Lucky Rabbit

Kaden was a terrible tutor. He hovered around his sister like a particularly obsessive mosquito who’d finally found a source of his favorite blood type. Lian, on the other hand, knew everything, and was perfectly willing to share his knowledge with anyone, though he had no patience with foolishness. By the time the hour was up, Geraldine and Thaniel looked bored, but Abbington was doing remarkably well. Lian didn’t seem to have any trouble understanding his speech, and the younger boy’s earnest questions prompted Lian to keep talking long after the other children were ready to move on.

Still, while the two sets of siblings seemed reluctant to say goodbye, Pandy thought everyone was ready to be done with the tutoring session by the time the bell rang to let them know it was time to return to their rooms. Professor Beeswick appeared, firmly ushering everyone from the library, and just as Lian had said, the moment he and the other Kestrel students crossed the threshold, they disappeared. Pandy got a single Corruption Point when Thaniel failed to sniff back a tear, but Eleanor almost looked relieved that her brother was gone.

Another night passed while Pandy continued to practice her skills, this time huddling in the corner by Thaniel’s wardrobe to practice Spark. She only scorched the wooden piece of furniture once, and she doubted anyone would even notice the small, blackened spot, especially after she kicked the laundry basket in front of it.

With just over seven hundred and fifty Mana, Pandy was able to cast her little Fire spell one hundred and fifty times. That easily allowed her to reach level eleven, at which point she unlocked a new and exciting stat: Fire Affinity. She only got one point in it, even when she raised Spark to level twelve, then thirteen, but she noticed that the flickering flame grew larger and brighter. It took longer to realize that something else had changed, but when she reached level fourteen, she realized that she’d passed the point at which she should have had to spend Life Force to continue. Confused, she pulled up her status.

Name: Pandy

Race: Rabbit? (Deceased)

Age: 24

LF: 2/2

Mana: 33/852

Stats▾

Strength: 18 Intelligence: 27 Agility: 21 Pain Tolerance: 1 Charm: 1 Fire Affinity: 1Skills▾

Hop: Lv. 20 (6/190) Bite: Lv. 19 (44/100) Scratch: Lv. 11 (2/28) Minor Heal: Lv. 22 (256/370) Wings of Glory: Lv. 1 (1/2) Verdant Surge: Lv. 1 (1/2) Vita Herbalis: Lv. 1 Spark: Lv. 14 (2/55) Shifting Faces: Lv. 2 (1/3) Radiant Presence: Lv. 2 Innate Magic: Lv. 23 (41/460) Dance: Lv. 2 Dual Wielding: Lv. 1 Shield of Darkness: Lv. 1Boons▾

Ismara’s Blessing IMark of KerosAglaea’s KissCorruption Points: 30

Why? Why had her Mana suddenly jumped by a hundred points? But even if she ignored that, why did she still have another thirty-three Mana left? Yes, some of them were from her natural Mana regeneration, which she hadn’t accounted for – mainly because that was just too much math for a rabbit – but it was still high. Too high.

Quickly, she cast Spark, then checked her stats again. This time the math was easy, and she realized that the spell’s Mana cost had gone down by one, reducing it to four per cast. Was that what Fire Affinity did, or was it something else? Another scan of her status screen offered a possible explanation.

In Gacha Love, getting a stat to twenty-five was a threshold, like getting a skill past level ten. Some stats were easy to get, especially if multiple skills fed into them, but others were extremely challenging, essentially requiring Clara to max out a single associated skill. Once the stat crossed that threshold, however, it offered another bonus, and it looked like that might still apply. When Spark reached level thirteen, it would have bumped Pandy’s Intelligence over twenty-five, which probably explained both the extra one hundred points of Mana and the fact that Spark now cost less.

Still, there was also the possibility that the extra hundred came from the Intelligence threshold, while the reduction in Mana cost came from Spark reaching level eleven. That, or Fire Affinity could reduce the cost of any similarly aspected spells. Unfortunately, the only other spell she had with an elemental aspect was Shield of Darkness, and not only was she afraid to try it, she had no idea what it would have cost before her Intelligence reached this point. She would just have to make sure she paid more attention to her stats in the future, instead of just blindly grinding skills.

