[IS]: Insert song - "Opposing Bloodlines (Castlevania: Rondo of Blood)"
[ISE]: Insert song end

"..."

"..."

"Hey, Emma?"

"Y-Yes...?"

"I probably know the answer to this question, but I'm asking anyways: this wasn't written by mistake, was it?"

"I'm afraid not…"

From across the table, the author of the manuscript that both Class VII students were reading cackled with glee. "So? How did you like it? Oh, please say you loved it! It'd make my world feel so much wider!"

Morgan slowly turned to Emma with a suspicious glare.

"I-I had no part in writing it!" Emma insisted, her face flushed. "In fact, I had no idea Dorothee wrote these sorts of stories until recently!"

The manuscript itself wasn't the issue; rather, it was the genre of choice that was making both proofreaders uncomfortable. That genre? None other than the erotic fantasies detailing the lives and loves of handsome gentlemen.

Dorothee giggled. "The genre of young womanhood is a beautiful thing, is it not?"

"More like a gateway to a world that I wish I never knew existed." Morgan turned over the last page, finally finished with her copy of the story. To the left of her, Emma was still scraping through the last few pages. Humorously, her face was getting so heated from reading that her glasses were starting to fog up.

When looked at objectively, Morgan had to admit that the story itself was rather well-written. Dorothee also proved to be an expert in dressing each scene down to the most minute detail, bringing attention to places that most readers would likely glance over. There was definitely some room for improvement, as was to be expected from a rough draft, but the fixes needed were mostly small tweaks to make each scene flow better. It could pass as a publishable story on its own.

Morgan had considered relaying the above information to Dorothee to make the feedback process as quick and painless as possible, but she bit her lip. She was being contracted to give thoughtful feedback on a story that Dorothee had likely put her entire passion into, and if there was one thing she learned from the past month, it was that she needed to give as much as she took. A passionate project deserved an equally passionate response.

Swallowing her pride, she clapped her hands on her cheeks. "Okay, Dorothee. You want feedback, right? Then I'll give you feedback!"

The girl from across the table snapped to attention. Emma was also stunned by the response to the point where her blush vanished instantly.

"Dorothee, you have a really detail-oriented writing style, that much I can see from just the few chapters you gave me. You brought to attention many small parts that I would have normally glanced over and elevated them to a higher status. I've seen my fair novels, and I can tell you that that's not easy to do. Don't stop that."

Dorothee smiled tentatively, almost knowing that this small bout of praise was about to immediately be followed up by something on the opposing side of the spectrum.

"However!" Morgan proclaimed. "There are some parts that could use some sprucing up to make the scenes flow better, cause as it stands? There are almost too MANY details! And as a reader who has unfortunately had prior experience with this genre, I got bored!"

"B-Bored?!"

Morgan opened up the draft to the middle section and pointed to a passage. "Like here! This part right here is too wordy! You spend so much time on some of the graphic details that you're slowing down the pacing of the scene! Your job as an author isn't just to put your fantasies onto paper; you also have an obligation to draw the reader's attention with every word you write! So tell me this…"

She turned the page over. "How do you expect me to stay invested when you're repeating this exact same phrase in the exact same context multiple times in only a few pages?"

Dorothee adjusted her glasses so she could see the part where Morgan was pointing at. "I thought that some repetition would keep the reader hooked. Reintroducing a phrase they had heard before would get them to pay closer attention to the details."

"That's not a bad strategy," Morgan conceded. "But not when it's used so closely together. Even if you space them out by a few pages, there's a point where you get less mileage out of something the more you keep using it. You know about diminishing returns from economics, right? It's sort of like that. The first time is always the best since that's when it's fresh and new. The second might raise some heads, but it's only the first time the audience recognizes it, so there's no problem. The ones after that point are where things really start to get questionable."

Emma was slightly bewildered at the analogy. An economics principle wasn't the first thing that came to mind when explaining a pitfall in one's writing technique. Even more surprising was that Dorothee appeared to understand where Morgan was coming from.

"So I should try and...experiment with different phrasings, is that it?"

"Pretty much. Variety is the spice of life, as they say. But try not to make things TOO spicy, otherwise you'll end up doing something like this next thing I want to point out…"

'She's still going?!' Emma exclaimed in her head.

Morgan flipped to another page. "Try and refrain from using really long and complex words. They make you sound sophisticated, but remember who your audience is. Out of curiosity, who is the general demographic of your audience?"

"Girls of all ages and classes!" Dorothee proudly declared. "The appeal of boys' love transcends social barriers!"

"Well, I'm also sure that the average consumer won't think to have a dictionary or a thesaurus on hand, so it's better to just spare them the trouble. I get that the language is meant to be old-fashioned considering the setting, but try not to go overboard. I mean, who uses the word 'hirquitalliency' these days?"

The banter kept going on like that for a while. Emma could do little but try and concentrate on proofreading through her share of the rough draft.

…

"...And that's basically it for my feedback! Any other questions?"

Morgan was secretly worried that she may have gone a little overboard with some of the small complaints that she found. However, all those fears were assuaged when Dorothee gave a big, toothy grin and bowed happily. "Thank you so much! I'll be sure to take what you said to heart!"

