Lucky Rabbit

Within fifteen minutes, their carriage was moving ahead, winding through a space just wide enough for the wheels. All around them, other people called out angrily or enviously, but Edgar ignored them. He sat proudly astride a great gray horse that was probably a male, but Pandy’s knowledge of such creatures was limited at best. She knew more about the Cloudmanes than the animals they were meant to resemble.

Regardless of the horse’s breed or parentage, it pranced lightly down the street, its arched neck showing its complete lack of concern for the scattered shards and small pots that still speckled the street. Edgar waved to a few of the people he’d hired to move the wagons and their fallen cargo out of the way - all rather large, muscular men - and tossed one of them a small but heavy pouch the man deftly caught.

“My thanks,” Edgar said genially, motioning for their carriage to continue forward. A few of the large men glared at some of the angrier drivers, many of whom had been waiting longer. The muttering died down, then subsided altogether when Edgar flicked a few silver coins to the people in front.

Once they were past the obstruction, Edgar’s horse fell back until it was trotting beside Lian’s side of the carriage, and Lian reluctantly opened his window. So unfair! Why did Lian’s window open, but Thaniel and Pandy’s didn’t? Glancing up, Pandy could see Thaniel had had the same thought, but then the conversation between the two older boys distracted both child and rabbit.

“Have you heard from Bastian or Dorian lately?” Edgar asked. “I assume you saw, ah, Aiden when you visited his,” brown eyes flickered to the carriage driver, then Thaniel, “family home.” ‘Aiden’ was the name Prince Kaden used at school, where everyone tried to pretend they didn’t know he was the heir to the throne of West Altheric.

Lian sighed so loudly that it could be heard even over the clattering of hooves and wooden wheels. “I did, but we couldn’t exactly have a nice chat. You know how that place is. As for Bastian, he’s probably at his country estate, while Dorian is off fighting bears in some backwoods.”

Edgar shook his head. “They’re both back, and you’re only half right anyway. Bastian did head off to the Mossley estate, but Dorian got stuck in town. He spent the summer in remedial etiquette lessons after using the wrong fork at his sister’s birthday banquet. I hear he actually knows the difference between a morning jacket and an evening coat now.”

Lian gave a soft snort. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Why didn’t he write to me?”

One of Edgar’s brows rose. “I believe he did. About the same time I did, in fact.”

“Ah,” Lian said, clearing his throat. “I really have been busy.”

“Yes,” Edgar said patiently, “and all of us wrote to let you know that we would help you in any way we could, if you simply asked. You could have stayed at my house when you were in the city, rather than…er, with Aiden’s family.”

Lian shook his head. “Aiden’s mother was rather insistent on that point. Until the investigation reached a satisfactory conclusion, she didn’t want me running around loose.”

“As if anyone who knows you could believe you’d have anything to do with…that business,” Edgar said, giving Thaniel’s bright, fascinated expression another glance. “You’re a Light mage, for Ismara’s sake.”

“So was my…our mother,” Lian said, his face closing down.

“They think she had something to do with this?” Edgar exclaimed. “From the grave?”

As soon as the last word was out, both of the older boys stopped talking, turning to look at Thaniel, who had pulled away. He looked very confused, and not at all sure if now wouldn’t be an appropriate time to break into tears. Edgar reached toward him, but was stymied by the apparently inexplicable presence of the carriage door as well as the rest of the carriage, and the best Lian could offer was an uncomfortable pat on his brother’s shoulder. This left Pandy to lean comfortingly against Thaniel’s chest, nosing at his hand until it rose and began to stroke her velvety ears. Meanwhile, Pandy gave Edgar and Lian a look that should have said, ‘What were you thinking?’ but probably came off as constipated.

After that, Edgar kicked his horse into a trot and moved ahead of the carriage, while Lian tried to read to Thaniel from his book, and Thaniel cuddled Pandy, his face pressed into her fur. A few warm, damp drops made their way to her skin, though she would have known he was crying because of the Corruption Points she gained.

