Chapter Text
The petition ended with a polite plea: "That is why, if you would so please, we would appreciate if you put a term to your life," followed by seven rows of names and signatures.
Silver added it to the pile.
The first letter had only contained two words written in anger. The second, more careful, had stated its recipient and been signed by a then-anonymous dorm mate. Flenn Piercian had handed the letter to him this time, murmuring a plea to, "Hear us out." Then, they'd sat side by side for the rest of History of Magic.
He recognized the names. All Diasomnia, all fae.
All wishing for his death.
Silver had not known what to make of them at first. Some points he found himself nodding at, and others baffled him still, yet he no longer denied them wholly: true, he owed his father and Malleus his life, and true, he stained their reputations. True, they would benefit from his disappearance… but could it be so simple?
Was the way to repayment death?
Silver sighed and closed the desk drawer.
His roommate raised his head. "What's wrong? Tired?"
He'd not told anyone about the letters. "Did I make too much noise?" he said.
"Honestly, I wish you did. This group project is killing me."
"You're already working on it?"
His roommate scoffed. "Trein paired me up with a Savanaclaw—you think if I don't do it, he will? Ugh… Hey, you're with someone from our dorm, right? I wish I could have partnered with you instead…"
"Yes, with Flenn."
His roommate startled. "You mean Flenn Piercian? Damn, maybe my Savanaclaw isn't too bad after all…"
"He's not that bad."
"Yeah, I guess you're used to Zigvolt anyway."
Silver swallowed back words of denial. He'd rather be paired with Sebek than Flenn. Selfish, he knew. Flenn must feel more uncomfortable with Silver than Silver with him.
He'd never hated someone enough to want them dead.
When he arrived at the library with his History of Magic notes in hand, Flenn had only just booked a private study room for the hour. He held open the door for Silver to enter first.
"Thank you for coming," Flenn said, stepping inside. "I know we're starting it early, but—you understand, right?"
Silver acquiesced.
"Yes, well, I'm glad," said Flenn. He awkwardly pulled a seat and gestured. "I'm just a little anxious."
"I understand," Silver reassured again. He sat down.
Flenn went to the other side of the table and sat with a great sigh. "It's just— in case you're not there for much longer, yes? Meanwhile, I'll still be here to get a grade."
"Yes."
"I'm glad you understand," Flenn said sincerely. "That's your one quality, you know? The others agree too."
"…Thank you."
"What? You need to speak up."
Silver raised his voice. "I said, thank you."
Flenn frowned. "Well, no need to get upset about it. Whatever, let's get started."
"Yes."
As of that year, Flenn, of the influential Piercian noble house, was 196 years old. His older sister, gone before his time, had been a soldier under Lilia Vanrouge. He'd been named after her by his grieving parents and, for his entire life, longed to have met this bright and beautiful sister. That was why he couldn't stand Silver.
That was why Silver always lowered his eyes.
His father had placed his dream upon Silver's shoulders. How could Silver create more conflict between human and fae?
"Let's make our project about Briar Valley," Flenn suggested. "I don't care much for those beast countries."
"Alright."
"Trein said we should focus on the 1610 to 1620 period, right…?"
"Yes, to study the reactions to the Great Magic Recession of August 1611."
"When that beast stupidly exploded himself and sent shockwaves along the magic pathways of every other living mage?"
Silver nodded.
Flenn rolled his eyes. "Ugh, you're always trying to achieve immortality, and for what? Just to bother us… Really, if you're all so stupid, I understand why nature made you so short-lived."
"I suppose," said Silver.
Flenn's gaze darkened. "Don't just suppose. It was because of that Recession that our war effort was weakened, you know? And we lost our princess… and my sister." He shook his head. "Trein said to study the reactions to that Recession, but it's going to be difficult. All our records of that time are focused on the war…"
"I can ask my father."
"Shut up."
