@Estylwen@ERode@Psyker Landshark@AThousandCurses

WINGRAM ACADEMY

"F-Fifty? With the potential for more?" Chloe's eyes would widen at the bluntness of Chunji's statement, surprised that she'd been taken seriously. "Maybe an edit is in order before you show me, then..."

Davil would chuckle weakly from nearby, not as animate as he typically tended to be. "Thanks for the help, though. Really thought that was the end back there. Could've gone a lot worse," he would blurt out with a slight wheeze, his gaze running across everybody before eventually settling on Ciara for a brief moment; after which, he would just kind of look away to the sky and sigh as the mannekin attendant continued wheeling him along.

As Ciara spoke her apologies to Michael, he would turn his head to regard her with a side-eye. "Only part I'm confused on is why you'd choose a janitor, of all things. Don't have much pull. Would've been able to say that at least ya didn't make a mess of the halls, but uh, we both know even that ain't true," he stated plainly, his expression neutral. "But I'll do my part. Ya may've killed a few, but any teacher here's definitely killed their fair share more, I figure. With any luck, ya might even be in talks for a promotion'a some kind."

Such words would bring a look of annoyance from Alto, who would then turn back towards Otis and Iraleth, shrugging as he fastened his scabbard and tightened the straps on his backpack. "Tough to get any proper practical work done when we're bound by these rings. I've elected to call a temporary halt to official classes while on the road, and then figuring something out once we've settled in Vaal Nero. To that end, it'll be a two day trip, in which we'll arrive in the streets of the city roughly around the afternoon of the 5th. Worst case scenario, it's a self-study period until all this is resolved, doing what you can without the use of essence."

The instructor's eyes would then darken as he turned to answer the other question, looking towards Iraleth with grit teeth. Before he could speak, Kann would step forward with a similarly grim expression. "Hildegunde has been rendered comatose, after what happened. Initially, she was counted among the dead - but after a closer look, her prime essence remains. She's being tended to at the clinic, but as for whether she'll ever wake up? We have no idea, it's near unprecedented to survive with essence that dim. In the best case scenario, it's unclear if she'd even have an Ethos..."

With that, the doctor would step back, muttering meek apologies as he begins to walk towards the bridge to load onto one of the two carriages, followed closely after by Fianchetto and Michael. Davil would again look towards Ciara, expression painted with concern; contrasted only by Rio's look of disgust towards her, a brief muttering of, "Should've just killed her and been done with it," passing his lips. Chloe simply followed across the bridge with an avoidant slouch, gripping the edges of her cloak.

"...Well, there you have it," Alto would reluctantly spit, looking amongst his class. "Best start loading up. The carriage with a blue banner is for the guys, and red for girls plus myself. The reinforced security mannekin will also split themselves evenly."

As if trying to brush past the Hildegunde situation with tactless abandon, Alto continued to push the schedule along. "If there are no further questions or concerns, we'll have plenty of time to talk details as we go."

"You said you were a part of nobility, correct? Buying seven carriages, one for each day of the week, that are customized by master artisans, along with hiring the chauffeur, gathering the finest horses, and more, should equate to less than 1% of your total wealth. Do not worry; you may think that it is too little. I've considered it, and the total cost will be what I said earlier but multiplied by six." A faint smug look appeared on Chunji's face as he presented the information to Steeler. He had heard brief tales about the wealth of the nobility from his peers when he passed by. Some say that they can buy houses that are as big as mountains, some say they ride a different carriage depending on their mood, and they eat the finest foods. By his estimates, Steeler should be foot whatever he had put on his list.

Wiping the sweat off his neck, that smug look disappeared as he looked at Davil. "You shouldn't thank me. Ventaura and Kyrios did most of the work. I'm sure Arillo had a hand in it as well." There was little to take pride in his part. Ciara and Iraleth fought off the Umbralist while Otis used his usual backstage tactics. That was all the credit that Chunji could give to them. Though speaking of Ciara, the topic of her soured the mood of the group.

Hildegrunde was comatose. Dayin had informed him when his peer had arrived in the makeshift treatment room. Chunji could only infer that she was incapacitated but comatose. "I'll have to pay a visit to Ms. Nachtnebel when the trial is over." It was regretful that Hildegrunde had been put into her current condition by their own classmate. He knew Ciara was aggressive when provoked, but he thought she would go this far.

"Understood." With that, Chunji would go up the carriage with Davil and their respective mannequins. Davil was still an injured person, after all, and it'd probably be comforting to be in the company of someone that wasn't an autonomous object of wood. He took his seat and waited for the travel to start. It would be an agonizing wait until they arrived.