In any case, Pandy ended up with extra Mana to burn, so burn it she did, almost managing to bring Spark up to level fifteen before toasting her own nose when Thaniel shifted suddenly in his sleep, startling her. A quick Minor Heal fixed the blisters on her nose and – hopefully – the singed whiskers, but it was after four in the morning, and Pandy was tired of grinding. Instead, she hopped over and looked through the box of books that had been delivered to their room earlier that day. When tipped on its side, it became an impromptu shelf, and Pandy was able to make out the titles by the light of her final Spark.

Geraldine was as good as her word, and had let Captain Reedsley know that Thaniel would like more of his books from home. Pandy remembered the full shelves from Thaniel’s playroom, and knew this was only a small portion of the reading material that had been available there, but someone had gone through and picked out the books that an adventurous young boy might be most interested in.

As Thaniel once mentioned, the first book of Wayward Pirate Pete wasn’t here, but the next four books were, along with several other, similar works, all focused around young, male protagonists. Pandy was amused to note that eating vegetables and being polite was a theme in all of them, as was kindness. Obviously Thaniel’s mother was careful to select books that encouraged the way she wanted her sons to behave, but there was also a sort of wry, gentle humor in each book that made Pandy think she would have liked the woman who chose them. If only Pandy had appeared in this world a few years earlier. She could have saved Thaniel’s mother and prevented all of the heartache the little family had gone through.

She spent the rest of the night reading, and when the morning bell rang, Pandy closed The Adventures of Captain Fluffykins and His Magical Beard with great reluctance. She hadn’t thought she’d enjoy a book with such a silly premise, but every time Captain Fluffykins proudly pulled some ridiculous object from the depths of his facial hair, it made her giggle.

Off to breakfast they went, rejoining the girls and Abbington for glorified eggs and toast, none of which Pandy got. Instead, she ate fresh melon, veggies, and hay, all while smelling the rich scent of hollandaise sauce. Lord Winston still seemed suspicious of her, staring from beside Eleanor’s legs, but Miss Cupcakes spent most of the meal asleep, ears barely twitching as children chattered and plates were scraped clean.

In Homeroom, a girl named Lamonia proudly announced that the royal ‘pirate’ was King Fergus’s great-uncle Noah, which made him Eleanor and Kaden’s great-great-uncle. Apparently, Noah’s father did indeed give him a ship when he turned eighteen, at which point he vanished for a full year before returning with wild tales of his adventures on the high seas, none of which were included in the textbook, much to the disappointment of the class. Lamonia was granted the freedom to choose whether or not she wanted to participate in exercises that day, and thoroughly enjoyed watching everyone else jump around while she sat in comfort.

This disappointment caused a momentary rift between Geraldine and Eleanor, since the princess had obviously known the answer, but insisted her roommate should read the book and figure it out for herself. Which, of course, she did not do, since Geraldine enjoyed reading textbooks about as much as she enjoyed Etiquette class.

By the time they rejoined the boys for Horseback Riding, they had mostly made up, however. That was good, because Eleanor’s pony, Misty, developed a bit of a limp during her jog around the corral. This meant Eleanor was taken aside so she could be taught how to care for her mount, and she got to pick someone else to help. She chose Geraldine, and after that, all was well.

Thaniel, being small – even for his age – wasn’t particularly fond of horseback riding, especially after nearly being thrown from his mount at the Reedsley estate. By the end of this particular class, he was always a bit pale, and knowing he had to go to Governance and Leadership next only seemed to make it worse. Pandy hated to leave him when he was so unhappy, and now that the chancellor knew who and what she was – mostly, anyway – she didn’t think she should have to. So, when Thaniel tried to put her down in the hall outside his class, she clutched his arm in her paws and refused to let go.

Snickers sounded around them as Thaniel shook his arm, trying to dislodge the determined rabbit, and he flushed in embarrassment, before stepping to the side and crouching down by a table. Lifting her to his eye level, Thaniel whispered, “It’s time for you to go back to our room until Small Group. Remember?”

Pandy shook her head. Something was telling her she needed to go with Thaniel, even if that meant she had to play nice with Micah. Thaniel glanced helplessly from Pandy to the door of his classroom, then sighed and gave in.

As soon as they entered, Pandy knew she’d been right to insist. Mrs. Lovett was nowhere to be seen, and the tables in the room had been divided into thirds. In the first third, Micah sat at the teacher’s desk, feet up, while his dukes fanned him with papers. They, in turn, were being fanned by a few other students, including the ‘mayors’ of Boogertown and Noseville.

