“Laveria Academy? That’s in the Capital isn’t it?” asked her Pa, “That’s so…far.”

Her Ma was starting to cry now and Arielle watched, speechless as the woman basically started to plead, “You don’t want her, she’s useless really. I can barely get her to do her chores. This Saint Lenore must’ve made a mistake, her seal was faulty. The only thing Arielle could do in front of something like the Demon King is die.” Her Ma stared at Arielle and whispered, “Don’t take her.”

Arielle looked at Aymon and asked, “Must I really?”

He nodded and explained, “If Krad is right and Saint Lenore made her seal to handle something – anything with regards to the Demon King, we need to get you Laveria immediately. There the empire’s most esteemed researchers can study you, Evol and Krad.”

“She’s not some specimen to be studied,” muttered her Pa, who was slowly becoming more involved in the conversation. His anger was a quiet one. He never had much to say, his companions more often crops than any living being but Arielle could see the anger bubbling to the surface.

She’d only seen her Pa truly angry once before. It was the town’s harvest festival two years prior, everyone was out and about from sunrise to well past sunset. She’d been helping in the stables since it was one of the only times of year when there was influx of horses, with family members often returning for the celebration.

The butcher’s boy had cornered her in the loft while she’d be tossing down some extra hay. Arielle still had no idea how her Pa knew something was wrong, but the kid had been bedridden for a week after her Pa was done with him.

Aymon replied quite plainly, “I’m afraid that’s exactly what she is now.”

Her Pa stood up now, hands on the table. “You all look at humans like nothing. The only species in the empire not invited to royal academies, but a saint herself saw something special in a human like Arielle and now you want to cage her like an animal to be poked and prodded.” He moved his hands to Arielle’s shoulders and continued with the most words she’d ever heard him speak, “I don’t need no broken seal to know that Arielle is special, but by The Saint, you’ll have to take her over my dead body.”

Arielle wasn’t being given any time to process things, and the reality of what Aymon and the party were requesting – no, demanding hadn’t hit until she heard her father’s words. She wouldn’t be going for her safety, or to learn, she’d be trapped. Her Pa was right. Humans weren’t allowed to attend academies.

It was said The Saint determined humans too fragile to carry on and fight on behalf of the holy word. As a result, the mystery of magic remained, well, a mystery to her species.

Arielle sensed a movement from behind her, it was more a sixth sense than actually hearing or seeing anything. Fuso was silent, like a cat stalking its prey.

It all happened so quickly, a few movements of the wrist, some whispered words, and an unearthly glow filling the space. Her Pa crumpled to the ground, and her Ma only had a second to scream and raise the ladle she’d retrieved from the ground in attack before she too was on the ground.

Arielle jumped up from the chair and swung a fist at Fuso, but Tysla intervened and caught her punch mid-air. “How dare you,” howled Arielle, “touch my parents.” She twisted in Tysla’s grip, pivoting inwards towards the dwarf to elbow the sturdy being in the face with her free arm.

Her Pa raised her strong, especially after the incident with the butcher’s boy. While it was nothing rigorous, the occasional weekly lessons were built on a foundation of daily hard labor on their farmland.

Although the blow landed true, the dwarf barely stumbled, hardly acknowledging anything even happened. “Fuso,” grumbled Tysla, “Take care of this.”

Fuso was quick and Tysla had an iron grip on her wrist. Frustrated and angry Arielle shouted, “May The Saint curse you! I won’t forget this!” From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Evol and Krad moving around but the world went black before she could figure out what they were doing.