"D-Don't mention it…" Morgan slumped back into her chair. "Ugh, I'm exhausted."

Emma adjusted her glasses by the corner. "Morgan, do you, er…"

"I don't read boys' love," Morgan immediately replied. "But I have a friend who does. She's been trying to get me hooked for as long as I can remember, and I was never in any position to refuse, so…" She breathed in. "Yeah. I've read my fair share of them."

"But Morgan! You have so much potential!" Dorothee practically jumped at the opportunity to start a conversation. "Which one did you like the most? What was the last one that you read?"

"Uh, well…" Morgan scratched her cheek. "My friend got me a book for my birthday. It was called Falling for Him in a Fortnight."

"No way…!" Dorothee gasped. "Your friend got a copy of THE Falling for Him in a Fortnight?!"

"Is...that a big deal?"

"Only the biggest! That book has been on the list of banned books in Erebonia for years! Only true literary connoisseurs have been able to touch it, much less read it!"

Dorothee suddenly reached across the table to grab Morgan's hands, causing her to yelp. "I simply MUST have your friend's contact information! No, not just that; I NEED to meet with her in person! Is she local? Please tell me if she's somewhere close!"

"Uh, er, personal space? Please?"

"D-Dorothee?" Emma said. "You're starting to make ME feel uncomfortable, too…"

Realizing her actions, Dorothee let go of Morgan's hands and cleared her throat. With her personal space restored, Morgan could finally give her response. "Well, I'm sorry to say this, but it's actually difficult to get a hold of her these days. She's really busy with school and the upcoming Summer Festival, and she's not the kind of person you can just casually ask to have a cup of tea with."

"Is she like a high-ranking noble?" Emma asked out of curiosity.

Morgan nodded her head.

"Oh…"

Upon seeing Dorothee's crestfallen expression, Morgan felt a twinge of sympathy. Then, an idea popped into her head. "Okay, here's what we'll do. Can I keep this copy of your draft?"

Dorothee looked up. "What for?"

"I'll send this copy to my friend by mail," Morgan explained. "I'm sure she can do a better job of proofreading this than I can. I can't arrange a meeting between you two quite yet, so I'll act as the middleman for now. If I'm the one who sends a message, it'll get through."

"You can do that?" Dorothee happily clapped her hands together. "Oh, I'm in your debt, Morgan!"

Emma smiled. "That's very nice of you, Morgan."

"Well, Dorothee gets to have more people look at her work, and my friend gets to read more boys' love." Morgan shrugged her shoulders. "Everyone wins, I guess?"

"Ah, yes. Before I forget…" Dorothee brought out a pen and a piece of paper. "Can I ask for your friend's name?"

Morgan pursed her lips. "I...can't actually reveal that."

"Oh? Why not?"

"...Family reasons," Morgan said. "They're really big on privacy and all that. She does have a pen name that she sometimes uses, though. Would you be satisfied with that?"

Dorothee smiled. "Yes! I have no problem with that!"

"Would you like me to exit the room?"

"Nah, it's not a big deal. I trust you, Emma." Morgan found a spare pen and wrote her friend's pen name on Dorothee's piece of paper. "Her name is Alastor Finnigan. This is how it's spelled."

"Alastor…" Emma cupped her chin and tilted her head. "But that's a male's name, if I recall."

"And that's what makes it so convincing as a pen name."

Dorothee sat down and started to think. "If Miss Alastor is a noble, I should probably write a letter of introduction. Should I keep it short and simple? Would she get offended by that?"

"Ahaha. Try not to overthink it; I'm sure she won't mind." Staring at the copy of Dorothee's draft, Morgan started to think. 'Now to see if I can ask someone to pick this up for me…'

With a small folder containing Dorothee's letter and manuscript in tow, Morgan emerged from the Student Union building. It was almost time for her to meet up with Sara for their weekly remedial lesson, and she figured that the sooner she checked on her instructor's hangover, the better.

Just as she was about to leave the campus, however, an arrogant voice from behind called out to her. "Hey, you."

Morgan frowned. She recognized who this voice belonged to. Turning around, she came face-to-face with Patrick Hyarms of Class I.

"...Patrick." She lowered her posture slightly out of courtesy for his higher social status. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Nrgh…" he grumbled. He was frowning as well, but it didn't appear to be because of her attempt to appeal to someone of his stature. Clearing his throat, he began to speak. "I...wish to apologize for my misconduct last month. Losing my composure like that wasn't befitting of my status as a member of the nobility."

Morgan blinked, briefly surprised that a member of the Four Great Houses had gone out of his way to apologize to her. Even more surprising was that the apology appeared to be genuine.

But as she mulled over what could have driven the noble to give an apology all of a sudden, a thought planted itself into Morgan's mind. Like a small seed, the thought grew rapidly in size and volume.

And then she snorted.

"Wh-What?"

"How long did you practice that in front of a mirror for?"

"Impertinent little…!" Patrick let slip. Upon realizing his comment, he bit his tongue and cleared his throat again. "Er, I mean, how dare you insinuate that about me!"

