#aurix

With a silent gasp, Celeste threw herself into a forward roll, ducking under the sweep of a large, roughly hewn club. Behind her, the troll stumbled under the weight of its swing. Rising smoothly to her feet, Celeste spun with her own branch at the ready, only to leap backwards away from a second, surprisingly fast, strike.

Across the clearing, Riven dropped something (was that her coat?) and pulled out his sword. He was quick to slash at the trolls unprotected knees, aiming to knock it off balance. Celeste backed up further, now almost to the tree line. This troll was a lot bigger than anything she’d fought before. It was almost twice her height and just as angry, turning away from her to face the greater threat.

The greater threat that just got backhanded into a tree.

In the back of Celeste’s mind, she noticed that Riven, like her, was wearing casual clothes. He wasn’t wearing his armour. Something inside her chest became cold and tight, like a frozen knot. Like a firework just before the explosion. She sprang forward with a snarl that was almost audible. As the troll swung its club towards her head, that tight knot expanded and burst through her chest, down her arm and out of her free hand. For a moment, the club hovered in the air, even lifting slightly like gravity had reversed. With that split second of hesitation – that pivotal moment of a battle where everything changes – Celeste slipped down and under the troll’s uplifted arm, around to its blind side, and slid her branch between its knees. A twist. A pull. The force of the troll hitting the ground shook the earth.

The troll bellowed in rage, swinging its arms and gouging at the ground. Celeste leapt nimbly over its hand to land on its back – she was going to knock this thing out with extreme prejudice. The troll writhed and scratched at its back as she made her unsteady way up its spine. Thankfully the creature hadn’t thought to simply roll over and crush her, instead shredding its own skin. Celeste dodged one searching hand, almost stumbling into the other and having to throw herself into a wobbly back handspring, losing her branch in the process. There was a pinch on her calf, and when she glanced up after steadying herself, she saw Riven standing at the trolls’ head.

Face screwed up in a savage, victorious snarl, he hit the troll over the head hard enough to make it bounce off the ground with the recoil. The force shuddered through the trolls’ body, arms and legs spasming with a final, aborted effort to defend itself. Celeste slipped with the movement, sliding down the trolls’ side and stumbling a few steps away.

When Riven turned to her – to berate her, congratulate her, she didn’t know – Celeste felt fine. A little out of breath, a little shaky from the adrenaline, but she felt good.

It wasn’t until her teacher came closer, concern softening the lines of his face, asking, “You okay?” that Celeste felt any different.

Then she noticed the burning in her leg. The damp heat dripping into her shoe. The sudden weakness in her knee that made her stumble, almost sending her into the troll if Riven hadn’t caught her. As he held her upright, Celeste gazed down. The blood was barely discernible from the black denim around it, but the top of her shoe was turning red. Torn threads stuck to her skin, and she bit her lip to hold back the giggles at the ticklish sensation. She glanced over at the troll, seeing the long claws and remembering that pinch. Her blood stained one of the claws. I really need to keep an eye on my surroundings, she thought hazily. The world was moving. Black spots flickered at the edges of her vision.

As Celeste began to sway, Riven held her tighter about the shoulders, guiding her away and down. “I need you to breathe Celeste. Just breathe.”

She was breathing – wasn’t she? Celeste gasped in one ragged, shuddering breath and felt the haziness abate. Oh. She wasn’t. Another ragged breath followed, and another, and another, till the rhythm evened and slowed. Riven probed carefully at the rip in her jeans, tearing the fabric down to the hem to get a better look at the injury.

After a moment, he leaned back on his heels. “Well, you’re not too badly injured. It’s just a long scratch really, not a deep one. Won’t even need stitches. I just need to wrap it till we get back to the school…” As her teacher began rummaging through his pockets, looking for something to stop the bleeding and only coming up with a small fabric square, Celeste grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled.

RIIIIIIIIP!

Riven stared at her, at the square in his hand, and then the grey strip lying across hers. With a shrug, he began binding her leg. “That works, I guess.” The fabric square was folded over the majority of the injury while the t shirt strip held it in place. It took another two strips before he was satisfied. Celeste was glad that her shirt was a good three sizes too big for her in the first place – it now came to her hips, rather than halfway down her thighs.

