Sparks all but flew in the lobby of the Farranah Auction House as Kiarra and Lysette made eye contact. Kiarra’s blonde hair raised slightly and Lysette’s aurasight instinctively flared back to its full extent as the two neared one another, and though Lysette felt confident if the altercation were to come to blows, making a scene was near the bottom of the list of things she wanted to do on an afternoon that was otherwise shaping up to be quite the pleasant one.

“And just what are you doing here?” Kiarra asked, her scowl ever omnipresent.

“Leaving.” Lysette attempted to walk out the door, but a massive force pushed her back.

“Is something the matter, Kia?”

The voice was quiet to the ears, and yet deafeningly loud at the same time. Just the presence this voice carried was enough to make someone of weaker constitution pass out, so full of Essence and sheer willpower it was. Even Lysette struggled to maintain her footing as the full weight of the opposing aura cascaded down upon her. Her aurasight picked up a beacon of pure white light nearly as bright as the sun, and even without seeing the man’s face, she knew without a doubt exactly who the man was.

Lysette bowed her head. “It’s an honor to finally meet you face to face, Lord Dozel. I can feel quite well that the reputation you have is deserved.”

“Do I know you, child?”

Lord Dozel squinted slightly, and Lysette could feel the intense pressure weighing on her like a ton of bricks once more. It was as though his mere gaze was prying her mind open, forcing her to bear all her secrets, and even with all her might brought to the forefront, she was only barely able to withstand the mental onslaught. After perhaps a minute of Lysette weathering the storm, the oppressive force relented, and the two looked each other eye to eye.

Only his gray hair atop Lord Dozel’s head gave any indication that he was a centuries-old legend rather than a spry and youthful man in his prime. His face was chiseled and masculine, utterly devoid of wrinkles or other imperfections. His muscles were toned, well-enough defined that the protrusions formed a clear outline underneath his suit. Lysette couldn’t tell exactly what it was made of— it looked like silk, but it also appeared to be treated with Essence and was definitely worth at least a lifetime’s salary for a non-Cultivator.

“Not by face, Lord Dozel. But your great granddaughter here had informed me a few days ago that you so graciously granted me a death sentence as a graduation gift. I’m just relieved I have an opportunity to personally thank you for your generosity.”

Lord Dozel paused for a moment. “Ah. The Barret child. Curious.” He muttered something under his breath in a language Lysette didn’t recognize.

“Were you the one who acquired the Black Essence truffle by any chance?” he asked.

“I- I had stumbled upon it a few days ago. I didn't feel confident using it for my own benefit, so I decided it was best to sell it to purchase more resources I could use to further my Cultivation,” Lysette responded, not really caring for further pleasantries or deference.

Lord Dozel squinted and looked toward the ceiling as though he were pondering something, though Lysette had no idea what. If he had had the desire to break Domarian law and kill her any sooner than graduation day, he would have done so, and barring that, Lysette couldn’t make her standing with him any worse by acting in accordance with her regard for the ancient Cultivator.

“I was just thinking that if you have such talent at such a young age, perhaps killing you would be a waste after all. I would be willing to make a deal. Come and work for my house after graduation. You have my word that the arrangement would be a fruitful one. I do have use for Cultivators with great talent such as yourself.”

“As a servant, or perhaps to warm the bed of one of your great-grandsons, I imagine. While I appreciate the offer, I decline.”

‘Go choke on a custard’ was what she wanted to say.

“That is truly a shame, Miss Barret. You would decline my magnanimity?”

“I want to live as my own person, not as a servant. Even if that means an early grave rather than a life in a cage.”

"I see. Miss Barret, if I may give one piece of advice to you. I do not know what your village was like or its customs and ways of life. But here in Cultivator society, peace and order are maintained by everyone knowing their place within this society and acting in accordance with their station. You would do well to remember that.

"Before you leave, though. It would be such a shame to kill someone so talented when there are other opportunities for you to repay us for your transgressions. Opportunities that don't involve throwing your life away. You don't need to decide immediately, but I hope that the next time we do cross paths, you will be more amicable to my proposal."

With no further words, the two shared one final glance before Kiarra and Lord Dozel walked toward the back of the lobby and Lysette walked back outside, looking up at the mid-afternoon sky and back toward campus.

