue out as he concentrated intensely. He'd had another morning lesson with Sister Ornella since his first, but two lessons a scholar did not make, and he was having a hard time.

"That word there," he said, pointing, "leech. I think the vice principal called me that."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he did. The leech is a bloodsucking parasite after all, and that is how he thinks of you."

"So, this book is about vampires?" asked Evander, putting the pieces together, "what do you want me to do when I find it? Destroy it?"

"No. I want you to relocate it to the far-left reading desk on the ground floor."

"But someone could find it there."

"That's rather the point, my young apprentice."

"Just what game are you playing here, Beryl?"

"One that I intend the likes of us, those from the unseen side of the world, to win. My spirit guide would like me to pass on a warning to you. Soon will come time for you to return home and face the sun. A sun that will burn away every shadow you hide in. A sun that will force you to declare one way or the other. Human or vampire. Hero or villain. This small favour I ask of you tonight, will nudge things in the right direction. Shortly before dawn, Instructor Thomas will feign sleep, search for the book then. Find it and leave it where I said before the sun rises."

"Alright. But I hope you know what you're doing. That book has already tipped at least one person off, if it's the one Emma hid, and you want me to leave it lying around in the open."

"Don't question me. Now go, before you are missed."

Scene Break Here

Evander had barely set foot in the library when the librarian gestured him over to her with a stern look on her face.

"I've been informed that you and Instructor Thomas will be spending the night here," she said, her expression suggesting that being tortured with red hot pokers would be preferable for her. "Normally I'd stay to keep an eye on you, but I've been instructed to leave you to it. So I want to make it clear, if you indulge in your hobby of burning books tonight, I will see to it that you never set foot in this library again."

"Excuse me!? I do not burn books! That was just a joke!"

"I don't find it funny, and neither do the merchants of Trista. In future you should refrain from jokes about arson and vandalism."

"Fine! I promise I'll only torch the really boring books," said Evander, trying a joke combined with what he hoped was a winning smile. The withering look he got in reply would have drained the life out of him if he wasn't already half-dead. "Sorry. Will that be all?"

"Not quite. A classmate of yours, Mister Schwarzer, dropped off a student notebook for you since you'd be here all night," she handed him his special Class Seven handbook. "Don't burn that either."

"I wouldn't. Wrong type of paper," said Evander, joking again. The librarian just sighed and shook her head.

"Instructor Thomas is waiting for you upstairs. I better not regret leaving you two here." She walked off then, closing the doors of the library behind her. Evander couldn't help but think of them as the doors of a tomb slamming shut, leaving him sealed in a dark crypt.

"It's going to be a long night, isn't it?" muttered Evander, and seeing that the sun was going down, remembered to take out his Eternal Night quartz so the effect wasn't doubled. He didn't need to be hyperactive during the longest history lecture on earth after all. He made his way up the stairs and saw that Instructor Thomas had set up camp with a massive supply of books and other reference materials. The man spotted him and jumped up.

"Evander, my young friend! I was so pleased when Sara said you'd volunteered to attend all night remedial history! You must find this subject as fascinating as I do to spend your whole night in such a fashion. You are in good company then, because we will wile the night away in the embrace of the history of this great nation! Take a seat!" he clapped Evander on the back, and a strange jolt, almost like fire, shot through Evander, causing him to jump. "Ha! Sorry for startling you. I promise there's no werewolves prowling about tonight if you're nervous. Moon's only half full tonight after all."

"The half-moon?" Evander asked immediately, a frisson of nervous energy running through him. "I'd lost track of time." This was bad, his cravings would be especially bad tonight. They always were on the half-moon.

"Oh, are you interested in the lunar cycle young man? Perhaps a future in astronomy awaits you. But for now, let us begin revising the war of the lions."