Morgan could tell from the moment she saw Patrick's frown that something was off about this whole conversation. She had seen that look before on some of her classmates, namely when Jusis and Machias first agreed to a ceasefire on their way to Bareahard. There was something else to this, wasn't there?

"With all due respect," Morgan continued, "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. If you really want to make amends, you would do well to apologize to all of us, starting with Rean."

Patrick's expression changed yet again. Checkmate. She hit him right in the weak spot.

"Th-This has nothing to do with Schwarzer!" he insisted.

"And another thing…" Morgan added. "You shouldn't stop at just us. You need to reflect on your behavior with the other students as well. I know for a fact that you're not exactly a favorite after what happened to Alan."

"Don't try to change the subject!" Patrick snapped at her. "Why should I care about what happens to him?"

"Bridget O'Keefe of Class II would beg to differ. I don't know the kind of life that you live, but I DO know that there are ways to show your noble pride without it coming at the expense of others. If you're going to keep holding on to that tantrum of a grudge, then you should reconsider just who it is you're doing this for."

With that last word said, Morgan bowed slightly, her right hand holding the folder and her left hand sticking outwards as if she were curtsying. Then she turned around and walked away, leaving Patrick at a loss for words.

Once she turned the corner and was out of his sight, she immediately broke into a run.

'Did I really just say that?!' she exclaimed in her head.

Oddly enough, the fact that she had given a piece of her mind to a member of the Four Great Houses was the lesser of the two issues in her head. She still hadn't forgiven him for the things he said to her classmates last month, and her talk with Bridget yesterday brought back some lingering sentiments from when she first heard about the Fencing Club incident. Thus, it was only natural for her to be at least a little hostile.

However, to her, what was more pressing than her behavior was her choice of words. It wasn't that long ago that she had been told that exact piece of advice from Brittany back on Bryonia Island, and now she had relayed that same bit of information to someone else. What position was she in to tell others how to act when she had only just started coming to terms with her own desires? Wouldn't it be considered hypocritical of her to point out the flaws of others when she was still dealing with her own flaws?

'Gods, I can be so stupid!' she mentally berated herself. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid!'

She continued to sprint across Trista until she reached the Class VII dormitory. She stopped at the door, taking a brief moment to catch her breath, before entering the building. There, standing in the middle of the lobby doing some stretches, was her instructor.

"Hey, Morgan!" Instructor Sara waved her hand mid-stretch. "Didn't think you'd be back so early!"

Morgan laughed nervously as she waved back. "Ahaha. Well, you know me: always the first to arrive and the last to leave! How're you feeling? You were pretty plastered last night."

Her instructor laced her fingers together and raised her arms above her head. "Heh! Nothing a good night's sleep can't cure! Thanks for walking me back."

"It wasn't just me, though," she replied. "You should also say thanks to Sharon and Instructor Neithardt, if you haven't already."

"Oh, believe me, I'm trying really hard to forget about those two."

"You REALLY don't like them, don't you?"

Sara looked at the door leading to the dining area, where Sharon was presumably preparing tonight's dinner. "We don't see eye-to-eye on a lot of things."

One thing that Morgan noticed was that her instructor had a lot of people she was openly hostile around. Most of these amounted to petty annoyances, like with Vice Principal Heinrich and Instructor Neithardt. But then there were people like Sharon and Claire from the RMP, where it seemed like the animosity ran deeper than surface value. Whatever the reason, Morgan felt that it wasn't her place to pry, which is why she never asked.

Sara shook her head. "But that's neither here nor there. What do you say? Ready to head out?"

Morgan nodded. This would make for a good distraction. "Let's do it!"

"Wolf on your left!"

Sara pointed her gun to her left and pulled the trigger, firing a bullet from her orbal gun into the jaw of an incoming wolf monster.

"Good awareness!" Sara called out. She then looked ahead at the last remaining monster. "Morgan, follow my lead! Let's try a Rush attack!"

"Got it!"

Sara aimed her gun at the monster. "Let's go, Diablo!" Three bullets charged with purple lightning flew forward and hit the monster, paralyzing it momentarily. Then, she and Morgan charged forward with their weapons stretched outwards. Their combat orbments shining a bright light, they simultaneously slashed at the monster on either side, felling it in an instant.

Morgan took one last look around their surroundings to make sure there weren't any enemies left. "And that's the last of them."

"Nice work as always," Sara commented, putting away her weapons. "But you need to place more faith in the ARCUS's capabilities."

"Hm?" Morgan tilted her head.

Her teacher held up her ARCUS. "I could already sense through our combat link that there was a wolf on my left. Your shouting was pretty arbitrary all things considered. You should save your voice for when it really counts."

"R-Right." Morgan looked down. "Sorry, Instructor."

"Don't be." Sara gave a reassuring grin. "If anything, keeping your cool and letting everyone know what's going on is a great skill for a field leader to have. I'm just saying that it isn't as necessary when there's just two people. In larger groups? That's where you can keep everyone informed."

The violet-haired instructor stretched her arms. "Right, so now that we're all warmed up, what do you want to do next?"

