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madschiavelique · 2 years

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A Crown Of Ink : chapter 1 - The Tower

masterlist : 1 — 2 — 3 — 4 word count : 6,7k

mentions of : nothing that I know of (if you do find some elements that might be triggering please don't hesistate to tell me so that I can add it)

summary : You've always been an excellent in student in the Academy, getting the best results and always being first in every class. But it all changes as soon as you see your name in the second place, the first being occupied by a certain Viktor.

"Rivals? Yes, rivals, so be it, that is what you will be."

some extra information on this : she/her reader, academic rivals to lovers/enemies to lovers, reader is really competitive and wants to be first at everything, Tarot themed fanfiction with guidelines, slow burn

author's note : hi besties, hope you're having a wonderful day/night/moment. I've been writing and thinking about many arcane fics lately and since this one had a few drafts ready in my files I thought I could share some with you ! here's the first chapter of this fic, I'm so excited to read your thoughts ! (also my native language is not English so you might find some grammar mistakes - sorry about that)

tag list : @wincestisasincest

Heat, insufferable waves of heat washing over your limbs, pulsing in your veins from your cheeks to your hands. It’s like a lingering murmur that hums in your entire body, a fever that drowns your thoughts in a boiling blazing mixture. It’s like you can hear your blood just pounding in your ears as your chest is on fire.

Raw Anger electrifying your body like the most vibrant jolt of lightning.

But still, you feel so weak, like your bones are icicles that might thaw under all that warmth, and all this melted ice might just run up to your eyes and wash the last bits of pride you had just a few minutes ago. It’s like your stomach turned to soft snow and you could feel the cold creeping to your heart like iced brambles.

Pure fear, feeling as fragile as a spider web.

War, that is what it feels like. A violent conflict that should not happen, a battle for a territory that never ends. They’ve eradicated shame.

Because anger and fear are sisters, they’ll have no time for shame.

And he started it.

[Earlier that day]

“Come on, let's have a look at what your next semester will be like.” Says Eris before gently rapping her fingers on the first and last cards of the deck.

You'd always found it satisfying, the steady sound of cards being shuffled, the clacking of thick, rich paper full of truths and predictions. The movement that Eris's hands repeated with her slender, accustomed fingers was mastered, fluid thanks to practice.

Tarot, an interesting science of interpretations that could offer you answers to your questions through card reading.

You didn't really feel nervous, the great number of herbs hanging on the walls of your friend's stall probably always helped to put her customers at ease and probably helped you feel relaxed.

Everything smelled of hot incense, lemongrass, and Eris always smelled of mint, as did most things she touched. She used to coat her fingertips with peppermint essential oil, so when she shuffled the cards, the freshness of the mint seemed to be the slicer of the future.

You inhale the scents, holding them in your nose for a moment before releasing them in a long breath through your mouth. You had come for your quarterly Tarot reading.

On every holiday you came back to meet Eris in the Undercity. Of course, you would do additional activities together.

You would engage in late night debates about the various sciences taught at the Academy, dissecting some of the legends of the continents of Runeterra or discussing absurd objects that had nevertheless been created in this world.

But the highlight of your stay was always your card reading which helped you in your studies and slightly in your daily life.

You preferred to keep the readings focused on your studies, to ensure your success until you finished school. So you didn't ask her for more information about how your life would go during the next months..

She stopped shuffling, setting the deck of cards on the counter. Used to it, you grabbed it with your left hand : always the left. This was a crucial rule, the cards must be shuffled and drawn with the left hand.

Eris had explained to you that we always control and deal the cards with the left hand because the feminine, intuitive and receptive energy is related to the left side of the body.

You cut the deck, she took the pile you hadn't touched and placed it on top of the one you had cut. Then, with an elegant and expert gesture, she laid the cards down until a perfect line was drawn on the dark, scratched metal.

You reached out your hand, trying to find the cards in the deck that called to you the most, waiting for a tingle in your fingertips.

Sometimes you even waited for that feeling of a vein in your arm being tugged lightly, which echoed like a guitar string to your heart as your ring finger hovered over a card that needed to be drawn.

You breathe in. The minty smell mixes with the whiff of the cards.

Breath out. You make sure your jaw is loose and your shoulders are relaxed

Tingling. You touch the card that Eris takes out of the line.

Tingling again, you apply the same gesture.

Ooh, this one almost pulls on your finger, it’s the third and last card.

