To End Every War: To End Every War, #1

By Raymond W Wilkinson

Assassinations headlined. Revolutions smoldering. War without end. Welcome to an optimistic, progressive-era world on the brink of an unfathomable global war rooted in division and rebellion. Six unique women must rise above societal prejudices and find unexpected friendship, unity, and love.

 

It is 1901, and the Vespa Academy of Sciences is at the forefront of a myth-filled globe teeming with radiant magic, new science, and old religion. The Academy seeks to end every war between the Kindred species, but lofty ideals rarely hold up in an adversarial new class of students. Journey through a school year that will intertwine Vespa's past, present, and future. Armed anarchists, whispered abominations, and incendiary calamities have returned to a fantastical world entering a modern era unlike any other.

 

Meet the Drawn Deck of Protagonists in the Grand Game of International Politics:

Viatrix –  A religious Dwarf who is as brilliant as she is blind to her family's unfortunate follies.

Kirsi – A scholarship awarded Selkie representing a species that always finds trouble in Vespa.

Zabel – A tortured Elf bound in lies and carrying apocalyptic secrets beyond all comprehension. 

Alya – A skeptical Abraxas Emira oddly dispatched from her distant and precarious land.

Kamila – A deadbeat Elector-princess on probation who has discovered a generational mystery.

Esmeralda – A Duchessa forced to unify her disappearing country before hell breaks loose.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Raymond W Wilkinson
• Release date: Oct 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9780990650157

Book preview

1 - Modicum of Courtesy

The Late Morning of Thursday, May 1, 1902 (May Day)

Bernie took two steps up the tower’s spiraling stairs at a time. Each flight of stairs ran parallel to the outside red-bricked wall, turning at every corner. Pausing at a narrow mid-level landing, she caught her breath in her auburn ankle-length skirt. I wish I were in better shape! Narrow glass-paned windows provided a view of the large driveway far below, revealing a panicked staff charging in and out of the castle doors. Most passersby in the driveway were personnel in black and red uniforms brandishing long rifles with bayonets affixed. Are the Carabinieri leaving or arriving? The castle’s walls surrounding the hilltop made it hard to tell.

Don’t panic! mused Bernie to herself. It’s not the end of the world, just the beginning of a new one… She found herself shaking nonetheless. Will this be the new normal for everyone?

Continuing up the next flight of stairs, Bernie finally heard voices at the top. So they are up here! Huffing, she clutched the metal outside handrail as if her life depended upon it. Bernie looked down to the small atrium far below and realized she had scaled six stories. Not bad for a bookworm! Looking up, all that remained above her was the tower’s loft and roof. She moved slower, finally dragging herself to the sparsely decorated, wooden-floored loft. A short iron ladder in the center went to the roof and ended at an open hatch. Bernie paused to regain her composure, aware of what she was about to witness outside. It will be chaos and panic.

…part of the port is on fire! exclaimed a familiar male voice above. I think one of the warehouses went up. It’s difficult to tell what’s going on west past the Turbella River.

Bernie marched up to the ladder and started to scale it rung by rung. I need to face the facts. The sea breeze ticked her wavy, strawberry-blonde locks, as did the salty air it brought. Finally, her head exited the high tower, catching sight of the two people above. A short-sleeved young man and woman leaned against the tall, red-white brick crenelations, each scanning the black smoke-filled horizon that dominated. The observing taller man had wavy brown locks and a confident look in his proud stature. Enzo looks like he’s ready to save the city!

Enzo pulled up a small brass spyglass telescope that gleamed in the high sun. It looks like the Academy is still fine. He slowly pivoted eastward and eyed the towering hills behind the city. I believe they’re taking refugees now from the funicular railway. They shut down the gondola lift system. About a mile eastward stood a massive white and canary-colored hilltop monastery that overlooked the entire coastline. The complex made their opposing high castle look small.

With a grunt, Bernie grabbed the ladder’s final looped exterior side rungs and pulled herself onto the slightly slanted stone roof. The woman with loose black hair before Bernie turned around, squinting her brilliant blue eyes at Bernie. Is Esmeralda surprised to see me? While certainly attractive, there was nothing overly remarkable about Esmeralda. Nonetheless, Bernie thought she always radiated a regal strength. I could use that right now. Esmeralda softened her concerned and pale face, bringing forth a warmth that overpowered the black smoke beyond. Why is she hanging out up here? Bernie pictured the Duchessa hunched over a massive conference table surrounded by murmuring advisors. Maybe she needs perspective?

Bernie? asked Esmeralda in a calm voice. "What are you doing up here? You said you would hide underneath a desk until the day ended. This is a far cry from that!"

Bernie shook her head. It turns out that hiding underneath a thick desk is boring unless the room explodes. She joined the duo at the crenellations. Speaking of explosions, how many have we had so far? The massive city surrounding them had at least five billowing fires, some commingled in the Zena cityscape below. How many have died already?

Enzo lowered his spyglass. I think nine bombs have detonated. Fortunately, the frequency of them rattling us has slowed down. He looked at Esmeralda with a deep frown on his handsome face. Cousin, either the worst is over or–

—Or the other shoe has yet to drop, replied Esmeralda. If I were a betting woman, I would guess everything has been a distraction. The city’s Carabinieri has either been deployed or is guarding the unattacked critical institutions. She took the tiny spyglass from her taller cousin and started scanning. This is no last-minute attack. It’s a well-planned and multi-stage operation with a crescendo at the finale. But where will it be held?

Bernie bit her lip in deep thought. This mysterious group has enough people to launch a full strike. Could any of my friends be in danger around the city? She felt her stomach churn while her mind cycled through friendly faces. What about the Academy? Could it be next?! Bernie looked back at the stoic monastery across from them and gasped. No! No! No!

I have considered that, replied Esmeralda as if she were discussing a sizable lunch menu. We are mobilizing the reinforcements who just arrived from the capital, but it will take time to get them there. Every road throughout Zena is now a warzone or packed with civilians fleeing to the fringes. She dropped the spyglass and looked back at Bernie with a nod.

Enzo shook his dark brown locks. You’re not worried in the slightest are you, Esmeralda? Is it because of our odd little team up there? He put a hand on his perfectly pointed chin. No offense, but I’m still not convinced they’re a solid squad. You would be better off rushing Calli and Major to reinforce the Academy with the local royal guard. They all have decades of combined experience and could teach any weapons course in one day!

There’s more to strength than just firepower, countered Esmeralda while returning the telescope to her cousin with a smirk. "Remember what my team did at the hunting palace! I’ve hammered them into a single alloyed and still-molten sword for eight months. All that remains is to plunge them into the cooling waters and pull them out as something more."

