A week has passed. On the outside, everything seems normal enough, if one forgot about the soldiers stationed around the academy. But that was a case for most of the students. No one really cared about the roaming monsters. It was the third Friday of the semester and the new year, which meant Club Fair on the campus. The same each year, hosted only for new students, with little entertainment. It was mandatory to attend and of course, it wasn’t held during lecture hours, but after them. No rest for the wicked, or so they say.
On the inside, something was stirring, but Dante must have been the only one who grasped the real reason. Ghosts were acting strange, but they themselves didn’t know why. Even the unresponsive ghosts had begun to break their patterns, some lifted their heads, others looked around as if disoriented. Dante was curious what made them do that and if that had something to do with the sudden appearance of monsters. When he asked Iza, she said that for her, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and when she asked around, no ghost even knew what she talked about.
The living students also felt the strange atmosphere, but they most likely tied it to the lack of movement from the Student Council. It was high time; they started to spread fear among commoners and all those they deemed unworthy of attending the academy. Everyone expected Kelit to be most likely their first target, but they were quiet. Which was the troublesome part.
As for the blond man, the week that passed was full of strange ‘accidents’. One student soaked his books with ink. Dante, who was sitting next to him, rolling his eyes at the cliche excuses, wanted to help him at least get the ink from his face, which also got dirty as the ink was splashed. His hand missed the kerchief in his breast pocket that had fallen on the floor, and so to cover his mistake in panic, he reached out for the revolver. In the end, he put it on the table in front of the half-ass bully. The guy nearly flew out of the classroom – that fast he was fleeing. Kelit, in exaggeration, looked at Dante like he was his own personal knight in shining armour.
Since that unfortunate incident, no one bothered Kelit. What only made Dante suffer more. That the guy was worse than a parasite. He followed him around, even to his diplomatic lectures. Madam Bernadette, on the other hand, was over the moon when a student attended her lecture of his own free will. The mocking and shameless flirt became something akin to routine. The blond man may have become better at it, but his attempts at jokes and puns were still completely miserable.
Peter still followed his room-mate, but whenever there was an opening, he could find any excuse to distance himself from their presence, as he was terrified of Dante, especially after that gun misunderstanding.
By the time the lectures ended, the sun had already dipped low, gilding the academy lawns in bronze. From the dormitories the smell of pastries and ink. The Club Fair had begun. It was held in front of the dormitories in a spacious garden with tightly trimmed grass and more places to hang out than greenery. Most of that space was now taken by small tents. Most of them were put out by the clubs themselves; some were putting on a show of what the club was about, others served tea and refreshments as a kind of bribery. One gave Kelit the entire bag of baked goods only to bribe him into walking away. Kelit took the implication to heart and left only after they gave up on another bag, which he offered to Dante. He was in a good mood, even though no club wanted to offer him a place. The only flyer he had was given to him by Professor Bernadette. Still, after he learnt that Dante isn’t going to attend her discussion club, he tossed it away.
Right now, Dante was trying to distance himself from all that bustling and colours literally flying around, because some of the clubs made small magic shows. Little fireworks like rainbows, flying flyers shaped like birds and illusions like flowers. Kelit snickered at them, supposedly avoiding everything that had to do with magic. Truth be told, as for someone who was in a magic major and had little mana, he looked mostly unimpressed.
“So, aren’t you going to join any?” The blond man asked, stuffing his face with sweets. “Or did you already work out those mandatory three months?”
“I didn’t, and there’s still time,” Dante sighed, looking at the crumbs that got stuck on the man’s cheek. It appeared that he had a genuine love for sweets and baked goods. “What about you?” He snatched his gaze away.
“Oh, Iceheart, do you only want to join one with me?” Dante didn’t even look at him, only shook his head at the ridiculousness of it. “Ouch, you’re giving me mixed signals.”
“I give you what now?” his tone was cold, a contrast to a chuckle that escaped Kelit.
“Well, I don’t need to join any. I’m just a transfer student,” He’d told Dante before, but never mentioned where he’d transferred. It couldn't be anywhere in the country, as he always looked at the Andar alphabet as if it was gonna swallow him whole or was just doodles on the side of a notebook.