The atmosphere went cold. Flenn glared at him, the study books on the table floated up, moved by the intensity of his hatred.
"He is not your father."
Silver hesitated. "You never minded when I called him that before."
"You're so fucking stupid, it's actually incredible," Flenn said. "Never minded? Hah. It's because, unlike you, we know to respect General Vanrouge."
Well, it was true that Silver wasn't particularly smart, and it must be true that Flenn and the others had hidden their dislike of him calling Lilia his father. Although Silver didn't like being insulted like this, he found himself nodding in agreement.
His heart beat so loud that he thought it would stop.
The books landed back down. Flenn sighed and brushed back his hair.
"I really don't understand why the General decided to take you in. Why did he waste so much time and effort on something like you?"
"I'm not sure," said Silver.
"Ugh, seriously." Flenn groaned and dragged a hand over his face. "Just— do something for me, okay? For all of us, your father included."
"Yes?"
"Just, hurry up and die."
Silver's eyes flicked up to look at his face.
"Well," Flenn grinned, "not before we complete this group work, though. Okay?"
"…Yes. Okay."
The first thing Silver did as he came back to his dorm room was head to his desk.
It would have been wiser to get rid of the letters—burn them until nothing remained. Yet, he selfishly collected them in the hope that, one day, he would open the drawer and see his pile disturbed.
He opened the drawer.
The pile sat as he'd left it.
Silver observed carefully, every millimeter counting, trying to find a hint—anything—that would say his father had read them. Nothing. But maybe his father had learned to be careful. Yes, maybe he already knew.
Silver closed the drawer.
When that day came, he hoped he would know—that something would make him realize. A glint in his father's eyes, a hand print on his desk, a testimony from his roommate. Anything that would help him understand.
Anything that would confirm his father's approval.
"Finally, we can fly again!" Kalim exclaimed. "I thought the weather would never clear up!"
"Be careful," said Silver, guiding Kalim away from the masses.
Flight class hadn't yet begun, as not every student had gathered on the field. Excitement buzzed about after a long week of rain.
Kalim turned and would have bumped into someone if Silver didn't jerk him back. "Oops, sorry!"
Instead of looking at Kalim, the person directed his first words at Silver. "Oh, it's you."
"…Maedan," Silver greeted his dorm mate.
Maedan sneered. "It's Luen to you."
"Sorry, Luen."
"Hi Luen!" Kalim smiled. "Sorry I bumped into you, I didn't see you."
"I didn't speak to you."
"Oh! Sorry…" Kalim held his broom tight. He glanced back at Silver uneasily.
Silver moved so that he stood in front of Kalim. "I apologize for the trouble. Are you injured?"
Maedan laughed. "Are you picking a fight? How could some scrawny children injure me?"
"If that's the case, it's best we all be on our ways," Silver said firmly.
Maedan's eyes snapped to his face. Silver fought the urge to lower his gaze and tried to bear Maedan's inspection without flinching. Every inch of him was picked apart by those dark eyes, every weakness filed away to be used later.
Maedan Luen had written the first letter.
At the time, Silver hadn't recognized his handwriting yet. Instead, when he'd received the fifth letter, Maedan had slapped it against his chest and informed him that he'd formed a club. "To make things right," he'd said. "Since you didn't listen to my first warning."
Maedan scoffed. "At least you're not too bad in the face. That's the only thing you've got going for you."
"I thought my one quality was that I'm understanding?" said Silver.
He made a face. "Understanding? You're joking, right? If you were understanding, you wouldn't be here anymore."
"Oh."
"Why wouldn't Silver be here?" asked Kalim.
Silver quieted him with a glance while Maedan scoffed and walked off.
Kalim waited until he was out of earshot to speak again. "What was he talking about?"
"It's nothing."
"He sounded pretty mad though… I don't think he likes us very much."
From afar, Silver saw Maedan rejoin Flenn. Maedan said something and they both looked over at Silver, then burst into laughter. They didn't stay together for long after that, parting to rejoin their respective friends.
