As Allura studied Camilla's blatantly irritated expression, she mused--not for the first time--how she had picked both the best, and the worst, family for a Circle refugee.

Any other tower mage and they would have at least attempted to feign understanding. Camilla, however, was as reckless as a mere apprentice when it came to her family. The way she'd crossed her arms over her chest, fingers digging into her forearms as her coal-gray eyes narrowed in distaste told Allura everything she needed to know about the woman's feelings regarding her most recent order--and about how willing she was to follow them. It was as gratifying as it was frustrating.

"The ceremony--"

"You said you'd wait until next year," Camilla interrupted. "With the current state of the war, you promised you would wait that long until graduation."

Allura sprawled her fingers over her desk with a slow sigh, reminding herself that it was a mother's fear that forced Camilla's hand--not mere disrespect. "That was before the Circle showed itself."

"It was obvious from the beginning they were involved," Camilla argued. "Thalon is too small to have held the empire back this long without outside reinforcement, regardless of their magical strength. There's no reason to change your mind simply because they've played their hand."

"It's exactly why I should. How long do you think an applicant could defend herself against a Circle mage?"

Camilla pursed her lips. "She won't need to."

"You cannot guarantee that," Allura stated, another sigh building in her chest. "Yesterday proved as much. Had your son not been present, the outer wards would have shattered under that spell. And while we had the manpower to handle such an attack, given how many of our own are away there is no guarantee that we'll be so lucky next time. And if they make it through, who do you think would be in more danger of disappearing in the chaos? A girl the Circle has held before, and recently sent a mage to check on? Or a random civilian?"

"The Academy--"

"Serves as a basic education for aspiring mages. Those professors cannot prepare her for this--that is the job of a mentor. And while one-on-one tutoring could be arranged, there is something to be said for experience. Should her first true taste of combat as a mage be against an opponent of Circle caliber? Or should it be against an E-Rank monster?"

Camilla said nothing.

"Besides, she is thirteen, nearing fourteen. Any other applicant under any other circumstances would have graduated with the prior class."

"We think she's nearing fourteen," Camilla shot back. "And only because we set her birthday as the date she came into our care. We cannot know for certain, because of everything she's already been through. Elysia could be nearing twelve for all the information we have. She is not any other applicant."

"No. She is a survivor who deserves the chance to accumulate the power to make decisions for herself. To defend herself. I've no intention of stealing that from her. Their team won't be registered for any exams until after the war ends--leaving them no risk of imperial oversight. They won't be drafted and will only be given jobs accepted through our channels instead of the guilds'. This is how she'll stay free, Camilla, now and in the future."

For a moment, the mage looked as if she might continue the argument. Then, slowly, the tension drained from her shoulders as rose a hand. Her palm rubbed against her temple. "Say we do this. Say she graduates--who will be her mentor? I have the right to ask that much, do I not?"

"Vidar LeVain."

The tension returned as Camilla's hand froze. "LeVain?"

"Sir LeVain--"

"Is Eclipse! And a noble," she interrupted. "El barely understands what nobility is, let alone how to talk to them."

"All the more reason for LeVain to take her," Allura replied. Her fingers drummed against her desk, drilling patience into her thinning nerves. "She cannot escape interacting with the peerage--not when she's been making such important friends. Lord Kazin will ensure that his heir finds ways to rub elbows with every noble between here and the capital. Sir LeVain will be able to teach her what she needs and cover for her when she's unable to socialize. Unless you wish me to separate them..."

"No, no..." Camilla shook her head. "It--she's too closed off. She'd never trust strangers the way one needs to trust their team. It has to be Idris and Salia."

"Then their mentor must be LeVain. He is the highest ranked mage we have who was able to escape enlisting--both in power and blood. And likely the only one of his caliber willing to take on apprentices."

"But his personality--"

"He is easier on children than he is on adults. Has a daughter himself back at his home estate, as I understand it. And I'll have a word with him myself before the ceremony. You've nothing to fear in him."

Allura could almost feel the fight drain from Camilla as she reluctantly dropped her arm with a shallow bow of her head. "Then...I suppose, I understand. Thank you for the forewarning. I will deliver the news to Rhom when we return home."

"Good luck. And...give Sorrel my well-wishes. He will be rewarded after his recovery."

Camilla clicked her tongue. "I'd prefer a punishment. Rewarding him will just make him do it again," the woman complained. Her tone betrayed her pride, however, as buried as it was beneath the motherly concern. "I still think this should regulate him to a desk."

"I'm looking into what I can do about that," Allura agreed. "He might have already made a full-recovery, but there is no need for that to be reported. It all depends on what those from outside of the tower report to their own forces about the incident."

Camilla nodded, her frown turning thoughtful. "...did that archer girl come by earlier?"

Bemusement curled Allura's lips as she raised a hand to cover her mouth. "Ah. Lady Yasmine. Yes, she did. Gave a full report on how heroic Sorrel was."

"Oh." Camilla blinked, awareness flickering to life in her eyes. "...I see. Is...she staying here long?"