Scene Break Here

The following hours passed slowly, every second feeling like the sensation of nails being dragged across a chalk board to Evander. His hunger ebbed and flowed like the tides, sometimes hitting him in an almighty wave, then retreating to almost nothing, a faint whisper in the back of his mind. He struggled to focus on Instructor Thomas' words, using every technique he could think of. Counting, reciting song lyrics in his head, even digging his nails into his palms when those failed. The hunger got so bad at one point that when Instructor Thomas briefly wandered off to find another book, Evander bit into his arm to muffle his frustrated scream of pain and hunger. Finally, around three o'clock in the morning, Instructor Thomas began to slur his speech and slump in his chair.

"And it was so then, that the great knight Roland Vander, long time friend and protector of Prince Dreichels died in battle. He left his young son to be raised by others. And…" he trailed off, and his head slumped onto his chest. Evander waited until he could hear the man snoring softly before being sure the instructor had finally dozed off. With the approach of the sun, Evander's hunger was slowly becoming more manageable, and he was able to focus on his task, finding that book about vampires. It would normally be impossible to sneak up on Evander, but while he was searching the shelves, a strange, complete silence had fallen over the darkened library, and when the front doors opened just wide enough to admit a single person, he heard nothing at all. It was a blonde girl, and she seemed to be on a mission, heading straight up the stairs to where Instructor Thomas was waiting. The bespectacled man was no longer feigning sleep when she reached him, but standing still and tall, without any of his usual easy-going energy.

"How did it go Sir Thomas?" asked the girl, her voice a hushed, nervous whisper.

"Very well indeed, Sister Rosine," replied Instructor Thomas, "when I brushed him with the true faith earlier tonight he was startled but not burnt as he would have been if he were truly wicked. And I am well aware that he is struggling against the thirst within him, but even when I feigned sleep he was able to resist his hunger and left me alone. I believe there is some good in him, how much remains to be seen. But I do not believe him to be a threat. He has given his word, not one drop, and I am certain he will keep it."

"But do not the teachings say there are no virtuous vampires? How can we be sure_?"

"We cannot. But is the same not true of any man, Sister Rosine? The potential for both good and evil exists in all of the children of Aidios, and that child is no different. His path will be a difficult one, but there is human in him still, and where there is humanity there is light. Now, you should return to the dormitory before you are missed. I will handle things here."

"If you are sure… where is the vamp_ I mean, where is Evander now?"

"I believe he is looking for a good book. You shall not run into him, and even if you do, I shall ensure you are not seen. Now go."

Scene Break Here

Evander completed his task and returned to the desk where Instructor Thomas was sleeping, none the wiser to any of the goings on that occurred in his absence. From there he sat patiently until the sun rose before switching his Eternal Night quartz back on. He had classes in a couple of hours, so he figured he should wake Instructor Thomas up and get out of here but he was weirdly nervous to touch the man after the strange jolt he'd received the night before. Thankfully, while he was standing there deliberating, Instructor Thomas woke up on his own, blinking owlishly.

"Oh, sorry, I seem to have dozed off for a minute or two," he said, "where was I?"

"Roland Vander died and left his son to be raised by others," recited Evander perfectly, surprising even himself with his recall. "And it wasn't a few minutes sir, but hours. The sun is coming up."

"Alas for all our lost lesson time!" Instructor Thomas practically wailed, "why did you not wake me!?"

"I thought you could use the sleep. No offense, but you're old."

"Ah, the casual cruelty of youth," Instructor Thomas mimed mopping tears away from his eyes. "Very well Evander, you may go. But I expect to see you again today after classes. Don't be late."

"Instructor," said Evander slowly, "why do I get the impression you're trying to keep an eye on me?"

"Hmm. I couldn't possibly say, young man. Perhaps the darkness of the night rendered you a little paranoid? Who knows what foul things lurk in the shadows? Oh well, you'd best be running along. Carol will be along shortly to open up, and you should be getting ready for class."

"Sure. Fine. Whatever." Evander eyed the instructor suspiciously, but complied all the same, heading down the stairs and out of the library. He was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly walked straight into Jusis who seemed to be on his way to the library for some early morning study.

