Chapter 12–The Letter

I'm concentrating intensely.

My hand gently curves the knife—thin curls of clay peeling off. I try not to get distracted as the thin curls flutter down to the table below.

'Don't mess up. Don't mess up. DON'T MESS UP.' my mind screams.

After putting down my tool, I let out an exhausted sigh. I usually have fun doing things like this. The subtle comfort I felt while whittling was indescribable—a comfort that's definitely not present now. It's not because of the material either.

As Ms. Latnum promised, the clay is sturdy, and I can carve from it easily. It's a bit softer than the wood I normally worked with, and subtle scrapping of wood is also absent, but that isn't the cause of my discomfort. A weird feeling lurks in my heart—it's prickly and oppressive. It makes my hands feel like they're moving wrong.

'Am I paranoid?'

'No no no, I've made things for people before. And this is no different so—I can do this...'

But the thought did little to comfort me, and the feeling remained. I refocus on the sculpture in front of me hoping it'll take my mind off the feeling.

The mass of the once-mighty cube has reduced considerably. After all of the carving, it's now a 17-centimeter tall sculpture. It's a female beastman wielding a scythe. She has feline ears, a long pointed tail, and I'm not yet finished detailing the patch of scales that would be on her left cheek. She wears a ribbon in her hair, a skirt, stockings, and a jacket with a row of buttons on either side.

She also wears a playful almost daring expression, and the more I stare at it, the more I notice its resemblance to Kate. I feel my ears start to burn with shame. While I had Kate in mind while creating it, I didn't mean for it to be obvious. I look around to make sure no one is staring, and consider the figure closely.

'It's not that obvious—is it?'

After scrutinizing the face of the sculpture for a minute or two I deem I'm in the clear. While it's true it resembled Kate, the semblance wasn't glaring. I let out a sigh of relief, before shaking my head trying to snap back into it.

'I need to finish soon or it won't bake in time for me to paint.'

I didn't know how long the firing process would take, and my internal clock told me it was getting late. I pick up one of the smaller tools, and begin the detailing.

"Finally," I say to no one in particular after a while.

I stare at the finished product gleefully—satisfied with the result. I detailed the outfit, face, and hair. I even got carried away with the details on the scythe. I gave it sharp edges, deep grooves, and subtle etchings in some areas to imitate metalwork. It was a lot of fun making something with clay for the first time. Though it really felt like whittling. I smile at my creation, before calling for Ms. Latnum to help me with the final steps.

Unlike the last time she was interrupted, she eagerly looks up and heads toward me. "You're finished, dear," she asks.

I nod my head.

"Excellent, now we just have to fire it. Where should I pick it up," she asks. I point to the clay podium the figure stands on.

Ms. Latnum nods and shuffles to her desk humming. She returns with a tray, and carefully transfers my sculpture to it, "One of your upperclassmen will fetch it for you when it's done, okay."

"Okay," I respond, watching as Ms. Latnum recruits one of the club members, and leaves the room.

I look over to Kate, knowing she wasn't working on hers anymore. She called to me so I wouldn't look when it was being moved earlier. Right now she's picking out paints for her sculpture. I don't see it when I look to her table because she put a piece of cloth on it. I chuckle.

'Well, I have a long wait.'

I lay my head on my table and rest my eyes.

After a while, someone taps my shoulder and sets something down. "There you go," the soft voice of Claire says. I open my eyes to see my sculpture. I thank Claire as she walks off to her own table.

My sculpture looked like it got through the firing process okay. It didn't look much different other than the darker tint. It was much stronger too. I grab one of the vials of paint I grabbed while waiting and then dip my brush into the first vial.

The comforting feeling I usually feel while whittling returns as I paint. I don't really know why—I'm not much more competent in painting or anything—but somehow it feels like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. Brush after brush. Stroke after stroke. I finish some of the softer details, and I'm done.

I smile at the completed sculpture. A jet black scythe, her flowing brown hair, and her striking orange eyes—that definitely were not red before—and finally her uniform. I decided to go for a red and black color scheme for that.

'It's perfect. It's sure to impress her.'

I look back to the area Kate was sitting, but she isn't there.

"Ooo, it looks so cool."

My heart nearly leaps out of my chest. Kate is sitting in a chair beside me. I didn't even notice her because I was so focused. 'When did she start watching?' I think mildly alarmed. Kate blinks at me curiously.

"Well, It's done now—do you really like it," I ask.

Kate nods. "I love it," she says, without hesitation as she picks up the sculpture, "Thank you."

Kate then grabs a clothed object and sets it in front of me. "This is yours," she says, diverting her eyes.

I blink at the clothed object in front of me. I knew what it was of course, but even still—my heart races with anticipation. I become aware of Kate staring at me intensely as I unveil her piece.

'Cute.' I coo internally at the adorable little chicken before me.