"That's to be seen," Allura hedged.

"...and she's fae?"

"They're children, Camilla. Don't think too deeply into it."

"You're right," the woman sighed. "As always. Thank you."

A few short words later, Allura was alone in her office. She wandered to the back window, settling her arm along the frame as she watched those milling around the base of the tower. She had an hour, if that, before LeVain would arrive and she would have to convince him.

Hopefully, he would accept.

The Night Stalker, as she heard so many call him, had never been a particularly agreeable man. She'd be lucky if he didn't threaten desertion.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time. Nor, likely, the last.

꧁༺ ༻꧂

In the end, Sorrel was given a two month's leave to recover from the events at the gate. From the whispers Elysia caught between Camilla and Rhom, General Allura had argued for more, but Sorrel had made too strong of an impression during his time in the imperial forces.

"It's all politics," Camilla complained. Her tone treated the word like the vilest curse. "They likely hope, due his talent, that with enough exposure he can be bribed towards pledging allegiance to the emperor, instead of the tower. Proper accomplishments could be heavily rewarded--and he can only get those serving on the field."

"He's just a teenager," Rhom argued. "What accomplishmen--"

"Sorrel's a teenager who warded off an eighth-circle assault on Whistrial with only his body. I imagine they look at him and wonder what he could do as an adult in the royal guard. Rumors say the crown prince isn't..."

Camilla had moved further from the doorway Elysia had been eavesdropping behind, but she'd heard enough.

The Hanoai Empire, it seemed, was no different than the Circle when it came to using those in its service. She'd been inclined to think well of the emperor and his since they were Aarin's family, but perhaps her impulse had been wrong.

Evidence implied there had to be some affectionate ties between them, given he was the only accomplished mage his age to escape the draft. But, then again, he didn't go to the capital--not even once. In fact, Aarin didn't even seem to leave the city after war was declared.

Elysia would have known if he had.

"Shouldn't you be on your way to class?"

For a moment, she considered not responding. Most of the time, when she followed Aarin about his tasks--learning as much from him as she did about him--he refused to acknowledge her. That was, unless it got too late. Then he'd irritably order her home, before departing himself. From what she'd gathered, he seemed to have quarters in the tower itself, so perhaps he was merely concerned she would follow him onto restricted floors. She wouldn't have.

At least, she had no current intentions to.

She shook her head.

Aarin sighed and snapped his book shut. "Don't lie. They're announcing the graduating teams today, are they not?"

She blinked, surprised he knew. Those with the age and qualification to graduate, who had passed their end of term exams, would be expected to report to a different room when they arrived at the tower. There, they would be pulled out by their new mentors--officially becoming Tower Apprentices, not applicants.

Elysia had been shocked--not unpleasantly so--when Camilla told her that her name would be amongst those called aside. She'd expected that their run-in with the Watcher would have delayed their graduation even further, not accelerated it. But, apparently she'd been wrong. Idris had been ecstatic. It was all he would talk about for weeks.

Her opinion fell more inline with Salia's feelings about the matter--wariness. There had to be more reasons than their skill for graduating them despite all the arguments that had previously been given against it.

"It's this afternoon."

At her response, Aarin raised a brow. She detected the faintest bit of sarcastic amusement as he waved his book at her. "I thought you denied that you're supposed to be in class."

Ah. She'd been caught.

Heat brushed her face as Aarin shook his head, before tucking his book under his arm and turning away. When she didn't immediately follow, he glanced over his shoulder.

"Well? Are you coming or not?"

What?

Was he giving her permission to follow along? Or..oh, he was leading her back to the tower, wasn't he?

Elysia hurried after him. "I'll come."

He spared her a glance, before looking away. His free hand reached up to grasp the edge of his hood and tug it up, hiding his expression from view.

"You've been talking more."

Was she? Elysia thought back through their interactions. She did tend to use words more with Aarin than anyone else.

"You wanted me to."

He was silent for a moment, before sighing. "You shouldn't do something just because I ask."

Something heavy settled in her chest as she dropped her eyes. "Oh...I won't--"

Aarin groaned. "I didn't mean don't talk. I meant...don't just do whatever I say. And don't follow me. You're going to be busy, soon, with your new position. So, grow out of this already."

Something about his wording rubbed her wrong. Elysia frowned, tilting her head back again to stare at his hooded features. It was annoying how far she had to look up. Over the last years, Aarin had gained at least a foot on her--and he hadn't been all that close to her height to begin with.

Oh--that was it. He was talking like an adult to a child. Aarin was Sorrel's age--that meant he was only three, four years older than her at most. Sixteen wasn't that much bigger.

"No."

His steps faltered. Elysia was tempted to pull his hood down so she could see what face he was making at that moment.

"Gods, you're annoying."

Her frown deepened. "I'm not."

"Sure, sure. Whatever. C'mon, I've got things to be doing that aren't this."

Despite his complaint, Aarin didn't leave her behind like she knew he could. Instead, he silently led her to the tower, his eyes burning into her back the entire time it took her to walk inside.

Then, he disappeared.