“But I will join the same as you, when you decide on it.” He flashed Dante with a smile full of white teeth, knowing full well how annoying he looked doing it. That smile never quite fitted him.
“Anyone told you’re like a leech?”
“Oh!” Kelit looked like he had just gotten inspired, which made Dante sigh inwardly. “Did you just give me a nickname?!”
Dante cracked and looked at the man, trying to guess if his brain had just left the room.
“Do you truly want me to call you Leech?” Kelit nodded his head with a smile more genuine than before and a spark of dare in those strange lavender eyes.
“At least I am your leech,” he said, which made Dante confirm his suspicions; this man’s brain left their conversation.
“Alright, I guess. You got it, Leech.” A flicker of surprise crossed the blond man’s face. He must have never expected Dante to agree, or rather, do anything other than give a cold glare.
They fell into a moment of silence, broken only by Kelit devouring the sweets. Dante looked at him, eating definitely too sweet, white chocolate croissants, one after another. Where does all that even go? – he thought. He was sure that if he ate that much, he wouldn’t fit through the doors. He snatched his gaze away and looked around. Students were haggling over pastries, thankfully not at the same speed as the blond man. Ghosts flickered between tents like wisps of dust looking for entertainment. Iza was there somewhere, too. She claimed that she felt like playing pranks today, but he couldn’t see her anywhere near. Nearby, one first-year noble girl levitated teacups to show off in front of her friends.
Soldiers were around all the time. Most of them were quietly doing their jobs, making sure that everyone was safe and that no monster suddenly manifested in the middle of the fair. It was a possibility, even little magic tricks produced mana waste.
When Dante watched one of the war-mages getting dragged into a tent of Mana Research Club, which everyone called the Mad Scientists’ Club, Kelit broke the silence with a surprisingly normal question:
“Why aren’t you eating? I went through so much trouble to get another bag,” he exaggerated.
“You were the trouble,” Dante looked back at him. He had already eaten the entire bag. It was only right to deduce that he asked only because he wanted more. “I don’t like sweet things,” he said, passing him the bag full of cinnamon cookies.
Kelit took the bag, but didn’t say anything, just looked at Dante with curiosity, like he was wondering how it was possible to not like sugar.
“I think I’m going to ‘trouble’ that baking club for another bag of croissants,” he said with such a serious expression that Dante smiled and let out a quick kind of laugh. The moment he realised, he covered his face with a hand pretending he was going to sneeze. He wouldn’t do that if Kelit didn’t freeze with a cookie mid-eaten. This image contradicted the man so much that it was hard not to laugh. And it wasn’t even funny! It was just…surprisingly normal and real.
“What was that?”
“A sneeze,” Dante answered. The blond man let out a quiet ‘hm’ and got back to his snacks.
Not long after Dante composed himself, he realised that a certain ghost had sneaked up on them. His head turned instinctively toward the translucent girl who just poked his cheek, giggling. A teasing smile curved her lips, so Dante guessed what was to come. “What were you two talking about so deeply you didn’t even see me coming? Or is his face just that distracting?”
Kelit's gaze followed Dante’s, his brows knitting. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen the young lord act strangely.
“What are we looking at?” he asked. The words still carried that habitual teasing lilt, but beneath it ran a thin, cold edge. Curiosity mixed with something Dante couldn’t quite name. The blond man covered that coldness greatly; that young lord wasn’t even sure if he hadn’t imagined it.
Realising his mistake, he decided to answer with the thing that he could see through Iza, which was: “A wall.” He didn’t even blink, which made it even less convincing than it was already. And again Kelit didn’t look at Dante the way people look at people. More like a craftsman checking a strange piece of machinery, only curiosity, not warmth.
“Wow, you really do know how to flatter a woman,” Iza flicked his cheek again and clicked her tongue. Kelit, unable to hear her and see her, sized Dante up, who again looked at the fair in front of them.