I can already feel a smile spreading on my face as I pick it up to study it more closely. While I went as detailed as I could, Kate went for softer shapes and details—like a plush toy. The fluff around its neck, its long scaled tail tipped with a flurry of feathers—she even managed to make its little talons so darling I could hardly stand it. It was perfect—just like the ones we saw at the farm.

Kate looks at me expectantly fidgeting with her hands.

"It's so small, and cute just like I knew it'd be," I say, a soft smile on my face, "Thank you."

Kate nods—smiling. Her eyes dart from me to her fidgeting hands as we sit in solace for a while.

"Um, excuse me."

'Gah.'

I'm snapped out of the blissful moment by Claire. Most of the club members have left by now. Only a few others populate the room.

"Hey what's up," I return casually, keeping the disappointment out of my voice.

"Well, you First years ought to head back to your rooms—you have classes tomorrow after all," Claire says, her semi-authoritative tone dissolving into a soft mumble.

"Of course," I say, sensing how nervous she was. I give Kate a meaningful look hoping she understands. "Let's take our senior's advice, shall we."

Kate nods, catching on, "Let us."

Claire looks slightly taken aback, but smiles—a little braver than before. We collect our sculptures and prepare to leave. As we approach the door I give Claire a wave she returns.

"That was a lot of fun, huh," I say as we step into the hall.

Kate nods, "Have you decided whether or not you'll join?"

I pretend to think for a moment. "Well, this was fun, but I think I'll go for survival basics instead," I say.

Kate muses at my choice. "What about the cooking club," she asks.

"Defiantly," I say with no hesitation. Ironically despite my love for food I'm not very good at cooking . "What club will you be joining," I ask Kate.

She diverts her eyes. "I haven't decided yet," she mumbles.

"Don't worry. We still have time," I reassure her.

She nods wordlessly.

We make it back to the common room. I thank Kate again for today, and we part ways. I slide my key into the lock and let myself into my room. The overhead crystal is off and the curtains shut. Marshal is flopped on the bottom bunk snoring.

'I wonder what he did all day.'

I close the door behind me and leave the sculpture on my dresser. I change into some pajamas and look at the statue fondly.

"Goodnight Reighn," I whisper to it, having decided on a name.

I climb up the ladder, lay down, and close my eyes. I lay there for a while failing to fall asleep. I try to relax my body and drift off again, but once again I fail. I toss and turn but no luck. I'm just too excited for tomorrow.

'Ugh.'

I open my eyes, giving up. I lay there for a while, then look over to my desk where I notice a disturbance in the darkness. Wisps of untamed shadow come off the desk on the far side of the room. A hand emerges from the shadow—it's holding a letter and a box. It's hard to discern anything else in the darkness. The hand quietly places the items on the desk before retreating to the shadow plane.

I don't have anything else to do so I descend my ladder to inspect them. I creep over to the mark by the door. I quickly tap it thrice as not to disturb Marshal, and the overhead crystal settles to a faint light. I walk over to the two items. The letter and box are addressed to me. Each has my name scrawled on them in my mom's handwriting. I muse at the pleasant surprise. I pull out the desk chair.

I tear open the envelope and begin to read.

"To my dearest Benji. I hope you are enjoying your time at the academy. I wanted to wait longer before sending a letter, but I couldn't wait to hear how well you're doing. The opening trials should be done by now so tell me all about them! Are you eating well? The banquet, the STARS, how was it? Oh, and tell me about your team. What are they like? Is there a girl? Oh, I know how much you wanted to make friends. Send a letter back soon with all of the details, and remember mom loves you.

With love,

Mom

P.S Your aunt Theophania and I both got you a gift for completing your first trials!"

After I finish reading the letter, I'm surprised to find I'm crying.

'I could've failed the trials…Every single one…And yet—' I grip the box in my hand, as old memories claw at their graves. 'Stupid.' I open the box, and a smile spreads on my face.

'A new dagger.'

It's beautiful. The craftsmanship is clear just by looking. It's black, but its edge glinted red. It's like a shadow surrounded by a ring of flame. It's in sharp contrast to my main blade. It's silvery-white with an edge that glints a light teal. I grin as I turn over the small paper inside the box.

"I hope you like it! Congratulations on completing your trials, Benji. It'll imprint to your magic system. The activation phrase is 'Thank you mom'. I love you."

I chuckle dryly—running my finger over the black crystal on the dagger.

'Voice activation? Just how much did you two spend on me…'

"Thank you, mom," I say, my voice trembling.

The dagger's mark activates. I feel a slight searing sensation, and a chill goes through my body. After staring at the ceiling for a while, I wipe my tears away. The faint howling of old memories starts to fade. I yawn, finally feeling my fatigue.

'No use thinking about things I can hardly remember.' I think, turning off the overhead crystal, and climbing into bed. I slip my dagger under my pillow.

'Thanks, mom.'