“That will do till we get back to Red Fountain and I can clean it properly.” Riven punctuated his words with a clap as he stood. “Now, can you walk?”

With a helping hand, Celeste shakily stood. It wasn’t burning anymore, but the feeling still wasn’t pleasant. She took a couple of wobbly steps forward before nodding. Painful, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

“Alright.” Riven sighed. “Proper explanations can wait till you’ve got your tablet, but… what in the dark dimension were you thinking!”

Celeste flinched at the force of his shout, tangling her feet as she tried to step away. Her potentially painful contact with the ground was stopped by a supporting hand on her shoulder.

“Oh no, injured or not, you’re hearing this! You do not sneak out of school after curfew to go and fight monsters!” As he ranted, Riven began to lead her out of the clearing and towards the school. “Especially not Black Mud Swamp monsters! You’re going to get yourself killed!”

She saw her coat on the ground as they passed and tugged at her teacher to get him to stop. He followed her gaze to the fabric lump, picking it up with a scoff and slinging it around her shoulders. “And this! You’re not even in your uniform! If you were, you wouldn’t be limping right now! A pair of jeans and,” here, Riven sniffed in a way that reminded her of a Ventus noble, “and an old shirt aren’t going to do shit to protect you! At least you bought a coat, but you didn’t even wear that!”

Her hands pulled the coat closer. She didn’t want to wreck it! It was the nicest piece of clothing she owned, aside from her uniform. She slid her arms through the sleeves and pouted at the way the hems stopped halfway up her forearms. The shoulders were a little tight too, but she stretched and carried on. The coat still fit! If barely…

Riven continued to rant, questioning her upbringing, her common sense (or lack of it) and her sanity (also lacking). They had only walked – or in her case, limped – about thirty metres when Riven stopped. “We’re not going to get back to Red Fountain before sunrise at this rate,” He groaned.

Celeste grimaced. She didn’t want any of the other students to see her injured like this. Who knows what they’d do – or think.

Riven groaned again, facing the sky, before turning so that his back was to her. He crouched with loose hands half curled at his waist.

“Alright, get on before I change my mind.”

One blink. Two. What?

A pale purple eye appeared over one shoulder. “Climb on my back idiot. I’m gonna have to carry you back to my wind rider if we want to get out of this swamp any time soon. Why you had to go so deep into it in the first place…”

Carry… her? Celeste stared uncertainly at Riven’s back. She’d never been carried before. Her hands twitched and twisted in her coat. She took one step forward, before leaning back. What was she meant to do?

There was something wrong with Riven’s face when he sighed and spun around to face her, still kneeling. It didn’t look right – like he was sad, but also angry, and something that just made her heart feel heavy. “Look, I’m not going to do anything. You can trust me. I’m just going to carry you. I won’t even drop you!”

She nodded hastily. Of course she trusted him! She just didn’t know how to be carried. It was times like this that she really hated being mute. I trust you, she mouthed, I just don’t know how to be carried.

His eyebrows were scrunched when Riven replied, “That first part, you said you trusted me?” at Celeste’s nod, he continued, “But that second part… what do you mean? Don’t you want me to carry you?”

I… she started again, before huffing. They’d be going around in circles for hours if she didn’t find a better way to… wait. Celeste awkwardly lowered herself into a crouch. She was almost able to touch the ground when she overbalanced and fell hard onto her butt. Instinctively she tried to roll backwards with the movement, but her injured leg protested at the strain and she ended up on her back, legs twisted. She growled. By the ever loving… A sound made her look up.

Riven’s shoulders were shaking as he tried to stifle his chuckles. After a moment, he schooled his face into something resembling seriousness. “Please tell me you’ve got a reason for sitting down? Or were you just making a fool of yourself for shits and giggles?”

Celeste scowled at him. His lip twitched a little – he was still laughing at her! She pushed herself into a seated position and smoothed out the dirt beside her. VERY FUNNY, she wrote in large letters.

“I agree, you are very funny,” Riven said as he moved a little closer. “But back to the point – are you comfortable with me carrying you?”

I’M OKAY WITH IT, she wrote after wiping away her previous message, BUT I DON’T KNOW HOW TO BE CARRIED.

