In the next class, students are to introduce themselves one by one, giving them an opportunity to interact with their classmates and the teacher. I remember now that we did this too, shortly after I entered this school. I’m pretty sure after said class we were told to explore the school—not tour it with the teacher’s supervision, but use a map each of us was given and move on our own.
“Commoners...” says a female student. Another one simply giggles.
The children introduce themselves; it’s only during Satanás’s and my younger self’s turns that you can hear anybody stifling a laugh. But in both cases Mr. Bordon directs a withering stare towards the students responsible, bringing the snickering to an abrupt halt. As I stand beside him, I look at his profile and hold the roll book tight with both arms. I never noticed it in the past, but apparently he helped me out a lot back then.
“She’s there in her seat, alright,” says Prince Zenon beside me, having magically concealed himself.
“Um... Are you sure about this?”
“I am. You don’t need to use Necromancy.”
We talk in hushed voices.
Necromancy is a spell restricted to the lightning school of magic. It allows you to look at a possessed individual and see who exactly is possessing them, regardless of whether it’s a human or a demon holding the reins. It also makes you see spirits for the duration of the spell, both those who are currently away from their living body and those of the dead.
It’s mentally taxing and has been known to cause mental illness, so not many people use it unless it’s absolutely necessary. The prince is here to use it in my stead, so that I don’t have to. I really didn’t want to ask this of him, since he’d be seeing not just whatever’s possessing Treyse, but everything else as well—however, he flatly refused to cast the spell on me, so I gave in and accepted his offer. It’s awfully gentlemanly of our prince, but also oh so stubborn.
Benjamine told the teacher in charge of the class where Prince Zenon was assigned that he’s laid up in the infirmary with some yet-undiagnosed crud.
“My name is Treyse Drenman. I look forward to studying with everyone,” begins Treyse, blinking, her eyes drawn to the floor.
It’s finally her turn to introduce herself. She bows, swaying her lustrous white hair, then awkwardly smooths down her unruly bangs.
“I’m so jealous you get to sit by Alois’s side!” says one of the girls.
“Oh, but this is only a temporary arrangement, so there may come a time I shall get such an opportunity as well.”
“Please, Miss Maris, you should know full well that that is out of the question!”
“You just laughed, did you not?!”
Treyse’s bombarded with envy from the other girls once she sits back down. At first I wonder what there is to be so jealous about, but then I remember I’m in quite the panic myself over her sitting by Rockmann’s side. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not the proximity of the seats I’m so jealous about—I’m just worried our current relationship might change. Because of our memories together and stuff. And so I don’t actually care where she sits, or so I tell myself.
At the end of the day, though, I’m trying to protect my place there. So I guess it’s a problem for me if my seat isn’t by his side? Even if, back then, I didn’t think that way at all.
My little self sitting next to Treyse speaks in a low voice for some reason, likely because she doesn’t know her well. What are they even talking about? Treyse doesn’t look annoyed in the slightest as she listens to me. Then she laughs gracefully, bringing her hand to her mouth. What’s going through her mind as she engages in this ordinary conversation? I can only imagine.
I’m the type that doesn’t like thinking the worst of folks (Rockmann is an exception), but shouldn’t her first priority be closing the distance with Rockmann rather than me? Is she looking to get rid of the obstacles in her way first?
As I look on in distress, Rockmann strikes up a conversation with Treyse. My little self looks extremely displeased at that, a huge frown appearing on her face.
Ah... She just clicked her tongue.
“Now that we have the introductions out of the way, it’s time to explore the school,” announces Mr. Bordon. “Everyone, use these maps and go get acquainted with the grounds.”
“How strange,” says the prince, placing a hand on my shoulder as soon as the teacher starts handing out the maps.
“Huh?”
“Someone is definitely possessing her, but I can’t see who it is. There’s something black near her head—that’s all I can see.”
“What does that mean?”
“Are you sure it’s Treyse who’s possessing her?”
What in the world is going on?
According to the prince, if it were “our” Treyse possessing her younger self, he should be able to see two of them, and yet he can only see some vague dark presence. The Time Keeper said it was Treyse who had come here, however, so all things considered, it has to be her. So is our Treyse shape-shifting, after all?
“I can sense things through my skin.”
“For example, when a demon is nearby, I get goose bumps.”
“...I suspect she might be possessed...”
Perhaps there is something in Rockmann’s words that I can’t afford to miss.