Six days were left until the Hollowing. More and more students talked about it with each passing day, excitedly discussing how they want it to go.
Not paying too much attention to them, Cyril arrived at the training hall for their first lesson of the day, where a different thing piqued his interest.
It seems the rumor of his 'arrest' unsurprisingly spread to people already, and along with it also the news of his punishment.
To his surprise, for the first time in his student life, his fellow classmates stared at him with something close to pity in their eyes. Although there was a healthy dose of gloating in there too, of course.
Is this 'Room of Reflection' some famous place?
"I never heard of it, and I pay attention to the latest gossip."
He shrugged it off and walked towards the weapons rack.
This time there was no snake hiding under his clothes. Atheris was left in the responsible care of Tigris. He could only hope there would be no repeat of yesterday.
As he grabbed the wooden spear, twirling it in his hands, two people came over with varying expressions.
"How did it go?" Rose asked with curiosity.
"I've heard a lot of people tried to catch Atheris, but she easily evaded all of them. Is that true? I found it hard to believe, but many showed the bite marks to prove it."
"…?"
Her question made him freeze in his movements. He slowly glanced at Rhamn, who was whistling in a dramatic fashion nearby.
Atheris bit more people than those two staff members?
"Maybe."
"..."
"You never asked! Who cares? They are fine! If some mage complains because of a small bite mark, they would get laughed out of the infirmary!"
The local healers are not you.
Cyril shook his head, internally wondering if the snake's punishment was too light.
"Of course not!"
"…I didn't know she bit the students, but yes, Atheris has a good ability," he replied as he recovered.
At his words Rose nodded, momentarily amused, then she longingly gazed in the distance.
"I really wonder where you get these magic creatures. I guess nobles have their means."
It looked like she really wanted to have some magic creature of her own. Be it for one reason or another.
"Don't even think about it."
I am not, and you know it.
The thoughts of 'making' a magic creature for someone else inevitably flashed in his mind, but he dismissed them immediately. Morpho, Tigris, and Atheris, in a strange way, gave him an impression of having to take care of children.
Perhaps that's what any proud owner of a cat or a dog would say, but they really weren't pets. Not to mention that even thinking about giving away something that came from his body felt uncomfortable on many levels.
"You could ask around," he replied to Rose's slightly purposeful words with dismissal.
Then, he glanced at Myra, who stayed abnormally quiet nearby. This auburn-haired girl stared at him with such intensity she was about to dig a hole through him.
"What's wrong?"
"…About that Room of Reflection. Can't you ask for the punishment to change? Or maybe just don't go at all?"
He frowned, but before he could say anything Myra continued.
"We've asked around about it. The upperclassmen seem really scared of it!"
"Cowards."
Rose slowly nodded, her eyes giving him a mysterious look. "They say those who enter that place change forever. Even the most violent students suddenly become different, quiet, and more withdrawn. When their friends ask them, they refuse to talk about what happened in there, avoiding the question entirely."
"Not a single person who'd been there has told the truth so far…"
Myra's black eyes held a growing concern. With each word from Rose, she was becoming more and more worried.
"Is that so?" Cyril calmly replied, unimpressed. "I think they exaggerate to scare the freshmen."
Immediately Rose's face lost all its mystique as she shrugged. "Yeah, I think so too."
"Thinking logically, there is no way Ailanthus could do anything drastic to its students."
"You are probably right..." Myra mumbled, her eyes wandering about.
"I can see Margaret doing something drastic, though."
...Yeah.
"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."
He shook his head, getting rid of any stray thoughts, and began warming up for the lesson. Whatever it was, he was ready for it.
Soon the bell rang, and Professor Rendel yelled out for all to gather in front of him.
Filled with familiar pain, the students walked towards the inevitable.
To Cyril it was a regular training session, which he didn't find too demanding. He only looked forward to the duel part of it. Perhaps that's what earned him the respect of their professor.
Today though, as he familiarly clashed with Myra, dodging and parrying her strikes and thrusts, he noticed something wrong.
She made more slip-ups than usual. Lately her eyes lacked that sharp glint he saw from her in the past, but today she grew completely careless.
He subconsciously held back midfight, finding the change peculiar and a bit frustrating.
"Alright, stop! ...It was a good fight." Professor Rendel yelled for them to end.
His face held a hesitating expression, though he said nothing in the end.
Myra took a long breath and immediately ran up to Cyril. She opened her mouth before he could ask any question.
"Cyril, do you have the time today to go to Alvin with that herb you gave me?"
Her voice seemed cheerful, with subtle desperation.
"...I need to visit the Room of Reflection, remember?"