The Evening of Monday, September 2, 1901 (Eight Months Earlier)

Viatrix Corna counted the lifts currently moving past her thick lenses. Six gondola lifts were in operation, the continuous system in constant motion across the La Verde river beneath them. She observed the sprawling coastal city of Zena growing smaller as they ascended. The bullwheel at the base of the operation was now a distant marvel still logged in her mind, as was the diesel engine that powered it. Viatrix frowned as she realized this was the first time she had ridden in a gondola cabin as a student. She searched her heart for joy but found none. Why couldn’t I have done this alone? Why did it have to be with these five?

She had entered a powder keg situation due to cold logistics and warm courtesy. Lucky me. The other currently operating gondolas ahead of them were loaded with the last dregs of the female student body. At the same time, the lower platform terminal still held almost all of the male student corps waiting to be lifted. Viatrix considered it a logical process, except for the glaring fact that this gondola would end up with a few unlucky female souls who wanted to be left alone. And some of those have excellent reasons, unlike me. I should have hitched a ride with the boys. She felt her mechanical watch slowly tick away.

Viatrix observed the shafts of light that shot through the glass windows, painting all the occupants in orange lighting. The scene was fit for a photograph, and her fingers itched for the box camera in her luggage arriving elsewhere. The windows muffled a dull rumble outside, making the interior surprisingly quiet. What’s that thumping above? The five other occupants had squeezed into the compartment with Viatrix, but she kept her distance as best she could. Across from her, the resident Selkie was starting to breathe heavily and already reeked like a boozehound. Next to Viatrix, the tall Abraxas’ pupils were too large inside her orange irises.

Kicking her booted legs back and forth on the oversized bench, Viatrix briefly met eyes with the Selkie woman. A mischievous smile had crept onto the gray-skinned woman’s chubby face, who was enjoying the sight of a little dwarf. It’s a stupid sweaty seal. Viatrix fought to maintain her composure, warning off the dark-eyed Selkie with a cutting stare. It’s not my fault that I don’t fit in here. She tried not to focus on the slouching Elf, who looked far more miserable than anyone else. She’s clipped. Viatrix was sure that the sad woman was muttering to herself in the quietest voice possible, each slight mouth movement interspersed with erratic breathing.

Aren’t you a little young for this, girl? spoke the Damned Selkie in a silly-throated accent as she flexed her enormous neck muscles.

A part of Viatrix wanted to pull out her boot knife immediately and start carving up the sweaty blustering Selkie, but she thought better of it. Never provoke a Selkie. That’s what the wise and fully intact say. Viatrix knew that the Selkie was the only one of her race–male or female–at the Academy this year. Still, Viatrix couldn’t miss a free verbal shot when she had one. The bully needs boundaries. Viatrix aloofly ignored the woman to blunt the attack for several seconds, drinking in the awkwardness.

Finally, Viatrix stared back at her. I was born for this. I always wanted to say something conceited like that. Speaking of which, she said as slowly as possible, it’s the one semester ‘Selkie Wonder’ coming to the Academy. We need to take bets on how long you last… She let her voice trail off to slather on the gambling omen.

The Selkie clenched her thick, heavy hands, flexing her biceps inside her comically fitting short white blouse. I think that– she said both eagerly and hastily. Eyie thin h’at.

Mhmm! exclaimed the tall Abraxas sitting next to Viatrix, her radiant orange irises illuminating like the setting sun itself. She proudly surveyed the cabin like a queen holding court.

Viatrix knew what was coming. Kindred Wars, here we go. She knew little about Abraxases but was aware of their feelings towards elves: good, clean, old-fashioned hate. Viatrix quickly examined the horned young woman sitting next to her. Clothed in a long black dress with modest mutton sleeves, the Abraxas was suited for travel but ready for the regal abasement of a peasant with simmering rage to spare. The temple-sided horns aren’t perfect for combat, curving back and down like that. Nonetheless, Viatrix thought she had never seen such a striking female figure. What a goddess with that honey skin and wavy hair.

The Abraxas lightly snorted through her aquiline nose. Has anyone else realized who is sitting amongst us? Seriously? She stared across right at the Selkie and then back to the clipped Elf directly in front of her.

Um, mumbled the Selkie as she wiped her armpits for the fifth time, a sweaty Selkie like me? First time seeing one of us, your Honorable Dryness? I’m not used to this heat.

Viatrix suppressed a chuckle at the honorific. Wit? In a Selkie? The title felt perfect for the unsoiled Abraxas. Maybe this Selkie isn’t so bad after all.

The Honorable Dryness rolled her orange eyes and flicked back her lengthy hair, catching a few small strands in her curving horns. Dear Selkie, have you never seen one before? Or are you that ignorant regarding what is next to you?

A weak croak of surprise leaked from the Selkie. She’s not human. That means… Her dark, small eyes went wide with wonder as she slowly and painfully examined the Elf.

That she’s an Elf, said Viatrix dispassionately. Congratulations. She felt ready to say more but didn’t want to fight a war on two fronts against unknown Kindred. Play it cool.

Mhmm! said the Abraxas once more, her dark pupils larger against the orange irises. I consider myself open-minded, but this is a bridge too far. An accursed Elf? At a prestigious Academy? Have the humans lost their minds in this fair land, or did they not know?

Viatrix stifled a freckled cringe and looked at the blue-eyed human woman sitting far across diagonally from her. As far as she knew, Duchessa Esmeralda Vespa’s demeanor was always well-tempered, but cracks were starting to show in it. Rapid blinking. Bent posture. She’s mad. Very mad. Viatrix didn’t know Esmeralda personally, but the Duchessa was a prominent local leader. And the Abraxas doesn’t have a clue, at least for now.

Alya, murmured the partially obscured red-eyed Abraxas, don’t rush to judgment. The small one was undoubtedly a little sister. And less authoritative.

Sister, have you forgotten the stories? Do you remember what the Elves did to us? Alya grimaced and looked up at the ceiling supported by joists branching out from parallel girders.

Pardon my Emira, said Esmeralda as she pivoted her torso into the aisle. Vespa Academy is open to all species, despite the distasteful legacy of any of their ancestors.

Viatrix found herself holding her breath. Lungs flat, belly out. Slowly she started her breathing exercises to calm herself. Her knife felt heavy in her boot. Like any good leader, Esmeralda’s words were comforting but misleading to serve a specific purpose. All races? What a pleasant lie. More like a gaggle of Kindred emirate princesses.

