Ciel’s mind was not equipped to deal with moral dilemmas.
An exhausted sigh escaped her, fading into the cold breeze.
Glancing down at the furious girl, she muttered. "I apologise for nothing."
The forr shadebeast’s heart clenched. Her sympathy sang, but not her cold rationality.
A mimic’s head had to be lobbed off to kill it fully. It was a well-known fact among any aspiring shadehunter.
The villager girl before her knew it; earlier, it was nothing but an irrational accusation.
Ciel wasted no ti further, as she focused her mind on her staff’s tip.
Imbued with , the staff’s end humd with a devastating vibration.
"You-"
A swing to the cheek ended the girl’s last shout. Her body collapsed onto the floor, a dead silence only accompanying her.
Her face wore a red patch of bulging wound, the staff’s blunt impact strong but not fatal.
Despite her regretful look, Ciel felt strangely nothing.
Just like it was necessary to ’kill’ the mimic, she deed it necessary to knock the girl unconscious.
She found no aning in reasoning with the girl.
Then where did the regret co from?
Shire’s call, as she stepped to Ciel’s side, perhaps was the answer.
"This girl was too weak to move on."
The simple mutterance caused Ciel to frown. It’s the shadebeasts, them, who exposed that weakness in the first place.
Her posture grew hunched.
But Quia’s hands soon enveloped from the front, her face lting into the elf’s warm chest.
"Ciel."
A kind voice erged. Belying the tone was understanding, the only one who trusted Ciel despite her true identity.
Ciel reciprocated the hug, her hand raising with hesitation.
Yet as her palm found Quia’s back, she felt much, much safer than she thought.
She was glad to have t the elf.
And her heart clenched for one more ti, because she regretted the elf finding her identity.
—---------
They soon carried the unconscious girl into the academy grounds.
A staff mber, dressed in a doctor’s robe, greeted and instructed them, pointing them toward the opening ceremony.
The doctor instructed that a Nightingale barrier, the second one after the city’s, enveloped the academy grounds as an extra precaution against the Nightfall.
Hence, the defensive spell blocked the girl’s entry, with no guards to respond to her, given their trust in the barrier.
Shire left behind, claiming not to care for the girl but for the wound that adorned her shoulder.
Ciel and Quia walked in silence afterwards. Their lips would seal any word that threatened to slip away.
"Oh!"
Until they arrived in the academy hall, settling right in the middle of the academy.
It was a large building with towering spires and glittering windows, modelled on a church.
As they chanced upon the interior, the air scread sanctity.
Rows of long benches lined the vast, open space, leaving only a gap in the middle. A stage, decorated with gold-laced woods and spilling lush curtains, rose ahead with an all-encompassing dignity.
Upon sitting down at the row’s end, the hollow silence deepened, and only the bench’s creak rang in their ears.
They stiffened like that, even drawing a slight distance between each other.
Quia spoke first.
"Ciel. Anything bothering you?"
The forr shadebeast frowned.
She had wanted to avoid the topic, but her enjoynt with the elf ended short here.
"Nothing," Ciel’s whisper lingered, her eyes darting everywhere in caution.
She continued, spotting no monitors behind the grand pillars that decorated the hall.
"Miss Quia. Rember the favour you promised ? Back in the Entrance Exam?"
The elf clapped her hands, mouthing an exaggerated gasp. "How could I forget?"
"Mm." Ciel nodded, noting the uncharacteristic flair of the elf’s voice. "I...want to enact it now."
Ciel didn’t like to take advantage of people unless it was necessary.
No, kindness was not her excuse, but she feared the long-term consequences right after.
"Oh?"
Upon the elf’s innocent tilt of her head, Ciel admired Quia’s glimring features, then imdiately proposed.
"I have an ability called ."
, a skill exclusively born within the witches, and only the witches.
Thus, revealing the skill’s na was equivalent to revealing her witch’s status.
Quia pursed her lips, changing to a stern, uncompromising look.
First, Queen. Now, a witch? How much of an identity crisis must her shortie co under?
Even the experienced elf paused to take in the implied information.
Finally-
"Alright," Quia spat out, wiping away all her doubts inside. "Let’s hear it. What do you want to do?"
Ciel shook her head.
And hung it as the world weighed on her.
"When we’re alone," her murmur was restrained, careful not to burst with emotion. "I want us to negotiate terms and make a contract between us."
The elf took an even longer pause, her face becoming unreadable.
Yet Ciel observed as hurt spread through the elf’s features.
"What sort of contract?" Quia asked.
"Sothing that could guarantee trust. Between us."
Ciel’s palms covered her eyes, allowing the darkness to take over her vision, anything but Quia’s expression.
"Miss Quia," she asked sincerely. "I treasure the bond between you and , but I’m also selfish."
’Trust’ ca from both sides.
Ciel deep down knew Quia trusted her, but Ciel couldn’t reciprocate.
As long as her secret remained at large, the shadebeast inside her would always growl.
She wished they would keep a distance, by the contract of trust that Ciel would bind them with.
Yet through a curious gap between her palms, Ciel peeked as Quia shifted forward, catching Ciel’s wrists.
Quia pried them open, revealing Ciel’s round, black eyes.
Unlike earlier, they lacked the coldness when facing the freckled girl.
Who was Ciel? A cruel Queen who killed without batting an eye? Or an innocent girl suffering under so crisis beyond the elf’s knowing?
Quia decided to put it aside for now.
Because this Ciel, filled with hurt and doubts, was always within her reach.
And the elf refused to leave her that way.
"As you wish, Ciel."
A sad smile adorned Quia’s lips as Ciel’s chest ached.
And as she closed her eyes, a peck filled with only a familiar softness settled on her brow.
It reminded Ciel of the past life she couldn’t forget, and a sister she never had.
Sohow, her heart wrenched with more conflict.
Yet as she opened her eyes, the conflict seed distant, futile and almost creepingly comical.
Because behind the elf’s firm, comforting back-
Stood a towering figure with two draconic eyes, glaring down at the duo with a shaking intensity.
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