"Watch where you are going!" snapped Jusis, "we can't all recover from having a broken back in a matter of seconds."

"Huh? Whatever gave you that idea!?" asked Evander, laughing nervously. He'd hoped no one had noticed his miraculous recovery during the battle with the fiend on the first day of school.

"It was a joke," said Jusis, eying him coldly, "something I thought you'd be familiar with, jester that you are. How did your remedial history tutoring go? Are you still an ignorant buffoon?"

"No, just a buffoon now."

"How droll. Tell me, did you know that the children of Trista think you are a vampire? I overheard them talking about it. A small group of them were waiting outside the dorm to catch a look at you. When I informed then you'd been out all night it rather seemed to confirm their theory."

"Don't worry about it, children always hate me for some reason."

"Indeed, as do animals if I recall correctly. Truly, you live a miserable life, Evander, I hope it's not catching. I'll see you in class later, I trust you'll behave yourself today," with that he stepped around Evander and continued on his way to the library. But now he was the one lost in thought, recalling something he'd read in a book of folktales.

The vampire, cunning as it is, cannot hide its face from the truly innocent of this world. Children and animals in particular are immensely likely to perceive this beast, having not the age or cynicism to blind themselves to its existence.

Scene Break Here

Jusis had been planning on going over some mathematics problems he'd had slight difficulties with during yesterday's exam, but his encounter with Evander, and the fact there was a book about vampires of all things lying on the table he sat at, changed his plans. He picked up the book and began to read, his eyebrows rising higher with each word he read. It shouldn't be possible, but with all the pieces coming together, it looked like Evander was some sort of legendary creature.

The strange behaviour of the dhampir stems from multiple sources and cannot be attributed solely to their cursed blood. Their childhoods are often lonely and difficult with the high incidence of their families either being dead or abandoning them at a young age. They often grow up as wandering urchins and strays, separated from the rest of society or associating only with other undesirables. Even when they do not pick up bad habits, their fiend blood and the alien hunger it engenders within them creates a distance between them and their fellow man. When forced to go among humans they often resort to mimicry to blend in but are poor even at this. Exaggerating personality traits to an extreme or switching characters without warning. Where true vampire are often seductive and charming, the dhampirs confused and erratic behaviour has the opposite effect, driving people away or infuriating them. Humans confuse them, true vampires scorn them, the only place they fit in is among their own kind. However, with the rarity of dhampirs, it is unlikely they will ever meet another of the species. It is rumoured that a so-called Half-Moon Clan dwells in a remote area, a haven for dhampirs but various sources in the Septian Church either claim this place does not exist or that it did and has since been eradicated. The Bracer Guild has even been alleged to have been involved in said eradication to protect civilians nearby, but nothing can be confirmed_

"Ah, I see you had the same idea I did," said a deep voice from behind Jusis. The noble boy turned around and saw Gaius standing behind him with an appraising look. "We in Nord are closer to such legends, so it was not a stretch for me to believe that Evander was not entirely human. I think Emma, for whatever reason, suspects as well."

"I will admit, I did think that such creatures were little more than fairy tales," said Jusis, "but I am not a fool so as to ignore evidence right in front of me. During the orienteering exercise he could see in the dark and he fought like a demon until the sight of Elliot's blood distracted him. Then when he was struck with a mighty blow, I heard his spine snap, he recovered in mere moments. Without healing arts or any other painkilling medications, he was back in the fight. Elliot recovered too, but only briefly, and needed medical attention afterwards. Children and animals seem to fear him, and even adults seem terribly put out by him, before he even opens his mouth."

"I noticed all that too," admitted Gaius, "even if the Winds did not already whisper that he was different, I would have suspected. There was the fact he would not set foot in a chapel, and his intense bursts of energy whenever the sun went down. Not to mention his allergy to sunlight and garlic, and a fear of running water. But what convinced me most was the feeling I get around him, a feeling I have only felt once before. In my homeland, near one of our favourite settlement spots, there is an old, abandoned quarry. It is said an evil djinn dwells there, and that he is served by vampires bound to his will. I was out in the highlands with my father once, looking for a missing member of our flock, when we found the sheep in question, utterly drained of blood. I felt it then, a chill down my back, a sense of cold terror. Father told me to run and never look back and has not spoken of that day since. But I felt that way again when I first met Evander, weaker, but just like it was back then in the highlands."