You had often wanted to learn this science, this art. Your friend preferred to call it an art, with the argument: "an art that does not serve to heal is not an art".

But you didn't really know where to start, and you had surprisingly never asked her to teach you. Moreover, the lack of time between your studies, your job and Eris' work prevented you from spending longer moments together that could have allowed you to learn more.

That's also why she gave you small readings with only three cards. Fast, but it was always possible to develop on it.

She flips the first card: Wheel of Fortune. Cool, or so you think, because so far nothing seems wrong with your friend's behaviour. Eris flips the next card, and her reaction is quite different:

"Why are you making that face?"

Her straight nose was wrinkled, her dark grey eyes squinted, her right hand came to scratch the back of her neck slightly hidden under her black hair.

"Let's just say that... things are going to be pretty hectic for you in the next months."

The card she had just flipped was the Tower, and from what you could see the mood was not the happiest. At least, you wouldn't say that a lightning bolt striking a tower and two people falling from it was the most pleasant situation in your eyes.

Did that mean you would throw yourself off the Academy's observation tower? Great start of the year.

She flipped the last card: the Emperor.

She frowned her thick eyebrows as you waited impatiently for the results.

It was as if a very thin veil suddenly surrounded you, and it began to slowly but surely tighten your limbs. It was a bit like an itch you couldn't scratch.

Uncertainty, impatience, both lurking around you, ready to squeeze even tighter, to nip at your ribs in anticipation.

"Well," she finally said with a sigh, "this year will undoubtedly be much more turbulent than the last two, much, much more."

The veil tightens, the embrace is stifling you. Instinctively, your hands meet and your fingers fiddle themselves.

Well, that's probably an overreaction, you think, Eris hasn't even started her explanation yet.

You frown in turn before she picks up the Wheel of Fortune card and presents it to you.

"What I can see is that the wheel is turning. The Wheel of Fortune card is typical of the cycle. You know, things always look up in the end, or the calm before the storm. Whatever it is, it's something you can't avoid, you can't stop the wheel from turning.”

"And this Wheel of Fortune intends to throw me brimstone, salt and..." you squinted to better contemplate the details the card inhabited, "mercury?"

"I hope not," she sighs, before picking up the Tower's card, "In your case, what's coming is a storm. It's going to move hard, and it's not going to be pretty. The Tower card is very representative of a violent and sudden change.

"Yeah I gathered I wasn't going to be asked to agree," you say, looking at the card more closely.

A black background, in the centre a square grey tower being smashed at the top by a bolt of lightning, removing the rounded crown from the building. The tower is on fire, and two people are falling. Nice. Great. Fantastic.

"And finally..." She took the Emperor's card. "Have you met a guy lately?"

"I met some of the principles of science last night before I went to bed, so you can imagine the state of my social life," you say with a sigh, "but let me think about it."

You were so dedicated to your studies that it was hardly possible to see human beings other than on paper. You had a simple but important goal in your studies: you wanted to become Heimerdinger's assistant.

Why? Because being Heimerdinger's assistant would offer many privileges. And, not really knowing what you wanted to do later on, having a master key such as the title of his assistant would be perfect for whatever professional path you wished to take.

And although this may sound completely absurd when you put it like that, the results the Academy had recorded about you indicated the opposite : Successful in every subject, determined, meticulous, still some work to do regarding participation.

You already knew Heimerdinger, and by that you obviously meant that you had already conversed with him on various subjects when you happened to be in the same hallway or room with him. He was full of politeness in between his little chirps, but it didn't stop you from having conversations on serious subjects.

Who else could occupy that masculine place... Jayce perhaps?

You had met Jayce when you first arrived at the Academy, when you had been arranged as a group to prepare an engineering project. You exchanged a lot, bonded enough to be good friends, and even got the best mark for your assignment.

However, the popularity of this Golden Boy did not necessarily give you the honour of his presence every day. You weren't unsympathetic or unable to open up to others enough to have a wide repertoire of friends, but let's just say... You had enough personal reasons for not having the same level of sociability as Jayce.

"No, I don't really see anyone.”

"That's what I thought, well, in some cases, this card could indicate that despite all the hardships you're going to go through, you will regain control. In the second case, prepare to meet someone, and I mean a man. The Emperor card is a masculine force, sure of itself, it dominates the material world. It is even likely that... It is this someone who is causing all this change and this, how shall I say, 'upheaval'?"

"I hope I don't meet anyone then."