"Hm…"

To make up for the reckless behavior she exhibited during the previous field study, Morgan had to take remedial lessons with Instructor Sara every Sunday for a month. The catch was that Sara had free reign over what sort of exercises that would constitute these lessons so long as she could report that Morgan was taking the necessary steps to improve herself. So, in their collective agreement that the remedial lessons were pretty much useless, Sara and Morgan decided to turn their Sunday lessons into special one-on-one training sessions. First, they would start by clearing the highway of monsters; then, they would transition to whatever they felt like doing for the rest of the afternoon, be it a series of friendly sparring bouts or a field lecture of what Morgan could do to improve her combat capabilities.

This time, however, Morgan had something different in mind.

"There's something that I want to try. Can I run the idea by you real quick?"

"Shoot."

"I want to make my own special technique."

"Special technique?" Sara was slightly confused. "You mean like your skills?"

Morgan had already shown Sara her old skills, such as Galeforce and Ignis, during their past training bouts. Those could already be considered to be her special techniques, but Morgan shook her head. "I was thinking something along the lines of Laura's Radiant Blade Dance or Rean's Flame Slash. Sort of like an ace up my sleeve."

"Ah. Now I get it." Her instructor crossed her arms. "Wait, you mean you hadn't thought of one already?"

"I didn't think there was a reason to until now," Morgan admitted. "But now that the rest of the class is starting to come together as a group, I need to start pulling my own weight so I don't get left behind."

"Personally, I think you're pulling your own weight enough as is, but…" Sara muttered to herself before shaking her head. "Alright. If you're sure about this, then let's go with that. So? You got an idea of what you want to do?"

"Sort of. But first, I need a target."

"I can help you with that."

Instructor Sara snapped her fingers, and a familiar scarecrow phased into existence. At this point, Morgan was no longer surprised by the automation suddenly appearing out of nowhere.

"Does that thing just follow you everywhere, or…?"

"Not everywhere. I brought it along with me just this once for today. I figured if you didn't have anything you wanted to do, we could use this for some target practice instead. But hey! Everything worked out in the end!"

Morgan readied her axe and pointed it at the combat shell. She put her hand on her chest and took a deep breath to calm herself. Once her emotions were settled, she silently called to the power that lay dormant within her, causing flames to start emanating from her body.

"So just to make sure we're clear…" Instructor Sara called out to her. "What exactly is it that you're going to be doing?"

"First, I'll use Ignis to boost my overall attack strength. Then, I'll use Galeforce to get in quick and attack with everything I've got!" Morgan dropped to a low stance, looking as if she were about to start running. "Permission to strike, Instructor?"

"Denied."

The response surprised her. Did she hear that correctly? "What?"

"I said your permission has been denied." Instructor Sara was shaking her head in disappointment. "Call off your power right now."

Morgan felt slightly hurt by her instructor's curtness, but she nevertheless followed her directions in making her flames subside. "You didn't even let me try it…"

"Well, sorry, but I've got a responsibility to make sure my student doesn't get herself hurt. Now, would you care to explain why you thought such a dangerous combination would be a good idea?"

"Dangerous?"

Instructor Sara held up her fingers. "Ignis requires some concentration on your end to activate it, and it only lasts for so long. Galeforce lets you go really fast, but it makes you exhausted after just one use." She wiggled the two fingers she held up. "I don't doubt that that combination would result in a powerful attack, but all that's gonna do in the end is make you really, really tired. So tell me: is that payoff gonna be worth it in a real fight?"

When she put it that way, even Morgan could see that it was a dumb idea. She was ashamed that she had even thought of that in the first place. "...Point taken. Then, what SHOULD I do?"

"Well, that's the thing. This is YOUR special technique we're talking about here. If I gave you too many pointers, it would kind of defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?"

Her instructor scratched the back of her head. "Okay, let's start with the basics. What exactly are you looking for when you perform your special technique?"

"What am I...looking for?"

"How should I put this…" Sara took a moment to think about her next response. "When your classmates use their own techniques, there's usually something that's associated with them. It's sort of like...a personal goal they want to pursue. Rean, Laura, and Jusis want to show off the most powerful technique of their respective fighting styles. Fie wants to end a fight as quickly as possible in the way she's most comfortable with. Even people like Elliot, Machias, and Alisa that don't have combat experience want to push their orbal weapons to the fullest, which is why they're starting to come up with crafts of their own."

Morgan nodded in understanding. "What about you?"

"Me?" Sara brought out her orbal gun and sword. "I guess my game plan would be...subduing."

"Subduing?" Morgan echoed.

"Well, I've been sort of conditioned to not kill everything on sight unless I have to. Comes with the territory." She held up her gun. "Diablo's bullets can stun the enemy without outright killing them, like you saw with the monster we fought earlier. And if I DO have to get my hands dirty?" She raised her other hand to brandish her sword. "That's why I have Pain with me. So now that you know all that, what about you? What is something that you want to achieve when you use your special technique?"

"Hmm…"

Morgan got to thinking. What were the goals that she wanted to achieve? She quickly began listing down her aspirations like items on a checklist. Morgan wanted to do well in school. However, academics were largely irrelevant to the task at hand. Morgan wanted to help ensure Class VII's success. Again, that was irrelevant and seemed more of a general objective than a personal one. Morgan wanted to become a tactician in the army like her father. Was there enough of a feasible connection between that and coming up with her own special technique? She struggled to find one. Morgan wanted to be more honest about herself to others.