Viatrix mentally checked off all non-Kindred persons who never received admittance to Vespa Academy. If you don’t look like a human, strut like a human, and live like a human, then you will be treated less than a human. Viatrix wondered if the drunk Selkie realized that she had barely passed the test. Probably not.

Alya looked down at Esmeralda with a still surprisingly confused expression. Signora, how can you speak so certainly about this? Is this not your first semester at the Academy?

It is. Esmeralda stood up and straightened out her lovely dress.

Viatrix knew what Esmeralda was doing. The dress spoke cold power and authority, while the humanity of her face radiated warmth. A vicious combination that many yield to.

Forgive me, said Alya as she perfectly bowed while seated. Am I correct in assuming that you are Duchessa Vespa?

Esmeralda went in for the kill. That is correct, Alya. But you can address me by my given name. We are about to be classmates, after all. She turned her face to the Elf, who returned the briefest of side glances. "All I ask is that you extend a modicum of courtesy to every one of your classmates. That’s not too much, is it?"

Viatrix calmly watched as everyone recoiled in one way or another as the gondola smoothly glided into the receiving terminal. She wanted to laugh aloud for the first time, but her reflexes were too wired to spring into action. Not now. Not now. Then she saw the Elf’s transformation occur. It started with little motions, like her lips ceasing to move and her hands becoming still. The Elf’s severely slouched shoulders pulled back, thrusting her chest out beneath her threadbare gray robe and huge feet. Viatrix blinked as the woman rose, reopening her tightly-goggled eyes to witness a true Elf towering over everyone else. Tall people!

Alya jumped to her feet in retaliation but came in a head shorter than the Elf. Orange eyes bored into dark gray irises. It is not unreasonable, but… The Abraxas tenderly brought out her right hand and barely stroked the Elf’s dyed brown bangs, pulling them aside to show the sadly clipped ears that Viatrix already knew the Elf had. I have so many questions regarding you, Listless One.

Finally, Viatrix saw the gray eyes flash up. Do you now? mouthed the Elf so gently that she couldn’t hear it. Alya dropped the trembling hand like she had been slapped and sharply turned away from Viatrix. Oh, Theophany, full of Joyful, Sorrowful, and Glorious Mysteries! What in the HELL was that?

Viatrix’s reaction speed kicked in when the Selkie drunkenly surged forward into the aisle with a heavy breath. She ripped her too-short legs onto the bench and stood on top of it, her hand brushing her knife with every single finger. Woah there. Viatrix hadn’t consciously realized what she had done, but she saw the Selkie’s lidded wide eyes narrow even more at the sight of her boot knife. Shame washed over Viatrix as she realized that she had almost stabbed someone for deciding to stand up. Ugh. Poor poise, even if it is a Selkie. Both of the Abraxas sisters and Esmeralda slid out of the opposite door.

Now that we see eye-to-eye, said the Selkie to both Viatrix and the Elf, how about we introduce ourselves? I’m Kirsi.

Viatrix, she said, sticking out her gloved hand. Don’t worry. I can handle the sweat. Do you have a clan name? I need to do some research on you and your questionable family.

Takala, Kirsi replied while giving Viatrix’s smaller hand a firm handshake that involved most of her upper body muscles tensing.

Viatrix secured her feet on the bench and stalwartly rode the beastly handshake. You shake like my father. Every muscle in her little body hung on for dear life as she channeled all of her dwarven strength into the ensuing arm wrestle, causing Kirsi to clench her teeth like she was having a seizure.

The Selkie quickly let go and pivoted to the Elf. So… what’s your name? Kirsi asked as newfound sweat ran down her gray face.

My name is… said the Elf almost absentmindedly with a bottomless look. Viatrix wasn’t sure if she would complete the sentence due to the prolonged pause. … you can call me Zabel. It’s nice to meet you, Kirsi and Viatrix.

Viatrix found herself quickly looking outside of the gondola’s single-paned window. Vespa Academy of Sciences complex stood stalwart outside, its Dwarven and Human master craftsmanship evident for all to see. Many first-time arriving students were gawking at the sight, their jaws slack and eyes wide. Wait until they see the library inside. She was eager to attend congregation services with her father and brother. Hopefully, they have repaired the Ascension of the Theophany quadratura in the cathedral.

There was no way around what had just happened, however. Viatrix knew an impending disaster when she saw one. All of us in the cabin are young women, but we put an equally young Duchessa on edge. She found herself shaking her head at the situation. What happens when a Dwarf, an Elf, a Selkie, and an Abraxas walk into a Zena bar together? We’ll figure out the punchline soon enough.

The Evening of Monday, September 2, 1901 (Kam’s Recounting)

Kamilia Ruszo thought riding on the gondola lift was a grand evening arrival. In her first school year, she did what every lame Vespa Academy girl did: ride IN the gondola, staring out the windows and taking in the sights. But I’ve changed since then. Now, as a sophomore, she went where no one else dared to go: the grip arm on the cabin’s roof directly beneath the stretching cable. It was peculiar, precarious, and downright perilous. In many ways, Kam considered it to be representative of her life at the moment, especially regarding her last school year at the Academy. I’ve got a second chance–best live it up.

Unfortunately, one of the last people Kam wanted to see that year was in the cabin under her. The Duchessa. Lucky me. Also beneath her were five other young women who had just boarded from both sides, the final females of the 1901 class sent to the Academy. Judging from their lack of uniforms and juvenile postures, Kam strongly suspected that every one of them was a freshman. I never saw any of them last year. She did consider them to be a distinctive bunch, however. Only the dreaded Duchessa was a human, while the other five were Kindred of various species: Abraxas, Dwarf, Elf, and Selkie. What a crew!

Kam looked down at the lower landing platform in the city of Zena, taking in the sights in the orange light setting. The vast city sprawled across the hilly coastline and was a marvel at any time of the day. I wish I could have spent more time there before going up. Nonetheless, Kam knew she would have more opportunities to return to the city on the weekends. And perhaps other days when I’m not supposed to be wandering off. She let out a little chuckle and smoothed out her poofy dark gray riding trousers tucked into her knee-high black boots. Above that was a white shirtwaist blouse that fit her lithe body poorly.

Riding high, indeed, she muttered as the wind carried away her speech.

The cabin beneath her shook a little, forcing Kam to clutch the metal grip arm with her left hand. Woah. Her pale and calloused right hand held onto her only unattached personal item: a long wooden cane with a brass head. A sudden gust of wind stripped Kam of her cresting bowler hat, causing it to take flight like a bird in the sky. Damn it! Two years in a row! Now annoyed, Kam turned her focus back to the passengers within the metal hull and the glass windows. Are they talking now? Kam almost wished she had crammed herself into the cabin, but there was little room left for a long-legged girl like herself. I’d still have my hat, though.