Well, that certainly did not help her defense.

And here, Otis had figured that Ciara got along better with Hildegunde than with Iraleth. Did the sting of a perceived betrayal cause her to lash out harder? Did knowledge of Hildegunde's Ethos force the shadow-witch's hand, preferring certainty over trusting the unknown? The Strigidae considered it, then discarded it. It simply made Ciara's defense that much harder. She had almost extinguished one classmate, shaved years off the life of another, and then somehow decided to fight against a full-blown Umbralist in order to protect a third. It brought to mind multiple personalities. It brought to mind someone who only made decisions in the heat of the moment, with no consideration to past or future. He glanced towards her, amber eyes like looking at a specimen on the other side of the glass, wondering what she was. Wondering if he could puzzle her out before the executioner's blade fell.

Shame about classes too.

Otis stepped into the carriage after Davil and Chunji, securing himself a seat on the side. It would be a two day trip with no promise of being allowed to utilize their essence during its entirety, but at least he'd have things to keep his hands busy and his mind occupied. While others found their own places inside, the owlkin removed his gloves, rummaged for his sewing kit, and, before the carriage began, threaded a needle with a strand of gold. There was space enough for embroidering details, at least, and he doubted Rio and Chunji were the aggressively space-consuming type.

---

Wingram Front Gates
_@Nanaya

---

A promotion.

Ciara thought it highly unlikely, but in this situation, Michael knew more than her. Perhaps he felt a shred of pity for her, and was giving her some sense of false hope.

Regardless, if he was terribly upset with her, he didn't show it. Honestly, if he thrashed her she probably wouldn't react much. It'd happened at the orphanages enough times. But instead of all that, he was… almost kind, with his words.

Ciara sighed a little and nodded, before focusing on the shift in conversation to Professor Alto. At the news of Hildegunde, Ciara felt a terrible twist in her stomach. If she had had anything for breakfast, she was certain she would have lost it in this moment.

That was her. She did that. If Hildegunde never opened her eyes again, that was her fault. And Hildegunde had only ever been kind with her. Hell, they had even stood on Ciara's side.

And now?

No one was on her side. No one her age, at least. No one in her class.

Was this really what she would amount herself to be? This sad, lonely girl with a mountain of sins?

Ciara ran a palm over her eyes, then down her face, as if she could rub away the guilt. Shouldering her bag, she marched herself to the girl's carriage, sparing one glance to Davil.

Yes, at least out of all of this, he was her saving grace. Her one redeeming moment. However much it amounted to, in the grand scheme of things.

As she set her bag beside her and got comfortable withing the carriage, she tried to drain away all her emotions. Tried to become clinical. Tried not to feel. A little knowledge to chew on might help with that.

So her attention turned to Professor Alto. He might hate her now, but he was still her teacher.

”Sir? Can you tell us a little about the judicial system in Vaal Nero?”

Might as well learn a bit about how her case might look.

At least Hildegunde was alive. A small, cold comfort, but one nonetheless. Iraleth nodded mutely to the professor and the doctor as she processed that information. Depending on how one looked at it, that was either a strike off of Ciara's ledger or another, lesser one. Rio's words had Iraleth biting her lip and looking away. How many times had she considered that already? It all looped back around to that. If Iraleth had taken the duel completely seriously from the beginning. If she hadn't given Ciara one last chance too many.

And yet...was it right to consider mercy when it came at the risk of others? Not knowing Ciara was capable of the rampage she went on wasn't an excuse. Not for the guards' sake. Not for Hildegunde's. All of this was still on Ciara's head, of course. But Iraleth had indirectly enabled it.

Compared to that, the mention of classes being adjusted was hardly worth mentioning. That was a given, considering the rings restricting their Essence usage at the moment. Well, her father always said she needed to be less dependent on her Ethos. Perhaps some time of hard training without having the Inheritor in her back pocket would do some good, if Alto resorted to self-study.

She gave Michael a glare for his words, trying to see what reaction that would elict out of him. Don't trust him. Whatever was going on, if he would make a move, it would have to be before the trial. This would be easier if she could at least share a carriage with the janitor during the trip. Damn Professor Alto's consideration.

And speaking of, Iraleth wordlessly entered the carriage after Chloe once Ciara inquired as to Vaal Nero's judicial system, despite being the likely best person to answer that query. She had no desire to explain, not to her.

Sitting across from the other half-elf, Iraleth reached to her sword belt and unslung her bastard sword's scabbard, drawing it slowly so as not to draw alarm, and proceeding to start to oil and whet it. If nothing was going to be taught during the carriage ride, she may as well do something productive with her time. And after everything yesterday, being around Ciara with a naked sword in hand wasn't the worst idea.