She stopped when she came upon the most recent objective. Morgan had made strides to accomplish that goal by coming clean about parts of her background, but due to the gaps in her memory, it was difficult to answer certain questions. Her classmates, bless their souls, were considerate enough to give her some space so that she could reveal her secrets however she wished, but now the ball was in her court again, so to speak. How should she go about showing the others who she is when she didn't even know everything about herself?

Her mind wandered back to her encounter with Patrick. She knew that she was far from the most qualified individual to give someone advice, but regardless of whether or not her actions were considered hypocritical, someone had to remind him that there were consequences to his behavior. To that end, it was better if that person had little to no ties to Erebonia so that there wouldn't be anything large at stake, and Morgan happened to be the right person for the job. For some reason, whether it was through pure coincidence or someone else's deliberate selection, Morgan always managed to find her way into some sort of predicament and end up helping those involved in some capacity. Sure, she always knew that she could be shamelessly self-driven, but it had gotten to a point where it was less of a personality quirk and more like second nature.

In that moment, Morgan had an epiphany. She was someone who had no ties to Erebonia, and what little ties that remained of her previous life consisted of her scattered memories, the Mark at the small of her back, and her father's old book. Trying to remember her previous identity had once been a primary goal, but now it was secondary to the identity she had built up for herself over the past few months. The past didn't matter so much, not when she had something to live for in the present.

Was that reason not sufficient enough for her?

"I need you to promise me something before you go."

"Promise you something?" Morgan echoed.

"As I'm sure you're aware, my position at the academy is only an ornamental one. Aside from some connections, I have little say in how the school is run. Thus, when you leave for Trista, you will be on your own for the first time. Not even the Vanders will be there to guide you.

"But do not fret! There are many young people like you who search for self-assurance at the academy. And so, as you commingle with your fellow students, I want you to take this opportunity to really search for not just what you are, but WHO you are."

He gave her an earnest look. "Promise us that you will never stop searching for yourself."

As she remembered those words and the events that occurred over the past few weeks, her thoughts converged into one overarching desire.

"...I want to confirm my identity," she eventually said. "I want to show others that this is something only I can do. That this is what I'm capable of."

Morgan looked up hesitantly at Instructor Sara.

"There isn't a right answer for this, you know," her instructor said softly. "But if that's what you really want, then I won't stop you."

"Yes." Morgan nodded her head. "This is what I want."

Sara nodded her head in response. "Okay, then. Now that you have a goal in mind, how are you going to achieve it?"

Morgan reached into one of her pouches and pulled out her personal orbment. Considering the risk-reward ratio of Galeforce, she decided to forgo using that skill entirely and instead focused on seeing what she could do with Ignis. Closing her eyes momentarily, she started piecing together a sequence of attacks, pulling together different parts of her existing techniques and trying to combine them into something cohesive. She had to be careful that she didn't get too overzealous lest Instructor Sara give her another earful.

An idea for a technique surfaced in her mind, but she couldn't help but feel that something was missing. Morgan shook her head. She could worry about that later; right now, she needed to win Instructor Sara's approval.

She took a deep breath in. "Here we go…" [IS]

First, she activated Ignis once again. Once the violet-colored flames had appeared all over her body, she focused her magical power into her orbment, letting her thoughts form the shape of the spell she wanted to cast.

'I'll start with something simple for now.' She waved her hand in a spherical motion. 'Trap the enemy so they won't have a chance to escape. Then, if I make the current last long enough to keep it suspended…'

As her right hand moved around, streams of wind began to congregate themselves around the scarecrow, swirling around and around until they condensed into a spherical prison. Morgan then raised her hand steadily upwards, causing the sphere and the scarecrow inside it to raise into the sky. Finally, she clenched her hand as if she were holding a glass, which caused the wind sphere to collapse from the sides and erupt into a miniature tornado. The current from below kept the target in place as the winds ravaged it on all sides, but as the spell neared its end, the combat shell slowly floated back down to the ground.

"I think that looks good," Morgan remarked as she dispelled her flames momentarily.

"That was it?" Instructor Sara asked. "I was thinking you'd do something with a bit more pizzazz."

"That was just a test run." Morgan drew her axe and entered her casting stance. "THIS is the real deal."

Activating Ignis one more time, Morgan started the process all over again. The fortunate thing was that it was easier for her to formulate her spell after having already cast it once, and she stored the necessary magical energy required to use it into her orbment. She charged forward and stabbed the combat shell with her axe before thrusting her orbment into its body. Maintaining the image of her spell in her head, she gave the order to fire, and her target was imprisoned in a sphere of turbulent winds.

But Morgan wasn't finished yet. She made an underhand throwing motion with the hand that held her orbment, causing the spherical prison to float into the air. Then, she readied her axe by her side. Using her Dolphin Slash technique, Morgan leapt upwards while attacking, slicing the wind sphere in two and causing it to erupt into a tornado. As the winds raged around her, she was kept suspended high in the air by the current below her. With only a few seconds remaining before the spell reached its end, she poured the rest of her magical energy into her axe, depleting her flames completely but increasing her weapon's power.