Bringing a black bang-covered ear to the dark metal roof, Kam strained to hear beyond the ambient noise of conveyance and breezes. Nothing! She almost struck the metal cabin with her cane but realized it would give away her position. No one needs to know that I’m up here. Kam considered the riders below a powder keg waiting for a single spark, especially considering a pretend human was avoiding discovery. We all want to pretend to be human from time to time. She absentmindedly wiggled her toes in her boots, guessing how long the Elf’s shoddy disguise would last. It won’t last long unless everyone else pretends not to notice.

Deeply unsatisfied, Kam sat back up and looked at her destination: Vespa Academy of Sciences. What an odd, mysterious place. Kam had gawked the first time she had seen it last year, but the artful wonder was now gone. Instead, Kam now saw a spring-loaded trap in the guise of a pale and sprawling former monastery complex under dark roofs. The entire nearing Academy stood tall on an even more elevated outcrop, beckoning Kam like an abusive mother with outstretched arms as the gondola system reached its upper landing destination. Sometimes the only choice is to walk into an ambush. Kam chuckled to herself and stretched in her tight blouse, letting the wild wind stroke her body.

Within a few minutes, the cabin reached the upper station, detaching from its scaling line and coming to a standstill that opened the doors. Kam went prone and crawled to the front, peeking out at the scene transpiring. A horde of female students circulated in the courtyard ahead, clucking like a pack of hens, unaware of the cat overlooking them. What a bunch of idiots. Looking beyond, Kam examined the immense cathedral and the tall, pale yellow, windowed complex walls surrounding the flanks. And here come the new arrivals. The very young Duchessa shot out first in her green day suit from the left side, her pleasant and humoring human demeanor just minutes before gone. Uh-oh, that’s an awful sign!

Kam ducked back down and hid quickly, retreating to her central riding spot. I’m not ready to say hello just yet. The horned Abraxas sisters audibly exited from the left in pursuit of the Duchessa, but Kam couldn’t see them. Instead, Kam turned her attention to the right door directly beneath and watched as the massive Elf ducked out of the cabin. The woman’s long brown bangs raised to almost the top of the gondola, her distant gray eyes gazing about. Holding her breath, Kam started sweating and desperately trying to figure out how to exit her position gracefully. Just say: ‘Hi, how’s it going there?’ She gulped.

Fortunately, the colossal elvish woman quickly decided to move on. She’s one scary-looking creature. Slowly exhaling, Kam watched as the little blonde Dwarf girl with goggles and the sweat-soaked gray-skinned Selkie woman exited without incident. That’s all of them. Kam watched as the three Kindred women started chatting casually with one another, adopting the same general mannerisms of the greater courtyard. Something went down in that cabin. What exactly made the Duchessa so mad? Kam had seen maternal disappointment from the younger woman before, but nothing like this. It must have been one of the other girls.

Tactfully, Kam grabbed her cane and backed up in a shimmying crawl. She lowered her long legs off the gondola’s back, gracefully dropping down onto the stone landing platform with barely a sound. No one in the courtyard turned to greet her, which was as relieving as it was embarrassing. Kam stood up and strode toward the masses like the seventh occupant, bobbing as she went. Time to make a new friend and pick up where I left off. I’m going to crack this Academy like a nut this year. She tapped her cane on the gravel and smirked.

The Evening of Monday, September 2, 1901 (Zabel’s Recounting)

Zabel Lusine had spent every last ounce of volition boarding the gondola lift. And now she could read the cabin like the palm of her hand. The five contrasting faces before her ranged from indifference to outright hostility. Don’t look. Don’t look. Worst yet, she had somehow ended up in the middle of all of them. To her right sat a female Selkie, and to her left was a young Human woman. A female Abraxas was positioned directly across from Zabel, the woman’s dark and curving horns adding a little head height with their large singular loops. Zabel realized that–even hunched over–she was dramatically taller than any of the occupants.

Unfortunately, Zabel soon realized that her tall counterpart scrutinized her very closely. She watched the Abraxas’s feet with her well-practiced peripheral vision, hoping the intense gaze would pass. Black leather knee boots. Two-inch heels. Well-traveled. The brightest orange eyes crept over her from head to toe, like a painter brushing a portrait. Zabel felt like a slave at the flesh market being prepared for auction by an assessor. And the assessor isn’t pleased. She kept her eyes on her own pitiful sandals, letting the painful seconds creep by like sand grains falling in a narrow hourglass. Play dead. People always get bored with cadavers.

The Human next to her chatted with the other shorter Abraxas with far softer red eyes. Zabel felt a strong rapport between the two chatting women, which did not exist in the rest of the cabin. No one else is talking. No one. The Human’s demeanor was unbearably pleasant, her voice like a warm, gentle shower in the morning. Listening to the speech rhythms, Zabel felt the young Abraxas almost trying to match her human companion’s tone. Except she has a slight accent. A Qadir native? Her big sister isn’t even trying to be engaged because she knows. But how much?

Zabel flinched slightly when the Dwarf across from her smacked her boots into the base of the bench. She noticed that the girl’s feet couldn’t even reach the ground, which amused the lackadaisical Selkie beside her. Suggestive provoking. Measured reaction. A new tension swelled in the room between the two as they locked eyes. They don’t like each other. No, it’s something more profound than that. Something almost primal. Zabel realized that the Abraxas across from her also had a revulsion for the gray-skinned woman. Is it the alcohol and the sweat? Or just the rebellious spirit that sneers at authority? It was getting difficult to breathe.

The Selkie finally opened her mouth with a slight smack that reeked of derision. Aren’t you a little young for this, girl? she snapped to the Dwarf while flexing her neck with a mighty creak.

Zabel tilted her head. She thought her voice was so strange, like ice scraping ice in the dead of night. A stranger in a strange land, lashing out because it’s the only thing that can make her comfortable. A pregnant pause followed, making Zabel shift uncomfortably. She knew that the tension in the room was loosened, but only to allow enough slack in the line for whiplash. Here comes the boom.

I was born for this, said the Dwarf in a factual tone tinged with conceit. Speaking of which, it’s the one semester ‘Selkie Wonder’ coming to the academy. We need to take bets on how long you last…

Heart aflutter, Zabel clutched her gray robe. She knows who she is. And knows what I am but is happy to ignore it. Zabel summoned every ounce of strength left to stay slouched in the decaying charade, fear of the unknown lending her a second wind. Her ear tips ached in places that no longer existed when the Abraxas finally turned her eyes back to her. Just stop!