"That you know as well as I do, the cards-"

"Don't lie, yes, yes I know." You complete, knowing full well the end of her sentence. "I was going to double my efforts this year, but I think whoever is coming is trying to put a spoke in my wheel.”

"Nice one, and I doubt it's possible that you're going to give yourself any more than you are now," Eris says, gathering her cards to reform the deck and place it back in its box.”

You didn't like it at all, the reading, but at the same time you couldn't see how such splendid news could make anyone happy. You felt that you were missing bits and pieces of information, that it all lacked precision, as if you took a handful of sand and grains crept into the cracks between your fingers

"Don't you have anything else to tell me about this reading ? It's a bit short, isn't it?

"I can't give you an 18 card reading like I usually would," she was busy arranging trinkets on her display to make it look cleaner and more professional, "my next customer is coming in five minutes."

You run your fingers through your hair, chewing your cheek, thinking of ways the wheel could turn until it would become excruciating.

Bad grades? Your grades were often within two points of the top mark and always had been.

But what if some new teachers mark completely differently? That's not a problem, you would analyse their grading style to adapt to their demands and requirements in your work.

An incurable disease? A zombie invasion? A war? A pirate attack on the Academy? Well, apart from the war, the statistics are low.

No, you had to know what it was, you needed more information. You hesitated, then finally said softly:

"Eris?" she turned to you, waiting for you to ask, "do you have a deck to lend me ? And a manual to understand how all this… works?"

If the lack of time on Eris's side prevented you from knowing more, you would bring the answers to yourself. She looked at you for a moment, surprised, before a thin smile split her face.

From underneath her stand she pulled out a box on which was marked 'Radiant Wise Spirit Tarot'.

"We'll start with the simplest and most direct. The Tarot de Marseille has too many ambiguities and I suspect that with your busy schedule, you won't have much time to analyse everything, so I'm giving you a Rider Waite Tarot. There's a booklet in the box that will give you explanations of the card you're drawing."

"And..." you took the box in your hands, "what do I do next ? Do I do like you, draw three cards and then dive into the booklet and try to connect them together ?”

"Um, let's start with something simpler that will probably be faster for you. Start by shuffling the cards until you are sure that everything is mixed up and the cards are no longer in sequence. Then, the exercise you will do is simple: every morning, shuffle the cards, put the deck down, cut it as you usually do, and look at the bottom card. Read its description and see how, over the course of the day, you can relate it to events. If any card comes out when you shuffle, keep it on the side, it might be supplementary information about your day.”

You gazed for a moment at the drawings that ran the length of the box. You never thought you'd try this, but if it could help you to know better how to guide yourself this year, why not give it a try.

"How did your little warm-up exam go, by the way ? Did you do well ?"

"A child who’d just come out of a storm on a ship and is seasick could have done well on this," you say as you tuck your tarot into your backpack, "but if the result is anything else, I'll tell you in my letter."

You corresponded by letters, the quota being a letter every fortnight or so to tell each other the latest events in your lives. She was probably the person you had known the longest.

"The results are coming in today anyway."

"So soon ? They never get a break at the Academy.”

"We run on coffee, it's the oil in our engines," you say, pointing to your brain. "And that's not all. Today, I'm welcoming my roommate."

"You accepted that ? You, the eternal lone wolf?”

"Poor wolf, a dog would be a better fit."

"You're a good biter though."

You roll your eyes. In Zaun, everyone has fought at least once in their lives. So you may have potentially already bitten someone. But it was obviously in self-defence, and to...

"I was forced to have a flatmate, a room normally for two occupied by only one student at the Academy is just impossible in the long run. Anyway, I hope she won't be difficult to live with. I don't know her name, but I know she's on the same course as me, so who knows, maybe we'll end up getting along.

"Then let's just hope you don't make her feel uncomfortable."

"Me ? That's not knowing me well, with my warm sociable nature I could be buddy-buddy with anyone I want."

"Another hidden talent of yours that no one knows about ? That's what I love about you, your boundless empathy."

"What can I say, I'm a world to discover."

You adjust your bag on your shoulders, getting ready to leave when Eris calls you one last time:

"Take care of yourself."

You smile at her one last time before waving and heading for the exit of her shop. You pull the hood of your sweatshirt over your head and adjust a thick black cloth to cover your mouth and nose. The reasons for this 'mask' are various. Firstly, Zaun's fumes are getting worse every year thanks to Piltover's waste, so you try to protect yourself as best you can from them. And secondly... let's just say that there are certain people you'd rather not run into again in your life who could be detrimental to you, so you might as well mask yourself.