Fortunately, the carriage made short work of the last few miles, soon bringing Thaniel and Lian to a set of gates that were unexpectedly familiar, at least to Pandy. If Gacha Love began with a sweeping pan up the road to Clara’s house, the really playable part started with an only slightly less ostentatious view of Condor, the high-school for West Altheric’s up and coming elementalists, though it was called a ‘secondary school’ or ‘academy’ instead. No matter what you called it, the high, polished gate and multi-winged gray stone building were very similar to those at Falconet. Which made sense, now that Pandy thought about it, since the three schools were inextricably linked, with students from one feeding directly into the next.

Falconet’s gate was decorated with a different bird than the large one whose spread wings covered the gate at Condor. Presumably these were the schools’ titular birds, and in Pandy’s opinion, the bald-headed condor had nothing on the tiny, adorable falconet. As the gates swung wide and the carriage continued down the road, she began to see other differences, too.

Every young noble whose family could afford tuition – and a few who really couldn’t, but nonetheless sent their children in hopes of making powerful or wealthy friends – went to Condor. Falconet, on the other hand, was entirely optional, and given that it was both expensive and far away from the homes of all who lived outside of Knightmere itself, fewer than half of all those who could attend actually did. It was, after all, a school for children who were only six to ten years old, and most parents preferred to keep their young offspring closer to home.

The result of all this was that Falconet looked rather like someone had taken Condor and shrunk it to suit the smaller size and reduced number of students. The grand staircase down which Clara stumbled after being tripped by one of the villainesses was only six steps high, and while statues of wise – presumably – men and women looked down on all those who entered the hallowed halls, they were only busts, rather than the full-sized and full-bodied likenesses to be found at Condor. The annexes were less than half the size of the ones where the older students would sleep, eat, and learn, and, most telling of all, the romantic gardens where Clara could walk with each of her potential love interests were entirely missing.

The carriage drew up to the steps and rattled to a stop, the poor horses huffing as they stretched their disturbingly long, flexible lips out toward the grass that remained tantalizingly out of their reach. Pandy felt for them as Thaniel carried her down from the carriage. She hadn’t eaten anything since Thaniel snuck a few wilted leaves of lettuce and a rubbery carrot to her after he and Lian stopped for lunch. Apparently, pets weren’t allowed inside the inn, so she’d had to wait in the carriage, constantly worried that Thaniel might be choking on a grape or discovering a heretofore unknown allergy to eggplant.

Edgar and Lian paused at the bottom of the steps while a servant held the reins of Edgar’s horse and the carriage driver removed Thaniel’s luggage for more servants to carry away. As usual, Lian’s expression was difficult to read, but Edgar looked quite wistful.

“Simpler times, eh, Killian?” Edgar said from his ripe old age of fourteen. “Sometimes I wish we were all six again, and just starting out. I can think of a few things I’d have done differently.” Of course, Edgar and the other three love interests all had homes in Knightmere, and had attended Falconet as day-students.

Lian gave his friend a rather cold look and shrugged. “No one has lived a perfect life. But you may remember I was only here for one year, and I don’t have such fond memories of the place.”

Edgar bit his lip, looking far from the aloof, unflappable young man he would become. “I…had forgotten. Well, it just goes to show how well you fit in now. It seems like we’ve always been friends.”

Honestly, Pandy wasn’t certain if they really were friends. Lian seemed almost as distant with Edgar as he was with everyone else, and though Edgar was friendly enough, he kept stumbling over himself when speaking to Lian. Was it possible that that stupid god’s magic had forced these two very different boys together, and if so, what would happen between them now that the story had changed? Would they remain ‘friends’, or would the original plotline reinstate itself, driving them apart? If so, would Lian’s taciturn nature and solitary lifestyle still lead him down a dark – literally – path?

The single door at the top of the stairs opened, revealing a short, plump man with red cheeks and a friendly smile. That smile brightened as he caught sight of Edgar. “Ah, Master Edgar! What brings you back to Falconet? Did you find that library book you forgot to return?”

Color rose in Edgar’s cheeks, but he gave a grin Pandy wouldn’t have guessed he was capable of, since the Edgar in the game tended toward stiff and formal at the best of times. “Mr. Benjamin,” he said, with obvious pleasure. “What are you doing answering the door?”

Mr. Benjamin laughed, eyes twinkling. “The servants are quite busy enough, my lad. The least we teachers can do is get the door now and then. Besides, all I was doing was writing up lesson plans, and I’d rather do almost anything else.”