Mhmm! loudly mused the Horned Accuser, interrupting the Selkie mid-boast. Zabel felt indignation enter the Abraxas as fast as it left the Selkie. The Accuser now had the entire cabin in on her conversation, as she had wanted. Her orange eyes cut into Zabel like knives, but then she roughly pulled them out to focus on her audience. Has anyone else realized who is sitting amongst us? Seriously? The Abraxas stared down the now silenced Selkie.

Zabel found herself fully turning her head to see the profusely sweating Selkie respond. Um, a sweaty Selkie like me? First time seeing one of us, your Honorable Dryness? I’m not used to this warm climate.

Dear Selkie, said the Accuser as she jostled back her perfect black wavy locks, have you never seen one before? Or are you that ignorant regarding what is next to you?

Zabel felt now a second person in the gondola cabin bore into her with a look. She quickly shifted her eyes to her sandals, counting the damaged broad straps interwoven over embarrassingly long feet. The Selkie’s old sandals are even in better shape.

The Selkie moaned. She’s not human. That means… The strange ice-on-ice voice quit shifting like an arctic iceberg breaking away from the greater shelf.

Green eyes coolly shot forth from the Dwarf’s goggles. That she’s an Elf. Congratulations. Zabel felt the Dwarf’s attention pass from the Selkie to her but left as fast as it came. Nonetheless, her heart was now in her throat, pounding as if it would split from her chest.

Mhmm! ruptured the Accuser, her orange fire flickering again. I like to consider myself open-minded, but this is a bridge too far. An accursed elf? At a prestigious academy? Have the humans lost their minds in this fair land, or did they not know?

Zabel almost winced when the Abraxas clicked her tongue, but another motion caught her attention. The Human woman beside her had shifted in her seat and joined the conversation. Shifting slightly to the left, Zabel side-eyed the raven-haired young woman in the green dress. It appeared to her that the Human’s soft rain-like demeanor had vacated the cabin, leaving something much more severe behind. Blue-blooded. Entitled. Authoritative. The woman had now started tapping the toe of her brand new slipper like a dancer to an unseen tune, ready to insert herself. The Abraxas has crossed the line.

Alya, said the smaller red-eyed Abraxis, don’t rush to judgment. The younger girl had seen the posture of the Human and was worried about blowback.

Sister, said Alya the Accuser, have you forgotten the stories? Do you remember what the elves did to us? The orange eyes finally left Zabel and cut into the ceiling of the gondola, trying to search the darkening sky above.

Pardon my Emira, said the Human sternly as she leaned into the aisle next to Zabel, Vespa Academy is open to all species, despite the distasteful legacy of any of their ancestors.

Alya looked at the Human woman like a flanked and confused general. Signora, how can you speak so certainly about this? Is this not your first semester at the Academy? Zabel felt the overwhelmingly judgemental tone.

It is. Esmeralda jerked into the aisle, pushing off her toes like a ballerina and coming to a parade rest like a soldier.

Zabel could tell that the gondola lift was now close to the upper terminal. Her slouched chest hurt, but the greater pain came from her heart. I have to stand. I have to stand. She was willing to stand for me. Once upon a time she would have cried, but she had no tears to shed. The yawning abyss was too all-consuming for that. I’m just a husk waiting to be blown away.

Alya awkwardly bowed while still seated, her threaded horns approaching Zabel. Forgive me. Am I correct in assuming that you are Duchessa Vespa?

That is correct, Alya, Esmeralda said precisely. "But you can address me by my given name. We are about to be classmates, after all. All I ask is that you extend a modicum of courtesy to every one of your classmates. Zabel felt her not unkind glare as she emphasized the statement. That’s not too much, is it?"

Zabel realized Alya was examining her pair of nice boots with a pained face. NOW. STAND UP, YOU LIFELESS HUSK. The thoughts rushed over Zabel, lifting her like a gangly marionette. She felt her shoulders pull back as her head rose to a commanding height far above any woman in the cabin. Alya raised her beautiful head from looking at the floor, her orange eyes a mixture of shock and awe. Everyone else was also gaping at her, their emotions commingling like threads woven into a chaotic, yet brilliant, tapestry. Zabel instinctively kept her eyes looking down and away from everyone, even Esmeralda, who stood beside her.

Then it happened. Alya arose like a burning phoenix from the ashes and stood beside Zabel. It is not unreasonable, but… Curiosity radiated from her like a bright electric lighthouse beneath a starless midnight sky. She carefully drew out her manicured fingers and touched Zabel’s brown bangs.

Zabel had had enough. Another woman in the cabin might have pushed the Abraxas away, perhaps even slapped her. The Selkie certainly would. But Zabel wasn’t just any other Kindred woman. She knew she wasn’t even just any other Elf. I am stone under pounding water. I do NOT cringe before my inferiors. Zabel realized that she had won the battle with the Abraxas. This touch is but a desperate, hungry lunge before a dignified retreat.

Alya lifted Zabel’s bang to reveal her clipped left ear. I have so many questions regarding you, Listless One.

LIKE WHAT YOU SEE? LIKE THE PAIN AND THE SORROW? WILL IT HELP YOU SLEEP TONIGHT KNOWING THAT I HAVE SACRIFICED MORE THAN YOU EVER WILL? LET ME HELP YOU LOOK DEEPER. DEEP AS YOU DARE GO, SILLY LITTLE GIRL.

Zabel brought her abyss-filled eyes to meet the ceaseless orange irises. Do you now? she whispered, her lips stiffly throbbing to the words. DO YOU NOW, PRECOCIOUS CHILD?

Alya dropped her hand as if a venomous snake had just bit it, trying to hide the tremble that ran through her rapidly blinking eyes. Zabel’s falling bangs brushed her ear as the Dwarf and the Selkie stood together. Shellshocked, Alya broke away from Zabel as quickly as possible, spinning toward Esmeralda and Dina. A glorious surge pulsed through Zabel, filling her tall husk with something eerily murky yet satisfactory. OH, YOU DRANK DEEP FROM THE WELL… BUT FULFILLMENT IS NOT FOR YOU. Zabel fought against the roaring voice echoing in her head, quieting it with her will. Silence. Silence.

Let’s get going, said Esmeralda. I’ve had enough of this scene. The Human left as the gondola door opened automatically. Both Abraxas sisters quickly followed, but Alya stopped before the door as if frozen in time.