He didn’t care if Kelit would call him mad…or maybe he did. He wasn’t sure anymore. He sighed; thankfully, the blond man had never yet asked the question, and it seemed that he didn’t intend to do so now. Iza drifted lazily into his line of sight, her half-transparent torso hovering at eye level as she talked.
“I was looking for you two everywhere. I never expected you to sit behind the Baking Club’s tent. But well…Goldy definitely loves it,” she snickered at all the crumbs scattered across the man’s lap. “Well, I’ve learned something. Sadly, there is nothing to be said about the strange situation. The Eavesdroppers are certain that the Student Council started something.” The Eavesdroppers were a nickname for the ghosts that were tied to East Hall, where all the important offices were. Iza had nicknames for all the groups of ghosts in the academy. Dante’s personal favourite was The Leftovers – ghosts from the training ground. She never bothered to remember all the names. “They said that it is supposed to be quiet; they don’t know the target yet, but will update me on it when they catch the wind,” she winked at him and looked around. “Where’s the Scaredy Cat? I wanted to play some pranks…”
She referred to Peter, whom she decided to haunt. She said that his terrified face looked just like one of her brothers.
“Where’s your room-mate?” Dante asked.
“Why? Am I alone not enough for you, Your Iceheartness?" He made a pose like a fool playing in front of an audience.
“Yes. You're not enough, you’re too much,” Dante deadpanned, and Kelit giggled. “He’s always following you around like a puppy.”
“True. He is part of that Green Club, so probably with them.” Kelit smiled brightly. “Now my turn for a question!”
“We are not playing twenty questions.”
“Oh, come on! You started it, Iceheart!” That was the moment when Dante gave up. “So…Do you know anything about the situation? That captain is pretty strong and she’s been around constantly, so I guess it’s bad.”
“Why do you think I’d know?” he answered with a question while Iza sat cross-legged on the ground. Dante could now see her shattered spinal bones pretty clearly. Forget being cut in half; that must have hurt. He forced himself to look away before his own bones would start to ache just from looking.
“Well, aren’t you a big fish?” Kelit gave him a mocking glance. “I wanted to ask before, but there was no time, and Peter’s a scaredy cat.” He and Iza would be best friends if only she were still alive.
“All I know is that the monsters are being taken care of before they could hurt anyone. Duke Florent is an ex-war-mage; he knows what he’s doing. But he said there’s not much information he can go on to resolve it.” Dante explained.
“But you're going to be updated on progress, right?” The young lord rolled his eyes, but nodded. “Great! Don’t forget about your favourite Leech,” he winked at him playfully.
“What did I miss? Leech?” she looked between them, trying to decipher what leeches have to do with Kelit.
Soon the fair ended, and students, who didn’t live in dormitories, went home. Kelit followed Dante to the carriage, and getting him out of it was a struggle. He claimed that to be a great Leech, he has to eat his dinner and sleep in his bed. By the time he finally kicked Kelit out, a dusty bootprint marked the blond man’s back, and the driver gave him a pitiful glance. The driver, as he knew Dante only from rumours, must have decided that Kelit was the victim here. Iza laughed the entire way home.
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Ron greeted him as usual, standing at the front porch, ready to serve. He was very disciplined as a former soldier. He left those duties at the age of twenty-four to train under his master. Dante wasn’t sure why he decided on that change. Soldiers had a chance to earn noble status, but butlers and handmaidens, even if treated like nobles – never did. They cannot even buy it.
“Welcome back, Young Master.” He took Dante’s bag with a much bigger smile than usual. Something good must’ve happened today. “Late dinner will be ready soon. Two letters came for you this morning. From Duke Florent and your grandparents on your mother's side.”
They walked inside straight to the living room, where Agnes’ ghostly figure was admiring the new greenery that Ron put in the vase. The scent of polished wood and maple oil greeted him, it was Ron’s way of making the house feel alive, despite the old floor that creaked under even the smallest weight. When the house ghost saw them, she beamed with such a motherly smile. “Oh, this is so exciting! Did Ron tell you the news yet?”