“Almost?” Edgar asked.

The little man gave a surprisingly deep chuckle. “Well, I suppose mucking out the stables and cleaning the lavatory might not be as bad as I think, but for good or ill, I’ve never had the opportunity to find out.”

Edgar grimaced. “Don’t. Cleaning up after horses is exactly as terrible as you suspect.” He cocked his head to one side. “Or perhaps it’s worse. I don’t know what you imagine it’s like.”

That booming laugh came again, and Mr. Benjamin shook his head. “I hope I never find out. Well, and why are you here today?”

Before Edgar could answer, Lian said, “My brother, Nathaniel, is starting here this year. We’re just dropping him off.” He turned to Thaniel and crouched down, face blank but eyes unusually warm. “I’ve got to go or I’ll be late. Mr. Benjamin is…reliable. He’ll help you find your room and show you where the dining hall and classrooms are.”

Thaniel’s face fell, and his lower lip quivered, but he gave a deep sniff and managed to hold in renewed tears. “I thought you would come with me,” he said.

Lian frowned, and for a moment, it almost seemed he would relent, but then he glanced up at the sky and shook his head. “I’ll come back to visit you in a few weeks, and you can send me letters. A courier carries mail between the schools on a daily basis. I promise I’ll answer them all, though my replies may be brief.”

Edgar gave a soft snort in the background, but Lian ignored him. “The teachers here are adequate, and of course Chancellor Blackwood is here. He can do more for you than I can right now, anyway.”

Thaniel stared down at the tips of his shiny new shoes. “None of them are my brother, though,” he almost whispered, and Pandy’s heart broke for him.

Then, to her utter shock, Lian leaned forward and hugged the little boy, with Pandy squashed between them. She could hear the beating of both boy’s hearts, and if the hug was a little stiff and awkward on Lian’s part, his heart was pounding more than hard enough to make up for it. Was he afraid of being rejected?

Thaniel’s little arms slid around Lian, almost dropping Pandy in the process, and she was once again glad that she didn’t actually need to breathe. A few teardrops darkened the gray collar of Lian’s jacket when they separated, but that was all. Thaniel was obviously determined to hold himself together.

“All right, then,” Mr. Benjamin said gently, coming forward to place a hand on Thaniel’s shoulder. As he walked down the stairs, Pandy realized that he was actually a little shorter than Lian and Edgar, and quite round, though he was also surprisingly light on his feet. “We have a few early-bird students, if you’ll excuse my little joke.” It was an obvious reference to the name of the school, but Thaniel stared at him blankly.

The teached coughed, then looked down at Pandy. “And I see you brought a friend of your own. I’m quite excited about the experiment our dear chancellor has undertaken this semester. I believe that having a few animals here will lighten some lonely little hearts, as well as giving our students something to bond over. What is your rabbit’s name?”

Thaniel had gathered Pandy back to his chest when Lian released him, and now he held her up so her nose almost brushed against the teacher’s round, red one. It was quite embarrassing actually, especially when the tickle of her whiskers immediately caused Mr. Benjamin to sneeze in her face. The little man stepped back, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket.

“Oh, dear, I do apologize,” he said, pressing the white square to his nose. “I’m mildly allergic to some kinds of fur, and it seems that rabbit is among those.” He managed to smile as he stepped back up the stairs, out of range of Pandy and her hazardous hair.

Now Thaniel looked even more worried, but Mr. Benjamin waved a hand as he dabbed at his nose. “Have no fear, young Master Nathaniel. Your rabbit is welcome and safe. It simply seems it will not be able to attend my classes, but unless it can Allemande or play the violin, I doubt that will be a problem.” He paused as if waiting for a laugh, and when none came, he sighed in quiet regret.

Turning to the two older boys, Mr. Benjamin bowed slightly and said, “You should get on, if you hope to make it to Kestrel before the gates close. Chancellor Lockhart can be quite strict, as you know.”

Lian climbed back into the carriage, an act which made the hungry horses give the sweet grass growing just out of reach one more longing look before heaving twin sighs. Edgar retrieved his mount from the servant and swung up into the saddle, leading the way down the road. Thaniel lifted a hand to wave, but as far as Pandy could tell, Lian never looked back.