{lisa}
Professor Hendrick’s voice droned on about theoretical Essence applications in defensive ward construction. lisa tried to take notes, mainly because her ward ga was weak. She hadn’t focused on that aspect of magic too much throughout the years. She really tried to focus, but Isabella had other plans.
"Your neck looks lonely," Isabella whispered, shifting on lisa’s lap. "I can fix that."
"My neck is fine."
"Disagree." Warm lips pressed against her pulse point.
[God give strength.]
lisa’s quill scratched across parchnt: The crystalline matrix structure of—
Isabella’s tongue flicked out.
The quill jerked, leaving a long ink trail across half the page.
"Isabella!"
"Hmm?" She replied, all innocence, batting her eyes.
"I’m trying to learn."
"So am I. Currently, I’m studying the correlation between neck kisses and nim arousal responses. Promising results, I must say."
From two rows front, soone snorted. Probably Jenkins, the ass who always sat too close and slled vaguely of cheese.
It had been two weeks now since the kidnapping. Two weeks since she’d left Sirah bleeding in the forest.
And lisa was... She was... mostly fine.
She was on track to beco the most powerful mage in history, had three very passionate lovers, and her parents actually talked to her now instead of tiptoeing around like she might explode.
[Still need to figure out that ’greatest fighter’ thing though. My swordsmanship has been lacking.]
But two out of three goals wasn’t bad. Alice would’ve been amazed to see where lisa ended up.
"Miss Blackfla."
Professor Hendrick’s voice cut through her thoughts. He stood directly in front of her desk, arms crossed, eyebrows doing that thing where they tried to climb into his hairline.
"Perhaps you could share your thoughts on ward anchoring?"
The entire class turned to stare. Isabella’s hand froze on lisa’s thigh.
"Ward anchoring requires a stable Essence foundation, typically achieved through layered spellwork rather than single-cast thods," lisa rattled off without missing a beat. "The matrix structure prevents degradation over ti by distributing magical load across multiple anchor points."
Professor Hendrick blinked.
"That’s... correct. And comprehensive."
"... I can multitask."
Isabella chose that exact mont to bite her ear.
"BELLA!"
Half the class jumped. Soone dropped their quill. Jenkins made that stupid snorting sound again.
"Miss Sumr, please remove yourself from Miss Blackfla’s lap."
"But Professor, I’m helping with her concentration—"
"Now."
Isabella pouted but slid off, taking the desk beside lisa instead. Her tail imdiately wrapped around lisa’s ankle.
lisa rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but smile.
The rest of class passed without major incident, though Isabella’s tail kept doing things that made concentration difficult. By the ti Hendrick dismissed them, lisa’s notes looked like they’d been written during an earthquake.
"I still can’t believe you answered correctly while she was literally biting you," Armia said as they left the classroom.
"Practice." lisa stretched, joints popping. "You learn to compartntalize when you live with Isabella."
"Hey! I’m not that bad!"
Three people in the hallway turned to stare at her raised voice.
"Okay, maybe a little bad."
Raven fell into step beside them, like she materialized out of thin air. The usual.
"The professor looked disappointed you knew the answer."
"Hendrick always looks disappointed. It’s his resting face."
They made their way through the academy grounds, dodging other students and the occasional magical mishap. A first-year had sohow set his own robes on fire with water magic. Probably tried so "super innovative" combination that went horribly.
"Plans for the afternoon?" Armia asked.
"Ho. Books. Studying." lisa sighed. "I’m behind on my Essence theory paper."
"Boring," Isabella declared. "We should go to that new tea shop. The one with the cute server."
"Everything can’t be about cute servers."
"Why not? Life’s too short not to appreciate attractive people serving beverages."
"Because so of us have academic responsibilities."
"Academic responsibilities are temporary. Cute servers are eternal."
"That makes no sense."
"Nothing about Isabella makes sense," Armia pointed out. "We’ve established this."
They bickered on comfortably as they walked, the familiar rhythm of it soothing sothing in lisa’s chest. This was what she’d wanted when she’d made those wishes. Friends who cared about her. Lovers who made her laugh. A life that ant sothing.
"—and that’s why I think we should definitely check if the server has a tail," Isabella was saying.
"We are not going to harass service workers," Armia said firmly.
"It’s not harassnt if I’m genuinely interested in their tail situation!"
"That’s literally what a tail harasser would say."
"I am not a tail harasser!"
"You harassed my tail just last week."
"That was different. We’re dating~"
lisa let their voices wash over her as they walked. Normal. Safe. Perfect.
The sun hung low as they reached her house, painting everything in warm gold. Ho. Where her parents would fuss over her and ask about her day. Where Hazel would demand stories about academy life. Where she could just be lisa instead of ’the nim who knows magic’ or ’the girl who got kidnapped.’
She pushed open the door.
"Mom, we’re—"
The words died in her throat.
There, on her couch, sat Sirah.
[What.]
The darian warrior lounged between Margaret and listair like she belonged there. Cup of tea in her remaining hand. Laughing at sothing listair had said.
[What the actual fuck.]
lisa blinked. Once. Twice.
Still there.
Margaret looked up, beaming with that smile she used when she was particularly pleased about sothing.
"Oh sweetie! Your friend from the trip is here!"
Friend.
From the trip.
Sirah turned. Their eyes t across the room. That familiar cocky grin spread across her face, the one that had made lisa’s stomach do flips for all the wrong reasons.
"Hey, Red Eyes, Purple Mage. Miss ?"
The world crystallized into perfect clarity. Behind her, she felt more than saw Raven move faster than thought. One second the assassin was standing by the door, the next she had a knife pressed against Sirah’s throat.
"Move and die."
Margaret gasped. listair jumped to his feet, spilling his tea.
Sirah raised her hand, her only hand, slowly. The grin never wavered.
"Okay, okay. Let explain."
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