Just the idea of serving such a wicked man in any capacity sickened Lysette more than she would have thought possible. It would be akin to slavery by another name, all for the alleged crime of defending her friend and humiliating his progeny in the process. It was one that epitomized the disproportionate retribution, the iniquitousness seemingly omnipresent among the nobility. Though she maintained a stoic facade, her heart raced both from the overwhelming force her one-day opponent exuded, as well as knowing that she’d just crossed a point of no return.

Still, though her body reacted of its own accord, her mind remained eerily calm as it processed the situation. Although it was far from what she had intended when she had arrived, Lysette was beginning to realize exactly what her domain of Reciprocity required of her. Revolution. There was no other word to describe the change she needed to bring about. A complete reshaping of Domaria’s power dynamic. Just as there also needed to be some serious reshaping of the power dynamic among the denizens of the Celestial Realm.

Zarielle was unlikely to be thrilled with Lysette’s newfound purpose, but she probably was expecting something similar, or so Lysette told herself. She would understand that, as one who carried divinity within her, that both of them were bound to act in accordance with the principles of their respective domains. Lysette suppressed a laugh. Why else would the Goddess of Night entrust her with a portion of her power and give her such an important mission, and then leave her completely in the dark about how to actually carry said mission out?

The walk back to the Academy was pleasantly uneventful, and again no one seemed to pay any attention to her as she walked at a more hurried pace than before, eager to get back to the relative safety that being on campus provided. Before she did, though, she made a brief detour at a shop right along the northwestern edge of campus to pick up a sheet of silken black fabric. It was a fair bit more expensive than she would have liked— forty gold— but it was specially treated for use as a substrate for Creation, something she was finally prepared to try her hands on with the knowledge she’d since gained.

Rather than to the dorms, she instead headed toward a smaller two-story building on the south side of campus, one which housed a number of classrooms, lecture halls, and, most importantly, some quiet and spacious workspaces for students who wished to try their hands at Creation. The walls themselves were thick and reinforced with soundproofing to help students better concentrate while performing the delicate processes involved.

“Miss Barret?” a familiar voice said as she walked into the hallway. “I was beginning to wonder if something had happened to you, with your recent absences from class.”

Lysette looked up to see a familiar face. Professor Eativ approached with a stern look on his face, offering a brief handshake which Lysette reciprocated.

“I apologize. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately, followed by my practice match with Serrena and sudden hospitalization. As much as I know it should be while I’m here, attending class has not been on the forefront of my priorities.”

Professor Eativ nodded almost imperceptibly. “I am not worried about that. I know that you’re an exceptional student, as well as how you’ve so effortlessly mastered techniques that I don’t expect even upperclassmen to be aware of. Quite frankly, from what I’ve seen, this introduction course is wasted on you.

“What I’m worried about is the reputation you’re gaining on campus and the number of enemies you seem to be making for yourself in the process. I’m sure you’re already well aware of this by now, but after graduation, most students of your prodigious talent end up apprenticing under a master Cultivator for a number of years before they end up going out on their own. I just worry that after the… impression… you’ve made among many of our Academy’s benefactors, you might find yourself lacking in masters interested in training you.”

“I understand, and I accept the consequences that will come with my actions.”

Accepting that was as easy as breathing for Lysette— the give and take, the push and pull of the world and its inhabitants, of actions and their equal and opposite reactions, it was all becoming more intertwined with her very existence with each passing day.

What was a little strange was that news of her death sentence hadn’t found its way to the faculty. Perhaps it simply needed more time to percolate through the official channels, though, considering Professor Eativ’s knowledge of the other rumors, perhaps he was merely being circumspect about the whole situation?

In either case, Lysette had loftier ambitions than simply finding a master to train under, and, assuming she could get to the point where she was ready to face Philidor Dozel in four years, there wouldn’t be any human masters who could teach her further anyway. With a nod of understanding, the professor left out the same door Lysette had just entered, and Lysette traveled upstairs to her destination.

Some of the doors were locked, the soundproofing and construction formidable enough that even Lysette’s aurasight failed to penetrate inside. She didn’t mind the lack of vision, instead appreciating the privacy she would receive as she found a spare room and set her belongings down on a corner near the door. She locked it before turning off the small light-generating devices, then closed the window curtains, not out of a need for more privacy, but because it was easier to think clearly in the nearly unperturbed darkness.

With the environment now set, Lysette set a few of the small tables together and laid the black cloth she’d purchased earlier on the table. She grabbed the two Essence crystals and likewise set them on the table before taking a deep breath. She had had experience already with the process of Deconstruction, but now, at long last, it was time for the nascent demigoddess to finally embrace the other half of her dualistic role. Creation awaited.