"Go...down!"

With a mighty blow, she slashed at the scarecrow with enough force to knock it out of the tornado and send it plummeting to the earth below. Meanwhile, the current subsided, and Morgan slowly floated back down until her feet touched the ground.

"And she sticks the landing!" she proudly proclaimed. Though she was exhausted on the inside from using Ignis two times in a row, that didn't stop Morgan from twirling her weapon and striking a pose to signal the end of her demonstration.

Instructor Sara started applauding with a content expression on her face. "Nicely done," she complimented Morgan. "Combining orbal arts and melee strikes together. That's something that screams 'you', alright. So you cool with that? That's what you want your special technique to be?"

"It's not the most optimal it can be right now," Morgan admitted, "but I think this is the best that I can do at the moment." As she said that, Morgan quickly elongated her axe and planted it in the ground to lean on before her legs could give way.

Her instructor gave a little chuckle. "Let's take a break first. Wait for you to recharge some of that energy. Then, I want you to try it again. We won't be heading back until you feel it's fully optimized."

"You got it." [ISE]

"Oh, and one other thing…" Instructor Sara pointed to Morgan's lower body. "You might want to buy a pair of shorts before you show this to the others. Just in case."

"Uh…" Morgan tilted her head in confusion. "Why?"

Her instructor gave her an odd look. "Well, you jumped really high, and because of the wind, everything started waving around, including your clothes."

"Yeah, that's to be expected…" Morgan waited for Sara to get to the point.

"Do I have to spell it out for you? I'm pretty sure most people wouldn't want to know what you're wearing under there."

"Under where?"

As soon she said those specific words, Morgan's eyes slowly began to widen in horror. "Oh. OH."

Her instructor couldn't help but give a teasing sneer. "Dark purple, huh? Pretty fancy."

"H-Hey! Be quiet!" Morgan clenched the hem of her skirt with her left hand. "What if someone's listening to us?"

"Hm?" Sara put her hands behind her head. "Whoever do you mean? It's just us out here, and your ARCUS can't record a message unless you're speaking into it."

Morgan opened her mouth to speak, but she stopped before she could say anything. "Never mind. Forget I said anything."

At that moment, an ARCUS began to ring.

"And speaking of the ARCUS! Let me answer this."

Instructor Sara retrieved her orbment and opened it to respond to the call. "Instructor Valestein speaking...oh, Rean? Hm? What's this? You're missing me already? ...Huh? You want to use the combat shell? Well, I'm sort of using right now. Think you can wait, oh...half an hour or so?

"Check with George. I saw him tinkering around with one of the older models a few days ago."

"...Actually, try checking with George. I saw him tinkering around with one of the older models a few days ago. Sound good? Great! Have fun, little wunderkind!"

Admittedly, Morgan felt slightly annoyed that her instructor had copied her answer almost word for word, but she managed to keep a straight face.

"Nice save." Her instructor put her ARCUS away. "Was George really doing that?"

"Positive. Saw it for myself when I gave him the sepith I collected from Bryonia. But why would Rean want to use one all of a sudden?"

"Probably training, I guess." A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "Ooh! What if he's training with a special someone? Makes me wanna go back early to see if we can catch him."

"Is this really the time to be gossipping?"

"You know what? You're right! Break time's over!"

"Already?!"

Without another moment to spare, the training session resumed once more.

"Kupweeeh!" Morgan collapsed onto the sofa on the first floor of the Class VII dorm, too tired to even walk up to her room. Instructor Sara, meanwhile, had left to report this week's lesson to the academy. "So exhausted…"

Someone giggled from behind her. "Heehee. I'm certain that you put up an excellent showing."

Sharon placed a cup and saucer on the low table in front of her. "Here. This tea should help soothe your adrenaline, Lady Morgan."

Morgan was admittedly more of a coffee person, but that didn't mean that she didn't know when to appreciate a good cup of tea. "Thanks, Sharon."

She took a whiff of the amber-colored liquid in the cup. To her surprise, she recognized the smell. "This aroma...is this lavender?"

"Right on the mark!" Sharon praised her with a smile. "You have a keen sense of smell."

"I know someone who smells like lavender. Maybe that's why I recognize it."

"My, what a coincidence! I used to know someone like that as well."

"Really?" That piqued Morgan's curiosity. "When did that happen?"

Sharon let out an oddly vague chuckle. "Well, I wasn't always the Reinford family's maid. I met quite a number of colorful characters in the past, and one of them happened to favor lavender as her blend of choice. Unfortunately, we only interacted with each other in passing, and I was too preoccupied with my own duties to sit down and talk."

"Heeeh…" It seemed that the Reinford family maid was also among the individuals with a mysterious past. As intrigued as Morgan was, she remembered she had a cup of tea that needed drinking. She took a sip and let the liquid sit in her mouth before swallowing. "Mmm. It tastes good."

"Always a pleasure to serve." Sharon bowed respectfully. "Ah, but before I forget, I should let you know that a student came by the dormitory earlier in search of you while you were out."

"Really?" Morgan asked. "I don't think I had to meet anyone today."

