Lysette decided to head to the dining hall first.  Partially because another one of her favorite custard desserts was calling her name, but more because she was interested in listening in on the gossip throughout the Academy.  Specifically, she wanted to know if any of the new students in her ‘fan club’ had made any noticeable breakthroughs in their studies.  And it would be a good idea to be around campus every now and again— at this point, for good and ill alike, she was too well-known to simply disappear into her room for days on end like she had prior to the new moon.  Not being seen at least every so often would attract yet more suspicion.

A few heads turned as she arrived, many with smiling faces and a few others with disgusted scowls.  She waved at a couple of them before grabbing her food: a plate of pancakes, a few pieces of breakfast sausage, an egg, and the last custard delight.  Though, as she reached for her favorite dessert, another hand reached out to grab it.

“No, please don’t take that,” the quivering voice of a young girl said.  Her hand was shaking, as though she were expecting something bad to happen.  But Lysette only smiled.

“It’s fine, if you want it, I’ll just get something else.”  Lysette didn’t exactly like the idea of going without a custard delight, but she wasn’t going to be just the same as the nobles like Kiarra and make a huge scene over it.

“Oh, no, I just know that there’s a student who really likes them and is supposed to get really mad if she doesn’t get one.  Apparently one of the nobles got mad at her for eating them, so she just went right up to that noble, demanded a duel, and then won despite being a first-year student.”

Lysette paused.  That was certainly one very loose interpretation of the events which happened that day.  Good to receive confirmation that the tendency to find exactly one of them remaining was actually being orchestrated by the student body and not just some aspect of the universe and reality itself bending to her whims.  She did wonder if someday, she’d be able to manifest custard desserts into reality.  Maybe if I were the demigoddess of confectionery instead.

“I think I might be the student in question,” Lysette said after a brief pause.

“Oh, uh!”  The young woman turned to look at Lysette and gasped, racing back.  “I’m so sorry!  I didn’t mean anything!”

“Please, don’t apologize,” Lysette said.  “What is your name, by the way?”

“Amalia, miss.  Amalia Basquerton, a first year here.”  She immediately looked down and away from Lysette, but Lysette caught a quick glimpse of her long, dark burgundy hair, numerous freckles, and the rather old-fashioned attire, glasses, and haircut she wore.

Lysette smiled and offered her hand.  “Lyse Barret.  Another first year.”

“Um, may I sit with you?”

“I don’t see why not.”  Lysette took the custard before pointing to a seat in the back of the dining hall.  “How about that booth?”

With a silent nod, Amalia and Lysette wandered toward the chosen booth.  As they approached, a prankster who thought he was being rather cheeky attempted to coat the floor in front of Lysette in a thin sheet of ice.  Lysette, able to see both the perpetrator and the rather feeble flow of Essence being delivered in the technique well before it finished solidifying, made a last second diversion and sat down at a table a few feet away.

“Was there something wrong with the bench you picked out earlier, Lyse?”

“No.  But there was someone trying to be tricky and get us to trip on some ice right there.” Lysette said, pointing to the patch of ice that had just formed.

Before Amalia could respond, a man tripped and began falling backwards right next to them.  With the speed of a blur, Lysette dropped her food off on their chosen bench, grabbed the man’s food as it tumbled, set it down as well, and grabbed the man by the arm right before his butt collided with the tile floor.

“Thanks,” the man said as Lysette helped him back to his feet.

“Sorry,” Lysette responded.  “That guy over there with the blue shirt and the toothy grin decided to try a little prank on me.  I apologize that you got caught in the crossfire.”

“Your boyfriend?”

Lysette scrunched her face and pantomimed a hurl.  “Oh gods no!  I’ve never met the guy before in my life!  And judging from what I know of him, he seems like a total ass!”

“You care if I rough him up a bit?”

Lysette shrugged and sat down.

“You’re okay with that?” Amalia asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?  As long as he doesn’t go too overboard, at least.”  I am the demigoddess of reciprocity, not the demigoddess of divine forgiveness.

Lysette sat down and Amalia followed thereafter.  “How are you enjoying your first few weeks on campus?” Lysette asked.

“I’m still getting used to things here.  And trying to better understand these powers I have.”

“What kind do you use?  I’m a pretty straightforward Physical Cultivator myself, specializing in speed and mobility.  As you saw just now.”

Amalia pulled a small rock out of her pocket.  She focused on it for a moment as it dissolved into a fine powder, and then a moment later, returned to its original state.

“As you can see, my Cultivation focuses on the manipulation of earth, stone, and soil.  Eventually, I should be able to fight in a suit of clay armor and throw boulders as large as these tables just by looking at them.”

“That sounds pretty interesting.  I don’t really know what sort of path my current techniques will lead.”

From what it seemed, at least, Lysette had many, many more options for how she could manage her own Cultivation compared with others.  And even more when considering her Star, her domain, and the degree to which she could direct the growth of her followers.  It would have been overwhelming, if not for her vastly increased mental capacity and multi-track mind to manage it all.  As it stood, it was something she only spent a lot of her downtime and overnights trying to manage.

