Early Morning, London
It was moments like these that the ancient halls of the Clocktower felt especially oppressive and cold. The old and well-kept halls radiated an aura of arrogance and seemed especially built to remind its students of just how small and insignificant they truly were in the eyes of their superiors. It was an environment that fostered quiet obedience, and with it, loneliness. The arched ceilings were built as if for giants, and the walls were divided with windows several times larger than doorways through which the frigid morning light filled the great halls and danced across the specs of dust that drifted overhead.
At this hour of the morning, hard-working students were already in their morning classes, lucky students were still asleep, and anxious students and professors holed themselves in their dorms and offices to finish quickly whatever preparations they had foolishly left incomplete the night before.
In other words: she was alone, and left with little to do but bite at her fingernails while the stones in the wall whispered amongst themselves to discuss her ultimate fate.
She was not the only one left outside her schedule- she was not the only one sacrificing their morning business to more important matters. The Clocktower was not only a college, but an association of Mages, and education was secondary to its primary objective: organization. And here, now, in these ancient and cold halls, Lords, ladies and others had gathered to discuss important concerns, ones so crucial that she shouldn't have been privy to them in the first place. It was only thanks to the benevolence of a single professor that she'd learned of it, and it would only be by his influence that she could try to resolve her own concerns in the matter.
After all, the only other option for her was to sit on the sidelines, and she knew that option all-too well. How long had she stood by as her life and family fell apart? How long had she made excuses for not extending the barest fraction of decency to those she cared for?
No longer. Even if she wasn't allowed to, she'd would surely-
-A door opened down the hall, and the rigid footsteps that emerged revealed the identity with little room for error. Although she'd only had him for two classes in her several years at the institution, the "Big Ben London Star" was a man impossible to forget and easy to caricature. Whether it be his clockwork stride, his always-furrowed brow, the ever-smoking cigar, or the shadow that always followed quietly behind, he was a man infamous for getting things done and never by the proper means. It was obvious to any observer that the only thing the Association and the Head of Modern Magecraft Theory could agree on was that the other was a royal pain in the ass, and likely more trouble than they were worth.
Alas, the votes of the student body were unanimous: there was no one in all of London more trustworthy, reliable, and helpful than Lord El-Melloi II, and her experience had given her all the reason to agree.
And so he crossed the corner into her private corridor, trailed by a puff of cigar smoke and his signature grey shadow.
She stifled her breath, and did her best to not look as anxious as she was,
"So..."
Lord El-Melloi II gave a tired sigh, which she'd learned long ago was a sign of good news, "Nobody is pleased with the idea of an apprentice Astromancer going into the eye of the storm... and why would they be?"
He gave her a sharp look, expressing without words what he'd already said several times by this point: 'Grail Wars are nothing to sneeze at. You can't step foot in one without the resolve to put your life on the line, and the knowledge that you'll probably lose it in any case.'
She nodded, absent-mindedly tugging at her uniform jacket, "I'll be careful. I'm not planning to throw my life away."
He grimaced, and for a moment she wondered if he was actually in pain, "Very few things ever go to plan, Ms. Yndelle. Are you sure you wouldn't like to take the offer of a relic?"
"I've told you before, Professor, I'm not planning to fight. With luck, I won't ever have to meet any of the participants. In and out, just like we discussed."
"Well, that's not what the Association thinks. They can't fathom a reason why anyone would enter a Grail War except for the Grail itself. Frankly, I think the only reason they're allowing you to go is because they assume you won't make it that far."
She tilted her head, examining the Lord's hard expression from under his chin, "...But they are letting me go?"
He gave another tired sigh of good news, "Yes, they are. They're sending you with a member of their new... team. Your supposed goal is to uproot the origins of the conflict, and bring it to a close. Whether you inform your 'teammate' that you'll be leaving him in the lurch is up to you."
She crossed her arms and watched a falling spec, processing the new information,
"... Will I have to worry about the consequences of leaving my," She made scare-quotes with her fingers, "Mission?"
"No. I doubt it, anyway. Mages are cowards by nature, and though they may be hypocrites as well, I don't think they'll punish a college student for abandoning a job she never should've taken in the first place."
The last few words came out strained as he grit his teeth.
He placed his cigar back in his mouth and bit down, holding it there while his hands maneuvered within his jacket, finally pulling out an envelope,
"Your 'partner' isn't so lucky. He was one of the men responsible for another false War, one that we actually were able to stop before it started. Joining this taskforce is his penance, so I'd be careful about staying on his good side: there's nothing more dangerous than a man with nothing to lose."
She opened the envelope and peered inside, but El-Melloi, as typically as ever, marched past her and down to wherever office or lecture hall he was needed in next,
"I wouldn't dawdle, Ms. Yndelle, your flight is in a few hours."
"What!? Shit!"
She immediately felt the walls glare at her, admonishing her for her outburst, but she still turned and said something else very-much frowned upon in this place,
"Thank you, Professor! I promise I'll be safe!"
He gave a sarcastic wave, disrupting his consistent plume of smoke, and not bothering to look back at her, "Don't forget about the quiz Monday. No make-ups, either."
She smiled, one of the few genuine smiles she'd ever had, "Are you sure this doesn't count as extra credit?"
Still without facing her, he closed his open palm, leaving his middle finger out. As he turned down the next corridor, she caught his shadow, the strange so-called apprentice girl who followed him everywhere he went, casting a curious glance her way with a face that, apparently, was supposed to be worthy of hate despite its youthful glow and obvious beauty.
But the sight of that youthful and feminine glow only fueled the fire within her, and so, with all her soul, she raced down the hall in the opposite direction, allowing her gold ponytail to fly back behind her shoulder and flutter in the wind as she ran.
...