Hero: Part Three
“At least now there is good ventilation.” Only a few times had AA-Class ’Eclectic Dirigist’ Gauston De Miraval breathed such fresh air in his stuffy and dusty office, or enjoyed such an outstanding panorama of Miraval City and its lake.
The drastic change in atmosphere could very well be attributed to the absence of an exterior wall, destroyed during the Sinless Raid at Mother Korinna—a reckless action that had cost the lives of one of their most vital assets and dozens of minor ones. Of all this, Gauston had known nothing until a Gauswitzer shell interrupted the work Principal Miraval had delegated to him by obliterating his office, and, by that time, there had been nothing he could have done to save Mr. Anhogi. Now, after so many days, the Head of Department had finally found the time to visit the ruins of his former life.
“In the end, all my efforts turned into dust…” he whispered, picking up a fragment of marble from the dusty ground, one small stone among the countless debris of shattered paintings, broken busts, and other memorabilia that had once overcrowded his office. Each piece had once represented the pride of the Miraval Family, immortalizing the many members who had, stone by stone throughout hundreds of years, created the Miraval Academy—the prologue to the heroes’ legends. But now, of them and their dreams, only ruins were left. “Well, I suppose that’s life.”
His mind jumped back to the moment those relics had first entered his office. He had saved these pieces of history from destruction after his family had labeled them a waste of space, remembering the disbelief of realizing that only he—the crimson sheep of the Miraval family—still knew who the names engraved on the classroom entry plates truly belonged to. That revelation had sparked a furious argument with the Principal and his colleagues, with Gauston insisting that no tree could ever grow without its roots. In the end, ’Eclectic Dirigist’ succeeded in saving these artifacts by carrying them into the only place he fully controlled—his office—while pain-stakingly cataloging the stories of the people behind each of them, so their lives would not be lost to the sands of time. And yet, in the end, everything returned to dust.
“Oh, this one is still intact.” He carefully picked up a crystal brooch that had miraculously survived the explosion, depicting a little blue bird. A tender memory stirred within his mind—the first of the many he had saved.
It had belonged to D-Class ’Ink Heart’ Julianne De Miraval, a professor who chose to fight the corruption of his colleagues by neither with blades nor schemes, but with his principles alone, authoring the Miraval Ethics Code—a thirty-seven–point document obligating professors to act as immaculate examples for their students. Gus had always found his ancestor’s story fascinating, a proof that changing within the system could actually produce results, unlike the countless cliché tales of revenge. And yet, he was likely the only one who still remembered Julianne—perhaps the only one, still alive, who had ever read the Ethics Code.
“Au revoir, mon ami,” he whispered, closing his fist around the brooch until it shattered, then letting the fragments fall into the void. “The past is not meant to be worshipped, glorified, or clung to—it is fuel for the spirit.”
During the siege, the Academy had been struck three times. A bomb that destroyed the First-Year Class F dormitory, Xoàn’s bullet that pierced his office, and a fragment of the Juggernaut that shattered the famed stained glass of La Sacrée Cathédrale Notre-Dame des Saints Miraval, leaving intact only the depiction of Hero Roland and Hero Mario. Except for the first, it was clear to Gus that the other two were signs—messages meant for him.
Enough with the delays. From today, my personal insurrection begins.
A shiver of fear from his many doubts vanished under a surge of adrenaline, leaving him with that familiar sense of invincibility—euphoria. He would need a lot of it for his plan.“Now, there’s only one thing I need to begin my plan—a hairdresser.”
***
How should I continue? A love triangle?…No, that’s too cliché.
EEE-Class ‘Cat’ Eudoxia Zhelanya thought, stressed by her inability to continue the story filling her notebook.
She lay on a carpet of green grass in the Academy Park, breathing—together with hundreds of other students—the first fresh air since the Korinthian cannons had struck the city. In the distance, she watched groups of friends playing volleyball and other sports on the public grounds, laughing and letting loose since their lives weren’t hanging by a thread anymore. Meanwhile, she was alone with her pen and paper, unable to move forward with the very thing that justified her existence, and their laughter didn’t help.
“Should I skip this part and come back later?…No, that would be dishonorable for an author.” The weak autumn sun gently brushed her pale skin as the wind played with her hair—a mass of black curls as thick as the foliage of the trees shading her from the sunlight. “Mmh…perhaps a misunderstanding between the two lovers could work—yes, it’s perfect,” she exclaimed, her fountain pen already dancing across the page, weaving a masterful tapestry of words and immortalizing the idea before it could dissolve back into her heart and mind. “Ahh, it’s perfect—PERFECT! I can already imagine the Sandhedens Stjerne reviewers calling me the future of literature.”
“Bonjour, Eudoxia.” A voice behind her nearly gave the ’Cat’ a heart attack. Eudoxia’s first instinct was to hide the notebook against her chest, but her clumsiness betrayed her, slipping from her grasp and landing at the feet of the unexpected visitor. “Is this yours?” The stranger crouched down to pick it up, blinking a couple of times at the amateur cover—two hands, drawn and colored in pencil, one white and one black, hovering a millimeter apart, on the verge of a handshake but never touching. Then, he handed it back with a bright smile, and the ‘Cat’ shivered as she posed her emerald eyes on that man—she knew that face, and from this close, it was even better than in her bedtime fantasies.