“So what’s the good news?” he took a seat on the sofa, and Ron, after putting Dante’s things neatly on a tea table, sat next to him. His smile made his moustache look a little uneven.
“You’re so perspicacious as always, Young Master,” he brushed the non-existent dust from his shoulder, slightly nervous. “As you know, I’m at the threshold of sixty, and I decided to take on a student.” Seeing that Dante smiled lightly at the information, he continued: “My student was recommended by my colleague Arnold, your father’s butler, who took the place after our Master, when he died. She’s the daughter of the head cook at the Crimson Estate and came here to learn at the academy. She wants to take my training and study at the same time. We decided that she will learn etiquette and language there, and I will train her in other aspects.”
“Does she know you're ex-military?” Dante had already pitied the girl.
“Not yet,” his smile somehow became even wider. Iza let out a laugh, and Agnes, as someone who in her days had undergone the same type of training, only chuckled. “She’s eighteen and currently living in the Academy’s dormitories. Our training starts tomorrow.”
He didn’t say the obvious, as etiquette demanded the master of the house to offer first. Dante sighed, and as much as it pained him, he did:
“She can take one of the rooms here. It will be more practical that way,” Ron must have expected him to say that as he reassured him:
“I have already prepared a room for her. Don’t worry about anything, Young Master, she won't disturb you.”
“I don’t worry. What’s her name?” Dante sighed. He really liked the privacy of him and Ron only, but taking a student for butlers was like a life goal. Ron was considerate enough that he decided solely on one person. His master trained four people simultaneously.
“Faye Corren.” The young lord nodded in acknowledgment. “I’ll bring you the letters now.”
As he excused himself, the waves of excitement still radiated from him.
“He looks younger like that,” Agnes smiled. “I wanted to say that I wonder how my students fare, but I realised that it was so long ago that I can ask them myself.” She laughed. Time always flowed differently for ghosts, or maybe they’ve forgotten to measure it.
After bringing the letters, Ron disappeared into the kitchen to finish dinner’s preparations. One envelope was green, adorned with a flower crest. He opened that one first, because ghosts nagged him to do so.
‘Dear Lord Dante Crimson,
I write this letter to inform you about the details of our research into the monster matter. I will be short. It happened once before, somewhere around eighty years ago. The situation was much the same, but it was discovered too late what was the cause of a few deaths. Not only townsfolk but also students. Surprisingly, the crisis passed by itself with time. We are guessing that it will be the same this time, too. As a precaution, I’m going to send more soldiers to the academy. Among the deaths, the death of a student was most disturbing.
Captain Alera will investigate further, and she will stay in the Academy for the time being. I advised her to tell You all the details if You are curious.
With regards,
Duke Claude Florent’
Dante, thankfully, wasn’t curious. So he decided to mostly ignore the letter, only until he realised that one Leech, he now owned for the dirty shirt with a footprint on, was. Of course, he had to wear white, and Dante felt bad for staining it. He will have Ron deliver a letter to Kelit when he goes to see Miss Faye tomorrow.
Iza didn’t peek through his shoulders, and if she wasn’t interested, while Agnes hummed, worried about his safety. “That’s quite the situation.” She voiced.
“Yeah...BORING!” Iza rolled her eyes, but something was off with the way she acted. “Read the one from my grandparents. Out-loud in common, after so much time in the academy, I still can’t understand Andar.”
“If you only listened when I tried to teach you,” he sighed. “I’ll summarise it to you.” She let out a sound similar to that of a hurt cat.
‘Our Blessed!’ – Dante frowned. His grandparents were the only ones who knew he could see ghosts; they caught onto that at their daughter's funeral. In Andar’s history, there were others with that gift, though unlike him, they possessed mana. People like that were called Blessed by all Andars. They kept it a secret as Dante asked, but that didn’t stop them from calling him that.