"It is obvious then. Evander is a dhampir, but nothing I've read has any suggestion as to what we should do about that. I find him unpleasant, true, but I do not feel he is a threat. I do not even think we can tell the others. That stubborn mule Machias would call us crazy, and do not think the others would feel any different, even if they were not so blunt about it."

"I think we should leave it in the hands of the Goddess, and the Winds. I would feel much surer of Evander's good character if he were to stand in the chapel, before the altar, without being struck down. But how to get him in there?"

"I have the beginnings of a plan," said Jusis, "is Schwarzer not helping the student council with requests? I think I can work with that…"

Scene Break Here

In another one of Beryl's bizarre tasks, Evander was told to go to Micht's Pawn Shop and 'look for an opportunity.' To do what exactly, she didn't say, but Evander knew better than to argue, after all, nothing bad had happened after her last task. Nothing seemed to happen at all actually, so it was probably just a classic Beryl Mess Around like the famous drop bear incident. In this case, Evander was happy to comply, because Micht was a mysterious figure around Trista, and meeting him should be interesting. And if he just got thrown out of the store the moment he entered, well at least he could tell Beryl he'd tried. So the next morning, after he was released from remedial history but before classes started, he made his way into the pawn shop only to find the owner, rather than throwing him out, completely ignored him in favour of reading some sort of paper and muttering to himself.

"Hey old timer," called Evander, "is there anything really strange in this store? I'm asking for a friend." The old man looked up at him witheringly before sighing and putting his paper down.

"Apart from you, you mean? I heard about you, the firebug, right?"

"I don't burn anything!" snapped Evander, "it was a joke!"

"I know," said Micht, smirking, "but mud sticks, doesn't it? I know a bit about that myself. Hmm, so you're the one Sara mentioned, eh? She's right, I don't like you, but I don't like anyone so I can't see that making a difference. Let me make something clear, I don't care what you do or don't drink, just don't waste my time. Buy something or get out, I'm busy."

"Buy something? I don't even know what this place is, looks like you sell a bunch of useless junk."

"Don't like it, don't shop here. And it's a pawn shop, like the sign says."

"Pawn? Like the chess piece? You sell board games?"

"Son, I sell just about everything here."

"Including information?" Micht narrowed his eyes at Evander.

"Who told you that?"

"Call it my limbic tuition."

"Huh? You mean psychic intuition? Son, if you had that you should be at the racetrack raking in the mira, not wasting my time."

"Aha! So, this is my opportunity! How do I make mira at the racetrack? Would they pay me for running fast?"

"No, you dolt, they race horses there. People guess which horse will place where and put money on it. Depending on the odds of your bet you can win a whole bundle if your gamble pays off."

"I need eighty thousand mira to pay off a debt, can I make that sort of mira?"

"You could make ten times that if you knew what you were doing, but you won't see one crooked mira of that until you're older. It's illegal for minors to gamble, nobody would take your mira."

"Nobody? Even you?"

"What is this?" snapped Micht "You a narc? For the RMP? Intelligence Division? I'm not playing, whatever your game is. This is a legitimate business."

"Legitimate!? I can see a bloody grenade launcher over there! You can sell that, but you won't help me? I thought pawn shops were supposed to help people but frankly I'm feeling victimised and taken advantage of."

"A minute ago, you didn't even know what a pawnshop was. I'm not falling for this con, who sent you huh? The Icy Maiden? The Scarecrow? I wasn't born yesterday."

"I can tell, you've got senile dementia!" yelled Evander, "I'm taking my business elsewhere!"

"I wouldn't take your business if you were the last man on earth! Get out of here you rat! Before I throw you out!"