Kalim tugged on his shirt. "Did you have a fight with them?"
"No."
Kalim became more excited at his denial. "You should tell your housewarden! It's the housewarden's job to help when dorm members fight."
As if Silver could bother Malleus with that. He shook his head.
"Then you can tell your vice-housewarden. Isn't it Lilia? You two are pretty close, right?" Kalim looked at his face and faltered. "Are you feeling sick? Let's go sit down, I'll tell Professor Varga you're not feeling well…" He tried and failed to lead Silver away.
"I'm fine."
"Are you tired? What if you fall asleep while flying?"
He couldn't show weakness when they were watching. "Kalim, thank you for your concern, but I'm used to worse conditions."
"Oh… well, if you say so."
Kalim looked unconvinced. For the remainder of flight class, he stayed close to Silver, ready to catch him if he fell. Even as they came back to the locker room, he hesitated to part.
"You'll be okay, right? You won't faint in the shower?"
"I won't."
Despite his reassurance, Silver worried too. He showered as quickly as possible and came back out to wait for Kalim by the entrance.
But as he stood there, he noticed Maedan jerk his chin toward a corner, looking at him. Did he want to talk alone? Silver hesitated, but in the end decided it'd be best to do this away from other witnesses. He followed Maedan to a spot behind the locker room, hidden behind vegetation.
Unsurprisingly, Flenn stood there waiting for him.
"There you are," he said pleasantly.
Maedan grabbed Silver by the shoulder and slammed him against the wall. Silver could have fought him off but, glancing at Flenn, decided to go along with it for now. Maedan tended to run hot and acted before he thought; how could Silver begrudge him for being passionate about his father and Malleus's reputations?
"Finally wiped the smug look off your face, huh?" Maedan growled.
"Smug…? I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was making such a face," Silver said.
"As if I'll believe that. Do you think I don't realize how much you love to lord your supposed superiority," he spat, "over us?"
Flenn patted his friend's back with a laugh. "Come now, he knows he owes it all to General Vanrouge, anyway."
"Hah, but that's not enough!" scoffed Maedan. "He's still trying to gather power—against his own master!"
"What?" exclaimed Silver, baffled.
"Don't try to deny it," Flenn advised kindly.
"I don't understand what you're talking about."
"So you're telling me you're all buddy-buddy with that rich kid for no reason?" Maedan sneered.
"That rich kid…? Do you mean Kalim?"
"Hah, you hear him?" Maedan said to Flenn. "Who else, he says. Why? You got more political pawns you play around with? One isn't enough for you?"
Silver frowned. "Kalim isn't a pawn."
"Yeah, right. An idiot like that? There's no way he's not being raised as a figurehead."
Silver grabbed Maedan's arm off of him. Maedan yelped and tried to jerk away but couldn't. Flenn raised his magic pen in alarm.
"Don't speak of my friend this way."
"Fuck! Let go!"
Silver let him go. Maedan hugged his smarting arm to his chest and backed away. Suddenly, two magic pens were pointed at Silver. The two waited for the next move, wondering who would be the one to attack first.
Flenn chuckled, first uneasy, then loud. "Right, alright." He lowered his pen. "Let's not fight."
"I have no intention of fighting you," said Silver.
"Fuck off!" Maedan exploded, rubbing his bruised arm. "You think I'll just forgive this!?"
"Stop it!" hissed Flenn.
They bickered for a moment as Flenn convinced him to lower his pen. Flenn kept glancing around, like he expected someone to have heard the fight—but even if they had, why would they come check it out? Fights happened all the time on campus.
"We didn't mean to… push you," Flenn said.
"Please don't insult my friends."
"We weren't insulting."
Silver scowled. "I understand your concerns about my possible influence on Lord Malleus, but Kalim has nothing to do with that."
"If he has nothing to do with it," spat Maedan, "then you'll stop sucking up to him!"