‘We wish that this letter had arrived before the Death Week. We want to remind you to participate as much as you can. Make an altar for your mother, visit a local cemetery (or don’t, it can be overwhelming for you), and of course, prepare a present for the living! We also reminded your brother and sister about it, and as we can excuse Rose for not participating as the only ones to teach her about our customs, are we and both you and Edward, the Duke can…’ – it was followed by a dozen texts that got completely covered in black ink. Dante chuckled, knowing that meant lots of slurs directed at his father. And Andar was generous with this type of words; they even had their own lexicon. The rest that was written was in a different style, more neat and polished.
‘This is how it ends, giving your grandpa a pen! I swear this old chap is getting on my nerves. We may not like the Duke, but you and your siblings are ours, remember that! We wish we could meet, but you all have your own lives. Tell us how you have been? With details, please, we know you, Dante! The letter will surely arrive someday. Why are your country’s postmen so slow?
Eternally yours, whether alive or after death
Grandparents Khari and Ishaan’ – Khari drew a little heart at the end, they have always been the gentler of the pair.
“So what do they want? We get only three letters yearly from them.” Iza curiously peeked at the paper in his hands. She still couldn't grasp the symbols.
“They wanted to remind me of Death Week and asked how I’m doing. And also grandpa Ishaan would love to see father…eating shit.” he deciphered one of his ink-covered sentences, which made Iza laugh again.
“Death Week is…next week! What timing that postman has!” realised Agnes. “I’ll help you make an altar!”
“Me too! This year I want to eat one of the orange sweets Ron hoards,” both ghostly women ignored his reaction, already floating to his room.
He shook his head. The Death Week was a week during which, in Andar’s beliefs, the barrier between words was blurred. Dante wasn’t sure if it was true, but during that time, ghosts were more active, and after being offered something on an altar, they could taste meals and drinks. Darvin always liked vodka, Agnes' honey bread, Veyra settled on apples, but only Iza changed her preferences each year. He even instructed Edward on what to leave for the family estate’s ghosts.
If the ghosts already act strangely, what will Death Week feel like? – Dante frowned at that thought. He would rather think of presents for the people than about that matter. He needed to give something to his Andar professor, as he always had something for him, as Dante was the only one he knew who celebrated the week. He would also make something for Ron and probably his student, so she wouldn't feel excluded, Kelit, and Peter. After he realised that he had included those two, it was too late for his pride.
Maybe he should give Kelit the dish the professor always made for him. The infamous Andar’s blood rolls. Dante loved that snack. It was made with pig’s blood, buckwheat, and spices. Dante would give it to him only to see his face. But he would have to make more than just one. Ron despised it, and the blood wasn’t easy to get. He should settle on cookies. Everyone likes those, maybe not him, but the rest should be happy, and Ron will help him with that. As custom dictated, it had to be made by one’s own hand, not bought.
It was yet another day when the weather was surprisingly nice, despite the autumn freeze. Dante woke up to a sound of crushing glass and horrible screams: “Get away from me, you vile monster!”
He groaned, noticing that Lady was not in the room with him. For a second, he considered ignoring the commotion and getting more sleep. But only for a second. He got up, and when his bare feet touched the ground, he shivered.
“So fucking cold…” Thankfully, ghosts taught him how to swear when he was five. While making his way downstairs, he grabbed a dressing gown.
In the living room, Veyra was still frantically screaming, while Lady was tearing at their robe. For some reasons, she always considered them her chew toy. The broken glass and greenery, the very same that Agnes was admiring yesterday, were scattered on the floor.
“Lady!” Dante called out to the Black Dog. The corrupted spirit stopped its actions and started wagging its tail, like it was happy to hear him. When Lady looked at him, she smiled with far too many sharp teeth and far too wide a grin to be a real dog. The young lord looked away from that horrifying sight.
“It bit me! Really bit me!” the ghost lamented dramatically.
“It in fact didn’t.” Darvin’s round face popped out of the wall. “You would be turning black if it did. You're still the same shade of ugly blue like all of us.”
“Don’t you even dare talk to me! You were the first to run!” they pointed a finger at where Darvin was still in the safe space of the wall. Dante decided to step in so the ghosts wouldn't argue all day.