The waste that Piltover dumped ended up in Zaun, where the air is so thick you feel heavier, where the greying water tastes like a medicinal concoction and where the sugary smell of cold tobacco, incessantly kicked up dust and metal suffocates you.

You arrive at one of the lifts in the Undercity. They've been running for decades, and you can't help but notice all the visible mechanisms and gears that make them work. They are almost ironic in their simplicity to you, all rusted and burnished by time. A few squeaks, a slight tremor, and the machine starts to move, beginning its ascension.

It has changed so much, it has evolved so much. The Lanes you knew ten years ago bore little resemblance to the Zaun of today.

The transport, the architecture, the shops, everything in the city centre of Zaun had literally changed. As for the other, more remote parts, you didn't prefer to venture there alone, it was too risky, too dangerous.

Not that you couldn't defend yourself, but it's not the first place you would have thought of if you'd thought of coming back to Zaun to spend a weekend.

Your ride in the lift ended, you had reached the surface. The sun was high in the sky, its heat was not horrible but it could quickly become uncomfortable in this mid-afternoon. You began your long walk, not really preferring to linger in this place that reeked of urine and expired eggs.

So you walked on, weaving your way through the streets until you reached the central road. You continued until you reached one of those big bridges connecting the two nations.

It was a long walk, but you were thankful that the trees of Piltover could provide you with some shade under their leaves. For although the bridges between Zaun and Piltover were convenient, they were very long and left little to no shelter from the sun.

And although you could have been content to stay under the foliage of the tree you were standing under, you now had to face another parameter of the journey home that you didn't appreciate : the slopes.

It didn't look like it when you were near Piltover, but from a distance you could see that it was a city built in tiers.

You could only look at this sight of Piltover like a big decorated cake that was built on levels which you could see in those fancy pâtissier displays. All glazy, shiny with golden details that cost three times your own salary.

So you started the second part of the journey in cake city. You continued down the alley you were in, crossing it until you came to a small square in the centre of which stood a fountain made of ochre blocks of earth. But you continued on, taking your first set of stairs to the right.

You started to climb, and you hated Piltover for their architecture that went in all directions. You went up, then took a large shopping street on your left until you came to one of the big crossroads of the city, then you turned right again, took a small street, and then took stairs again.

The pace was relentless, the heat made you feel like you were swimming in your own sweat, but at least you were not far from the area of buildings reserved for scholarship students.

It was a small area, really, considering that the more privileged students – that is, the majority of the Academy's students – had bigger flats further uptown. This was the case for Jayce. But then again, when you're supplied by the Kirammans, it's hard to be poorly lodged.

You sometimes had the opportunity to chat with the Kirammans' daughter, Caitlyn. Although she could appear cold and distant, once she got comfortable enough with you, she was actually quite friendly. And so far, you were getting on well with her.

It was absolutely exhausted and out of breath that you finally arrived in front of your building. It was not far from the shuttle bus stop that would take you to the Academy.

It was an old building, quite long and two floors high. From what you were told, it was an old hospital that had been refurbished. After all, Piltover was a very healthy town and therefore had few hospitals.

The cool thing about former hospitals is that their beds are always extremely comfortable, so it is always a struggle to get out of them in the morning and a relief to get back in at the end of the day.

You took a deep breath, readjusting your bag on your shoulders.

It was full of little gifts and supplies that you had collected from Eris. Most of them were herbs for stress, so you had several whole bottles of peppermint or assorted Bach flowers to hang in your room, as well as elixir versions that your friend had given you.

You had also picked up some new textbooks that she didn't use – you might as well take advantage of them and save money instead of having to spend it on new notebooks.

She had also stocked you up on ink and you were probably set to write for several years with all those bottles of Ionian ink.

How did such an expensive item made its way into your friend's stall ? Well, all sorts of customers came through her shop and sometimes paid by barter instead of the common currency.

She kept a lot of strange things hidden behind her stall that fascinated you whenever you came to see her.

Gold-flecked red eggs, feathers of many colours that you could not have imagined in your mind, knives with blades of particular and expensive metals, perfumes with strange powers and all sorts of things that would have made Benzo's shop and other Zaun's apothecaries look like children trading marbles.

So you had inherited a new quill, along with other supplies that would be useful this year.

