Choice

"It's too late to regret your actions, you barbaric fool," Isabella states coldly, her eyes narrowing as she assesses her opponent. 'If he knows this spell, does he know how to counter it?' she wonders silently, her mind racing with possibilities and strategies.

Zelo, for his part, lets out a prolonged yawn, his body language exuding an air of bored annoyance rather than concern. 'Hmm... how troublesome, the spell is far from perfect, but...' Within his mind, an image surfaces—the stern, imposing figure of the eldest child of Duchess Aurora, a reminder of the consequences of his actions. 'That monster will definitely come after me if I leave any traces.' He groans internally, the weight of his predicament sinking in. "I fucking hate the great empire," he mutters under his breath, his disdain for the situation evident.

Isabella, seizing the opportunity, flicks her wand and sends a fire orb hurtling towards Zelo. 'Let's test the stability of this spell...' he contemplates with a hint of curiosity, raising his hand to conjure a magical shield. But as soon as the shield materializes, lightning strands from around the cage lash out, wrapping around his arm and sending agonizing shocks through his entire body. The magic shield shatters instantly, and as the electric tendrils recede, the orb impacts his face squarely.

Isabella's glare intensifies as Zelo coughs and struggles to regain his composure. 'What is wrong with this man's physique?' she ponders, her annoyance growing by the second, while he groans, "Ugh... this spell is a pain." For the first time, he straightens up, shaking his hair to extinguish the lingering flames.

Below, Kaida gnaws on her nails, her anxiety palpable. 'What's going on? I'm so confused. Isabella looks tired; I mean, she did explode a portion of the forest fighting him, but why doesn't he look tired?' She rummages through her pouch and pulls out a mana potion. "Isabella, catch!" she exclaims, tossing the potion upwards.

Isabella snatches the potion out of the air with wind control and downs it in one gulp, grimacing at the taste. 'I hate how these taste...' she thinks, suppressing the urge to vomit.

Zelo, now somewhat refreshed, lays down his terms. "Here's what's going to happen, kids. I'm going to take this one with me, so don't interfere, or I will break your limbs." Isabella, about to retort, "How dare you look down o-" finds herself abruptly silenced as Zelo appears behind her and strikes the back of her neck with bone-shattering force.

'I knew it, this girl is well prepared,' Zelo observes, noting the aftermath of his attack. He glances at his hand, now gruesomely dangling from his arm by mere tendons. 'She had a protective charm. The charm exploded as soon as I made contact with the back of her neck while casting a barrier at the same time. This girl is aware of her weak points. Good thing I used excessive force.'

The lightning cage fizzles out, its electric grasp relinquishing its hold on the forest clearing. Zelo, with a grimace, lands solidly on the ground, inspecting his gruesomely injured hand with a mixture of irritation and resignation. "This is troublesome," he mutters, tearing a strip from Isabella's shirt to fashion a makeshift bandage. 'I'll temporarily connect the veins with tiny tubes made of mana and cast a wall of mana around my hand to prevent any blood from leaking,' he plans internally, his mind racing through the steps of arcane first aid.

He crouches beside Isabella's unconscious form, a flicker of respect passing through his gaze. "To be able to hurt me at your age... If I let you live, you'll become a monster sooner or later," he muses aloud, his tone somewhere between admiration and threat. With a ruthless efficiency, he drags her by the hair, indifferent to her dignity or comfort.

Talen, witnessing the scene, feels a surge of helplessness. "What should we do? I don't think we can beat this man," he whispers, more to himself than anyone else. Kaida, her fist clenched, is a turmoil of emotions. "Dammit..." she mutters, stepping forward with a mixture of fear and resolve. "Wait! Stop!" she calls out, her voice cracking under the strain.

Zelo turns, his expression one of bored amusement. "Did you not hear what I said?" he retorts, his yawn punctuating the disdain in his words.

Kaida swallows hard, her inner monologue a chaotic blend of fear and determination. 'I-I can do this,' she assures herself, taking another step forward. "W-wait, take me instead. W-when she wakes up, she'll want to fight, I won't fight back," she offers, her voice trembling but her stance defiant. "W-wouldn't it be better for you to take someone who won't fight back?"

His laughter, hollow and mocking, fills the clearing. "Hahahaha, I didn't think anyone would try to play hero in this damn forest," he scoffs, turning away dismissively. "You can fuck off; I'm taking this one."

Kaida bites her lip, her mind racing. 'What do I do, what do I do, I can't just let him take Isabella. If she meets up with Aira and Isadora, they can beat him,' she reasons, a spark of desperation igniting a reckless idea. "I-I know the man you're looking for," she blurts out, her statement halting Zelo in his tracks.

He turns, skepticism etched across his features. "Oh, so you know that man, huh?" he questions, dropping Isabella's hair with a lack of concern as her face meets the ground with a thud. "Take me to him."

Taking a faltering step back, her ruse unraveling as quickly as it was conceived. "Uu-um, about that... Y-you see, I don't know exactly where he is in the forest," she stammers, the truth slipping out in her panic.

"Tsk... whatever, you're still coming with me, now," Zelo groans in frustration.