"You can't throw me out, I'm leaving! You old git!" Evander stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him. "Is everyone in this place bloody insane?" demanded Evander, seeming not to notice the irony of asking said question to thin air. "What opportunity was in there huh?"

"Excuse me," an incredibly shifty looking gentleman in a full trench coat with a cap pulled low over his face approached Evander. "I couldn't help but overhear what went on with old Micht. You're right, the old fool wouldn't know an opportunity if it hit him over the head."

"But you would?" asked Evander, eying him suspiciously.

"Damn straight I would. If you've got a gift for picking a winner, I'd be happy to place a bet on your behalf in this afternoon's race over in Heimdallr. For a cut of the profits of course."

"You don't know anything about me, there might be no winnings to take a cut of. What's your angle?"

"What's a few mira between friends if you don't work out like I hope?"

"Friends? I don't even know your name."

"Well, I can fix that. I'm Jimmy, but my friends call me 'The Lock' because when I see a good deal, I lock it down fast."

"Jimmy the Lock! I've heard of you! Why'd you steal the answers to yesterday's test, eh? I got blamed for that!"

"Huh? I mean uh, yes, I see my reputation precedes me. I'm a man of means, as you can see. I get things done. But since I've inconvenienced you recently, I'll take a smaller cut on our first winnings to apologise."

"Hold on, I haven't agreed yet."

"Think fast then, because opportunity knocks, but it doesn't beg."

"Fine! Geez, don't give me the hard sell. Alright, so how does this work?" 'Jimmy The Lock,' if you believed that was his name, handed Evander the same type of paper Micht had been reading earlier.

"See these names here? Those are all the horses running this afternoon, categorised by what race they're in. If you'd just_" He fell silent as Evander fished a pencil out of his pocket and began scribbling numbers down next to names. When he was finished, every name on the page had been marked with a number and he handed it back to 'Jimmy'. "No kid, I don't know what this is, but I just need to know the winner of_"

"That's the placing of every horse running today," said Evander simply, his psychic gift had come in as clear as a bell. "Every race, from first to last place. Is that wrong?" Jimmy's jaw nearly dropped to his ankles.

"You're serious? You know all that?"

"Sure, but if it doesn't pay off, like you said, what's a few mira between friends? You can spot me the first bet right?"

"A few mira!? For picking the finishing lineup of every single race correctly!?"

"Oh. Is that not worth eighty thousand mira?"

"Eighty thousand? It's worth_ uh. I mean, you might just get that amount. Barely. I won't make much profit on this but, hey, what are friends for!"

"Thanks! You can deliver any winnings to my mailbox at the third dormitory, Evander's the name. Keep anything over eighty thousand, I don't need the rest."

"Evander, eh? I think this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship." The pair shook hands, and then Evander walked away, whistling.

"I think I just got myself a pretty good deal," he said to himself as he walked away, "things are finally looking up!"

Scene Break

'Jimmy' waited until Evander was long gone and then hurried in the opposite direction, finding a secluded spot, and pulling out an orbal communication device.

"Did you get all that?" he asked whoever was listening on the other end. "The kid fell for it, hook line and sinker!"

"Yes, all seems to have gone according to calculations," replied a cool female voice. "But remember, all winnings must go to Evander. I've already determined exactly how much he should win, and if any goes missing…"

"But the kid only wants eighty thousand!" whined Jimmy, "what's the harm in_?"

"If I know how much money Evander has earned through illegal means, so will the race officials. All of it must be accounted for if we are to gain the appropriate leverage. This plan is distasteful enough with any further malfeasance on our part. Is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good, you know what to do. Dismissed."

"Sheesh," Jimmy buried the communicator back in his coat pocket, "if you don't want to get your hands a little dirty, Icy Maiden, you're in the wrong business."

Scene Break Here

Excerpt from the List of Requests assigned to Rean Schwarzer by the Student Council

Request Name: Get me to the church on time!

Client: The Children of Trista (And no one else!)