“You don’t…” There was something like confusion on Riven’s face, “Has no one ever given you a piggyback ride before?”

Celeste shook her head. Piggyback ride? What kind of carry was that?

“What kind of family…” He started to grumble as he got to his feet. “Alright, this will be easier if you’re standing.”

With Riven’s help, Celeste managed to stand without falling over again. Once she was steady, he took a step away and turned around before bending his knees a little

“Now, put your arms around my shoulders,” He explained, gesturing with his hands, “And you’re going to have to lift your leg – your injured one – up to my hip.”

Hesitantly, Celeste limped closer. Her arms shook as she wrapped them around Riven’s shoulders, having to stretch a little to reach – he was a good head and shoulders taller than her. His hands were warm as he guided her to a more secure hold. When she lifted her hurt leg, he grabbed her knee and held it against his side. This left her in an awkward half up, half down position that made her supporting leg hurt.

“Alright, now you’re going to have to jump up a little and put your other leg around my waist – I’ll catch it, don’t worry.” Riven crouched down a little more, and Celeste’s fingers dug into his shoulders as she hopped. The second her supporting leg left the ground, her heart felt like it was trying to climb up into her throat. There was a feeling of both weightlessness and the sickening pressure of gravity in that moment before Riven caught her knee, guiding it up and over his hip.

“There we go.”

Celeste scrambled for a more secure hold as she started going backwards. Riven’s fingers dug into her knees as he leaned forward.

“Calm down!” He snapped over his shoulder. “I’ve got you, you’re just gonna need to lean with me.”

She was pressed against Riven’s back from chest to hip, knees clamped tightly at his waist. Her head was starting to go fuzzy again – she felt shaky, and her skin was burning. It was like when she got into a hot shower after being outside for ages, the heat stinging her skin. She had never been this close to someone ever. Certainly she’s never been carried. The fact that she wasn’t touching the ground, wasn’t supporting herself, was terrifying.

“Oi, you okay back there?” Riven threw a glance back at her. “I’m gonna have to shuffle you a bit – just hold on.” When he let go of her leg with his left hand, Celeste stiffened and held tighter to his shoulders.

Riven winced. “Look, you don’t need to hold on that tight. You’re so light I could probably pick you up with one hand. Just… relax, alright?” She nodded against his shoulder. Riven grabbed her leg again, this time in the crook of his elbow, before moving his other arm to match. With prompting, Celeste slid her arms further around Riven’s shoulders. Her fingers clasped tightly just before his collarbone, and her head was tucked into the gap between his back and her elbow.

The hold didn’t seem so scary now – she almost felt safe. The realisation made her limp.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Riven set a fast pace towards his wind rider, and Celeste could only hang on for the ride. She recognised the hold now – she saw it once at a Ventus Open Day, when the student’s families would come and watch them fight in the big arena. Her favourite part of the day was watching them all have lunch in the courtyard afterwards, with lots of little kids running around everywhere. It was the only time she ever saw someone under the age of 13. She could remember one of the students – he had the most yellow-blonde hair she’d ever seen and was the best archer in his class – carrying around a little boy the same way. Carrying him piggyback. The little boy had been smiling and laughing and kicking his legs like he was riding a dragon and trying to make it go faster. It had confused her at the time, because none of the students had carried their friends like that. They would carry each other over one shoulder, or both shoulders, during some of the training exercises. One time, a black-haired boy had carried his friend in his arms, one under his knees and one before his head, back to the dorms after he’d fallen asleep in the library. She’d always wanted to be carried like that.

She could almost remember something similar to Riven’s hold. It was like the sensation of being carried, not like how Riven was carrying her, but like how that boy had carried his friend. It was the warmth of her blanket nest in the East tower, and the whisper of a soothing voice, the half-remembered pressure of a cold hand in hers, the phantom itch of fingers being guided across a page. They always seemed more like wishful dreaming than anything rooted in reality. Tears sprung to her eyes at the thought. I always did want someone to hold me. Celeste pressed her face harder against Riven’s shoulder. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t.

“Don’t go falling asleep back there,” Riven said as the wind rider came into view. “We still need to get back to Red Fountain, and then I need to look at your leg. You can sleep after.”

Celeste had almost forgotten about her leg – it wasn’t really hurting anymore, just a dull throbbing in time with Riven’s steps.

