When Whimsy arrived in a cloud of gloom and a stark novice's outfit, it was almost a relief to shelve the important secrets.

  "What are you reading?" asked Whimsy, plunking herself down next to Charity and craning her neck unbecomingly to peer over Charity's right arm.

  "Antilles," said Charity. "Reflections in Still Water."

  "It's the nearest thing Firth allowed to be written to a holy book," interjected Earnest, "and it's nonsense."

  "What?" said Charity defensively.

  "I know you know this. Sure, it's by Firth—insofar as the priest was told to do something by Firth, and then wrote down what he was told to do, which probably counts as being by Firth. But it's just a list of rules. Do this, don't do that. Last wishes of the dying are sacred. Don't traffic in souls. Don't disturb the dead. Don't rob graves. It's not exactly pithy."

  "No one said it had to be pithy," grumbled Charity. "Besides, you can pick out what Firth values by looking at what he said—or didn't say—to do."

  "Okay," allowed Earnest, "but why is that important?"

  "Because we need to know why," said Charity.

  Morality smirked and traded a loaded glance with Whimsy. Morality had opinions on Charity's grand project.

  "Hoo," said Dalliance, for his part. "Beyond because—if it's for a bad reason, we can ignore doing the thing."

  Now everyone looked at him idly. He shrugged. "Okay, maybe 'if it's for a bad reason we do it, but we get it over with as quickly as possible'. Is that better?"

  "Piety," said Effluvia severely, "is not optional. Wholehearted investment in the rituals is optional."

  A whole empire of rote worshippers, going through the motions for the Pax Deorum.

  Earnest rolled his eyes. "If you're going to do something," he pointed out, "you might as well mean it." But he wasn't convincing anyone and he knew it.

  "Anyway," said Dalliance, "either way, we need to know what we're expected to do—and that's what the book says we need to do. So what's the problem?"

  "It's all to do with respect," said Earnest. "Everything in the entire book can be summarized as: don't be disrespectful to other people. And most of the things it says not to do are illegal anyway."

  "Admittedly," Dalliance said, after a second, "neither is necessarily a bad thing."

  "Gentlemen. This is on a test," said Charity severely. "I still have a few pages to go, and only thirty minutes remaining—could we please—"

  "Sorry", mouthed Dalliance, throwing her an apologetic glance.

  Whimsy didn't explicitly apologize, but nodded and lifted the teacup which had been placed at her setting into her hands, taking a sip.

  "It's sour," she complained.

  "It's lemon," said Dalliance. His own, likewise untouched, steamed accusingly from the tabletop. It hadn't been to his liking either.

  "It is okay," she said pointedly, "to sometimes drink just tea. With milk and honey."

  "Actually," Earnest said, "I think I understand. If we're going to pay this much for it, it almost seems blasphemous—"

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  "Just so," said Dalliance.

  Earnest nodded seriously. "—to spend that much on something you can have in the dorm room for nearly nothing."

  "Not that there's anything wrong with the company," added Dalliance, "and of course—" he gestured for Earnest to finish the statement.

  "We couldn't enjoy your company in the dorms," Earnest obliged. "It wouldn't be seemly."

  Charity left first, an unhurried curtsy and a promise to meet up later preceding her exit by mere breaths, and she hurried with indecorous urgency out into the morning, Whimsy at her heels saying something about catching a ride on her coach. Circe and Effluvia followed shortly, the ever-present guard woman Effluvia had recently acquired following her into the foggy morning with Morality trailing behind, having dropped a rapid-fire explanation that "Father says I'm to stay with Effie—she knows her way around and can keep me safe."

  And then there were two.

  Dalliance snagged the last few errant scones from across the table, as well as finishing Effluvia's and Charity's respective drinks: Charity had scarcely touched her own hot chocolate, and there was time before Practicals, if only a little, and Earnest had bitterly remarked that he had nowhere important to be.

  Water Street in the morning had an unpleasant restlessness: carts rolled by, great dripping water wheels creaked in their turning, men rolled back the vast doors of forges and opened wrought-iron gates of factories as throngs of people poured from the apartment blocks and queued down the zigzagging stairs along the faces of the buildings before spilling out into the streets. Bare-foot children ran by, hurling papers at doorsteps with soot-stained hands or harangued passers-by for a thaum to exchange for a page.

  Dalliance and Earnest walked for a little while without speaking, both of them bound towards the lift, both occupied with thoughts of something else.

  Dalliance was preoccupied with the need to perfect spells and skills—that wasn't new—but now the consequences were sharper. He wouldn't get access to the best classes, otherwise. Then there was the prescription: now, on top of Wit and Spirit, Agility was a third necessary attribute. Dalliance had already been concerned with just how much experience—and thus just how many creatures you would need to fight—to reach D tier, having stacked Wit and Spirit both; but Agility on top of that was a different order of problem entirely.

  "You almost weren't yourself today," Earnest noted mildly. "It was like you were asleep—you were just kind of there, existing in the space but not contributing. That's not like you."

  "I'm tired, that's all," said Dalliance.

  "Working hard on the tower top?"

  "It's not the work, really. I just don't have time for anything these days. Learn one spell, there's another one behind it that needs learning." He paused. "I perfected [Prediction]—did I tell you?" Earnest shook his head. "I don't know what it's going to become when I tier up," Dalliance said, "but there's that, and I was excited, but now I have to do that to another one."

  "Which one are you gonna pick?" asked Earnest, after giving the solemn statement the space it deserved.

  Dalliance shook his head. "Maybe [Werewind]. Where [Redirect] is powerful—Morality sure is doing well by it—I don't think I like it as much."

  He paused, allowing a group of bearded men to thread through the space he had planned to walk, before continuing. "It's like I'm me," he said, "but a step back. Like if I started behind my eyes, and then just walked a few steps back, watching myself look out through my eyes. And I don't care about anything. And sometimes I'm so angry at nothing at all, or—" he paused. "Jealous," he said. "Or I don't know. Anyway—when I'm the wind, it all clears up and I can think again. I like lifting things. For ten or twenty minutes of the day I'm not an angry mess." He smiled a brittle half-smile at Earnest, who looked truly concerned and had stopped walking.

  "You should talk to a healer," suggested Earnest.

  Dalliance shook his head. "Come on, we'll be late," and began walking again. "I just hope that when I tier up, whatever it is, I get to be the wind for longer."

  Earnest followed his friend onto the lift, apparently unsure what to say.

  "And then there's the homework," Dalliance complained. "I've got enough mana to get it all done some nights, but I was getting used to having mana to burn."

  "Now you're just like the rest of us mere mortals," said Earnest, "spending all your energy doing things you don't want to do, and then you've got nothing left for what you want."

  He nudged Earnest in the ribs, and his friend grinned cheekily. "That's how Father used to put it."

  "Man didn't lie," said Dalliance darkly. "I just don't have enough me to go around."

  The lift clanked to a stop and they joined the flood of people emptying onto the lakeside circuit.

  "Maybe you should prioritize," suggested Earnest. "You didn't have to come to tea if you didn't enjoy it."

  "I have been multitasking," Dalliance admitted. He held up a hand; around it a gust swirled in an unceasing current, around and around.

  "Well," acknowledged Earnest, "I guess if you can multitask."

  Dalliance nodded. "This is me. See you." He began walking away, leaving behind a friend whose face was twisted with thought.

  "I bet it's hard to focus," Earnest said, behind him, "when you're lonely."

  Dalliance slowed but didn't stop. He didn't know what to do with that.

  Earnest watched him go with troubled eyes.