“Y-yes…th-thanks…J-Jean-B-Baptiste,” she stammered, but, overwhelmed by her classmate’s beauty, she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes, extending her hand blindly to take back the book—her fingers brushed against his. She froze before collapsing onto the grass, face blazing red and her heartbeat shattering any previous world record.
“Sorry if I disturbed you.” EE-Class ’Blade’ Jean-Baptiste De Saint-Fayette scratched his head. It was the first time he had ever used such carefully regulated words. “Well…I wanted to talk to you last week, but the siege ruined the moment. Do you remember our training with Mr. Anhogi?” Eudoxia nodded, her blushing face hidden behind the cascade of her curls. “I wanted to tell you…that…” He hesitated. “I mean…the way you moved…you were amazing. I’ve never seen a girl move the way you did—it was like a Valkyrie was born right in front of my eyes.” Like thunder on a clear summer day, his words shattered her shell. Never in her life had anyone complimented her on anything. “Can I sit here?”
She nodded again. Then, they sat beside each other in silence for a few minutes, simply admiring the panorama. “H-how…how was the siege for you nobles?” Eudoxia finally managed to break the ice, still unable to lift her eyes to his.
“A complete pain in the a…I mean, b-back.” He coughed. “We were like cattle locked in a damp basement of the ’MIMT,’ killing time that never seemed to pass, cut off from every comfort—damn Demmies.” A few awkward seconds of silence followed before the Auxerine Prince found the courage to continue. “Ahem…what about you? I’m sure your dormitory was way more comfortable.”
“You’d be wrong.” Her tone faltered. “The fear of the enemy was too great to rest, and when they announced Mr. Anhogi’s death…I didn’t sleep for days. You’re thinking I’m weak, aren’t you?”
She began to shiver, and noticing this, Jean-Baptiste punched his chest three times, took a deep breath, then gently squeezed her hand. “Bullshit. I vividly remember how cool you were against Mr. Anhogi. Your movements, your strength, the way you toyed with him as if he were under your yoke. You wer…no, you are amazing!”
An earthquake detonated inside her. Not a single fiber of Eudoxia’s body remained still. “T-that was j-just a c-coincidence. In the following training sessions…I was…my usual self…” She waved her arms frantically before freezing again, hibernating mid-motion.
“Another bullshit.” He smiled. “I remember perfectly how clumsy you were at first, but now you move with more confidence. Yeah, you haven’t reached that level again yet, but the progress is astonishing—the only thing you lack is experience.” He muted for a second. “If you want…we could train together.” The cracks in his quartz eyes made clear that the young man had gambled everything on that single sentence. The ’Cat’ tried to speak, but failed. So, the ’Blade’ took her hand again, and this time, she glanced at him. After an everlasting moment, she nodded. “Great, we can start tomorrow,” he hastily proposed, relief breaking his composure. “The park is nice, but if you prefer, I can rent a gym just for the two of us—I mean, I’m very rich, you know.” With an awkward gesture, she refused the second option and settled for the first. “By the way, the book from before, did you write it?”
“Yes, but it’s nothing serious, just a hobby…ahah…” Her high-pitched chuckle instantly betrayed her.
“So you wouldn’t mind if I read it, right?” The ’Blade’ hailed from a family of noble Knights, and he knew how to strike the moment an opponent left an opening.
The fencing went back and forth like that for a few minutes until Eudoxia gave in again and lent him her notebook. “It can be labeled under a normal tag. Let’s just say it’s a mix of slice-of-life, adventure, and mystery.” She mumbled.
“Does it have a title or a main plot?”
“For the title, I’m still deciding, but the plot can be summarized like this—a Marian fakes his death to join the Miraval Academy, and on his first day he meets the first son of the Emperor, who proposes a deal to change the world forever. So, the protagonist juggles school, a life in a secret organization, and his new quest as the future Emperor’s partner throughout the book.” She hesitated. “W-what do you think?”
“I’m no expert, but it feels like you’re writing as you study here, using your experience at the Academy to shape the story. Am I right?” She nodded, relieved that someone understood her so well.
“The only thing I don’t get is why you chose a Marian. Isn’t it forbidden for them to join the Miraval Academy?” Jean-Baptiste pointed out.
“That’s precisely the reason. For those born with the Gift, aka all of us, becoming an Essentia is an obligation, imposed the moment the Holy Trinity writes our destiny. For a Marian, however, it is a choice, one they risk their life for. That alone grants a Marian protagonist a unique perspective, which, as a writer, is fascinating to explore.” The ’Blade’ nodded and began to read.
As he did, Eudoxia stole glances at him hundreds of times. She smiled whenever his reaction matched the one of the imaginary reader that lived in his mind, and sank into despair whenever he didn’t laugh at a joke she had thought for hours. After twenty minutes, he finished chapter three, and she eagerly awaited his answer, barely breathing.
“It’s excellent.” Her soul almost left her body in bliss. “But—” It went right back, inflating her panic to catastrophic levels. “There’s just one thing that feels a bit forced to me,” he carefully explained, trying to moderate his words. “Why does the future Emperor approach the protagonist so casually? I know it’s the spark that starts the story, but still…” The Auxerine Prince feared the words might hurt her, stopping himself.
Instead, she beamed—the most radiant thing he had ever seen. Thus, Jean-Baptiste had to admit that Llywelyn was right—when Eudoxia smiled, no other girl could compare.
“NO SPOILERS!”
