[Emmett]

The next morning, I opened my eyes.

I groaned, let out a yawn, and took a look around my surroundings. Lots of candles lay strewn about, and there was some dust on an oblong pan on the table.

I looked to the left, and found robes, a shirt, pants...

Wait.

I threw the sheet on top of me aside.

I was completely naked. "Fuck..."

I remembered following Jessica into this room. I remembered disrobing before her. I remembered lying on the bed. I remembered her mounting me. I remembered the candlelight. I remembered the azure light. I remembered the Spell Circle. I remembered the smokey scent that I still didn't know where it came from.

I remembered her impaling herself on me, and curled up on the bed. She really had just pounced on me the minute she could.

The worst of it was, I remembered going along with it, every step of the way. I could have said no, at any time, but I didn't. I just let it happen.

And what was that about me opening myself up like a woman anyway? Did men act differently? Were they supposed to?

I heard several knocks on the door, and ignored them. I looked toward my hand, thought about the glowy-light spell-

Spell Circle Siphoning My Æther
Her Weight Pressed Down On Me
Her Tongue Slithering Into My Mouth

"Ah!" I shook in my fetal position. "Fuck..."

The knocks on the door grew more furious. "Emmett!" I heard Grace shout, "We're leaving! Get dressed before we make good on our half a mind to leave you!"

"Alright! I'll be out soon!" I grumbled and forced myself out of the bed. Pressed for time, I ignored the Spell Circle on the floor around the bed in favor of the disheveled pile of fabric near the door, and slowly put myself together. Dusting off my robes, I retracted the deadbolt and opened the door.

Grace stood at the other end, glaring at me. "Do you not have any shame?"

"Can we not-"

"You hopped right into a woman's pants the minute you were alone with her!"

"She kinda-"

"Was that what you wanted from me?"

I froze in place, and shook my head no. "I didn't even want it!"

"Don't lie to me. You could have walked away at any point!"

My stomach retched. It was bad enough that I walked from a near-death conversation right into skin-to-skin, but Grace yelling at me about it wasn't helping. "Why- why do you even care?"

"Because it gives me insight as to how you view women." Grace turned around. "We're heading out. You slept past breakfast. We're heading to the carriage and flying back. When we're back on campus, stay away from me." She stepped out of view.

I drew a long sigh. First my glowy-light spell injected regrets into my thoughts, now Grace wanted nothing to do with me because Jessica collected on her price for our stay at the inn. I shook my head, accepted my fate, and left the room.

Jessica waved toward me when I hit the ground floor, and ran toward me with a reddish ceramic box. "Good morning, sir," she said with a smile and kissed me on the cheek.

I shivered, and nodded. "Um, good morning Jessica."

She shoved the box in my hands, and pulled me into some kind of embrace. "I prepared some breakfast for you, some pig chops and flatbread. I included some utensils in the pot, and I wanted to give something to you as a gift for being such a good sport, so the pottery is yours!"

I shuddered, but took the box. Food is food, and I was raised never to waste a person's goodwill. "Thank you very much."

"I already handed the payment to your sponsor, and your Squad seemed in a hurry, so you best be going," Jessica said, gently pushing me away, "Make sure to visit me in three seasons!"

"Um, uh, ah-"

"Go on, go on! I'll be waiting!"

I shook my head feverishly and ran out of the Dying Canary, bolting for the carriage. I placed the ceramic in the carriage before climbing in myself, and crossed the length of the cabin to sit as far away from everyone else as possible.

"Ceramic?" Samael asked, "How'd you get that?"

"Fucked the bartender," Grace spat.

"Jessica?!" Patrick said, "Emmy?! Did- did he rape her?!"

"Obviously not if she gave me a gift, you sack of shite!" I shouted.

"Stop fighting!" Feylance yelled from outside, "Also!" A wooden board with a glass pane and a paper behind it floated to me, along with a pencil. "You'll want to fill that in, Sinclair, preferably at peak of ascent!"

"Ready Patrick?" Samael asked.

"Let's go." Patrick shot Æther into the Spell Circle in the cabin. Samael followed up, and we were up and away.

Grace held onto the cabin for dear life, but handled it much better than last time. I was getting quite used to this myself - If I could figure out how my Magick worked, maybe I'd be able to manage this Spell Circle myself!

I had still held out hope that I'd be an Air Magus someday.

When the cabin leveled out, I slid the pane of glass out of the wood, and looked over the paper:

Rank the contributions of your Squad, with 1 being the lowest and 4 being the highest.
Provide Reasons.
You may omit a Squad Member, but your Sponsor reserves the right to veto.

I thought back to the mission. About how Grace handled the entire excavation by herself with support from Samael, and how Patrick and Grace tried to complete the extra credit part.

A small part of me wanted to rank Grace down for how she treated me, but I needed to be a professional. I started writing:

4 → Grace: Devised plan to clear the cave-in. Single-handedly cleared the shaft safely, and went above and beyond to try to help Patrick's gambit.
3 → Samael: Cast an Æther Barrier to keep more debris from falling while Grace cleared the shaft.
2 → Patrick: Attempted to complete the optional task of repairing the mine shaft despite us having no Earth Magus.
1 → Emmett (Me): Carried Grace out of the area when she overdrew to assist Patrick.

I slid the glass pane back in place, and opened the lid. And I did indeed find some pork cuts, along with flatbread cakes.

"Wow, she sent you with breakfast?" Samael asked, "Did you propose to her?"