You passed through the bronze gate, closing it behind you before climbing the three steps to the stoop and opening the door to the Hall.

The building was not complex, which cut through the labyrinthine appearance of the entire city. A hall connected the two wings of the building: on the left was the girls' wing, on the right the boys' wing, although mischievous people playing bashful lovers often deviated from this organisation.

The hall had a high ceiling from which hung three simple but perfectly illuminating chandeliers. It had a common room in the centre and a fireplace on the wall opposite to the entrance. A few brown leather armchairs and sofas formed a few circles around low tables.

Entering this hall was like entering a distant period in the past, it had nothing to do with the clean, modern, flawless and polished to perfection appearance of the Piltover buildings.

No, here it smelled of varnished wood, old books and something fruity like warm orange. Something from beyond time, where the fire crackles in the dark winters, somewhere where anything can happen in the quietest of quiet.

Sitting on one of these armchairs was a young man with brown hair, prominent cheekbones, head bowed over a piece of paper that had been folded and crumpled many times. An elaborately designed crutch laid against his seat.

He seemed to wear fatigue like an elegant cloak with the dark circles under his eyes, hunched over, his chocolate hair finger-combed, his chin hidden in his hand as he scanned the piece of paper.

You would have gone on your way, and perhaps you should have. As you entered he looked up, his amber eyes meeting your gaze for a moment before inevitably turning back to his piece of paper.

You had never seen him, never met him, never spoken to him. All you could deduce was that he was new. This was not difficult to understand when you saw the bag of luggage that was lying near his feet.

What else can you deduce… This poor guy was looking at his perfectly folded piece of paper as if it held the most important secret of his entire existence, and the way he was looking at it seemed almost painful: he was obviously lost.

How was it even possible to get lost in such a simple building ? In any case, he had probably been there for a while, because if one of his legs was aching, he had to sit down on one of the chairs after a while.

Who knows how long he had been staring at his cursed paper without answers?

But what to do in such cases? Do something? Do nothing?

If you did something, maybe you'd disturb him. Maybe he wasn't even lost and was just waiting for someone, and maybe that damn paper was just an equation he was stuck on or a cryptic post-it note and not instructions to find his way.

However, if you didn't act and ran into that same student again later, you might feel ashamed that you didn't come to his aid.

You had not been raised to help others, you had been raised to compete, so taking the first step to help someone was not always the first thing on your mind.

You were flipping a coin in your head, are you helping him? Are you not helping him?

You ended up choosing the option that would not make you look heartless and lacking in empathy as you pronounce with whatever strength you had left from your journey:

"Need help?"

He didn't even look away from his paper, which seemed to have been crumpled in every way possible, before answering you in the most disinterested way possible:

"I'm managing just fine, thank you."

It was a peculiar accent, and one not commonly found in Piltover. In fact, you'd heard that kind of accent before, but in Zaun. And although you knew the pride of the Zaunites, the harshness of the rejection had redoubled your desire to return to your flat as soon as possible.

‘With my warm sociable nature I could be buddy-buddy with anyone I want’,you were replaying that ridiculous phrase you said to Eris in your mind.

So you headed for your dorms and almost collapsed at the thought of having to climb stairs again. Admittedly it was only one floor, but how you would have envied having one of the ground floor dormitories.

Your body was screaming with fatigue, you felt dirty with sweat, bent over by the weight of your bag, and your feet seemed to be threatening to never allow you to walk again even though they were used to the journey.

You almost dragged yourself to your floor, exhausted. But you couldn't afford to arch your back like the roof of a cathedral forever when you spotted an unfamiliar figure at the end of the hallway, where your flat was.

Oh, that's right, your new room-mate. You pulled yourself up, trying to look straighter than the pile of exhausted limbs your body composed. You might as well make a good impression on the person you were going to be living with for the next... for the time that person would be studying at the Academy, you assumed.

You stepped forward, and she noticed you from where she was standing. She was of medium height, her hair pulled back into a high, thick bun of brown curls. The dimple that split her chin quivered and her pale eyes behind her half-moon glasses peered shyly at you.

When you reached her level, you forced a smile that must have looked more like a wince, given the aches and pains that were already showing on your body. But then again, you have to look polite and welcoming for someone you're going to be sharing your home with for a while, don't you?

"Hi," she began in a voice that proved to you that she had to repeat her introduction over and over before you arrived, "I'm Sky Young, are you the owner of flat 110 ?

