Cira was most certainly pissed at Orelia for bringing her father into this. Maybe the Cira who first arrived on Icarus would expressly backhand that old bag, but she had had ti to cool off. While her dad was still sort of in the doghouse, Cira felt there was little to gain from getting huffy and puffy over sothing like a few words. Besides, this woman's disappointnt was not sothing which bothered Cira all too much.
"You know, I'm certain my father would be proud of , so let's leave him out of this. The approval of so old lady he used to know is not sothing which matters to . And for the record, not once has anyone suggested I act in one particular way or another, and I certainly haven't agreed to anything. Your 'customs' are not sothing I have even been made aware of." Cira watched Orelia's face distort but didn't care. She had to set so boundaries. "Now, from my perspective, I have been acting rather mildly since landing on Icarus. So, if there are specific incidents you would like to complain about, you have my attention."
"How about throwing the whole island into chaos on your first day by picking a fight with a greater spirit?" Orelia notably skipped over the whole destroying Icarus' barrier part, likely knowing she wouldn't get far with an issue Fitzgeralt had already addressed.
"For one, I did not start that fight. And we have since reconciled." Cira offered a thoughtful and honest answer, "Destria and I are on good terms now—she's friends with my daughter, in fact. Though I suppose I must say it was not my intention to incite chaos. Okay, next."
Orelia stared blankly at Cira, unsure which part of her answer to take issue with. Cira for one was just confused as to how she could have gotten that answer wrong. It was clear though that she sohow had done exactly that.
"You almost killed my son!" A different woman spoke from a slightly lower chair than Orelia. Cira was relieved to see soone else speak up, but the accusation wasn't great.
"That can't be right." It was troubling how sincere the woman looked though. "Who's your son?"
The woman scoffed in open hostility, and sensing Cira's confusion, Fitz jumped in.
"Cira, this is Miss Flaxon, one of my first mark arbiters. Her son is enrolled in the sa practical magics class you recently visited in your spare ti." She was thankful for the context, but Cira still drew a blank. She didn't rember almost killing anyone.
"You grew him into a squash." Eliza said dryly.
"Ah. I actually grew a squash around him." Cira felt the distinction was important. She then turned to the distressed woman. "Your poor boy was being incredibly rude and literally asked for a fight. He not only made himself look like a weak fool by losing a fight he started, but I went easy on him. I think I even gave him pointers to improve his technique, as any respectable fellow student would have in my shoes. Do you have further questions?"
The woman was in shock, and didn't know what to say. Perhaps Cira was being crass, but she tried not to leave room for interpretation.
Cira heard a short kerfuffle and swiveled her cloud that way. It was that creepy lady having so words with Orelia, who spoke up on the spot when noticed.
"A-and you nearly murdered Lady Lilith's son!" While it was quite the declaration, she looked strangely unconfident.
Cira could only roll her eyes and shrug exhaustedly at the pale woman, "Lilith, what have you been telling these people? Who even is your son?"
"I have been telling them nothing of the sort! My son is Rilihad, the young man who—"
"Yeah, yeah. The guy studying my barrier. He practically killed himself! I saved his life at great emotional expense." Cira couldn't help but scoff, shaking her head in disappointnt. The woman claid to be sohow involved with her father, but she was proving to be deplorable at every turn. "Your son should be more careful."
"I couldn't agree more!" The creepy lady nodded vehently, "And I intend to tell him as soon as he wakes up. This is sothing I also shared with Orelia quite thoroughly."
Apparently, there was so kind of disconnect between the arbiters. Cira got the impression Lilith didn't like Orelia too much, but this interaction told her sothing else as well.
"I get it now." Cira nodded along, "I bet you have quite the list of complaints over there, don't you, Orelia?"
Orelia watched the room turn its attention to her, "Wha-of course. How about when you—" Cira cut her off as she flipped through her pages.
"But that's not really what this is about, is it?" Her cloud fluttered closer to the old woman, "I've been a little rude or strong-handed in monts since arriving on Icarus, sure, but overall reasonable." She glanced around the room at all the eyes filled with contempt. "Many of you just don't like . We will never see eye to eye. I cannot bla you for it. Trouble indeed follows , and it only accumulates by the day."
"Exactly!" Orelia shouted, mistakenly thinking Cira was done speaking. "It seems the whole sky is after you, and that can only hinder our pursuit of the Archive's depths."
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Cira had to give her so points. She wasn't just so bitter old woman. Her worry was that Cira would bring her trouble straight to their doorstep, impeding their life's work. She imagined Kazali appearing one day and stealing their doors or sothing. It would also be catastrophic if a fleet of witches appeared and destroyed their trial sites.
Cira let out a long sigh, "I wasn't finished, but I am relieved to hear your concerns lie with the Archive rather than the desire to be needlessly onerous." Orelia seed mildly offended at her reply, but didn't get the chance to refute. "My point is that I will very likely bring you trouble. Luckily for you, however, I am leaving soon."
This was decided on the spot. If she was going to keep that wretched demon in check, she had to rely on her whims. Lean into them.
There were two things Cira knew for certain—in a general sense.
For one, she possessed the power to walk against the current of fate. Short of cursing the world around her as she traversed it, Cira was of the belief that so long as she was aware of fate she could simply avoid it. If she ever told anyone that, they would question the veracity of her claims on first instinct.