We just talked about it.
"Ah! Right! Sorry, I forgot for a moment. I'll go by myself then, it's alright."
"..."
As he looked at her shame-filled face, he got a certain urge. Logically he understood that the best course of action was to let her go on her own. She could take care of herself just fine.
But whenever he remembered Alvin's face and his words about doing charity work, somehow he got a bad feeling about it all. He couldn't understand why, but he didn't like him.
That feeling urged him to shake his head at this moment.
"No, let's go together tomorrow. I want to see what happens to that herb. There is no harm in waiting for one more day."
"Okay..." Myra nodded with disappointment, her black eyes turning a little bit deeper.
The sight only made Cyril more convinced of his decision.
After a lackluster training session, the bell finally rang and the students went for their next lesson.
During Potion Making Myra continued her streak of absentmindedness. She stared at the bubbling cauldron in front of her with an empty expression, like a dog suddenly seeing her reflection.
As the bear-like professor didn't seem to mind the students helping each other, Cyril and Rose had to step up and guide her actions.
"Just put the salamander's tail next. You've cut it already," Cyril explained as he stood over her cauldron. It was his turn to help, as Rose kept up with her study.
With a certain spark in her eyes, Myra quickly grabbed one of the ingredients on her desk, throwing it in the cauldron with what almost seemed like desperation.
Her enthusiasm was appreciated, only it was the wrong ingredient.
"…!"
"Myra, stop!" He tried to pull her hand, but she was faster.
The ingredient disappeared into the murky waters of the cauldron, and immediately a reaction happened. Somehow, she picked the worst possible ingredient to throw in at this moment.
In a single breath, the waters of the cauldron bubbled and overflowed with such strength that they coated Cyril's and Myra's hands.
"…"
He stood still as a murky liquid dripped down from his arm. It burned through his sleeve, reaching skin directly. He felt a certain tingling on his arm but was otherwise unharmed.
However, Myra fared worse. Her arm turned red, shaking from pain.
Their bear-like professor acted as if he had seen a ghost. With a deathly pale face, he ran up to them with a speed that defied his heavy build.
He desperately cast healing spells on both Cyril and Myra.
Her arm stopped shaking, though it was still red.
"Quickly, go to the infirmary!" he yelled to both of them.
…
Cyril, his uniform torn once again, sat on one of the beds of the infirmary. He was completely unharmed, but it was bothersome to explain, so he simply went through with the process.
He calmly observed Myra being treated by the healer. Once her arm had fully recovered and they had endured the healer's unexpected lecture, he and Myra sat down together on the nearby bed.
"What are you doing?" he calmly asked her.
Myra shrank, sheepishly staring into the wall, away from him.
"I've made a mistake, sorry."
"…"
"…You know, are you sure you are fine? Maybe we should stay here for the rest of the day just in case," she cautiously whispered, still looking away.
"I am more than fine. With Selene's technique my skin is durable enough." He shook his head, then threw one last glance at her arm. There were no signs of any damage left.
Cyril remained silent for a moment, contemplating her actions today.
He refused to believe someone was that careless. It seemed like Myra purposefully sabotaged her own cauldron. Coupled with her words just now, an unusual guess formed in his mind…
But maybe it was his arrogance leading him to such thoughts.
"Hmm?"
Myra sabotaged her cauldron and burned her arm just to make him avoid a small academy punishment? That seemed ridiculous, so he decided to ask directly.
"…Did you do this because you don't want me to go to the 'Room of Reflection'?"
Myra immediately froze, her black eyes shaking around. On her face was the most pinpoint-accurate expression of a person caught in the act.
Really?
"This bitch! She tried to harm you!"
Or protect… in her own way.
Myra remained silent, sweat trickling down her forehead.
Cyril finally sighed, then calmly put his hand over her shoulder.
"You have to relax." He made his voice sound as calming as he possibly could.
Somehow, her anxiety-ridden state was hard to look at, giving him the urge to act.
"Just trust me. I promise I will be fine."
"The reason for her worry is so stupid it's mind-boggling."
If that reason is actually making her worry, then it's an important one.
"If it makes it easier. Margaret will not go too hard on me. She knew my mother, and that affects her opinion of me today."
It seemed his words finally had an effect. Myra's breathing turned more even, her heartbeat slowing down to its normal rate.
She looked at him and slowly nodded, an awkward smile on her face.
Before he could say anything else, the bell rang. It seems they've missed the rest of the lesson.
Immediately, the door to the infirmary opened, and a few staff members entered with strict expressions. They clearly did not share Myra's worries.
"Cyril Thorne, come with us!"
Their timing couldn't be better.