"She was a student from Class II," Sharon further elaborated. "Her name was Bridget O'Keefe."

"Oh, Bridget!" Morgan's eyes widened. "Did she need anything?"

"She merely wished to thank you. Apparently, you gave her some advice yesterday, and just this afternoon, she was able to clear up some misunderstandings with a friend of hers."

Morgan knew immediately what that could have meant. Her mouth broke into a grin. "Looks like Rean pulled through. I'll need to pay a visit to Bridget later."

She finished her tea and set her cup on the saucer. "Thanks again for the tea. Is there anything I can help you with around the dorm? Maybe I can help you prepare dinner?"

"Oh?" Sharon raised an eyebrow as she reached down to take the cup and saucer from the table. "Are you certain? If I recall correctly, the others told me that you can't cook."

"Well, yeah, I can't…" Morgan admitted. "But that doesn't mean that I don't know the basics. I can do things like cutting up the dry ingredients. It's just the actual mixing and cooking that I can't do."

"Hmm…" Sharon hummed to herself. "Can you come this way, please?"

Morgan followed the maid through the open double doors leading to the dining area and the kitchen.

"The other day, a butler named Celestin from the upper-class dormitory gave me a recipe for a dish called 'curry'," Sharon explained. "I placed an order for some of the necessary spices at the general store, so I'll need to head over there and pick those up. In the meantime, I would appreciate it if you could help me with this…"

The maid waved her hand at the assortment of raw ingredients that were laid out on the countertop, including potatoes, carrots, onions, garlic, and a slab of red meat. Additionally, all of the vegetables had their outer layers peeled off.

"As you can see, I have just finished peeling the vegetables. I assume you already know how to cut them, but let me give you a short demonstration…"

Sharon grabbed a knife and pulled one of each vegetable from their respective piles. Then, she started cutting each vegetable in a distinct manner. She repeatedly halved the potato until it was left in medium-sized chunks, chopped the carrot into small circular slices, diced the onions, and flattened the garlic before cutting it further.

"Of course, you don't have to copy everything that I do…" Sharon said once she was finished cutting. "How big or how small you want to make them is up to you. Cut the vegetables, then sort them accordingly. Can you do this for me?"

Morgan nodded. "Of course! Leave it to me."

"Wonderful." The maid smiled. "I shouldn't take too long at the general store, so I should be able to join you soon. And don't worry about the meat for now; I can handle that part later."

After moving the meat to another location, Sharon washed her hands and took her leave. Now it was just Morgan all by herself.

"Okay, then…" Morgan laced her fingers together and stretched them outwards. "Let's get this work done-zo!"

Morgan grabbed the knife that Sharon had used and immediately got to work on the potatoes, chopping them in the same way that Sharon did.

She remembered the first time she held a cooking knife in this world. She was understandably nervous back then, given how the sharp edge of the blade reminded her of a sword, but she had managed to swallow her fears by focusing on the task at hand.

Of course, it helped that she had guidance to keep her from being distracted. The person that was assigned to overseeing her progress was a stern woman who taught her the importance of discipline and precision when it came to cooking. However, despite her instructor's strictness, she never gave Morgan anything that she couldn't handle.

The problems came when Morgan followed her instructions to the letter and still messed up.

The older woman sighed at Morgan's latest attempt. "This is the third time you've handed in something so subpar. And you call yourself Her Highness's personal attendant?"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Fauna…" Morgan whimpered. "But I followed the instructions...every last one…"

"It seems you leave me with little choice." Fauna took Morgan's bowl and tossed the contents into the sink. "Show me how you prepared this dish. I will observe you myself."

"O-Okay…"

Morgan did as she was told and grabbed a fresh head of cabbage. Her other hand trembled as she took hold of a knife and held it atop the cabbage. Taking a deep breath in, she sliced the green vegetable in two.

"You're being too careful with your movements!" the older woman snapped at Morgan as she cut. "You cannot afford to be hesitant when holding a knife."

"B-But it's sharp…"

"Your mind is your greatest adversary. If you become so frightened of the prospect of harming yourself, the chances of it happening will only increase. Here. Watch carefully at what I do."

Morgan handed Fauna the blade and carefully observed the older woman's movements, which were far more reserved.

"Keep your hands and arms in like this. Do you see this?" Fauna's arms were tucked in close to her body. "Always make sure to return to this position. Keep the knife at this height, no higher than your knuckles, so that you don't risk cutting yourself. Use your thumb instead of your whole hand to push the cabbage in so you don't have to constantly reposition yourself with every slice."

Fauna set the knife back down. "Now you try."

"Y-Yes, Ms. Fauna…"

Taking another part of the cabbage, Morgan used the older woman's technique. Slowly but surely, the pace at which she was taking the vegetables and cutting them was quickening. In almost no time at all, she had finished preparing all the ingredients.

"How...did I do?" she sheepishly asked.

Fauna's expression remained impassive. "There were still moments where you were overly cautious, but considering the state you were in at the beginning, your adaptability is commendable. It would do you some good if you were more assertive, however."

"As...sertive?"