"And here I thought you'd be more energetic." Iraleth muttered across to Chloe, her tone stoic. Neutral. Controlled. "Between yesterday and the day before. Before more people join us, what's your take on all of this?"

@ERode@AThousandCurses

BLUE CARRIAGE, OUTSIDE WINGRAM

There was something of a tension in the air as people boarded the boys' carriage. Michael deigned to sit off in one of the corners and immediately pulled his hood further down so as to catch some sleep, Fianchetto glared at the grimy janitor while propping open a book, and Dr. Kann looked around paranoid as if a ghost would pop out at him. Rio sat as far opposite Chunji as he possibly could, having not appreciated last night and was at least a pinch exhausted himself. Davil, for his part, slapped his knees after watching the service mannekin who wheeled him in simply walk out after locking his wheelchair, its job complete. "I guess there's no sympathy for the wounded among these guys. Talk about dire room service, am I right? Ahaha..."

The Wund boy's voice was stiffer and fainter, as if speaking just to prove to himself he was still here, or to break the relative silence any way he could. He'd turn towards Otis, a thin upward line instead of his usual wholehearted grin or anxious chittering. "Chunji tells me that you also had a hand in saving me, chum, so thanks for that. I suspect everyone did more than I could've asked for, so once I'm able to start moving around more again, let's continue where we left off, yeah?"

He nodded to himself as if answering himself, despite Otis not having done so yet. Rio would turn towards Davil, and then start to look around the carriage before speaking his own mind. "It wouldn't have gotten that far in the first place if Ciara were killed. Seriously, am I the only one thinking this? All this hero brainrot shittalk, idealistic bullshit, 'n we've got nothing to show for it but a comatose girl, a cripple, and from what I heard, human pasta sauce in that tower's halls. And now she's gettin' a personal escort to the city like a fuckin' fairytale princess. Oh, I wonder, will she finally meet her prince at the ball? Pffft."

Fianchetto would also perk up at this, shutting his book a moment to regard Rio with a look of what almost seemed to be pity, or understanding. "If what you seek is justice, Neroite justice is very fair. Were this incident to have transpired in the capital, speaking as somebody who lives there, there is no guarantee that she would even have been arrested for such things for very long, depending on context. Either that, or she would spend her life as the isolated subject of research and dissection, if some interested parties received her first."

Rio turned away, as if not willing to acknowledge the elder's words. Michael would begin snoring in the corner, unbothered. When the security mannekin boarded, the doors would close behind them, and the carriage would begin to move down the road.

---

@Estylwen@Psyker Landshark

RED CARRIAGE, OUTSIDE WINGRAM

Iraleth would have found her glare towards Michael returned with a perplexed brow, as if wondering if he'd said anything particularly odd. He'd slightly adjust the hood of his cloak - still ensuring that it never left his head - and picked at the strands of shredded fabric that dangled around its rim, before turning away to board the boys' carriage. Just before entering, however, he would stare at Iraleth again for but a brief second, as if still trying to work out what he said that was so bad, before disappearing out of sight.

Hearing Iraleth's particular request for her take before more joined the girls' carriage, Chloe would oblige while looking away towards the open doors of the carriage, gripping at her collar with one hand. "I have plenty of energy, you'll just need to excuse me if I'm, perhaps, saving it for when it matters," Chloe would reply bluntly, scoffing somewhat. "Because my 'take' is that I do not think this is the end. They never found that Umbralist's body, did they? The imp is in captivity, but why? What does it still offer? Can we even trust the present company to protect us while we're as vulnerable as uneducated flea farmers? Should something even worse be in store for us, I'll have to be ready to give it my all. The conditions are about right, I think, for-"

The half-elf caught herself just as she was about to say more than she was comfortable, waving off her own words. Just as well, perhaps, because the rest of their company on this journey arrived seconds later. Chloe shuffled away as she saw Ciara, not at all reassured by Alto's presence as a protector - he was as vulnerable as any of the rest of them, in his current state. Alto would ensure that wherever Ciara sat, he wouldn't be very far away, a hand unsubtly resting on the pommel of his longsword as he leaned back on the bench. Certainly not the most comfortable seating arrangements, but at least better than the floor.

This treatment would not change even as he agreed to Ciara's request. "Vaal Nero's legal system is typically handled through the lawmen of the city - the city guard, appointed knights and paladins, or at the highest level of offence, a corsair. Crooks go through all the legal proceedings one might expect, may plead their case, and are rendered judgment at the conclusion of a very short trial. These trials are very short because, if a judgment were to take too long to be given, a corsair will step in and make that judgment themselves."