Meanwhile, the section closest to the door had been further split into left and right. On the right side were several unhappy-looking children, who were standing within a sort of ‘prison’ made of tables. Their bags were on the floor by their feet, and their hands were on their heads.

Thaniel joined the small group of students who were still ‘free’ and not dancing attendance on Micah, though he kept casting glances toward the ‘prisoners’. Most of the children who had been assigned to his two towns were there, leaving only the mayor from his farming ‘town’, while the mining town was down to two people. It looked like at least half the class was in jail, though Pandy wasn’t sure why. The guards paced up and down in the space between the prisoners and the rest of the children, and one had a stick tucked into his belt, which Pandy didn’t like at all.

As soon as Micah saw Pandy, he brightened, waving at Thaniel. “Bring me that rabbit!” He pointed at Pandy, and Thaniel’s arms tightened around her.

“Mrs. Lovett said you could only play with her when I’m traveling between towns, and I’m not,” Thaniel reminded Micah, even as the guard with the stick came towards him.

“Mrs. Lovett isn’t here,” the guard said, giving a credible sneer for someone who couldn’t be more than seven years old.

“It’s just a rabbit,” Micah put in as Thaniel shrank back. “I’m not going to hurt it.” He actually rose from his ‘throne’ and headed for Thaniel and Pandy, but Thaniel shook his head, backing toward the door.

“She’s mine, and she doesn’t wanna go to you,” Thaniel said. He looked around at the other children. “Mrs. Lovett said he couldn’t just take her.”

The other two guards looked conflicted. “He can if the rabbit wants to go,” one said, but he sounded uncertain.

Micah grinned, holding out his arms. For a moment, Pandy thought about going to the obnoxious boy, just to keep the peace, but looking up at Thaniel’s expression, she knew it was too late. He had his stubborn face on, and even if she let Micah take her, there was no way Thaniel was going to let her go. She really should have just gone to their room and waited. Except then Thaniel would have been here alone, and the way this was going, he might well have ended up in ‘jail’ himself before the end of the class. Somehow, Pandy didn’t think that would have gone over well, either.

Turning to the three remaining students in his towns, Thaniel said, “I told you! We’re all going to be in jail by the end of the day. Are you just gonna let him do this?”

The mayor of the farming town bit her lip, glancing toward her former citizens, who stood frozen in jail, hands locked on their heads while they watched what was happening with expressions that said a rebellion had been brewing for a while now. “But Mrs. Lovett said-”

“She didn’t say he could make us hop on one leg for a whole class, or force us to give him all our food and money, or…or put everybody in jail! Just ‘cause he’s king doesn’t mean he’s automatically right. Besides, he’s only the king because Mrs. Lovett pointed at him first. It could’ve been any of us,” Thaniel said, glaring from Micah to the guards. The dukes had approached now, too, but they were just dithering in the background, clearly unwilling to pick a side.

“But it wasn’t. She made me king, not any of you,” Micah said, his own chin starting to jut forward. His eyes were darting around at the defiant expressions on the faces of the other students, though, and he took a step back. “It doesn’t matter. Your stupid rabbit probably has fleas anyway.”

But the guard with the stick wasn’t listening. He was focused on Pandy, and he drew his weapon, poking it into her face. It hit her nose, and Pandy flinched. That was all it took.

Thaniel was fast, and surprisingly strong for his size. He all but dropped Pandy on the table next to him, grabbing the stick and pulling hard. The guards had been selected for their relatively sturdy builds, and when this one stumbled forward, pulled off balance by Thaniel’s action, he threw a solid sixty pounds of weight behind his ‘sword’, and the jagged end of the stick was pointed straight for Thaniel’s abdomen.

Pandy didn’t even hesitate. Hoping that she was mostly concealed by the guard’s body, she launched herself at the fake weapon that had abruptly become a real one. Chomping down on the inch-thick piece of wood, she thought,

Bite successful. Sixty-five uses before next level.

Wood disintegrated between her teeth, but Pandy wasn’t done. Using her momentum, she swung her body around, knocking the broken half of the stick to the side so it struck the wall, clattering harmlessly to the floor. Without anything left to hold onto, she dropped to the floor, quickly scrambling back to throw herself beneath the stumbling guard’s feet. He tripped, landing on his face, and began to cry. Honestly, she felt bad about that last part, but he’d started it!