"You seem to forget that you're not just any normal servant. Her Highness could have chosen anyone, but instead she picked you. It wouldn't do well for her image if the person that she handpicked was viewed as meek; you need to carry yourself with as much dignity and grace as she does if you wish to live up to your title."

"I will...try."

"You either do or do not," Fauna said sternly. "There is no room to try."

"Then…" Morgan took a deep breath. "I will do it. For her sake...and mine."

Fauna nodded and handed her a wooden stirring spoon. "Well said. Now let us see if you can back up your words."

Taking the spoon into her hands, Morgan turned on the oven and dumped all the ingredients into a pot of boiling water. With someone there to help her, as well as a goal to fulfill, she felt like she could handle anything at that moment.

Unfortunately, that moment was short-lived, for a familiar chill started to run up her spine. The liquid began to turn a sickly red color.

Morgan reached out to grab another potato, only to find that the pile was now empty. Shrugging her shoulders, she moved on to chopping the carrots.

Ever since then, Morgan was strictly relegated to preparing raw ingredients and serving meals. For some reason, whenever she tried to progress any further than that, she would instantly ruin the dish. As Morgan had disclosed to Fie months ago, she didn't know why this kept happening, and her scattered memories didn't provide any useful information either. She had often joked to others that she was probably cursed by some god of cooking, but the more she said that, the more she began to believe it.

All that she did know, however, was that this "curse" always came with a chill up her spine and a sound only she could hear. Furthermore, it didn't limit itself to just household occurrences; whenever Morgan felt overly emotional or angry, she would feel those same reactions flaring up from within her. She had long pondered over whether there could be any possible combat applications, but the instances where they occurred were too infrequent to warrant any serious observation. Either way, it caused her more problems than anything.

Morgan heard the sound of the door opening behind her. "Is that you, Sharon?" she called out.

"Indeed. I have returned, Lady Morgan." Sharon walked into her peripheral vision to set a collection of jars that presumably held spices on the countertop. "Oh my! You work quicker than I had expected!"

"Huh?" Morgan looked at her pile of carrots...or rather, the empty space where there was once a pile of carrots. She had been so engrossed in her reminiscence, she failed to notice that she was already halfway through her last carrot. "Guess I still got the hang of it."

"This certainly saves me a lot of time," Sharon remarked. "I will take care of the garlic. Then, I will work on preparing the meat."

Morgan nodded. "Sure. Then I'll dice these onions in the meantime."

A small giggle escaped from Sharon's lips. "You read my mind. We make quite the pair in more ways than one, don't we?"

An oddly vague statement, Morgan thought. Naturally, she was compelled to give a just-as-vague response. "And what do you mean by that? Did your employer ask you to look into each of our backgrounds?"

"Heavens, no!" Sharon replied almost immediately, which was a likely indicator that she was telling the truth. "I was only referring to our shared knowledge of serving others. I could tell from how you worry over my workload that you once had to do similar things." She stopped cutting her garlic momentarily to look at Morgan. "Am I correct in assuming that?"

"...You're not wrong." Morgan sliced an onion in half. "But it's been over a year since the last time I wore a uniform, and I doubt I can do even half of the things that you can."

"Heehee." Sharon giggled softly. "While I'm flattered that you hold me in high regard, you shouldn't downplay your own qualities, Lady Morgan."

"You know, I've been wondering…" Morgan continued. "Why do you keep calling me 'Lady'? We're the same social status, and you don't have an issue with addressing some of the others with only their first names."

The maid smiled. "As I'm sure you're aware, politeness towards the people that you serve is part of the maid's code of honor. With that said, the majority of your classmates have insisted that I drop the formalities, but I am not so carefree as to forget my place. Therefore, I made a compromise. Those of noble birth or similar standing, I will address them as such without question. Those that are neither, however, I will only address formally until they ask me to stop."

"Then I might as well say this now…" said Morgan. "You can just call me by my first name."

"That would be difficult, considering your lineage…"

Morgan stopped cutting her onion. That remark set off alarms in her head. "How so?"

Sharon feigned a gasp. "Oh, am I mistaken? I could have sworn that I heard Fie mentioning you were a descendant of foreign royalty."

"That's…" Morgan looked away. "Not...exactly wrong…"

"All the more reason, then, to give you the respect that you deserve."

"I prefer my respect to be earned with my own hands."

"You've already earned mine, Lady Morgan."

"I'm going back to cutting. Let me know if you need anything else."

"As you wish."

The two of them went back to preparing the ingredients without uttering any more words.

Author's note: Another chapter finished! I had originally intended for this one to be longer, but my progress was hindered my IRL mishaps. I still think this came out well.

For this chapter, I incorporated the settings for some of the optional bonding events for the free day but replaced Rean's presence with Morgan, namely Emma's and Sara's. Additionally, the time has finally come for Morgan to get her own special technique, called an "S-Craft" in the Kiseki series. It hasn't been perfected yet, hence the distinct lack of a name, but I hope I managed to adequately describe the basic concept of the attack.

The next chapter will be more drama-oriented, and as a quick heads-up, I will be changing a key aspect of a certain character that is involved in the story event coming up. More on that when that happens. Until then, stay safe and stay healthy! (*⌒▽⌒*)