The Selkie looked at both Zabel and the Dwarf, who was now oddly standing on the bench. Now that we see eye-to-eye, how about we introduce ourselves? I’m Kirsi.

Viatrix, said the Dwarf. She stuck out her gloved hand to the Selkie. Don’t worry. I can handle the sweat. Do you have a clan name?

Takala, said Krisi the Selkie as they engaged in a violent handshake almost as intense as the standoff that had just occurred. Zabel watched as the two made almost comically contorted faces. They are testing each other yet again.

So… said Kirsi as she disengaged from the rapturous handshake and faced Zabel. What’s your name?

My name is… said Zabel as she relaxed, … you can call me Zabel. it’s nice to meet you, Kirsi and Viatrix. It really is.

And suddenly, Zabel realized that she had arrived at the first home she had ever had. Not just a locale with a strange roof over her head amid leering strangers but a place that welcomed her for who she was. I am now a student. And I am something MORE. It was a strange feeling that throbbed a deep pain and hummed a joyful tune simultaneously. She thought it was so concrete that she could walk on it. Run on it. A solitary tear flowed down from her left eye. She swallowed so deeply it felt like choking.

Fresh air surged into the cabin from the open gondola doors, luring her to hunch and duck outside to look at the Vespa Academy of Sciences complex. Zabel couldn’t believe the sight. Female students scurried to and fro, eagerly talking with one another, their male counterparts still yet to unload. Excitement surrounded the beautiful, never-ending buildings, their bright walls and dark roofs flowing onward into the unseen distance beyond the cathedral.

Zabel felt life in abundance, not individual walking biographies, but the breath of the living. She put her hand on her slight belly. Zoe. I will name them Zoe.

2 - Excess Luggage

Zena Tribune - August 7, 1901

QUEEN ABSCONDS WITH ELECTOR

Queen Mazzola Flees Melorian Palace During Night; Now In Karolingian Empire with Elector Kasper; King Mazzola Rages; Crown Prince Mazzola Attending Vespa Academy as Freshman Alongside Young Prince-Elector Kasper

The Evening of Monday, September 2, 1901 (Kirsi’s Recounting)

Kirsi Takala jumped to her feet in the gondola with a spryness that finally made her little seating rival flinch visibly. The Dwarf pulled her legs up and shot backward onto the bench, making her slightly taller than Kirsi. Only then did Kirsi realize the Dwarven girl had a boot knife tucked away. She thought she saw one of the girl’s stubby hands brush it, but the motion was so nonchalant and quick it was difficult to tell. Ho-ho! That got my blood up.

Now that we see eye-to-eye, said Kirsi to her closest companions stiffly, how about we introduce ourselves? I’m Kirsi.

Viatrix, said the Dwarf. She stuck out her gloved hand. Don’t worry. I can handle the sweat. Do you have a clan name?

Takala, Kirsi replied, giving Viatrix’s little hand the firmest handshake she could muster, putting her entire upper body into it. Kirsi was surprised to discover that Viatrix shook just as hard in return, her compact frame made of stone. She almost felt her teeth rattling and quickly disengaged from the handshake. The Abraxas sisters had already slid out on the aisle with Esmeralda, who led the way out of the opposing door. With resolute endurance, Kirsi turned and looked at the Elf, who had grabbed a small knapsack.

So… what’s your name? Kirsi asked as one more trickle of sweat ran down her face. I should have just jumped out of the door and swam the rest of the way in.

My name is… The Elf slowly made eye contact with her as if all time and space had slowed between them. Her gray eyes had a distant thousand-league look that simultaneously peered into Kirsi’s soul. … you can call me Zabel. It’s nice to meet you, Kirsi and Viatrix.

Kirsi smiled painfully and looked out at the sun-streaked window at the now-looming Vespa Academy of Sciences on a high hilltop. The broad, pale, bricked foundation jutted out like a monolithic ship capable of mortally wounding the city of Zena beneath it. Brightly colored stone and brick layered with white constituted the three-story walls, while a reddish-brown roof stretched well above. She gaped at the central cathedral towers that soared beyond her limited perspective. To Kirsi, the bastion of learning embodied Medius human ideology and stood committed to dominating the short gray-skinned woman with a Selkie acceptance letter. Wow.

The Evening of Monday, September 2, 1901 (Vespa Academy)

Kirsi slowly removed herself from the gondola, her sandals crunching on the gravel-filled courtyard. Looking up again, she quickly realized that the cathedral towers were not half as tall as she initially thought. Big. But not too big. The greater complex, however, was another story entirely. While the southside gallery platform that accepted the gondola terminal was tiny, the east and west complex wings that rounded out the courtyard felt endless. How long do they stretch? Where does it end? Squinting in the quickly setting sun, Kirsi estimated the conjoined square courtyard to be about 100 feet long.

You okay? asked an amused voice to Kirsi’s left. You look like you’re on the moon.

Kirsi looked down and eyed Viatrix, who had joined her on the gravel. The little girl had pulled off her goggles and put on a genuine pair of heavy-framed glasses, which made her look slightly older. She still doesn’t look like she belongs here, just like me. Zabel stood a few feet away, a distant gaze on her face. Kirsi found the elf’s posture odd, particularly the hand on her belly. What a weirdo. The gondola drama felt old to Kirsi, especially when she considered all the hubbub that was happening now. The air is cooler up here. Thank the gods.

Kirsi grunted and stretched her stiff shoulders yet again. Doing fine… just taking it all in. I’m a peasant girl not used to fancy stuff like this. She shifted her sandals in the gravel, enjoying the feel as she wiggled her toes. At least my feet feel at home. Zabel also shuffled her sandaled feet, almost rocking back and forth like a freshly minted mother beside a cooing crib. Still weird.

Viatrix smirked, her freckles contorting around her lips and teeth. I shouldn’t be either, but my father and brother are professors at the Academy. I’ve been here a few times, so I’m acclimated to the luxury.

Two professors in the same family?! Kirsi sputtered. That’s crazy! But they’re both, you know… She found the words dying on her lips as she looked around at the host of Human women swarming around her, their scurrying befitting ants in a mound disrupted. There must be a hundred here!

Both Dwarves? Kirsi, lower your eyes just a little bit. There are a bunch of very short and stocky ladies around here too. Viatrix pointed with her stubby index finger at a nearby Dwarf woman with brown hair tied up in a bun. No sooner had she done so than two more bunned brethren joined the first brunette. All three then shuttled off together for a distant corner of the yard while merrily giggling. Viatrix waved at one of the girls, who quickly returned the favor.

