And so the school year ended. Everyone returned home to their lands and manors and villas and townhouses and holds and keeps all over Sorcier.
Everyone except one. Who was a commoner and had none of those things.
With the school-year over, the students had a month, most of the good spring weather of the month of Therendor until Eyre, to enjoy themselves, catch up with their families, be embroiled in scandal, intrigue and vice of their choice.
Poor Rafael Walt, a recent graduate, and now (conscripted) gainfully employed into the Ministry, as well as on probation for formerly being a Dark Magic wielder, did not have this and could at best have maybe four days off during Umbasa Week on the last week of Therendor. He'd have wanted to send letters to Maria, the girl he was… well, not seeing, since he'd been stuck at work, but the term would otherwise have applied. However, in a grievous oversight on one of their parts (probably him, if anything he'd learned watching the teenaged drama of his Academy days were at all accurate), he had neglected to ask her for the name of her hometown so as to be able to send them to her.
Fortunately, he'd learned since his failed attempts at solo vengeance and had spoken to his acquaintance Lord Ascart (who in private he was still glad he was allowed to call Nicol), who had spoken to their mutual acquaintances in the student council, and had returned bearing the news that Keith and Katarina (though if anyone asked, especially Maria, he called them Lord and Lady Claes) knew Maria's hometown and in fact where her house was, and would be glad to carry a message for him, what were friends for, they supported his love! It was a bit embarrassing and comforting, knowing someone was willing to help him in this. More strange since Maria had somehow become quite close to the duke's daughter she had once avoided for fear of being made a subject of her 'insatiable lust'.
Before he'd known her, Maria Campbell had seemed a quiet, studious, diligent girl who had gotten into the Student Council. And then a quiet, studious, diligent girl with a propensity for painfully defending herself and staying to the letter of the rules. And then a quiet, studious, diligent girl with a dry wit and a rather strange aversion to Katarina Claes, the most popular girl in the school, with a macabre and dark perception of things. And then a strangely lonely girl who carried her self-ascribed burden of being a noble bastard with a matter-of-fact grace and dignity interspersed with cynically near-plausible but likely wrong-headed perceptions on the people around her (her description of herself as a likely Claes bastard did not include the information that the duke was madly in love with his wife to such a degree even that woman who was now dead and good riddance was embarrassed for them). And then she'd been that girl he could see himself in, a strange, lighter mirror of his own life, had his loss not been so violent and malicious. The girl he'd joked with and had told about even the smallest fraction of his loss, obfuscated as it had been.
Then she had been the terrifyingly adept girl who could have killed him at any time if she hadn't held back. The dark spirit possessing him had used Dark Magic to riot his feelings into a murderous rage, making that confrontation a bit hazy for him, but he still retained flashes of Maria coming very close to brutalizing him had she not prioritized protecting Katarina and Mary, as well as being equipped with a blunt sword. She had been the girl who'd faced the possessing spirit in her own mind and conquered it. His had fallen into sleep by then, but he had been able to feel the spirit's frustration, then its mounting fear and terror as whatever Maria had done to fight him had worn away at his surety. Heard flashes of a voice mocking the spirit for it' incompetence at vengeance, when all the tools he'd needed had been within reach for more than a year.
In his sleep, just before waking up with a heart feeling lighter than it had ever been in a long time, he had seen a glimpse an angel who had pulled him out of darkness into its embrace.
When he had seen that angel again at the Student Council room, he knew he had to by her side forever.
Unfortunately, real life had a frustrating habit of not realizing the importance of romance!
Still, he had written, asking Maria to write back, and for permission to visit her when the Ministry closed down for the Umbasa Week holidays, as well astelling her how much he missed her and how she was more beautiful than moonlight, although he managed to stop himself before he pulled a Lord Byron and started putting in embarrassing bad poetry. This was passed on to Nicol with many thanks, who had promised it would be passed on to the Claes sibling to bring to Maria.
Three days later, Nicol came to tell him gravely that Maria had never come back home from the Academy.
It was difficult packing up all her clothes when it came time to leave school for the holidays, especially since the windfall of unwanted practical exam uniforms, so Maria had stuck the ones she couldn't bring with her in the student council's storage closet behind boxes of purple flame candles and hoped no one noticed. This had left her with some changes of the uniform with trousers to fit in her suitcase with her pink dresses, formal suit and school materials, which was much more manageable.
This done, she had hitched a ride on a wagon heading for the border, hat on her head, long length of wood in lieu of a saber at her side. At Montrose, the first time she stopped at, she took a moment to send a letter to the Ministry informing them of her location and likely destination, so they wouldn't assume their probationary Dark Magic wielder was trying to leave the country. Then she went shopping for trail food, hardy things like cheese and bread that were more iron than rations, as well an old hunter's recipe of mixing some nuts and dried fruit (fortunately there were still some left over from the winter stores that hadn't gone bad) with honey and making them into bars. That had taken an extra day and a not-insignificant of what little money from her scholarship stipend she'd managed to save.