Riven carefully set her down on the seat, grabbing a helmet from a compartment on the back. It was the same magenta shade as his hair, with cream accents. “Put that on.” The helmet was weird, she decided. It made her head feel heavy as she twisted it back and forth.

“You haven’t been on a wind rider before, have you?” When Celeste shook her head, Riven continued, “I’ll ask Codatorta about arranging lessons for you then. For now, you don’t have to do anything. Just hold on and try not to move around too much.”

He climbed on in front of her and guided her hands around his waist. Just as they were about to lift off, she reached up and tapped his shoulder.

“What?” Riven glanced over his shoulder. “Worried?”

You’re not wearing a helmet! Celeste tapped at her borrowed helmet before pointing at him.

Riven huffed and turned back around. “I’ve only got the one helmet. It’s fine. Besides, Saladin would have my head if he saw me wearing a helmet and you not.”

Before Celeste could protest further – Riven’s safety was important too – he sent them rocketing up into the air. Her mouth opened in a soundless screech as the ground seemed to disappear beneath them. She could hear Riven’s laughter over the rushing wind. He threw them into a couple of flips that made her smile beneath the helmet, and a barrel roll that made her dig her nails into Riven’s stomach in revenge.

They got to Red Fountain way too quickly. Riven landed in the docking bay with barely a bump. Once he’d climbed off, Celeste handed back the helmet. Her head suddenly felt so much lighter. The piggyback ride that followed felt a lot less awkward now that she knew what she was doing.

“If you’d been going out to the swamp for your late night training sessions,” Riven said as they headed down the corridor, “How do you get back up here? For that matter, how do you get down?”

It was times like this Celeste was glad she was mute. It really helped when she didn’t want to answer questions she wasn’t sure of the answer to.

They were almost home free. All they needed to do was go up five floors, and they’d be at her dorm. The elevator doors were in sight. Riven pressed the button to call them down. The doors opened. Professor Codatorta glared at them.  

“Codatorta! I didn’t think you covered any of the night watches anymore?” Riven’s shoulders were tense under her hold.

“I do when the students on watch call me up about a possible security breach in an air vent,” He says as he jerks his head. “Git inside.”

Riven stood in the corner furthest from the professor, who was watching them with a strange look on his face. He almost looked… amused? The button for her floor was pressed.

“’Parrently there was some kinda issue with one of the external security cameras. One kid was swearin’ up an’ down that they saw someone jump off the side, but none o’the other cameras saw anythin’. Wouldn’t happen to know anythin’ about that, would ya? Where ‘ave you two been anyway?”

If it was possible, Riven’s shoulders tensed further. Her knees began to protest as his arms clamped down on them like vices. They had gone up two floors. “I took Celeste off campus for a combined tracking and mock search and rescue training session, given that all of Celeste’s practical classes are now my responsibility. It went overtime, so I thought that I might as well give her some experience with nigh navigation too.”

A sceptical eyebrow went up. “Trackin’, huh? What, did ya take ‘er through Black Mud Swamp on ya way?” He looked them both up and down. “In ya civvies?”

Another floor.

“Yeah, I did. Celeste’s more than capable of handling anything the swamp can throw at her.” There was something smug in Riven’s voice now. If she could see his face, he’d probably be smirking. “And before you object, Headmaster Saladin said that I could train Celeste however I see fit.”

Codatorta huffed out a laugh. “You’re not wrong there laddie. Girl’s got some bite to ‘er when she’s riled.” He nodded towards her leg, where red had begun bleeding through the makeshift bandage. “Best get that looked to.”

Riven’s arms relaxed on her knees. “I will.”

One more floor.

“An’ your civvies?”

A shrug. “The cape, the bright blue and white – the uniform isn’t exactly designed for subtlety, Codatorta.” Celeste ducked her head against Riven’s shoulder to stifle her slightly hysterical laughter. I mean, he’s not wrong, but…

“Uh huh.” Codatorta didn’t look convinced, but he let it go.

The elevator dinged as it came to a stop. The doors started to open.