"Pardon?"
"Next thing we know, you'll be bending over for that beast prince—"
"Shut up!" Flenn exclaimed. He took Maedan by the shirt and jerked him away. The collar dug into Maedan's throat and he fell back coughing. "Don't listen to him. He's just excited."
"…Beast prince? Do you mean Leona?" said Silver.
Flenn looked sympathetic. "It would look bad if you befriended Kingscholar… just like it looks bad that you're so close to Al-Asim. We're just worried about how it looks to others."
Silver sighed. "Kalim is my friend—"
"Yes, yes," interrupted Flenn. "You and I both know that you don't have bad intentions… but intentions don't matter, right? Did your intentions matter when you ruined your father's life?"
Silver's mouth opened. He stood, dumb, looking at Flenn.
Ruined his father's life?
He'd once overheard Lilia tell Malleus that Silver was the best thing that had happened to him in retirement, so Flenn couldn't be right. Was that how it looked from the outside? Did it seem like Lilia had been ruined by Silver?
His stomach clenched.
"That's why, don't be mad at Maedan, alright?" Flenn said. "He's just worried. You understand, right?"
Maedan snorted.
Silver struggled to find the words. "Ye… yes. I understand."
Flenn looked hopeful. "So you'll listen to us?"
"What? I…"
"You won't stay friends with that bea… with that Al-Asim, right? You won't put that shame on General Vanrouge and His Highness. Right?"
"I…"
"You won't disappoint your father. I know you won't."
Silver couldn't answer. He looked in between Flenn and Maedan, silently begging them to deny it, but they only looked at him in expectation.
He shivered and stepped back, hitting the wall.
Were they right? Did Silver's friendship with Kalim make it look like he conspired against Malleus? That couldn't be. Lilia was friends with Kalim. Why couldn't Silver be friends with him too?
Flenn put his hands on his shoulders, smiling. "I knew we could count on you," he said. "This is just the first step, alright? We'll get you to the end soon enough."
"The end?" Silver repeated dazedly.
Flenn looked at him like he was stupid. "Your end, of course." He patted his shoulder. "Now, go on. You'll be late to your next class."
They gathered in the Diasomnia hall, huddling into a whispering group that broke into silence as he arrived.
His father walked by his side, turning his head to look at them. "Look," he said. "Isn't that the club that wants you dead?"
"What?" said Silver.
"I heard they got approved as an official school club. Maybe I should quit the pop music club and join them instead?" Lilia mused.
"Oh," said Silver. "This is a dream."
He awakened to the sound of someone knocking on the door. He'd fallen asleep at his desk, and now his notes for alchemy class were wrinkled.
His roommate wasn't here, so maybe his father had come to visit? He rarely knocked. Silver sleepily stumbled to the door.
Flenn smiled at him. "Hello."
"…Hello."
"Were you sleeping?" Flenn sighed. "You really are such a waste of space. You know we could have had a real fae in your bed instead, right?"
"I… I'm sorry?" said Silver, still waking up.
Flenn shook his head mournfully. "You should be. I'm here to fix that, actually. Will you let me in?"
Silver didn't have the time to choose. Flenn pushed his way in.
"Close the door. I see your roommate is not here." He didn't look surprised.
Silver closed the door. "Why are you here?"
"Why? I'm here to help you, of course." He glanced around the room, then went over to his desk and rummaged around, flipping open books and opening the drawers. "Ah, there they are. I knew you would keep them."
"What are you doing?" Silver asked again. "Please don't touch my things."
"Your things? I'm the one who wrote most of those, you know." He shook the stack of letters. "Anyway, I came here to take them back. Clearly, you're not going to listen to our polite and kind pleas."
"What? Wait—"
Flenn flicked his wrist, and the stack of letter ignited into flames. Silver jumped to grab them, but in the time it took to prepare a spell, they had already been reduced to ash.