"No," I replied, "I did not. She just gave me this on the way out and told me to come visit later."

"What's the catch?" Patrick asked.

"What catch?" I asked.

"As if you would ever be worthy of a woman's attention," Patrick spat, "How the fuck did you coerce her?"

"Patrick, drop it," Grace snapped, "Look, Emmett's a fucking pig, but he didn't force himself on the barkeep. She seduced him the instant he set me down, and he just went on with it like we were interchangeable pieces of meat."

"Disgraceful," Samael said.

"Desperate to get a good fuck in before you go rot in debtor's prison then," Patrick sneered, "Lucky prick."

Grace didn't believe me when I said I wasn't happy with the outcome; why would these two?

I ignored them and picked up the knife and fork, cutting into the breakfast Jessica had offered me.

I might have regrets about letting her have her way with me, but she sent me out with food when she didn't have to.

No one who sends you off with food is all bad.

The food was fairly decent too, if a tad plain. I definitely appreciated the meal after everything yesterday and...

Her Breath On My Face
My Hips Lurching Involuntarily

... last night.

The interplay of meat and bread reminded me of home, almost. It brought my emotions to a sort of center, and I wasn't even perturbed when Feylance announced our descent. I put my unfinished meal away and braced for the cabin to tilt.

We touched down at CVAC and rode in through the Southern Outer Gate.

"Stay for a moment!" Feylance called, and all of us remained in our seats. He stepped into the cabin, holding a fistful of coins.

"Is this about remuneration?" Grace asked, rather politely.

Ser Feylance opened his hand, copper and silver coins glittering. "Indeed. This mission was posted with a bounty of 10 Golden Palette Standards. Six of those gold coins are mine, per the agreement. Leaving the remaining four to be divided and distributed."

Several piles of copper coins, with some silver interspersed, floated out of our teacher's hand and into ours, with Samael getting a significantly more valuable stock. "First, the basic share. 1 Golden Palette Standard equals 10 Can Vahs Silvers, or 100 Red Flare Coppers. A squad of four divides this share into 6, with remainder going to the Leader. Mr. Michaels has received five silvers and two coppers, while everyone else received one silver and six coppers. Ironically, that leaves everyone with an identical number of coins."

I smiled and joined in the light laughter. "I have tallied and summated everyone's rankings. Mr. Michaels, Mr. Peterson; I have vetoed your declarations of Mr. Sinclair as dead weight."

Of course they tried to say I was useless. But... Grace didn't?

I mentally apologized to Grace for any ill will I held toward her.

"Mr. Sinclair has received a score of 5, and a merit award of seven copper. Mr. Peterson is next, with a score of 8, and a merit award of one silver, two copper. Mr. Michaels has received a score of 12, which is tripled to 36 by right of Squad Leader, and thus receives a merit award of five silver, nine copper. Finally, at the top, we have Miss Gardner, with a score of 15, and a merit award of two silver and two copper."

The declared amounts flutter out of Ser Feylance's hands, and landed in our respective palms.

"This you may find controversial," said Feylance, "But for my arbitration, I have decided to give everyone five silver equally."

"Excuse me?" Samael asked pointedly.

"What the hells did Emmy do to deserve five silver?!" Patrick burst out.

As the silver settled on our palms, Ser Feylance answered, "Mr. Sinclair has, by account of the two people who didn't try to stiff him, carried an unconscious teammate out of danger. This care for human life will be rewarded or I am not the Dean of Air. I will also reward ambition and creativity, as Mr. Peterson tried to go above and beyond with his gambit to clear the optional objective. Mr. Michaels and Miss Gardner have been rewarded for obvious reasons. This concludes your mission debrief, and I congratulate you on a job well done."

"Thank you very much, Ser," I said.

"Indeed. Thank you, Ser Feylance," said Grace, turning around. "Samael, Patrick, see you around. Emmett? I will maintain civility during Squad events and classes, but this is goodbye." With that, she left.

"Damn, you pissed her off," Samael said with a whistle and a turn toward the back exit, "Oh, Emmett: first formal meeting of the Squad this Enday an hour after lunch. I don't expect you to contribute anything, but you should show up. You are a member. Come on Patrick, let's go."

Patrick nodded and followed Samael out of the carriage.

"Enday, huh?" I muttered to myself, pocketing my six silvers and thirteen coppers. That would give me the rest of Saturday and Sunday before the meet up on Enday, and then classes on Monday.

I picked up my new gift from a woman I'd hoped to never meet again, and stepped out of the carriage.

"Hey Em!" I looked behind and to my left and Ansel waved toward me with a smile on his face.

Before I could process the feeling of a massive burden being lifted off my everywhere, I started sprinting toward him.

"Seems like your mission went well with the happy faces on your Squadmate-"

I set the ceramic box of food down and wrapped my arms around him in a hug.

"Whoa Whoa Emmett! I'm happy to see you too but this is a little fast you know-"

"Please I'm Sorry I've had an awful time and I need to be in the company of someone who doesn't hate me or want things from me or think I'm useless-"

"Ooh shit, that bad huh?" Ansel pushed me back gently. "First, get off me. It sounds like you've had a bad time, but I need a lot more time before I'm okay with someone hugging me, even awesome people like you."

"Sorry sorry!" I stepped back.

"I forgive you," said Ansel, "Wanna talk about it over lunch?"

I nodded so fast I might have become dizzy.