“Celeste? Next time take a wind rider or somethin’ down. Don’t need ya scarin’ anymore students, or hell, inspirin’ them. Magic knows they get inta enough scrapes without jumpin’ off the school.” There was something knowing in Codatorta’s gaze as Riven walked past him, and Celeste blushed.

“Oh, don’t worry about sending those sophmore’s out to the swamp,” Riven tossed over his shoulder. “Celeste’s dealt with that ghoul problem for you.”

“That’s good. I saw that all your theory work for this week was marked as complete, so I decided that we would have a full-day training and conditioning session. If you keep finishing your work so quickly, I’ll make this into a weekly thing.” His smile wasn’t nice. It was evil.

Celeste nodded again.

“We’re going to start with a nice jog as a warm up.” Professor Riven headed to the door. “It’ll be easy – you just need to keep up with me.” And the man was off, running down the hall towards the stairs at a steady lope.

He’s going to kill me, Celeste thought as she scrambled to catch up with her teacher and his much longer legs. He’s going to make me run to my death for disappointing him yesterday!

She wasn’t completely wrong. The ‘warm up’ jog eventually led to the larger Red Fountain student gym, where Celeste was put through a gruelling exercise circuit that seemed designed specifically to cause every single muscle in her body to ache. A two minute break between each station was all she was allowed – enough time for her to get her breath back, and have a sip of water, but not much else. A cool down run and stretch proceeded lunch, which she was mortified to actually share with her teacher.

Professor Riven followed her into the dining hall, grumbling about the food standard at Red Fountain. According to him, the food was good for nutrients and calories, but tasted like cardboard compared to the food found elsewhere. All the other students stared as he dropped down in the seat across from her. The round tables allowed for up to six seats, and there were just enough seats for every student. For first time, Celeste saw empty tables in a ring around hers– students either doubling up at other tables, or walking in, seeing Professor Riven eating with a red-faced student, and immediately walking out. Said professor forced a second sandwich and extra apple down her throat, complaining all the while about fairies and their tendency to go on extreme diets.

With a steely look in his eye, he said to her, “If I ever find out about you skipping out on meals or eating less for the sake of being skinny or having a nice body, I will let seniors use you for target practise. And seniors don’t miss.”

Just then, Helia walked past to say hello. “It’s nice to see you spending time with others, Riven. And I don’t believe I’ve seen any crying students yet.”

He’d just grumbled in response. “I haven’t made anyone faint in almost 24 hours either.”

“A new record,” Helia said sombrely. He snuck Celeste a wink when Professor Riven started growling, and she had to hide her smile behind her apple.

After lunch, they returned to the training room where Celeste was forced to contort her body into various uncomfortable positions. She had been familiar with some of them, having snuck through the old connection tunnels to spy on classes in the Aurais girl’s school on the other side of the mountain, but many were new and painful.

Professor Riven was unapologetic even as he stretched beside her (she was smug over the fact that she could go down into the splits and he couldn’t). “You need to be flexible in both body and strategy if you want to be winning any of your sparring matches. As a girl, your greatest advantage will be your flexibility and speed. Don’t try to match your opponents blow for blow – you’re not built to take those kinds of hits. Avoid them.”

The thing that made Celeste hate her teacher just a little less was the fact that he worked alongside her. He didn’t just watch – he matched her step for step, stretch for stretch, station for station. It was as much for his benefit as for hers. And when he set up a new training dummy, he went first.

“This is a new invention of Timmy’s, designed for your kind of fighting style,” Professor Riven slapped a hand on the skinny, tree-like machine that was almost as tall as he was. “The aim is to hit the buttons on the body without getting hit by the arms. Speed and evasion. Watch closely.”

On the first setting, the various arms didn’t move very fast. They were rigid in their positions, spinning around the main body at a low speed. The buttons were easy enough to find, lighting up as the exercise started and disappearing once hit. After successfully hitting all twenty buttons without injury, Professor Riven moved aside to let her have a go.

Celeste didn’t come through quite as unscathed. One hit caught her across the stomach, and she coughed even as Professor Riven explained to her where she went wrong and how to place her feet better.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you ready to go again?”

She nodded. The pain was already fading.

“Okay. Watch me again. This is the second level.” Again, the lights came on, and again Professor Riven hit all twenty buttons without injury. The machine moved just a little bit faster this time, and the lower most arms were able to bend from their static position in swiping movements. When Celeste had her turn, one caught her hard enough at the ankle to make her stumble into another arm. The subsequent collision with the ground rammed the breath from her lungs.