Trembling but resolute, Kaida steps beside him, her mind a whirlwind of anxiety and fear. 'C-calm down, I-I chose to do this, I-I can't back out now. They'll help me, I know it. Based on this man's behavior, he doesn't plan on killing me until he finds V,' she coaches herself, her resolve hardening with each step as they walk away from the rest of the group. 

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

The door swings open with a decisive motion as Professor Ayla strides in, the ambient light catching her long white hair and setting it aglow. Without preamble, she addresses the room's other occupant, her tone tinged with a rare urgency. "What is the meaning of this, Fëanor? I asked you to put my students near each other for a reason," she demands, her usual composure slipping just slightly in her concern.

Elder Fëanor, seated comfortably before a vast array of screens, raises a hand in a calming gesture, though his voice carries a hint of reprimand. "Isilcalë, where's your respect, young lady?" His ancient eyes meet hers, waiting.

With a sigh, Ayla counters, her frustration evident. "Elder Fëanor, you agreed to my request, so why are they separated?" She watches as his gaze shifts to the screens displaying various parts of the forest, alive with hidden cameras' feeds.

"Your human students came here to learn from us. They do not get any special privileges; no one does," Fëanor states firmly, his attention returning to the surveillance.

Resting an elbow on the table and leaning her cheek against her palm, Ayla's thoughts flash with irritation. 'This stubborn old man. He purposefully separated V from Lysandra, Biana, and Isadora, the team I asked him to form.' She articulates her thoughts with a measured calmness. "I didn't ask you to put them together for them to have an easier time. I intended it to make it easier for the other students who will struggle working with them."

Fëanor nods slowly, a trace of understanding crossing his features as he surveys the chaos unfolding on one of the screens showcasing Biana and Lysandra's current predicament. "I can see that..." he murmurs, taking a sip of his tea, the tranquility of the act belying the turmoil displayed before them.

Pausing, he sets down his cup with a thoughtful air. "Someone added unauthorized criminals; this is quite troublesome." His tone remains level, but there's a spark of concern in his eyes.

Ayla responds with a nod, her voice steady despite the gravity of their discussion. "Indeed, now that the ceremony has started, we can't interfere." Her expression is serene, but her mind races with implications and strategies.

Fëanor strokes his beard, lost in thought. "Thankfully they're only attacking humans." He doesn't see Ayla's reaction as she shifts in her seat, the stone beneath her crumbling subtly under the weight of her controlled frustration.

As he continues to observe the screen, Ayla's gaze hardens as she contemplates the unfolding events. 'V will deal with it, but I'm still worried. If any of them die, I won't have a day off with all the paperwork I'll have to do,' she muses, her mind a whirlwind of concern and administrative dread.

Ayla turns to Fëanor, concern etched on her face. "Have you gauged their strength?" she inquires, trying to mask the worry in her voice.

The elder nods solemnly. "For three of the criminals, yes. However, the fourth one is unreadable. His criminal record labels him as a class 3 criminal, but that's a falsehood. He only recently got imprisoned, so there's little to no information on him," he explains, the seriousness of the situation reflected in his tone.

Ayla lets out a frustrated sigh, "Oh, Mother Earth..." She rubs her temples, the stress of the situation beginning to weigh on her. "This is why I hate these ceremonies; there's no way for us to get past the barrier once it's activated." In a rare display of vulnerability, she instinctively grabs a bottle of wine from her bag, downing it with a practiced ease that speaks volumes of her stress coping mechanisms.

Standing, Fëanor maintains his stoic demeanor. "This is their test of survival. If they're smart enough, they'll manage to live," he states flatly before exiting the room, tea in hand. Pausing at the door, he adds, "You might want to drink another bottle; your father just entered the school grounds."

Ayla groans, her frustration peaking. "Fuck that old man..." Resigned, she stands and glances at the screen one last time. 'No point in stressing over something I can't control. I'll leave their safety to you, V,' she resolves before swiftly opening the window. "Time to flee," she declares, finishing off another bottle in a single long swig.

She jumps out the window, her hand connecting with the ground as she lands gracefully. "No, no, no, don't try anything," she mutters to the plants surrounding her. "Don't you tell that man where I am, okay?" Despite her commands, the plants begin to sway mischievously. "H-hey, stop it!" she protests, her frustration mounting as the flora seems to mock her. 'How can these damn plants be mad over something I did decades ago? I was a stupid kid!' she rages internally.

But her protests are in vain; the trees and flowers conspire to encase her in a living dome. "You damn plants! You're lucky I'm not allowed to order you around! Come on let me go! Why are you still stuck in the past? I-I was a kid, how was I supposed to know I was growing weeds!? And weeds are plants, you're all just racist!" she shouts, pounding her fist against the sturdy bark.

Defeated and trapped, Ayla makes a resigned decision. "If I'm going to be yelled at, I might as well," she murmurs, pulling out three more bottles from her seemingly endless supply. She chugs them with a gusto that belies her elegant appearance. "Mmmm... I'm full," she burps, patting her stomach in satisfaction.

As if on cue, a small entrance appears in the dome, through which her father steps with a look of deep disappointment, "Isilcalë, look at you. This is the result of living with the humans."