One Way Or Another

One Way Or Another
The clock chimed somewhere in the distance stating that it was time for him to go to lunch. He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t plan on leaving. Instead, he pulled out the packets of notes that were neatly alphabetized and started planning his path to being invited for the Shield Trials.

By the next morning, he had a draft done and had set appointments with all of his tutors from the Islands: Minerva, Polites, and Mrs. Morvale asking for a bit of their time to discuss how he should communicate his interest. It was a shame he didn’t have magical combat professor. He had a feeling that it would be a requirement of the position, but apparently, there were practical tests that could be administered.

Minerva called him to her office the first thing in the morning with several copies of a letter bearing her seal. There were no questions, and he was humbled and shocked that she hadn’t asked a single thing.

“I expected you to find your path quickly,” Minerva said with a smile. “And perhaps, I was also prepared for what path you might take.”

He didn’t know what that meant, though he wanted to ask, but he knew well enough that the walls all had ears. He could feel them sometimes peering through peepholes. He tucked the letters in his jacket smoothly and smiled. 

“Thank you.”

Polites had no holes in the walls because the room was as old as his favorite parlor and made of stone. He gave him a set of sealed envelopes and an enchanted box. 

“When you have a chance to bond it to you, you’ll find it better than a messenger,” Polites smiled. “I believe you will have great need of it sooner rather than later.”

Mrs. Morvale’s letters came with a bag of cookies and a warm hug. The sad thing was that he didn’t remember many of his tutoring sessions with Mrs. Morvale or how he knew that she would give him the most detailed advice possible along with letters of recommendation. He could only smile, thank her and leave. 

Three days later, with the help of all the notebooks that had been left there and seemed to keep appearing and disappearing, he had a full proposal to send to the Alliance. He left the school and headed to the small mostly Island-owned section of town to send it through their messenger system. He gave a thought to sending a letter to Penelope, but he didn’t know what to say. 

He tried to fill the time waiting for a reply with drafting a letter to her, but the words never seemed right. Was he supposed to apologize? He didn’t know what he’d done. Anger came next, curses, but he cringed at the thought. He’d never talk to her like that. Tears streamed down his face, and every emotion in between seemed to gush out of him every time he tried to write a letter.

For a moment, he wondered if she was just as miserable as Eleura said. 

It was hell waiting for an answer. He drinks calming potions with every meal just to get the shaking under control. A box of potions was delivered every meal time bearing an unfamiliar crest. It was the color and the blank calling card that told him that Eleura had told Tithneus about his current state. He was thankful that he didn’t have to keep using Eleura as his supplier, though she seemed more than happy to give him vial after vial. 

At least two weeks had passed when an unfamiliar man wearing Island-style clothing made of mainland fabric came to him in the dining hall. 

“Who’s it from?” Judan asked, leaning over his shoulder. 

He didn’t answer, but thanks the man, shook his hand, pair him and took the package with him as he escaped the Hall for somewhere quiet. 

He ended up on the stone walkway headingn toward the path to the city.. 

Dear Prince Leandros,

The Alliance Council is happy to receive news of your interest, but due to the restrictions of your position, we are unable to consider it. Please petition the Noble Council to rectify the situation.

He couldn’t breath. What the fuck did that mean? Since when did being the second son come with fucking restrictions? He forced himself to sit down and take another calming potion. He had to stay calm. There was a way out of this. He went to Minerva first, but she could only promise to reach out to her contacts and figure out what was happening.

It was lunch the next day when a Noble Council messenger told him that he had a pending court case. What the fuck could someone be bringing him up on charges for? He read the decree and narrowed his eyes. He was being conscripted into the military for ten years of service to Zarantia. This was Naos retaliating. He probably hated the idea that the Alliance Council had even started to consider bringing him to the Islands when Diomeios hadn’t even asked and Sorenas would never be reall considered. He watched the letter drop to the table and heard nothing. He blinked once. Twice; then, he stood without a word. He couldn’t even feel the fury coursing through him. He turned and left the corridor in a slow, patient stride out of the hall towards the front doors and out of the school towards the Dark Forest.

“Leandros!” Kevyn called to him as he walked to the edge of the city. “Leandros!”

He kept walking, headed for the bridge over the gorge. He reached it and looked down the great height to the ravine below. Wind swept up, cold and welcoming. The river gushing below went out to the sea. He couldn’t swim, but hadn’t he been told that all the rivers fed into the ocean and the ocean was the domain of the islands. It wouldn’t let him drown.

He was sure that somehow, he’d end up washing up on ther right Island. 

“L-Leandros, what are you—”

“I’m leaving Zarantia. One way or another.”

Maybe it was a bit dramatic, but he wasn’t worried. At the back of his mind, he knew he’d be fine. A short brush with the underworld might ever help him.

“Leandros, come back!” Minerva shrieked, her terror was palatable, tiniging the air bitter, but he leaned into the wind, furious that it started to blow harder, pushing him back rather than letting himm fall.”

“Leandros, please!” Minerva cried, hurrying down the steps. He walked along the edge, scanning for a spot with less rocks. He spotted and deep spot just below a liftin the ground. It would be the longest fall. Minerva managed to get half way down the bridge.

“Leandros, a letter from the Alliance Council has arrived for you! Please…” Her voice was despearate. He stopped and waited for her to go on. “I promised you to reach out. I did. I have a reply.… Won’t you at least read it, please?”

He considered it, seeing the spot in the water that would be safest. He turned his head to look back at her and considered it.