Kirsi found herself examining the crowd a second time. Ten or so horned women strutted about, their tall, graceful figures contrasting sharply with all but a few prominent human women. Abraxases. Suddenly she spotted a short dark green-skinned figure nearly the size of a Dwarf. Kirsi squinted at the partially obscured woman, noting the oversized nose and long, pointed ears. Goblin students are prowling the gravel! She clenched her fists and ground her jaw as the truth slowly filtered into her brain. The sweat began to trickle down her brow once more. I can’t believe I showed up at this damn place. Damn, so-called Kindred.

Isn’t it beautiful? said Zabel as she shot up to them in about two lazy steps, her stilt-like legs putting her far above everyone in the courtyard. The life… the synoptic emotion… the commingling of Kindred. Her voice was much stronger now, full of a harsh and throaty accent that felt warm and joyous.

Kirsi felt her brow scrunch together, her eyebrows unifying into a harsh wall. Zabel, you are the only Elf here. I am the only Selkie allowed. She stared up at the still-smiling woman. We are treated this way because of our ancestors, and it’s injustice! And your mother didn’t even do anything terrible here like mine, elf.

Heads up, said Viatrix as she cleared her throat. Her braids jiggled as she motioned with her head toward an approaching Esmeralda with another young human woman in tow. All three Kindred women lined up like examined soldiers in a dress parade. Together they formed an abruptly ascending staircase in height.

Greetings! shouted Esmeralda over the ambient noise of the crowd. I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself to you three earlier. That gondola ride was quite the trip, wasn’t it?

Uh, yeah… replied Kirsi as she suddenly realized that Esmeralda’s green attire threaded in gold must have cost more than what her father made as a shipwright in a month. The Human projected a confidence that radiated with regal strength. Kirsi knew she could only muster that gaze when plastered by a clear, flammable liquid. Even in a crowd, she looks strong. It must be nice not to sweat in that outfit.

Esmeralda mischievously winked as if Kirsi had uttered an inside joke amongst old friends. As previously stated, you can call me ‘Esmeralda’ and not worry about proper etiquette inside the Academy. Is everyone okay with that?

Kirsi chuckled loudly and forced a vague smile. I wouldn’t know proper etiquette if it spat on me. My people insult each other while giving violent handshakes and back slaps. And you don’t seem like the kind of girl who would like a back slap.

Well then, said Esmeralda hurriedly, perhaps I can get you acquainted with Zena decorum over the semester! It’s Kirsi, correct? She then shifted her gaze to the other two women. And Viatrix and Zabel? Her warm smile had returned as quickly as it had left in the gondola.

Kirsi nodded her head alongside the Dwarf and Elf. It made logical sense to her that all three of their names would already be well-known, as they all had unique connections to the Vespa institution. Plus, this human is a natural-born leader. Anyone would have a tough time ruling if they couldn’t remember someone’s name when they needed to. Kirsi bit her lip, aware that most words thrown at her today would go in one ear and out the other. What were the names of those two sisters again?

Esmeralda put her arm around the slightly shorter woman next to her. Everyone, this is Bernadetta. She is my aide and a freshman journeying to the Academy. You can just call her ‘Bernie.’ Say ‘hi’ to everyone, Bernie. Esmeralda turned her head and squeezed her friend.

Hi to everyone, Bernie, said Bernadetta. A solitary eyebrow shot up, along with a quirk on her lips that morphed into a smirk. Round green eyes peered out beneath a short mop of wavy strawberry-blonde hair that looked messy and perfect simultaneously.

Ugh, moaned Esmeralda as she let go of the woman. Let me assure you that Bernie is not a simpleton, despite her best efforts to appear otherwise. She is the most competent person I know and will be a great friend to you during your entire stay here. Isn’t that right? She shot another glance at her friend.

Almost right, Es. Bernie glanced about the gathered group, her sly face possessing an almost fox-like look in the henhouse. I would certainly say that your majordomo has the leg up there. He is amazing! She shook her head with another smirk.

Esmeralda nodded in agreement, her braided dark hair shifting. Okay, I’ll settle for deeming you the most competent woman I know. Her blue eyes twinkled as she looked at Kirsi.

Kirsi nodded. It’s good to meet you, Bern… ie? She looked at the tiny woman from head to toe. Bernie appeared to be wearing some kind of uniform consisting of a long auburn skirt and a pale yellow shirtwaist blouse that was slim in the arms. A high collar, shirt cuffs, and boots rounded out the fringes. Kirsi thought that the attire fit Bernie well but looked slightly odd. Is she wearing camouflage out here? She could hang her legs off the roof, and no one would notice. Kirsi looked back at the top. I could sweat all day in that blouse and not ruin the armpits! I need one! She found herself unconsciously mopping her soaked pits yet again.

Viatrix tilted her head down respectfully. What Kirsi said. To blend in, I need to acquire as many vertically challenged friends as possible. She glanced sideways at Kirsi. And yes, that is the school uniform we will wear soon. There’s a reason why we sent in measurements along with the rest of our personal information beforehand.

Esmeralda turned her pleasant gaze to the dwarf. Bernie, I think you have some competition for that female title. Regarding logistics, all our excess luggage is headed up the funicular railway that leads into the north entrance. We’ll pick it up in the… her voice trailed off as she looked beyond the three lined-up Kindred women.

Well, well, well, snarked a robust female voice behind Kirsi. The Duchessa has arrived!

Not one to be caught unawares, Kirsi pivoted to eye the new incoming woman as she streaked in with meteorite velocity. Unlike Bernie, this Human woman wore a magnificent flowing purple dress with a mildly plunging neckline. Kirsi was no fashion expert, but she thought the outfit needed to be in a better place. Is she crashing a party or something? Where is the wine glass in hand? I’d take a glass myself right about now. The woman had long brown wavy hair, an annoyingly cute, plump face, and bright eyes that were mildly repulsive. Wondrously white teeth fanged out of her mouth when she came to a stop. Yikes.

Yes, said Esmeralda with a suddenly stoic face, the Duchessa has gathered with her friends. And Signora Lauretta Noce. I’m glad to see that you arrived in one piece. Her voice had become so formal that Kirsi waited for a curtsy. It didn’t come.

Lauretta reeled back in her pearly white incisors. It was an easy trip, but I miss my city already. Brenta is lovely this time of year, especially when you’re on the canals in a gondola and a breeze ruffles your hair. She flipped her locks over her purple-clad shoulder. Our academy is perfectly situated on the city’s island, making it much more convenient than this little… hilltop. Or hillock? She smacked her thick red lips in disapproval.