With an almost nostalgic sigh and a tapping on the pommel of his sword, Alto looks towards the ceiling of the carriage. "See, corsairs are above the law, for the most part. Blessed by the waters, they're said to be, and are given the kinds of privileges that an average enforcer of justice wishes they could have. Most of the time, they're a guard or knight suddenly given this blessing and granted corsair status upon providing proof of their claim. Could just as easily be some random bum off the street, though. Been a thing, apparently, ever since Nero himself died. A blessing left behind for the chosen, or something, they say."

The professor would turn to look at Ciara for the first time since boarding, pointing at her. "But you. You committed what the city would consider 'religious defilement' as a result of Umbralist accusations. Matters of the soul and of the divine are judged by the Star Court - Astrite priests and divine mages that form the governing body of Vaal Nero. They'll not take this matter lightly, but it's the one legal domain corsairs have no power in, so you at least won't be worrying about a loose cannon. Count yourself lucky for that one, at least. They will review the footage and testimonies sent to them, meet with lawmen for their opinions, and consult Astra for her personal guidance on the matter. The magic angle throws in an air of unpredictability, I'd say."

As the instructor concluded his explanation - at least for that very moment, assuming Ciara had no more questions - half of the security mannekin would board and take seats with spears in hand. The doors would shut behind them, and with no particular signal, the carriage would begin to move down the road.

"Well," Otis responded, not even gazing at Davil as the needle danced between his fingers, "you did kill plenty of their co-workers. Don't think they'd treat you kindly over that."

Was that a joke?

"But yes. I'm expecting to continue my experimentations. Current events have been enlightening, and beyond that, there's still a lot more to document about your Ethos." His words were as clinical as always, but it was about as much interest as one could expect Otis to show in someone else. He lifted up the fabric he was working on, closed one eye as if to simultaneously 'imagine' and 'see' at the same time, before placing it down and continuing his work. Rio's words were a touch abrasive, but understandable. He was a faith-based caster, after all, and his Ethos was a collection of shields. If it had been Chloe that had been rendered comatose instead of Hildegunde, Otis would expect that the morning's convergence would have turned out very differently. Still, he couldn't help himself. Well, no, he could. But it was a carriage ride, and embroidery wasn't so mentally engaging of a task that he wasn't going to be able to ask questions and absorb responses while doing so.

"There's only one problem worth solving in this world," Otis spoke. "The hero talk is to gather the impressionable young and to drum up investments from the nobles. If Ciara was such a threat, she could have done far worse in that sham of an entrance exam, rather than only going wild after being pushed into a duel." She could have gorged herself on would-be heroes, drunk deep from their prime essence, and become something of a perpetual motion machine, running almost an entire generation of Ethos-wielders. Or she could have been immediately cut down by Valen. What Fianchetto said was worth inquiring about, however. "How would one become an interested party? Are there Umbralists in captivity even now, studied by mages? Is there some sort of donation one needs to make to the Astrite Faith in order to gain approval for that? Where would one find studies on the research and dissection done on them? I had imagined that though they utilized taboo essences and belonged to a heretic faith, they were still standard humanoids. Does the worship of Umbralism cause physical mutations?"

Rio's bold assertion wouldn't yield a response from Chunji. While it was true Ciara deserved some sort of punishment in reparation for those she hurt, Chunji couldn't see anything good out of this. Even if she did come out of this alive, her victim complex would no doubt worsen from the entire ordeal. By the time Otis chimed into the conversation, Chunji stopped paying to the attention in the entirety. The end result of Ciara's trial mattered little to Chunji anyway. If she was let free, then so be it. If she incarcerated, then so be it. There little at personal stake for Chunji. He wasn't close with Ciara and he was only grateful for helping him rescue Davil. Though that was also a can of worms.

What Chunji was more concerned about was something else entirely. His personal health. There was a faint irritation in his eyes along with the burning sensation that permeated his skin throughout the night. His body felt as if it was on fire, but he had already performed a basic examination on himself. Everything was fine, his body didn't have any symptoms to conclude that he obtained an illness. That only led him to only rational conclusion.

A burning house. A forgotten duty. A sin bared in blood.

"Urk..." Violent coughs erupted from Chunji as he covered his mouth. Each incrementally more hurtful than the last. After the coughing fit had passed, Chunji was granted some reprieve. "My apologizes, it seems that I have caught something." A quick excuse and a swift retrieval of a mask. All he needed to do was pass through the week and it'll all be over. He could do this, he's been through worse.