Chapter 4:Smoke Break

The Scarlet Vow they had called her, the prodigal daughter of fire. Once she was a distinguished scholar, a Great Mage, and while still a professor she was stationed at the Capital, the real Capital.

She longed for the days when, while still a teacher she would deal with young adults, not with brats. And yet as fierce as her thoughts were, she was a living contradictory, as she at most liked some of her than students, while here in this smelly bucket of a town she found herself in a rather precarious situation.

As much as she wanted to deny it, she loved these brats and the calm they brought to her life, the simplicity. No experiments, no danger, no blood, and no death… and no deadlines, as a true born academic, magical or not she too hated those pesky things. With the children, it was easy, or easier at least, and it will stay that way until of course they too were robbed of their childhood.

She sighed and decided she needed a smoke. It was again that time of the day, when she had to remember that, even though she was hailed a genius, she was little more than a fool. She reached to the nearby table and picked up a black box - the symbol of her downfall.

The luxurious black box measures 10 cm in length and 4 cm in width and is crafted from a sleek, high-quality material that has a matte finish. The surface of the box is adorned with an elegant plant-like pattern, etched into the material with intricate detail.

The pattern is comprised of twisting vines and delicate leaves, all rendered in a striking jet-black hue that contrasts beautifully with the box's matte finish. The effect is both bold and sophisticated, evoking a sense of nature and organic beauty.

The box opens with a smooth, satisfying click, revealing a plush interior lined with rich black velvet. The interior space is perfect for storing small, treasured items such as jewelry, keepsakes, or other precious objects.

At the center of the box's lid, there is a small, polished metal emblem in the shape of a flower, adding a subtle touch of luxury to the design. The emblem is carefully positioned so as not to detract from the intricate plant-like pattern on the front of the box.

Overall, this luxurious black box was a stunning piece of craftsmanship that was both functional and beautiful. Its combination of organic patterning and sleek materials makes it an ideal addition to any home decor or personal collection.

She used this magnificent piece of art as a container for her cigarettes. Provided they weren't exactly cheap, but they were common goods, not something to be housed in her most priced possession. Every time she used it her colleagues looked at her funny as if she was feeding pearls to swine. She knew of their thoughts and cared little for the existence of those little people. At least that's what she told herself to justify her small circle of friends – people were too stupid to get her, it at all was not her fault for being a snobbish introvert.

In the whole Academy, or at the very least in this branch, she had only five people who she could call friends. One was the headmaster, a pleasant old man who the children adored, a man who looked to be in his fifties, his early fifties at that. Hell, if you asked around you would always find someone who believed he was even younger than that.

'The old man sure loves the attention that's for sure' she thought as she puffed a cloud of smoke. He had looked the same when she was three, and he looked the same now.

'Perks of the trade, I guess' another thought, another cloud of smoke.

She looked around, but her mentor, an elderly woman in charge of another class of students, was similar to Liza. Unlike herself, and the old cheat, her mentor was genuinely old, sixty-four years young and counting. A pleasant old lady if you asked Liza, an uptight old bat if you asked almost anyone else. It is with her guidance that the "Scarlet Vow", a rather distasteful nickname if you asked its owner, had regained her name - Elizabeth Parker.

'I believe mentor's uptightness has rubbed off on me a little' she thought as the last puff signaled the death of her first cigarette.

She reached for another, it lit itself, or so it seemed, and then her peaceful unwinding had been disturbed.

"How many times have I told you not to smoke in here Liz" she scalded playfully

"You shouldn't even smoke in the first place. A woman of your age could suffer serious health consequences" she said in mock worry.

Elizabeth looked at the rude woman, and she was rude even though the Academy did have a rule of no smoking inside, why would you bother this poor overworked woman, that is more or less what the manuscript inside her head contained.

Liza looked at the approaching intruder. Fia Silverwing, the rudest bitch in the Empire, and her best friend. She had raven black hair that cascades down her back in thick, luscious waves. Her hair was so dark that it almost seems to absorb the light, and it had a natural shine that catches the eye.

She was thin and tall, with a svelte figure that gives her an elegant and statuesque appearance. Her limbs are long and graceful, and she moves with a fluidity that suggests both power and grace.

Her most striking feature were her eyes, which are a piercing green color that seem to shimmer with an inner light. Her eyes are large and almond-shaped, and they are framed by long lashes that fan out like the wings of a butterfly.

Her features are finely chiseled, with high cheekbones, a straight nose, and full lips that have a natural pink hue. Her skin is smooth and pale, with just a hint of a rosy blush on her cheeks.

The overall effect of this woman's appearance is both striking and alluring. She has an undeniable beauty that draws the eye, and her commanding presence suggests both intelligence and confidence.

She was a beauty to be sure, but her mouth gave out her true nature, that of a venomous viper. Even on the first day of her "sensitivity training" they called it 'Banishment, more like it'- Elizabeth thought to herself, Fia had picked a fight with her. She was younger and weaker, yet even a Grate Mage struggled to best this nobody Mage in verbal combat. The two were always at each other's troughs, and yet Fia was one of the few who knew who she was, what she had done, and didn't fear her.

"It's those two brats again Fifi, they will drive me insane" Liza admitted, not even bothering to defend herself from the light jab, she had experienced that fighting her friend in regards to age only brought her pain, and she only had so many cigarettes for the day.

"They constantly fight endlessly biker and even rope in other children in their quarrels. The worst thing is, not only am I getting used to it, today was the day the thought of actually enjoying their shenanigans even crossed my mind." Said Elizabeth, the worry on her face real, while her voice was slightly trembling.

"Sounds like a proper friendship between scholars if you ask me. That's how they show their passion." Fia said with a nasty grin on her face.

"You say that they give you headaches but you praise them to the moon and back, whenever your not cursing them that is."

"You can't deny your nature Liz, you are just drawn to chaotic people"

"That being the case call me Fifi again and there will be consequences" Fia threatened

"Like what," Elizabeth asked hoping for some light exercise

"Like, me reporting your little imp for his attempts at the Library" The she-devil gave a courteous smile

Every hair on Elizabeth's body stood on end "No please Miss Silverwing, anything but that"

"I have written so many, my poor little heart can't take any more"

Their colleagues watch in wonder as one of the most dangerous Grand Mages of the empire begged, pleaded and bargained while the vicious Mage gloated at her victory. Some of them, the ones who were usually too afraid of the Crimson Vow, even began plotting how to do the same. They hoped to feel a semblance of power, of control, before coming back to reality. If they tried the she-devil of a Mage would target them, not holding her sharp tongue in like she was with her friend. Worse still, the "victim" would be justified and, even if she didn't kill them, they have seen her in action, and they sure as hell didn't want to be on the wrong end of her wrath.

The session of pretend blackmail was a funny gag, and it helped her unwind, more so than even the cigarettes, all good things come to an end. Her break was over and she had to return to her students. She put on her dampener, and the blazing beauty turned back into the old teacher, ready to cultivate the minds of her young pupils.