Yet you still attend the podunk Vespa Academy. Esmeralda leaked a humble smile. I am deeply honored by such a heartfelt pursuit of knowledge, especially at the cost of worldly comforts. She tilted her head ever so slightly to the side, befitting a floppy-eared dog unsure of what was before it.

Hmpf, snorted Lauretta as she spun her ample backside around and shot away as fast as she came. Several other women formed alongside her, each eager to speak with the mildly foreign woman covered in wealth.

Bernie leaned in conspiratorially. How much did she spend on her hair at a Zena salon today? Did no one tell her that the gala is months off and the boys aren’t even up here yet?

Esmeralda let out a deep sigh. Bernie, your innocence is endearing, but now is as good a time as any to shatter it. Women don’t put that much effort into their hair to please a simple man. They get scalping, moisturizing, curling, and toning treatments for hours at great expense to intimidate the greatest and most wicked power of all: fellow women. And Lauretta did succeed in her mission or at least had a pyrrhic victory. I need to put more time into my hair.

Zabel awkwardly mimicked Bernie’s posture with a severely bent back. It’s the head that counts, not the hair that rests upon it. I could feel the brokenness within that Human. All she has are allies and enemies here, not friends or family who will love her for who she is. It’s sad.

What the hell are you, Elf? Kirsi felt conflicting emotions arise within her heart and mind. The Elf leaning in before her had poorly maintained hair and clothing but was gifted with a queenly face and exquisite physique. I’ve got nothing that compares with her, except maybe my breasts and a few curves boys might like. And she is being nice toward some silly Human girl who makes me look like a tramp in comparison. Kirsi wondered if Zabel would graciously lean over to Esmeralda tomorrow and express her tender sympathy for the poor homely Selkie girl who would never fit in with anyone.

Suddenly Kirsi remembered who she was: a picker of low-hanging fruit. I’m not the smartest, the prettiest, or the most sympathetic woman present. Yeah… chuckled Kirsi. I feel sorry for our little purple Gondola over there as she floats down the river of tears to the cafeteria dessert bar. She crossed her arms like a guard barring entry into the land of heartfelt sympathy. Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream!

A tense silence ensued as every woman exchanged glances. Bernie was the first to rupture, doubling over and giggling loudly. Viatrix lost her cool, slapping her thigh and pulling up her glasses to wipe her eyes. Esmeralda covered her face with her hands and tried not to make too much noise, red cheeks blushing through her pale fingers. Only Zabel failed to laugh, but she didn’t possess a scolding look on her face as she stood tall once more.

Kirsi, bubbled Esmeralda as she lowered her hands, I want you to report all new nicknames to me as soon as you designate them. In the meantime, I’ll try not to laugh too hard next time I cross paths with Gondola.

I’ll call them as I see them, boss. Kirsi stuck out her chest in pride.

Attention, everyone! boomed a voice from near the cathedral. Attention ladies and… well, just ladies! The voice carried quite well in the courtyard.

Kirsi and the rest of the group turned together to face the somewhat distant speaker. An old Human in a dark robe with a crazy white beard stood on a wooden box, his bulging eyes scanning the crowd. A silver necklace hung low about his neck, its chains ending in a matching silver phylactery. Is he a Theophanic priest? Or staff? Or both?

Oh, thank goodness, murmured Viatrix next to her. That is Rector Montes. I don’t think I could have handled another bodacious woman showing up abruptly.

Thank you! shouted the Rector to the crowd. I apologize for the delay, but we are ready to guide you to the women’s dormitory. Likewise, we need to clear the courtyard for the boys about to ascend. So without further ado, please follow me down the east wing through the doors to your right. He motioned to small dark doors in the yellow and white east wing walls. All of the women in the courtyard started to congregate on that side chaotically, their chattering voices returning as the old Rector jogged to the now-opening entrance.

Esmeralda led the group to a middling point in the forming line, graciously elbowing her way into the cluster. A few women gave her looks but backed off when they saw her dress with the prominent lapel pin. Kirsi and Zabel brought up the flanks, their tremendously odd figures drawing more stares. However, no one got near them, which amused Kirsi greatly. Soon the entire procession started moving, working at a half-decent pace as several hundred shoes started to leave the gravel and clop on the hard marble flooring within.

Up ahead, Esmeralda swiveled her head back toward the group. Right now, we’re going under the marble hall, which takes up both floors above us. But my favorite place is still up ahead. It’s not a room–you’ll see. She turned back to navigate the doorway steps.

Kirsi became one with the procession as they passed through nice but mundane hallways and rooms. The ambient chatter around her consisted of dry observations, speculation about the handsome boys flying up to greet them, some old political fart dying, and the Kasper-Mazzola Affair. Wait, what? She felt her ears pricking up like a goblin’s at the last conversational item. Affair? Cheating? Elicit midnight theatrics? Kirsi felt her blood pumping again with the allure of juicy pulp dangled before her. She hung back a little, trying to drink more sweet juice. Come on! Come on! Ears don’t fail me now!

Eavesdropping now, are you? came a harsh voice suddenly beside her.

Jolted from her reverie, Kirsi realized an unknown student had brilliantly snuck up on her from behind. She looked to her right and quickly assessed the Human interloper in lockstep with her like an old friend. The beige woman was a few inches taller than her, a lithe figure with short black hair ending in bangs. Her pale green eyes were deep-set in baggy eye sockets and suspiciously wicked, beaming forth with a ghostly fury. I’ve never seen so much trouble packed into one woman. And I was almost just stabbed by a crazy little Dwarf girl.

Nooo, sputtered Kirsi, my ears just hear things. I can’t help myself. She felt herself blushing a little. What am I, twelve? Suddenly, she realized the woman was walking with a cane and wore manly pants poofed above knee-high leather boots. Not a single woman amongst them wore anything resembling the getup. Behold, it’s the poster child for Medius tomboys. This is getting weirder and weirder.

The woman nodded her head. Hey, I like juicy whispers like the next base woman. She tapped her cane on the floor with a perfect rhythm. Don’t worry. You’re in elegant yet crass company. It’s Kamila, by the way. You can call me Kam!

Kirsi! proclaimed the Damned Selkie. I’m the new Selkie!

Uh, yeah. I can see that. Kam bobbed her bangs with a shake of her head. I was friends with the last Selkie here too. Dom Kasper, the male Selkie, and I were the best of pals during our freshman year. She had raised her cane like a professor standing next to a chalkboard, almost whacking an unobservant woman. I’m a sophomore now, by the way.

Kirsi felt her head spin as they finally reached the cafeteria. The eating facility was a long room running south to north, its ceiling reaching