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op2024
Morose
PatientBean
Noctis
Kronshi
amorphical
ThatCharacter
Andreyich
Izurich
While Clarissa wouldn’t find much issue with sitting for another indeterminate amount of time, she did grumble at the summons. She’d already planned out the rest of her day, carefully drawing out time for chores, a walk around the greenhouse, and some studying in the library before the lanterns darkened for the evening. Nowhere in her schedule was there room for an unexpected lecture but it wasn’t like she would turn it down, even if she could. It simply sat poorly with her. Clarissa did sit further back than the first row however. Getting out sooner might make it so that she could reclaim some tattered remnants of her former schedule.
Although all thoughts of schedules and duties trickled out as concern replaced them, a brow raised in Professor Roland’s direction at his strange introduction. A quick head count confirmed that all the Professors were in attendance so what was so important that the Archbishop wanted to personally involve himself in the situation in addition to everyone else? Especially if they thought it necessary to have a nurse on standby? What in the Saint’s names was going on?!
A strange buzzing filled her ears after Professor Roland revealed that each member of the Rose Unit was a Crestbearer, specifically selected for the Unit because of that one simple fact. She could feel the tension in her muscles, her posture painfully stiff, but she didn’t recognize it as her own. It felt distant and muted, much like Professor Malachite’s voice as he droned on and one beyond the initial revelation. Nothing he said registered as she focused on the drawing of the Crest of the Beast. The damn thing taunted her, staring right at her even as she’d escaped to the highest and holiest point of the land. She could already hear her mother’s condescending voice whispering in the back of her mind. She had been careful not to mention her Crest, avoided the subject the best she could, and yet the people she trusted were sitting here, ready to throw all her hard work back in her face with not a care in the world!
If looks could kill, Professor Roland would have been dead on the spot. Fear and hurt boiled into frustration and fury in record time, palpable in the way it sloughed off her shaking shoulders. She jumped to her feet and swept away towards the exit, ignoring the Kalonics as she attempted to storm her way out of the classroom.
“Clarissa, the lesson isn’t over,” Euphemia told her, frowning.
“Then let it continue without me.” Clarissa snapped.
Euphemia was shocked by Clarissa’s sudden response. She looked back at Tomai fielding questions for a moment before placing her hand on the doorknob. “Give us a moment,” She told her brother, opening the door to let Clarissa out. She wasn’t about to let her escape, however—as soon as the door closed behind them, the woman promptly stopped Clarissa from running.
“I’m surprised at you, I thought you would enjoy this,” Euphemia said. “Whatever could be the problem?”
Clarissa glanced around for any sort of opening past her Professor but Euphemia would outpace her in a heartbeat. She could feel how her teeth ground together as she considered the options. “How much do you know about each of our Crests?” Clarissa ground out.
Euphemia scratched her cheek. “We were told this was the only unit to be comprised of solely Crestbearers, but beyond that we aren’t told much,” She admitted.
Clarissa gauged her reaction carefully, settling a little at the response. “My entire life has been defined by my Crest. From the moment I drew breath, from the moment my eyes opened, from the moment I could even understand what a Crest was, my mother was far too eager to list in full all the long, awful ways our Crest has brought our family and our loved ones to ruin.” Clarissa began, just shy of shouting as she paced. “The Church was a prison in the beginning, the only way for me to atone to the Goddess for our bloodline’s long and extensive history of sin branded into our family with this damning Crest. It took me years to escape that, blood, sweat, and tears to kick my way through the shame and the- the- the bullshit that came along with all this. I came here with the express intent of delving deeper into my faith and connecting with people without the looming dread of them discovering my Crest before I wished.”
“But now thanks to this,” Clarissa stopped, gesturing at the Black Eagles classroom as her volume continued to climb, “Now, I can’t keep that to myself. This administration so neatly stripped me of my autonomy over this decision without so much as the courtesy of a warning that I’m not ready for the consequences. I wasn’t ready for people to know and now I don’t have a choice!” Clarissa hissed through gritted teeth. “Is that a problem enough?”
Euphemia’s face softened as Clarissa explained the source of distress, letting out a quiet sigh once she finished. “I had no idea…I’m so sorry that you’ve been put in such a position,” She sincerely apologized. “This class is meant to help, not harm, and it’s meant to be something that can bring people together.”
After a small pause, she looked back to the door. “For now, don’t you think it would be best to give Professor Malathice a chance? He’s a Crestologist, so maybe having some understanding could be of some comfort.”
Clarissa’s shoulders slumped at the suggestion, the apology enough to put out the worst of her anger. “I have been told at every step that this Crest would prove too much for me to free us of. If I’m told the same thing here, I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to handle it. Not here, not after I’ve come this far.” Clarissa admitted quietly.
The blonde seemed to sympathize with Clarissa greatly. “I understand. This class is merely an introduction–a lecture. How about you sit in and listen, and after this class I’ll talk to Professor Roland and see what I can do about excusing you?” She suggested. “I’m sure we can come up with some sort of compromise.”
Clarissa turned it over a few times before hesitantly nodding. “I suppose that’s a reasonable beginning.” Clarissa agreed. She took a breath and squared her shoulders, displeasure still apparent on her face. With a quiet word of appreciation, Clarissa stepped back into the classroom and returned to her spot, pressing a little closer to Jorah than before.