"Nice to meet you Sky, that's me indeed." You say, introducing yourself and taking your keys out of your pocket. "You didn't have to wait too long, did you ?”

"Not at all !" Lies, she must have arrived a while ago and had to wait a long time.

"Didn't you get lost on the way ?”

"I must admit it wasn't an easy place to find," she confessed, "but it gave me a better idea of the city."

You opened the door to the flat.

It wasn't a huge place, but there was enough space for two. A tiny corridor led you to the first room. The wall opposite probably had your favourite aspect of the room: huge double glazed sash windows with thin glass that looked like one of these stain-glasses you find in churches, only these were completely polished and separated by some sort of cold golden metal. It was longer than it was high, separated into three parts with a ledge to sit on next to it, it was a great corner for reading or just looking out at the night.

Against this same wall, in its corners, were bedside tables each glued to the sides of single beds while, not far from them, two small personal desks were opposite.

A tiny kitchen with three cupboards, a mini-fridge, a sink, a hotplate and a microwave were stuck against the last corner of the room. Opposite the window was a small dressing room serving as well as a passageway to the bathroom.

You put your bag on your desk before sitting down on your bed, closing your eyes in satisfaction at the touch of your mattress.

Sky looked like she didn't know where to put herself, the poor girl resembled a stunned fawn on the spot.

"Please make yourself at home." You pointed out to her, "over there is the dressing room, it's small but it's enough, and just after is the bathroom.”

You didn't really know where to put yourself either, this type of living arrangement wasn't really common to you. Did you offer to help her organise her things? No, you'd already offered to help the guy downstairs, so getting rejected twice in a row would almost be personal.

Engage in conversation ? Yes, that's probably the thing to do :

"Have you ever visited the Academy ?"

She had moved to the dressing room and started unpacking her things, putting them in the cupboards.

"Not yet," she said, stooping to retrieve a pile of t-shirts, "I'm fairly new."

"You're not from Piltover right ? Where are you from ?" you asked, taking your turn to take out the stuff from your bag.

"I come..." She pauses. " From the other side of the bridge. "

Ah, another Zaunite ? That would make three in the building.

Firstly and obviously, you. Secondly, Sky. And if your assumptions were correct, so was the morning-pee-eyed guy.

Two new Zaunite students arrived on the same day. You wondered whose room-mate this guy would be that you already felt sorry for.

Should you, however, also say that you were from Zaun ? You could already imagine the tricky question of ‘really ? Where are you from ?’

"Oh, I see," you simply replied.

You organised your desk neatly, arranging your ink bottles correctly, hanging the Bach flowers above your headboard, placing your new notebooks on the desk and leaving one in your bag.

As for your tarot deck, you put it on your bedside table so that the next morning you would not forget to draw your card.

You watched it again, your eyes tracing the outline of the box. The truth. It must be hidden in there, it must warn you, help you.

Something frees itself in your throat, creeps into your tongue, tickling your lips. You want to ask, ask where, why, ask how, ask when, ask who. You want to know, and still it's like being in the middle of a foggy night, discerning street lights in the distance, determining blurred shapes without ever being able to understand them.

You’re lost, completely lost. Where are you going ?

Oh, the results, you suddenly remembered. You looked at the time on your wrist, the test results were due in about an hour.

"When you've finished putting your things away, would you like a tour of the Academy ?" you offered.

Sky, who had finished organising her clothes and moved to her desk, turned to you with a small, shy smile.

"It would be a pleasure. The results of the first tests are due today, aren't they?

"Absolutely, we'll finish the tour with that."

In no time at all, Sky had finished packing up all her things with an efficiency you appreciated. You gave her the spare key and left the flat. When you went downstairs, the young man was no longer there, fortunately, because you couldn't bear to see him again.

When you arrived outside, a handful of students had already gathered in front of the shuttle bus stop. You took the opportunity to inform Sky of the shuttle's timetable so that she wouldn't get lost or be late.

Once in it, you started to show Sky around. You pointed out the convenience store where you used to shop - which you should do right after the results.

You also showed her a charming little bakery where you praised the cheap snacks, showed her the café where you worked at weekends, the stationery shop where you sometimes went to buy things when you were short of certain utensils.

She was attentive the whole way. You arrived in front of the Academy's golden gate and so began the long visit.

