Maia paced from one end of the hall to the next, while Caelan cleared his mind for what would come. Leopold tried to stay still, his eyes wandering every so often to the doors.

The very moment the clock signaled three past noon, a voice from within called. To her credit, Maia tried to give some encouraging words. But her shaking voice prevented most of them from coming out. Caelan took a deep breath, thinking back on his drilling instructor's words. When you step in the front lines, focus on the target and get out alive. Everything else can be unfucked later.

He couldn’t help but give a chuckle.

The hearing would happen in the same room where they interviewed prospective students. A half-circle table seated the five members of the faculty. The Headmistress, on the other hand, sat in an elevated pulpit. As Caelan was about to take his place in the middle of the circumference, he froze in place.

As Leopold informed, they chose five teachers. Or rather, four lecturers and one "consultant." The first surprise came in the form of them all being the Masters. Each governing one of the major courses, Dorne included. The second thing proved to be the dark-skinned beauty dressed in layered fabrics.

“Oh great, the universe does hate you!” Leopold narrowed his eyes at the petite woman. “Also, why the fuck is Lady Vaedra here?”

Caelan recovered from his initial surprise, making his way to the seat. “Because someone jinxed us and managed to call the worst possible people.”

Leopold waited for the punchline, his round form stiffening when none came. “Oh, we are so screwed…”

Selene Veylor, the headmistress, cleared her throat. “We have gathered here today to ascertain the truth regarding the accusations levied against Leopold vorn Sturmfeld, son of…" As she continued, Caelan’s mind raced while paying just half-attention to her precise words. His thoughts remained on Lady Vaedra being there. He didn’t think anyone could call her as a member of the table.

“Hey!” Leopold floated right in front of his face, taking him out of his stupor. “Why is the ‘etiquette consultant’ that bad for us?”

While answering the introductory questions, Caelan turned his mind to his companion. “She’s the Master of Secrets, a spymaster for both the academy and the Kingdom of Lusceria.” That had the spirit take a sharp turn to the woman, who had been checking her immaculate and long nails.

Mouth agape, he turned back to Caelan, who gave a slight nod. “Oh, you've got to be kidding me! I didn’t even know we had that!” He pointed in the most dramatic fashion to her. “Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?”

At that point, Veylor began introducing each instructor for the record. “She avoids getting herself involved directly with anything. Or rather, she should.”

“And now… acting in her capacity as a consultant for matters of discretion, Evangeline Vaedra.”

As if waiting for a cue, the elegant woman closed her fan and directed her sunniest smile at the boy.

“Oh, my dear, sweet Sturmfeld! You mustn’t frown like that—it’s positively unbecoming of a young gentleman!” None of the others had manifested themselves above a non-verbal acknowledgment. “Now, how about we shed light on all your scandalous secrets?”

Her words caused a vein to pop on Dorne’s forehead. “Lady Vaedra, perhaps we could proceed without your theatrics. This is a disciplinary hearing, not a theatrical production.”

“Oh, Dorne, don’t be such a bore! I’m merely setting the stage—we can always afford some panache even at the most boorish moments, don’t you think?”

As the headmistress chastised the young woman, Leopold manifested an opinion. “Lady Veylor flinched just a smidge. I bet whatever you want, her presence wasn’t expected.”

“An unexpected entry point can provide new options.” Still, he couldn’t help but cast quick glances at the woman. “But it can also work as a trap.”

“Leopold vorn Sturmfeld, you have been called to this hearing to provide a defense on the many transgressions you have committed over the past eight months.” She followed that by giving an overview of the many things his companion did before he took control of the body. Those include things such as having others do their schoolwork for him, building a gambling scheme to trick students, employing “hirelings” to intimidate people into keeping his secrets, and cheating on exams.

“I’m impressed you managed to not get caught sooner.” Caelan clenched his jaw at hearing the true extent of what the now-floating ghost had done.

In response, Leopold shrugged. “Meh.”

“In light of these accusations levied against you, how do you respond?” The Headmistress placed her frigid gaze upon the seated young man.

Caelan took a deep breath, steadying his mind. “I cannot give a proper response, ma’am.”

That had all of the present, each with some degree of uninterest, focus on him. “Oh boy, you better not mess the fuck out of this!” Caelan ignored the remark from his spiritual friend.

For a long moment, the room was silent save for the faint tapping of the Headmistress’s fingers on the table. The Headmistress’s gaze didn’t weigh him—it dissected him. Each second of silence felt like a blade at his neck. When she finally spoke, her voice cut through the tension like a blade.

“Explain yourself.”

“Well, it’s just that I don’t recall ever doing all these myself, ma’am.” Caelan spoke in a calm, measured way, letting each word sink in before continuing. "The truth is, the doctors have told me that the… incident leading to my stay might have caused memory loss. At the moment, I myself lack most of what once made Leopold a person.”

The professors exchanged brief glances, a ripple of silent understanding among them. This all centered around the Headmistress, who continued to watch the young man. Dorne’s lips pressed into a thin line as he adjusted his spectacles, his eyes narrowing in cold judgment. “I believe I speak for all my colleagues when I question the veracity of such statements. How can we believe this is not merely a ploy to garner sympathy?”

“I wouldn’t expect you to take my word for it, sir. But my medical records, which I trust are thorough, should corroborate what I’ve said.”