Details: There is a scary vampire in Trista who goes to the big school up the road and his name is Vandal or something. We would all be less scared of him if he went into the chapel and prayed to Aidios because that would mean the Goddess doesn't hate him and he isn't evil. Could a very brave person who isn't afraid of vampires convince him to go to church, so we all feel safe? And could that person tell us if he turns to dust or gets struck by lightning or something else awesome? If you can help us, come and tell us at Kirsche's Café because we are playing Blad_ hiding from the vampire there. Thanks heaps!

Note from Student Council President Towa: I know this sounds a little silly, and if you can't get around to it, don't worry. But if the children really are scared of Evander this might help ease their worries, so I included it just in case you had time to help.

Scene Break Here

"We sent it in just like you said Mister Jusis!" said a young boy, staring up at the noble student with wide eyes, "did we do good?"

"It's 'did we do well?'" Jusis corrected him gently, "and yes, you did well. All you need to do now is play blade with your friends until the dark-haired boy named Rean shows up to tell you about Evander. Gaius and I will be close by to hear everything. Here are the sweets I promised you, share them with your friends."

"Yay! Thanks Mister Jusis, you're really cool!" The boy ran off with a handful of sweets, leaving Jusis and Gaius alone at their corner table at Kirsche's Café.

"You know," said Gaius, smiling, "you really have a way with children." Jusis shot him a cold imperious look.

"Don't read into it, Worzel, I was merely trying to impart them with a work ethic. They performed their task ably and were rewarded, a fine lesson to learn at an early age."

"Whatever you say," said Gaius, still smirking. "But why are we waiting for second hand information? Could we not wait in the Chapel to see exactly what happens to Evander?"

"I'm being as cautious as possible because we're operating on guesswork and speculation. I've scoured every book on vampires in that library and half of them contradict each other. I don't know the extent of Evander's abilities, physical or psychic, and I'm worried the two of us being anywhere near the place might tip him off. And Rean will be with him, between the two of them they could probably sense a pin drop, let alone us spying on them."

"If you say so," Gaius shrugged easily, "but I think Rean and Evander sense people entirely differently. With Rean it's more a spiritual power, an intuition. Evander seems to use sharper senses instead, a more mundane method of finding people."

"Yes, well if he sniffs Lady Laura again, we won't need to worry about what he is, because he'll be six feet under. Now, let us wait and see how this plays out."

Scene Break Here

Rean never knew what to expect when dealing with Evander, except maybe the unexpected. It was just typical of him to get himself into Rean's council workload in the most ridiculous way possible, by walking around town scaring a bunch of children. So before even knocked on the boy's door to handle this request he knew something weird was going to happen and he wasn't disappointed. No sooner had he rapped his knuckles against the door a couple of times, did Evander call out something bizarre.

"I told you! Leave my eighty thousand mira in the mailbox with my name on it!" he yelled through the door.

"Um, it's actually Rean, and I don't have eighty thousand mira for you."

"Huh?" Evander opened the door open and blinked owlishly when he spotted Rean. "Oh. I didn't know you worked for Jimmy the Lock. So, it wasn't worth eighty thousand mira then? Did I at least get fifty thousand? That'd be a good down payment on my debt."

"Evander, I have no idea what you are talking about, and frankly, I don't think I'm meant to be hearing it either."

"Oh. I shouldn't have said anything, forget I said I anything."

"Are you in trouble Evander? Do you owe someone money?"

"I said forget you heard anything."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, it's all under control. Can I help you with something?"

Welp, here goes nothing, thought Rean.

"Yes actually, I was just thinking of popping over to the chapel and wanted to know if you wanted to come with."

"Hahahaha! No."

"Seriously!? You didn't even think about it."

"Okay, let me think," he paused for ten seconds, "no."

"Come on, it's for the children."

"Oh! If it's for the children, you should have said! Definitely not!"

"Ugh! How can I convince you?"

"You can't. I'll honour any genuine request for help, but not that. Anything but that."