Once she caught her breath, a hand appeared in her face. Professor Riven looked down at her with something like concern in his face. “Alright?”

She glared at the machine and nodded even as she was pulled to her feet. She was bested by a machine.

Professor Riven laughed. “Want to go again? Keep an eye on those lower arms – and keep moving. A sitting duck is a dead duck.”

When the arms went for her ankles again, Celeste was ready – jumping onto the arm as she pulled one leg back into a punishing kick on the last remaining light. The metal bent in a little at the force.

“Well,” her teacher said dryly, “Looks like you’ve beat that level. Want to try the next?”

Celeste’s earlier exhaustion was forgotten as she and Professor Riven took turns beating each level of the machine. It wasn’t until the sixth level that things went wrong.

All the arms were moving now, rotating in their sockets and shifting up and down. Celeste was moments away from hitting the last light when something flashed off glass in the corner of her eye – the sun had moved into the window. That split second of inattention cost her, and a metal arm caught her sharply across the shoulder. She gasped at the sudden pain, moving away from the machine’s reach to rub the feeling back into it.

With a curse, Professor Riven sprang forward and shut down the program. Sharp eyes turned to her, catching the way her hand shook over the ball of her shoulder. “What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

She waved a dismissive hand – notably, not the hand connected to the hit shoulder – even as blood drained from her face. She was fine.

When Professor Riven crossed his arms, Celeste knew he wasn’t buying it. “Did the Evader hit you too hard?”

Celeste shook her head rapidly, lifting both hands with a wince before dropping them. How was she going to explain this? Without getting into trouble?

“I didn’t see you get hit in the shoulder yesterday, so what happened?” When Celeste instinctively denied it, Professor Riven stared her down. “I know you’re injured – your face gives you away every time. How bad is it? Do you need to see one of the nurses?”

At that, Celeste shuddered and took a step back. Don’t send me to the nurses! They were scary. When Professor Saladin brought her to Red Fountain, they wouldn’t let her out of the infirmary for a whole two days, stabbing her with needles and sighing over her weight and berating the cowed looking Headmaster about her vitamin intake, whatever that meant. If Professor Riven made her go back…

He sighed. “Look, we didn’t get off on the right foot. I wasn’t told anything until right before I met you so I was frustrated, I’m pretty sure you weren’t told anything so you were confused, and everything about this,” here he waved a hand between them, “Isn’t exactly Red Fountain regelation. You’re the first female student at the school, and you’re the first to essentially be given an apprenticeship. You’re my apprentice, which means that I’m responsible for your wellbeing, and that means I need to know if you’re injured. Continuing to train on an injury will only make it worse. I don’t want to hurt you.” Saying all this caused the man to become tense – he couldn’t look her directly in the eye, instead glancing either at her shoulder or just over it. “So just tell me, please, how did you injure yourself and how bad is it?”

Even as she grabbed her tablet, Celeste couldn’t figure out how to explain it. To be honest with herself, she had no idea how bad her injury was. Medical stuff hadn’t exactly been on her reading list – the first and last time she’d looked at a book on medicine, she had been ten and put off by the large words and specific language. But Professor Riven was… he looked worried. Like the Headmaster did, the first time she snuck out of the castle. And he was nice to her. He said please.

So she typed out an answer. I was doing some extra training outside last night and landed on it wrong. I’m not sure how bad it is though, but I don’t think it’s very bad. Just sore.

Professor Riven read it with a blank look before glancing up. “Are you able to let me have a look at it? Or would you prefer to get it checked by a nurse? I need to know the extent of the damage before we keep training.”

With a shrug, Celeste pulled down the zipper on her uniform. She’d been provided with a reinforced sleeveless undershirt – a crop top, she was told – when she got her uniform to support and protect her chest, so it wasn’t like anyone would be seeing anything they shouldn’t. She carefully peeled her left arm out of the clingy suit and turned her back to her teacher.