Flenn looked flabbergasted. "What are you getting so excited for?"
"Those— those were mine—" Silver stuttered, stumbling back so he wouldn't step on the ashes.
Was there a spell to reform them? Malleus probably knew one. But how could Silver ask him? He'd have to describe what the letters were, and what they contained, and why he wanted them. Why? So pathetic. It was so pathetic.
Because he wanted his father to find them.
He'd so badly wanted his father to find them.
Silver knelt down and gathered the still-hot ashes.
Flenn whistled. "If I'd known you liked those letters so much, I would have made more! Well, don't worry, I have something much better now." He slipped his hand inside his inner pocket.
Dazed, Silver raised his head.
At his eye-level, Flenn held out a knife.
It was a small thing, spanning the length of his palm to his major finger, with the handle bearing intricate engraving in a distinctively Briar style. The blade was sharp and pointed. A sentence had been engraved there in tinny letters: "may my wish come true."
"Well? Are you going to take it?" Flenn said impatiently.
Silver accepted the knife with ash-stained hands.
"It's a sacrificial knife."
"…What?"
Flenn smiled. "It's a sacrificial knife. Just for you."
"Thank you?" Silver said in confusion. "But why give it to me? It's not my birthday."
Flenn put a hand on top of his head and caressed his hair. "It's so you can kill yourself, stupid," he said softly, smiling.
Silver's heart stopped.
For a moment, he thought he'd heard wrong. His mind was still on those letters, and what it meant to see them gone forever. Flenn looked at him so kindly, touched him so kindly, smiled so kindly. Was it even possible to make a gift cruel? He felt so impossibly stupid, kneeling there in front of this man who wanted him dead. At his foot, looking up at him, not fighting off the hand on his head. Accepting the method of suicide with a thank you.
His heart restarted. Silver breathed shallowly.
His chest hurt so much that he must surely have breathed in ash. He tried to calm down, but couldn't. Everything felt boiling hot, from the sweat pearling on his back, to the uncomfortable moisture on his neck and under his armpits, his skin itched with it; worse yet were his eyes, sinking into his skull like they wanted to escape.
His grip on the knife tightened. Blood burst from his fingers.
"What do you say when someone gives you a gift?" Flenn said.
Silver hesitated too long. Flenn's gentle caress turned into a harsh tugging. He felt a few hairs pull out of his roots.
"What do you say?"
"Th… thank you?" Silver said dumbly.
Flenn let go. He smiled. "I guess even beasts like you can be taught manners. Well, I'll leave you to it."
He walked to the door, blatantly stepping into the miserable pile of ash, but stopped at the threshold.
"Don't make us wait too long. I'm sure, even your father is impatient."
The door closed.
Silver sat, dumb, waiting for something to happen, for Flenn to open the door and take back the knife, for his father to come in for a surprise visit. For someone, anyone, to tell him that this wasn't right, that his death wouldn't help.
Maybe it would.
Would it?
Would it be better if he died?
Father had raised him to be strong; he couldn't possibly want him dead now. He hadn't repaid him at all! If Flenn had told him later, he would have understood, but now made no sense.
It had to be later. He had to be useful first.
Would dying be useful?
Silver's head spun. He leaned back until he hit the side of his bed.
Flenn was so much older than him—he was older than Malleus—and his family had a personal history with Lilia. He was a member of an influential house with ancestral ties to the crown. When they'd met here, Lilia had praised him for carrying his sister's flame. And he'd studied at the Academy in Briar Valley! He was intelligent, mature, experienced. He knew the price of peace, and though he disliked humans and called them beasts, he made an effort not to mistreat them or publicly badmouth them.
All of this was because he admired Malleus and Lilia. He wanted the best for them.
He wanted the best for all fae.
Did that mean he could grab Silver by the hair and tell him to kill himself?
He could have fought him off. He could have.
Why didn't he?
Silver raised the knife and read, again and again, may my wish come true.