“Hey, what’s the big idea sending that guy after me like that?” the wannabe prankster from earlier asked Lysette.  

He was quite disheveled, with ruffled hair and more than a few cuts on his arms and clothes.  The man who nearly fell just a moment ago stood just a few paces away, an angry glare on his face and a clenched fist raised near his chest.

“I don’t know,” Lysette said.  “Why did you decide to pull a stunt and try to make us trip on a sheet of ice?  And don’t play dumb with me— these eyes aren’t as blind as you think.”

“B– But, I–”

Lysette took a deep breath.  “I’m not going to demand you work as my servant for the next month or force you to start dressing up in frilly outfits or demand a duel with you like some people on campus would expect of you.  But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to forgive and forget without at least a little pushback.  Actions have consequences.  And I do think you owe the man behind you an apology for your little stunt.”

Lysette smiled.  “And I would suggest you hurry.”

The prankster turned around and lowered his head.  “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“Do you really think you can just apologize and expect to be forgiven just like that!”  

The man encroached further, and the prankster hesitated, cowering and stepping back slightly.  The former threw a punch, only to have it deflected by a quick finger from Lysette which blocked the attack faster than any of the other three could see.

“That’s quite enough, Mister.” Lysette said.  “There’s a difference between ‘roughing him up a bit’ and ‘beating him to a bloody pulp’.”

“What do you care, lady?  Just stay out of this already!”

“I think I’ve been ‘in’ this since the beginning.  If not for me, you’d still be lying flat on your ass trying to figure out what just happened to you.  And while I’m quite fine with a little tit-for-tat, that doesn’t mean I’m okay with disproportionate escalation.”

The aggrieved man muttered an angry ‘tsk’ before wandering off, leaving Amalia, Lysette, and the scrawny-looking Ice Cultivator with the blue shirt to stare at each other in silence for a long and awkward pause.

“Now, as for you,” Lysette said.  “Just what sort of stunt were you trying to pull?  You might well have injured several people without provocation with your little prank, and did so with a mischievous grin on your face.  If I’m honest with myself, I’m unsure that I shouldn’t have just left you to whatever fate he might have dispensed.”  Only the fact that retribution needed to be proportionate.

“I– I was bribed.  And I don't know who did it either.  I was just offered twenty gold and told that I’d be given two hundred more if I could somehow make a mockery out of you.  I– I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“And you didn’t.”  Not that landing on my butt like that would be enough to do so.  “Anyway, just be careful next time.  I get that we’re all Cultivators and all looking for funds and sponsors to help us gain power and prestige and grow our abilities, but the next person you try something like this on might not be as forgiving as I am.”

“Th– Thank you, Lyse.  I appreciate it.”  The man bowed and quickly walked off.

So, he knows who I am and that confirms it was a targeted attack.  But who and why?  Those were questions for later— she had made plenty of enemies at this point, no doubt including plenty she knew nothing of, not even a name, and trying to narrow it down on her own seemed like a fools’ errand.  Especially given she had many more immediate and more fruitful endeavors to look into.  The custard on her plate was one of those things.  The woman seated across from her and still looking at her with a perplexed look on her face was another, as was her upcoming trip to the auction house when it finally opened.

“Anyway, Amalia, I’m sorry about all that ruckus.  That sort of thing happens pretty often around me lately, I’ve found.”

“Don’t worry about me, Lyse.  Besides, I thought it was pretty cool how you just completely took charge of the situation like that.  I’m kinda in awe of it.”  Amalia’s voice trailed off.  “I– I hope I can be like that someday.”

“Is that why you came to the Academy?  To get stronger?”

“Yes, and no.  I’m the fourth of six daughters of a poor family who lives along the northern border of Domaria.  The soil there is not good and the terrain is poor, so we’re only barely able to grow enough food for ourselves and sell enough to meet our other needs.  

“So when I found out that I had a talent for Cultivation, I had to come here.  Had to hope that I could improve enough to find a position in the Royal Army one day, so I could help my sisters and parents have a better life for themselves.  But when I got here, when I saw just how much wealth and food they have here, I just can’t help but feel angry with everything.  It’s not fair to them.  Not after they’ve worked so hard and done so much, only to receive so little.”

“I know,” Lysette said.  “I felt the same way.  I too come from a small village on the outskirts, though, from what you’ve said, it was a bit better off than your town.  And like you, I have parents and a little sister I care a lot about.”

“Do you want to get stronger for them as well?” Amalia asked.

“I do.  Very much so.”

“I believe you can do it, Lyse.  And I believe you’ll live a life that would make your parents and sister proud.”

Lysette grew wistful.  Would they be proud of who I am now?  After a brief pause, to enjoy a couple bites of her meal, Lysette responded.

“Thanks.  And I believe you’re going to get a lot stronger too.  Just make sure to believe in yourself as well.”  And I’ll handle the rest.

“I’ll do it someday.  I, Amalia Basquerton, pledge as much with you as my witness.”