“You would think the Masters of the Academy would have bothered to look that up beforehand.” Leopold smirked as he floated in circles above his own body’s head. “Makes you question a few things, doesn't it?”

Livia Trenith, the Master of Understanding, crossed her arms. Index finger tapping at her elbow, she studied the accused. “Memory loss is not a shield, Sturmfeld. Actions bear consequences, regardless of what you remember. The world does not grant amnesty for ignorance.”

“I agree, Professor Trenith. Ignorance doesn’t absolve responsibility. I do not bring this point as a way to challenge the accusations, but as an introduction to what I hope to convince you all.”

Lady Veylor raised an eyebrow. A smidge, nothing more. “Oh, and what would that be?”

“A better alternative.”

-----

“Proving your innocence is pointless.” Caelan had to grip his pen to avoid throwing it at the ghost form of Leopold.

“Don’t you know things because you played the game? Or are you telling me you are full of shit?”

“The hearing isn’t shown. I have no idea how it will go, what sort of evidence they have, or the school regulations in full. And despite the way all that comes out of your mouth reeks worse than MREs, you have some modicum of brains in you.” That last part had Leopold unsure if he should be brimming or scowling. Caelan continued explaining how all that couldn’t save his ass from the firing squad. Meaning, they had no chance to prove any form of innocence.

While Leopold bitched like usual, the displaced man closed his eyes to think for a few moments. "The way I see it, our best shot is admitting to being guilty.”

“Are you insane?” The way the specter looked at him felt like the suggestion had been to throw themselves in front of a bus.

Doing so would give a better impression of them. And let them use the ‘I regret everything’ card. Caelan pointed at his own forehead. “We can even use the fact we have ‘amnesia’ to make it seem more believable that we can turn over a new leaf. To give us another chance, so to speak.”

The small humanoid didn’t seem too convinced, judging by the way he kept biting at his lips. “Doing that would take a shitload of luck, bluffing, and the heaviest balls.”

Caelan tapped his pen against the table, his voice calm as a winter lake. “A wise man once said, ‘If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.' And with both our intel, we can achieve our mission objectives."

Leopold crossed his arms, still doubtful. “And if they don’t buy it?”

“They won’t buy any of it.” Caelan’s eyes narrowed as he leaned back in his chair. “But if they even begin considering it, we’ll have the advantage.”

-----

“Members of the table, I accept responsibility for everything done before my accident.” He got up from his seat, giving a better performance. “But I ask you to consider this: expelling me would not serve justice. I have no memory of Leopold’s life, and my father has already cast me aside. What more can you take from me?”

The room seemed to tremble when the massive arm of Magnus Holt came crashing down on the table, rattling it. “What sort of father does that, regardless of his child’s misbehavior!” His outburst brought a bitter look from Dorne and Trenith. In contrast, the disguised spymaster looked amused at watching it. “Also, calm down, lad, we haven’t decided on your punishment just yet.”

Bowing down, Caelan turned towards the massive instructor. “Thank you for the support and kindness, sir. But I hold no illusions on how this hearing will end, if I don’t offer another solution.”

Swallowing hard, he then prepares himself for his greatest gamble.

He closed his eyes and conjured her image. The way her honey-scented hair tickled his cheek when they lay together. The warmth of her small frame curled against his. Her soft humming as she doodled late into the night.

But also, of the months he would be away, leaving her alone. For a good reason, yet the bitter taste in his mouth came all the same.

Remembering how it felt to go out the door, wondering if that would be the last time he would ever see her alive. How powerless he felt when she came to him for help, right before turning eighteen. All that served to empower both his resolve and coat his main strategy to convince the table.

Those moments of love had been fleeting, but the pain she left behind would be eternal. The memory of her trust in him—her belief that he could be more—settled in his chest like a stone. He could not waste this chance.

“These past few days… no, perhaps for a much longer time, I have carried regrets. For things I have done wrong. For wasting time on meaningless distractions when I should have done what mattered.

He paused, his throat tightening. A tear slid down his cheek, unbidden. “For giving excuses for failing to be the person I knew I could be.” Voice cracking, he kept going. “I don’t ask for forgiveness; I know I’ve hurt others. But I have nothing now—nothing that matters. All I ask is for the chance to prove I can become the kind of man I should have been all along.”

The petite spymaster raised an eyebrow, lips curling into a faint smile. “Well, well, isn’t this a turn of events…” she murmured, her tone soft yet laced with something sharper.

Gideon Falkner, the Master of Creation, had been fiddling with a strange contraption. But something in Caelan’s words had him put it down and lay his head in his hands, attention now on the young man.

Dorne adjusted his spectacles, his expression unreadable. “Fine words. But words alone are cheap.”

Trenith leaned back, her sharp eyes narrowing. “Regret is easy to claim, Sturmfeld. What makes you think you’ll follow through?”

“Come on, Liv, let the boy breathe a little.” To the young man, Holt offered an ear-to-ear smile filled with genuine warmth. "It takes guts to admit your failures, lad. Even more to try and fix them. If you’re willing to put in the work, maybe you deserve the chance to climb out of the hole you dug yourself into.”

"We've got their full attention now.” Leopold had an eyebrow raised as he scanned over the six of them. “Damn, I thought you would fuck up way before we reached this point.”

“Now, we divide and conquer.”