The Equilibrium of a Summer Day
The sky over the Great Azure Geysers was a piercing, cloudless blue. For once, the air didn't smell of old parchment, iron-scented blood, or political rot. It smelled of sulfur, damp earth, and the faint, sweet scent of the lunch boxes the Academy staff had prepared.
Leornars stood at the edge of the steaming boardwalk, his black-and-silver student coat draped over one arm. He adjusted his sunglasses, looking out over the landscape where white plumes of steam erupted from the earth like the breath of sleeping giants.
"A school trip," Leornars murmured, his voice flat. "Stacian, check the perimeter."
"Already done, My Lord," Stacian replied. She was dressed in a lighter, more casual version of her uniform, looking remarkably relaxed despite the fact that her shadow was currently scanning a two-mile radius for threats. "No assassins, no conspirators, and surprisingly, no ancient curses. Just... water."
Leornars let out a slow, cautious breath. "I truly hope this isn't another déjà vu. The last time I went to a 'scenic water location,' It didn't go too well afterwards"
"Try to enjoy the steam, Lord," Stacian said, a small, rare smirk tugging at her lips. "I believe the humans call this 'fun'."
"Alright, class! Gather 'round!" Professor Hemsley shouted, waving a brightly colored flag. "The Old Faithful Geyser is about to erupt! This is a natural marvel of mana-pressure and tectonic alignment!"
The students gathered at the railing, oohing and aahing. Among them was Porthos, who was currently struggling to open a bag of dried jerky, his face turning an alarming shade of purple from the effort.
"Professor!" Porthos gasped, finally ripping the bag open so hard that half the jerky flew into the steam vent. "Is it true that the water is hot enough to melt lead?"
"Close, Porthos! It's roughly 180°C at the core," the Professor chirped.
Leornars, leaning against a nearby railing, didn't even look over. "It's a pity the water can't melt lead, Porthos. If it could, we might be able to pour some into your skull to give your thoughts a bit of weight."
The nearby students snickered. Porthos pouted, clutching his remaining three pieces of jerky. "Hey! I'm just curious about the science!"
"Science requires a mind that can process variables, Porthos," Leornars replied, watching a massive plume of water shoot eighty feet into the air. "You are currently losing a battle against a snack bag. Let's focus on one tragedy at a time."
As the class moved to a grassy knoll for lunch, the atmosphere turned genuinely wholesome. Students were sharing sandwiches, laughing about failed spells, and enjoying the spray of the mist.
Leornars sat on a stone bench, meticulously peeling an apple with a small silver fruit knife. His movements were so precise the peel came off in one continuous, perfect spiral.
"Lord Leornars! Try some of my mother's homemade tarts!" a girl named Emel said, blushing as she held out a tray.
Leornars paused, looking at the tart. He performed a mental audit of the ingredients—flour, honey, berries, zero poison.
"Thank you, Emil The structural integrity of the crust appears... adequate," he said, taking one.
Stacian sat beside him, sipping tea from a thermos she had somehow produced from thin air. "The class seems to have forgotten you're the 'White Plague' for the afternoon,"
"Anonymity is a luxury I rarely afford myself," Leornars said, taking a bite of the tart. "It's... peaceful. Though I find the lack of a plan slightly unsettling. My mind keeps trying to find a reason to restructure the Professor's retirement fund."
"Just for today, don't," Stacian encouraged.
Just then, Porthos tripped over his own shoelaces, falling face-first into the grass and sending his juice box flying. The juice landed directly on his own head.
Leornars watched the red liquid drip down Porthos's nose. He didn't laugh; he just sighed with a heavy, existential exhaustion.
"Porthos," Leornars called out.
"Yeah?" the boy groaned from the dirt.
"I've seen civilizations collapse with more grace than you show while walking on flat ground. If gravity were a person, I'm convinced it would sue you for harassment."
"I just have soft shoes!" Porthos yelled back, struggling to stand up.
Leornars shook his head and looked back at the erupting geysers. For a moment, a genuine, tiny smile—one that had nothing to do with power or logic—flickered on his face.
"Stay close, Stacian," Leornars murmured. "The sun is actually quite warm."
"By your will, My Lord," she replied, closing her eyes and basking in the spray.