"How about we play a game for it?" suggested Rean, "chess or something? And you'll come with me if I win." Evander's eyes lit up and for a moment Rean thought he had him, but then the other boy eventually shook his head.

"I usually can't resist a good wager but not that. I won't risk that."

"Why not?"

"I'm scared Rean," admitted Evander, his voice shaking, "I'm scared to death. Of that place, of what it means to… to someone like me. Please don't make me do it. If you keep pushing, I'll crack, and I'm scared. Now please leave me alone." Evander closed his door in Rean's face and said nothing more, leaving Rean in a bind. He wandered downstairs to the living area and took a seat while he thought things over. Now he was more determined to get Evander to the church than ever before. At first, it had just been a box to tick on his daily tasks but now? Something was very wrong with his classmate, and he wouldn't beat it until he faced up to it.

"You look troubled, Rean," said a calm voice, and Rean looked up to see Laura had wandered downstairs too and was observing him, "is there something I can help you with?"

"Thanks Laura, it might help me just to talk it over with someone else. I got a request from the student council to get Evander to walk into the local chapel, but he's been refusing, because he's scared of something there, and it's really worrying me."

"Hmm. Have you tried asking him as a favour? Fie mentioned something about him having a thing about doing anything he's asked."

"Yes, but he still refused. I know he's usually a little off, but today he's especially bad. He was ranting something about eighty thousand mira and a debt he owes someone when I knocked on his door."

"Aha!" Laura snapped her fingers, "well that's how you can do it. That's something else Fie said, that Evander must always honour a debt. Rean, will you permit me to help you?"

"Yes of course, but how?"

"You'll see. Follow me." Laura led Rean back upstairs to Evander's room and then knocked powerfully on his door. "Evander, student of the Devil's Whirlwind Sword School, I, Laura S. Arseid, intermediate level practitioner of the Arseid School of Swordsmanship, do challenge you to a duel!"

"Declined," said Evander through the door, "and seriously? That's your new trick Rean?"

"This has nothing to do with Rean," said Laura coolly, "it is a matter of honour that must be settled between us. I have submitted a formal challenge to you, you will do me a great dishonour if you refuse."

"I'm sorry. But I still must decline. For reasons of my own honour."

"Then if you still profess to have any honour at all, you will pay a forfeit to me to clear the debt your refusal has created between us."

"Wait, what?" Evander opened the door, "what's this? What debt?"

"By refusing my challenge you have created an honour debt between us. You must repay it in a manner of my choosing or I shall know you forever more as a coward and a cur without honour."

"You're that offended by my refusal to duel you?" asked Evander, his voice small and quiet.

"The way of the sword is my life," said Laura by way of answer.

"I never meant to offend you. The way of the sword is not my life, I walk that path so I, and the others around me, may have lives at all. I understand your passion, but I cannot duel you, not yet anyway. Um, I told Rean the other day, but I have an addiction. Fighting you would aggravate it. Please understand. I'll do anything else you ask. I will not let this debt stand between us and I would not have you think less of me. Even if I am a clown sometimes, this is serious to me."

"I don't quite understand. You fought monsters with great skill during our exercise on the first day. Did that not affect you the same way duelling me would?"

"No, I… monsters are different. They don't have… If I get hungry near them I, look, I can't explain." In his mind he remembered the fiend leaning over him in that dungeon, and that rumbling word brother. "I go through life, just barely holding on. Fighting someone as skilled as you might push me over the edge. But I will not leave a debt between us, in spite of it, so name your price."

"Go to the church, as Rean asked you. That is all I ask." Evander shuddered, as if a great chill had descended upon him, and then slumped, burdened by an invisible weight.

"I wouldn't do it as a favour. But for a debt that must be repaid, I'll do as you ask. But please, will you both come with me? I don't think I can face this alone. Not without running."

And so it was resolved, for a debt that must be repaid, Evander would set foot in the house of the Goddess, and learn if she truly had endless love for all her children, even for a leech.