The entire point from Cira's perspective, however, was that she did not think about it. It was a matter of course. Like that old saying, "will it and it will be".
"Part of believing in yourself is the arrogance to believe yourself infallible."
Cira thought she could rank that quote in the top ten lines Gazen regretted teaching her, but the wise old man ca up with those words on his own. aning they couldn't be wrong.
Dad was infallible, after all. Well, except for lying to pretty much my entire life about my past and my future. How did I get here?
"How soon?" Orelia's face seed tired, but still so full of spite. Cira had pretty much no idea what she was asking, having delved into a brief mory of her father's teachings for a mont. Until sobody spoke up.
"Yes, how long until you must leave us?" The off-putting Lilith looked at Cira with glistening eyes, as if she had sothing to be sad about. "Please tell us. I will miss you greatly."
This brought Cira a chuckle, inwardly at least. Ordinarily she would have spoken in depth with anyone who knew her father, but this place was full of them. He used to be the boss of most of them, Fitzgeralt included apparently.
When I think about it like that, maybe it does make sense that I'm a pureblood legacy. I'm basically on equal standing with Fitz but without the title—wait… No, that can't be right. I feel like so of these people think that way. That would explain why they are so upset at my behavior. I'm a pureblood legacy by definition to them, so it's only natural.
How annoying.
"Let's see." Cira pulled a mithril coin from a pouch at her waist and flicked it up in the air. Heads would be two, tails was one. The coin landed on tails. But Cira refused to abide fate. "Two weeks."
"That's how long I will stay on Icarus from today." Cira continued, "Until then I will attempt to behave considerately, though I will likely spend much of that ti inside the Archive or on Breeze Haven. Is this agreeable?"
"I get it." Orelia spat, "You say you will do whatever you want and leave whenever you want."
Cira was just about fed up with this lady. Just what the hell did she want? The only thing keeping her from disappearing ho and flying away right this second was the fact that that was exactly what fate wanted her to do after encountering such an irritating woman.
She was still rather annoyed at this treatnt after doing everything she could to make the situation better for everyone, but a young woman jumped out of her seat and shouted out before she had the chance to speak.
"Madam Gudilare, stop it!" She was definitely yelling at the sa woman that gave Cira so much trouble. "You're blowing things out of proportion."
Is it Orelia Gudilare? Why do so people refer to her by first or last na only. Is this girl only a first mark arbiter or sothing? How am I supposed to keep up with these customs?
"Sherri, wasn't it?" The girl was caught by surprise as Cira took her attention.
"Um, it's Sherrin, but… Sherri's okay…" She seed a bit out of sorts, "You rembered who I am?"
"Of course." Cira smiled, "Dad found you on Mudrock, right? I couldn't forget, and I totally agree."
"You would, I imagine." Orelia cut in, "You're both just disappointnts of a great man."
Cira leveled her gaze, "You are dangerously close to… No. Never mind. I'm not going to slap you as I would any other woman your age speaking to that way, for that would be the true course of fate." Cira figured the ample range was anything greater than five-hundred years old. Won that age almost always needed a sorcerous slap or two. "Instead. I would like anyone who holds a reasonable complaint against to write it down, along with a personal request, then put it in my mailbox at the base of Breeze Haven. I will fulfill these requests as I would any other job, so long as they are reasonable. That is the best offer you will get. Beyond that, please leave alone until I depart Icarus. If there is nothing else, then I take my leave—"
Fitzgeralt caught her mid-lightning storm, and she halted her transportation sorcery.
"Hold on. Orelia has not had the chance to make her final point." While it sounded like he was on her side, the expression he gave her was one of profound disappointnt.
"N-no… That's quite alright." Orelia stamred, very ungraceful of her, "I believe we've co to an understanding."
"No way!" Soone among the arbiters shouted, "I was promised a fight. Go on!"
"I made no such promise, Uriel." Fitzgeralt surprisingly replied, "You have drawn your own conclusion from my explanation of the schedule today."
"Dragon," Cira floated his way, "What are you talking about?"
He appeared remarkably stronger than before. Not just his exponentially greater aura, but even his physique was more toned. His horns had grown quite a bit to curl out almost past his face.
"My na is Uriel, child. Rember it." Cira only had an exasperated shrug to offer him, but he continued nonetheless, "That old crone took sothing from you. Now it appears she intends to keep it to herself."
The man's grin made it clear he wanted Cira to attack Orelia, but if what he was saying was true… She couldn't just ignore it.
That said, Cira wasn't all too material of a girl. She prided herself on her craft, but people stealing objects wasn't really that big a deal in the grand sche of things. She knew the woman couldn't have broken into Breeze Haven, so there was no way this was that big of a deal. Thus, Cira wasn't really too mad.
Still, she had to address it.
"Orelia." Cira appeared before her, "What have you taken from ?"
"I-I was getting to that!" She deflected, "And you really shouldn't let it just wander wherever it wants. That's a hazard to our residents here!"
"Orelia." Cira's voice only grew colder, "What is it?"
She let out a groan before summoning a wand. Channeling her mana into it, the old woman seed to withdraw sothing from a condensed space. Shaped in a cube, it was a small cage of pure black bars. Inside was a small, winged creature, pure white in complexion.
Cira couldn't believe what she was seeing. "Nina…?"
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