“Both of you, please…” Veyra looked at him, still sniffling. “Darvin, be that nice and fetch me a broom. Lady upstairs, now!” The dog listened and was still completely oblivious to its wrongdoings, tail wagging as it ran up the stairs. Dante approached the trembling ghostly cook. “Are you okay?”
“No! I am in fact not okay!” they sniffled again. “When it ran down the stairs, we all thought you woke up, but it rushed straight at me! Iza tried to protect me and tossed the vase at it, but soon after, ran away like the rest! They all left me! What friends do that?!”
“I didn’t run you, idiot!” Iza suddenly stood next to Dante, looking a little disheveled. “That damn vase sucked me!”
“You must have used too much strength,” said the gardener ghosts, who had just returned with a broom and gave it to Dante. “Don’t be so dramatic, Vey.”
“Shut up you traitor! I’m going to start a petition to chase it out of the mansion!” That was the start of the argument. Dante only sighed, trying to blur their voices, while Iza enjoyed the ex lovers’ quarrel. He was already too awake for this, and it wasn’t even breakfast. Soon, both of them took offence and went their separate ways.
When he was nearly done with the glass, he heard the front door open. Two sounds of footsteps followed the quiet click. Ron, sensing that something was going on, walked into the room.
“Young master, what are you doing with a broom?” He looked at Dante up and down. He probably wondered if he should scold him or thank him for taking care of the mess.
“Lady broke the vase,” he answered, putting all the blame on the dog.
When Ron reached out for the tool, a girl with long blond hair, tied into a high ponytail, walked after him. She was short and wore simple pants with a shirt. Upon seeing Dante, she bowed so low that she nearly headbutted her knees. Dante blinked at her bow. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or pity her spine. The butler sighed deeply, reconsidering his own decisions.
“Good morning, Your Highness!” Iza cracked and started laughing while Dante’s mouth went agape at the loud greeting. Ron squeezed the broom handle tightly, just like his patience that wanted to run away.
“It’s Young Master, Miss Corren. Your Highness is used to address emperors and kings, as you know our country doesn’t have people like that. A person holding the Duke title is to be addressed as such or Master, for their children, it is Young Master or Lord, Lady.” He explained, and the girl’s face got redder than a tomato, as if worried that Dante might scold her, she bowed even deeper.
“I’m sorry, Young Master!” Ron looked at Dante, his expression unreadable. The excitement from yesterday is gone forever.
“Why are you screaming, girl?” He somehow still held his patience tightly and didn’t raise his voice. “What is that? Are you scared of the Young Master?” The answer never came, and she didn’t move. “I know the rumours paint him in a bad light…” When Ron’s disapproving gaze found Dante, he looked at the chandelier, avoiding it. “Forget them. You're now my student, which means Young Master aid.”
She raised her head, shyly looking at Dante. Although he didn’t smile, she relaxed a little. He wore a neutral expression and still wasn’t dressed up.
“Don’t worry about it…” he should have addressed her as “miss,” but somehow couldn't leave his mouth. They were in his own house, and she was his younger peer.
“The introductions I hoped for went a little astray. Young Master, please meet my student, Miss Faye Corren.” Ron said after clearing his throat.
“A little astray?! That girl called you Your Highness! I’m gonna start too!” Iza appeared to be the only one enthusiastic in the room. Dante nearly frowned at her newfound nickname.
“It’s a pleasure,” he controlled his face.
“No, no. The pleasure is mine, Lord Dante.” Ron sighed in relief that she no longer made any strange mistakes.
“I’m happy to inform you that I delivered the letter to Mr. Merrin. He was delighted to hear from you, Young Master.” The smile on the butler’s face became gentle, as he was quite happy that this unruly child had finally found a friend.
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Dante mumbled sarcastically, and Iza poked his cheek, while sending him mocking kisses. “Thank you, Ron. I should probably get dressed.” his butler nodded his head, definitely approving of this idea. “Tell me when you’re going to train with swords, and I’ll join.”
The morning light slipped through the windows, catching dust. The mansion, noisy with the living and the dead, felt fuller than it had in years.