***

You had spent the next three quarters of an hour going through the various corridors that would be useful to know at the Academy. The small lecture theatres and the larger ones, the study rooms, the library which alone took a good ten minutes to visit, the laboratories, the refectory which you only advised Sky to go to if she had enough money.

The Academy canteen was expensive, and although it had good food, the scholarship students tried to avoid it as much as possible, preferring instead to make their own lunch boxes.

You had obviously shown her the two courtyards, the entrance one and the inner one where the students met during their breaks if they were not in the study hall.

And now you were heading for the results panel near your main classrooms.

"It's interminably big," Sky huffed, "I'm afraid I'll get lost."

"Don't worry, we can make the route together. Besides, you've still got the next two days to get used to the building.

Tomorrow was the start of the weekend, and the Academy remained open for those two days to welcome students and teachers alike. This was mainly for information purposes. The Academy's library was full of everything a student would need to know.

In addition, some students found the atmosphere of the study rooms much more conducive to work than if they were at home or in their dormitories.

The small group seemed more agitated than usual, some of them looking at you. You didn't really care, it wasn't unusual for people to glance at you after a grade announcement had fallen.

After years in their company, one could indeed expect them to wonder who always came out on top everywhere. You hadn't left the title of "First" for a long time. And although it was probably a surprise to some, you gave your all to stay first.

Survival, survival taught you that. Be first, whatever it takes.

In the distance, you saw Jayce's head sticking out. How could you miss him, he's easily a head taller than everyone else here. Except that at the moment he's not really smiling like he usually would be, but that doesn't stop him from coming towards you.

"Sky, this is Jayce, Jayce this is Sky, my new room-mate."

"Nice to meet you Sky," Jayce smiles politely before turning to you and giving you a strange look. "I think you should check out the board."

Your eyebrows immediately furrowed as your gaze jumped from Jayce to the crowd of students. You stepped forward, your shoulders suddenly tense and your jaw clenched.

Your usual confidence at this kind of moment crumbles, giving way to fear of what you might find on that board.

You make your way through, your classmates even moving aside slightly so that you can pass. The list of students in your class is long, so you look at the names at the bottom first.

You know them, they're almost always the same. Your gaze keeps going up, your name is still not present, as you would expect.

However, what worries you is that Jayce has advised you to come and see the board. He knows very well the complex you have, he knows very well that you want and need to be first everywhere at all costs, he doesn't know the reason for it but he knows enough.

Your serenity was eroding, your heart was beginning to beat against your ribs like a caged bird.

You continue to climb, you look at the last quarter of the names. Your mouth goes dry and you have trouble swallowing. It scares you, what you might find at the top of that list.

It terrifies you as if you were standing on the edge of a precipice, a huge, black hole, and your feet were sticking out slightly into the void.

You keep going up, and you find your name. And it's like trying to swallow a big block of ice, because your name isn't the first. It's the second.

So you read this name that stole your title, your place.

Viktor Moravec.

Who the fuck is this Viktor occupying your first place ?

Your heart is squeezed, as if the bird had finally been caught, still trying to flip his wings, sending tingles in your entire chest. It feels so heavy now, your lungs weigh tons, it feels hard to breathe.

"Woah, you're second !” Sky says as she comes up behind you.

The knife stirring your stomach was completely rearranging your insides, and she was unintentionally pouring vinegar on every open cut to your heart. To Sky it may have been incredible, but to you it was catastrophic, you were so mediocre that you came second. Pathetic.

You want to get away from these people, from this group who sees you failure, who sees your defeat and whose eyes swarm over your body like thousands of insects.

While Sky was busy looking for her name in the long list, you were drifting away from the group. It was unpleasant, very unpleasant for the first results of the year.

Viktor, that name really didn't remind you of anything either. Who was it ? Who was it that was dethroning you?

"Ah Jayce, I'd lost track of you."

That accent, you've heard it somewhere before, you're sure.

"You're just in time, I have to introduce you." Jayce says as he turns to the individual.

The footsteps are not steady, a clink of metal rings out on the floor. Your eyes, lowered to the ground, gain on the feet of the person advancing towards you. An elaborately finished crutch, held by a young man with chocolate finger-combed hair and prominent cheekbones.

It's when your gaze reaches the level of his morning-piss-eyes and Jayce makes the introductions that you nearly scream :

"This is Viktor, Viktor..."

"I've met her before, Jayce, no worries." He says without taking his eyes off you for a moment.

"But I guess some real introductions are in order."

The Emperor who came to dethrone you is in front of you: Viktor.

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