She'd been about to leave when there'd been an accident. A wagon driver loading his wagon had accidentally had his goods, a barrel of apples, fall and strike him an glancing blow, injury his leg. Fortunately it hadn't been broken, but according to the town doctor he wouldn't be able to ride for some time…
Almen Bunt had been in a lot of pain in his life. After all, life had the foolishness of youth, the foolishness of adulthood and the random foibles of life. This wasn't the first time he'd hurt himself loading his wagon, and every time seemed more painful than the last. Still, he praised the sun there was nothing broken. A pained leg would have him down for days, a week or two at most, but a broken on would have him down for months. He had enough savings to tough it out and Montrose was a close-knit community. His friends and neighbors would help him out. The Clark girl had already volunteered to help him with household chores, which mean the butcher's son, the beekeeper's daughter and a bunch of other young fools would be around to help too.
He was sitting at the Winespring Inn's dining hall, his leg up on a stool and drinking a free mug of ale as he counted his blessings and good friends who would help him through this when the stranger in black approached him. She looked about to set off on a journey, hat already donned.
"Mister Bunt?" she said. "I heard you'd been hurt. I was wondering if I could offer assistance."
"Thank you for the offer miss, but I'm afraid there's nothing much to be done for me," Almen said. "Doctor Jeord has already looked at it and called for ice. He says it's all that can be done right now, right Jeord?"
The man on the other side of the table, who didn't look like a doctor so much as a clerk with his jacket off, nodded. "I'm afraid so. In fact, I wouldn't suggest moving it until two or three beers to dull the pain. With the swelling, it's too soon to wrap it in place."
"I understand, good doctor," the stranger said politely. "However, I offer my assistance nonetheless. You see, I've just come from the Academy, and I thought I would offer my expertise in Medicinal Magic."
Both Almen and the Jeord straightened. If this stranger was from the Academy, then that meant she was a noble! Almen wondered is he should stand and bow. The only noble ladies he was familiar with was Definitely-Not-But-Secretly-Was-A-Lady Claes, who came by for the strawberries and apples, and talked to everyone like she was a commoner like everybody else, which wasn't a very helpful pool of experience to draw upon.
"Er, any assistance you could offer would be most helpful, er, your ladyship," Jeord said.
"Not a lady," she said absently, already kneeling to examine the injury. Almen was thankful it had gotten a wash earlier before Jeord had examined it, feeling incredibly aware of the fact his feet must stink. He kept himself from flinching as she gently touched his leg, where the shin was swollen and Jeord was worried might be cracked.
Suddenly, the pain seemed to drain away like water passing through a hole in his foot. Almen stared in disbelief as before his very eyes the abrasions and raw skin knit themselves, the swelling deflating like a punctured bladder and the color returning to a healthy pink. The ache in his knee he'd been living with for a couple of years now subsided as well, it's lack a surprising relief after he'd resigned himself to living with it for the rest of his life. He let out a moan that was probably impolite for anyone woman except for his wife to hear.
"I'm glad to hear you're feeling better," the mysterious lady said, and Almen felt himself blushing like a boy a quarter his age, not a respected farmer in his fifties. "Doctor, would you examine my handiwork to be on the safe side?"
Hurriedly, Jeord rounded the table, kneeling down after the lady had stood. He stared in disbelief at the healed leg, gently running his hands over them, piking gently, and then a little harder. None invoked the agonizing, fiery pain it had earlier. In fact, it was mildly ticklish. "Incredible!" he said. "Almen, do you think you can stand?"
"Better than I could have this morning," Almen said. Still, he put his foot down gingerly, putting a little weight on it, then a little more until he was standing. He risked a little hop, grinning as his knee didn't scream at him to remember his age. "It doesn't hurt at all!"
"I couldn't find so much as a crack either," Jeord said. "You're not even scratched."
Almen immediately bowed, putting his healed knee to good use. "Thank you, your ladyship!"
"Please, none of that," the woman said, not harshly, but firm. "I am not a lady, merely a traveler along her way."
Almen risked a glance toward Jeord, and their eyes met. Maybe their experience with Definitely-Not-But-Secretly-Was-A-Lady Claes would be helpful after all. "Then, what am I to call you, young miss?" he said as he slowly got up. "And how can I thank you?"
"I am Maria," the Definitely-Not-But-Secretly-Was-A-Lady said. "And I was glad to help. But I must be on my way. I'm heading for the town of Morel, and should be able to get there before dark if I hurry."
"Hurry…? Are you walking, Miss Maria?" Almen said. "Well, if that's the case, if you give me five minutes, I could have my wagon read to take you there. I was going to make a delivery there anyway before I got hurt, and it would be an honor to help you along your way."
"I wouldn't wish to trouble you," Miss Maria said, but hesitantly.
"It's no trouble," Almen said firmly. Definitely-Not-But-Secretly-Was-A-Lady Claes was all right with people being firm, as long as they were polite, so he hoped this lady was too. "You delayed your journey to help an old man. It behooves that old man to do the same."
She tilted her head, pursed her lips, and then glanced to the side, where a suitcase was resting. "Then I thank you for your generosity, kind sir," she said with a bow.
They had, of course, not been alone at the inn when this had happened. People had made a good show of minding their own business, but as soon as Almen Bunt and the stranger left the room, tongues had started wagging.
By the time the two had left the town in Almen's wagon, the rumors had started to spread to the buildings on either side and down to the market.
And so began the legend of the mysterious Lady Maria…