The whole classroom froze, shocked by what had just happened, and into that silence came the sound of the door opening, and Mrs. Lovett saying, “That’s enough.” Her voice was calm, but her eyes were darting between Pandy and the crying boy, so Pandy thought this had gotten a little more out of hand than she’d expected. Still, the teacher just helped up the former guard, who seemed to be crying more from embarrassment than injury, and had all of the students work together to return the classroom to its original configuration.

Only when everyone was seated again – with the former prisoners looking particularly relieved, but still unhappy – did the teacher come to stand in front of her desk, looking around at them all. “Now,” she said, “can anyone tell me what happened?”

Almost everyone raised their hands, but Mrs. Lovett started with Micah, who turned everything around, insisting that if Thaniel had just obeyed the law, then everything would have been fine. The dukes backed him up, even though one of them looked distinctly shifty as he did so. The boy who’d brought the stick was particularly upset when it came to his turn, but one of the remaining guards just kept sinking lower and lower into his seat as the others spoke. To Pandy’s surprise and disappointment Mrs. Lovett didn’t force him to speak, skipping straight to Thaniel instead.

As Thaniel gave an impassioned speech, the teacher continued to nod, but it became increasingly clear that she was dismissing everything he said. When the boy finally gave up and stopped talking – though Pandy could feel the fierce tension in the arms that clutched her – Mrs. Lovett looked around.

“Does anyone else have anything to add?”

Silence fell, thick and heavy, before the guard who hadn’t spoken before slowly raised his hand. When the teacher finally called on him, he all but whispered, “It wasn’t right.”

Mrs. Lovett’s brows went up, but she nodded for him to continue. He swallowed hard, pale beneath the glares of Micah, the dukes, and the other guards. Still, he said again, “It wasn’t right. That wasn’t a good law. It was fun playing at being a guard, but the rabbit really belongs to Thaniel. Micah shouldn’t have tried to take it away, and-” he swallowed again, then looked up to meet Mrs. Lovett’s eyes, “you shouldn’t have let him.”

The teacher’s gaze rested on him as it seemed like every student’s heartbeat joined to become one, pounding in the quiet room. Then Mrs. Lovett smiled. “Excellent, Silas. You pass.” She looked around, lingering on Micah, the dukes, and the other two guards. “You all pass, in fact. There are no grades in Governance and Leadership. Every student passes, so long as they show up and listen. This class isn’t about facts and figures, or etiquette and talent, like the other courses you’ll take at Falconet.” She paused again, and every student in the room sat up, watching her, taking in every word.

“This class is about learning to do what’s right, even when it’s hard. Each and every one of you is destined to become a leader. Whether you’re a prince, a lord, or an elementalist with high-tier summons, you will hold power over others. My hope is that this class helps you understand that having power means having responsibility, not just the freedom to do whatever you want.”

She smiled. “It’s fun to wear fine clothes or keep a stable full of horses. And that’s perfectly fine. But never forget: having wealth or power doesn’t automatically make you right. You, your friends, even your future king, will make mistakes. Speak up when you see something wrong. Learn to take responsibility for your own mistakes, and do your best to make them right. Learn to stand up for those who can’t speak for themselves.”

Growing serious again, she looked from Thaniel to the honest guard and added, “And remember that when things go wrong, those in power tend to listen and believe those who are most like them. Don’t forget that there are always other sides to the story – and often the truth lies somewhere in between. If you dismiss what someone says because you don’t like them, or believe them to be inferior to you, you may well fail your country or your people. Worse, you will fail yourself, and that is far worse than failing my class.”

Releasing them from her gaze, she turned and circled back around to sit at her desk. “Tomorrow, everyone will be given new roles in our country, and we will all work together to handle things like famines, diplomatic disasters, and figuring out how to pay for festivals. But today…” She opened her desk drawer and took out a brass bell, which she rang. The little bell gave a cheerful chime, and the door behind the students opened.

Everyone turned, and excited gasps broke out as Calum – the assistant cook who had been so nice to the children when they worked in the kitchen – pushed a cart into the room. A silver tray covered with a dome rested on the cart, and Calum grinned as he lifted off the cover, revealing a tower of cupcakes, each one barely holding up beneath the weight of a mound of fluffy frosting.

As one, the children turned to look at Mrs. Lovett. She smiled, and they descended on the cake like hungry locusts. Thaniel even remembered to bring a slice back for Pandy.