Chapter 57 - Dinner with Bones

Characters - 

Felix Sutter: Poor boy living in Sacramento, recently found out magic existed. Hard worker, knows the price of everything.

Erik Morsin: Heir to the Duchy of the Emerald Isle. Just wants to play his violin.

Alexandria Renard: Wants to be the next Morgana Le Fay. Can’t speak louder than a whisper. 

Hazel Winslow: Ran away from an abusive cult. Awoke as a natural mind mage.

Naomi Bones: Beautiful, elegant, and refined. Wears golden jewelry, but makes it look classy. Purrs a lot in her speech. Has bone and spider silk fence for her mental defenses.

Astrid Ashton: Phoenix house. Brings baked goodies to class. Makes enough for everyone.

Lance Thalorien: Grandson of the headmaster. “Just wait until my grandfather hears about this!”

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 The runes flared, the skies cracked, and Rimebreaker passed through the wards of Dublin.
Steel sang.
The city, slow to rise, could not stop the flood.

The Saga of Bjorn, Verse 17

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Erik moved through the dinner line, carefully picking out what to eat. The chicken looked pretty nice, the broccoli was nicely steamed… and as a little treat, a small square of brownie. Perfect. A glass of water, a glass of chocolate milk, and he was all set for dinner. The talk from earlier still bugged him, and everyone’s competing interests would be difficult to manage.

Alexandria wanted to move as fast as possible, while Felix and Hazel understandably wanted to take their time.

He picked his way through the crowd, dodged a clumsy attempt to trip him, and sat down across from Bones. A little unicorn figurine was prancing along the table, and the shakers were modeled after them, the salt and pepper coming out of their horns.

She got the full treatment. Smile #2, open, genuine, inviting, even though Erik wasn’t quite feeling it. 

“Hi Bones! Thank you again for saving my life.” He continued to smile, cutting into his chicken. “How are you finding the first day of class? How’s life in Phoenix house?”

“Quite good.” She said. Her elbows were tucked in like she was dining formally, and her back couldn’t be any straighter. She was wearing a slightly toned-down version of what she’d worn back on The Prydwen, in concession to the combat class, but otherwise was as elegant and beautiful as always.  “The Bones family has a way to test for magical maturity, and I got the basics done as soon as I hit the appropriate age. I am finding the early classes to be a nice refresher. And yourself?”

“The pacing’s different.” Erik said. “I’m used to more self-study and questions. The classroom aspect is a bit of a learning curve, although the pace of the material is slower.”

“Ah, tutors. I completely understand.” Naomi said with a smile. “Did you hear about the Chanteraine?”

“Her Language class?” Erik asked.

“She did something in language class?” Naomi asked, her eyes going wide. Erik kept a pleasant smile on his face, but Naomi’s surprised expression hadn’t quite been right. She was putting on a face, exactly like he did. “No, natural world. She hummed to the plants, and it was like they came alive! Growing and grasping. Then she called them all babies, and sat in a corner.”

Erik lifted an eyebrow.

“That must’ve been quite the sight.” He said.

“Indeed.” Naomi agreed.

The two of them idly chatted for half of dinner, talking about classes and the castle. Light, non-serious topics, while the other students ate their dinner and talked. Erik spotted Alexandria nearby, sitting with Vivian, keeping an eye on things. He didn’t know if he should be touched, offended, or worried. Eventually, they delved into more serious topics.

“A little mouse told me that you were working on forming a coven, and didn’t invite me.” Bones over-emoted her pout. “I’m hurt. Offended! I thought I asked you to keep me in mind when forming a coven. I’ve found other interested people, such that we might form a larger one together.”

Erik flashed his apology grin.

“Ah, sorry about that! Vivian told me that you were working on your own coven. Are you interested?”

“Mostly. I do have one stipulation, however, one that I am not open to negotiation on, only explanation.”

“Sure, hit me.”

“I will not be in a coven with Renard.” She said firmly.

Erik tilted his head.

“Oh? Why not?” He asked.

“She is a thug and a brute, too used to reaching to violence to lash out at the world around her. Everyone in life is dealt a hand. Some are better than others, true, but most of them are poor in some way.” She looked at Erik knowingly. “I wouldn’t be so crass as to dare say you received a good hand, I can read between the lines.”

Erik leaned back.

“What does that have to do with Alex?” He asked.

“Renard’s reaction to seeing the hand she was dealt was to attempt to flip the table entirely, and attack the dealer instead of playing. That is a level of volatility and instability I refuse to bind myself to. She was expelled for fighting once already. At our age? It’s far too young to be so violent, the pathways in her mind are set. No, I want nothing to do with it.”

At that very moment, almost as if to prove her point, Alex stood up from her chair and socked Astrid Ashton in the nose, who’d been walking by. Her tray went flying one way as the girl collapsed with a bloody nose, and Alex jumped on her. The fight was quickly broken up by the professors, and Alex was marched out with a frown.

“See?” Naomi said. “Volatile. Not someone I want near me. I have a small sense of magic, and I could tell that whatever set Renard off wasn’t done by dear Astrid. A moment of thought, and Renard would’ve realized it herself. Covens are quite important, and why buck tradition? Most ruling nobility aren’t in covens with their spouse, and for good reason. Take myself, the three Phoenixes that are interested, yourself, Park, and oh, say… Sutter, and we have a wonderful, pre-built coven of seven. Renard can be with Merryweather and, say, Winslow, and form their own coven of three. Stability on one side, all of the more… interesting elements on another, doing their own thing, and we can find power and success together. There’s no need to give me an answer right this moment, but please… think about it.” She said with half-lidded eyes.

The hairs on the back of Erik’s neck were prickling, but he was distracted by Thalorien walking up to the two of them, followed by Teysa Talven. Both of them were in Hydra colors, and Erik thanked Odin that they didn’t have good judgment.

“Morsin. It looks like she’s going to be a handful. Did your father teach you any tricks for that? Or did you just pick it up seeing your mother?”

Erik snapped and went cold. A thousand terrible vengeances went through his head, but a small thread of common sense reminded him that he had to do this right. He stood up, reaching for his satchel. His fingers brushed over his mace, but settled elsewhere.

“Thalorien. A comment like that demands satisfaction.”

Lance sneered at him.

“Why would I ever duel you?” He said. Erik whipped his glove out and slapped Lance across the face.

“Then be known as a coward.” Erik grabbed his tray, no longer hungry, and cleaned up after himself before chasing after Alex.

“Just wait until my grandfather hears about this!” Lance wailed.

“I hope he does.” Erik retorted over his shoulder.

How had it all gone so wrong so fast?

Morsin plotted.