She heard him inhale sharply as he took in the damage. Ugly purple and blue bruising formed a mottled pattern over the ball of her shoulder and down her back, fading into lighter blues at the edges. Warm fingers put firm pressure at the light points and Celeste hissed. That hurt! They moved immediately as Professor Riven circled around to look her in the eyes.

“How did this happen Celeste? Because that kind of bruising doesn’t just come from a training accident.”

She stiffened. It was a training accident, she wrote again, but I fell out of a tree. See, that was kinda the truth. She didn’t need to explain the exact circumstances of how she fell out of the tree…

“Celeste…” To her surprise, the teacher led her over to the benches built into the wall and sat, making sure to keep a fair amount of space between them. “Celeste, are you being bullied?”

Her face said it all. What?

“I’ve fallen from plenty of trees Celeste, I’ve watched my squad mates fall from trees, and none of them resulted in bruises like that. Not unless we were pushed.” His face was almost soft as he continued, “I heard some of the things the other students were saying yesterday. Did one of them try something? Was it one of the seniors?”

She shook her head even as she wrote a reply. No, it had nothing to do with any other student. I was careless and stupid and not paying enough attention to my surroundings.

“You don’t need to protect them.” Professor Riven was getting angry now. There was something different about it though – it wasn’t his normal, disdainful kind of snarl. “If someone is hurting you, you need to tell me so I can make them stop.”

There was no one it was my fault Celeste typed quickly. Can we get back to training?

“Are you going to have another one of these late night ‘training sessions’?” He asked, making weird movements with his fingers.

I’ll wait until my shoulder is healed, she wrote distractedly, but I want to keep doing them. What was that thing you did with your fingers?

He blinked. “What?”

Celeste copied him – hands in fists on either side of her face, first two fingers up, before mouthing the words ‘training sessions’ while bending her fingers up and down.

“Oh, that. Those are called quotation marks, and I did them because I don’t believe you.” He didn’t seem to care anymore, walking away to grab a small tub out of his bag. “But I have no proof that it wasn’t a training session, and you don’t trust me enough to tell me the truth, so we’ll be leaving it at that for today. Go put some of this on your bruise. We’re done here.”

When she didn’t move to take the tub, he scowled. “Are you going to take it?”

Thank you Professor Riven, she wrote after a moment. Do we have another training session tomorrow?

The man scowled harder as he shoved the tablet back into her hand, “Don’t call me Professor – it makes me sound old. Just call me Riven. And yes, we still have training. Don’t be late.”

Professor – Riven walked out of the room without looking back, leaving Celeste standing dumbfounded with a tub of bruise paste in one hand and a tablet in the other. What… what was that?

***************

Riven was still scowling hours later, storming down the outdoor corridors on his way to his quarters. Thankfully there were no students around, otherwise he would have broken his now 36 hour no-fainting streak. He had fled to Magix and a bar he knew that only asked one question – what are you drinking? – after he gave the girl the bruise paste. There, he spent a couple of hours trying to drown his sorrows. Or more accurately, trying to drown that heaviness in his chest that showed up when he realised just how little his student trusted him.

He didn’t know why it affected him so much. He barely knew the girl! He had been training her for less than two weeks. In that time, she had said very little to him – their interaction earlier was the most he’d ever heard from her. He had read the reports given by the other teachers (participates very little, but seems to be listening intently), glanced over her results from this test or that essay (which were surprisingly high), developed training sessions based on how she responded to different fighting styles (she needed a weapon that would both increase her reach and not impact her speed or manoeuvrability, perhaps a dual weapon), but he hadn’t tried to get to know her beyond that. He didn’t know what her favourite food was. He didn’t know if purple was her favourite colour, even though it was the colour of her cape pin. He didn’t even know why she refused to speak!

It’s not surprising that Celeste didn’t trust him enough to tell him what was really going on. But it still hurt.

There had been a fleeting though this morning that they were actually getting somewhere. The warm up jog may have started as a somewhat cruel punishment for her failure in the ring, the girl lagging behind due to her much shorter legs, but by the end they were racing each other to the gym. Then there was the workout circuit, and then lunch, and then playing with Timmy’s new machine… It was like training with the squad again. It was like being back at school, when he had his squad and Musa and the other Winx and that sense of everything being right in the world, even when things were actively trying to kill them.

Oh magic, Musa… That was a whole other issue there. He missed her so much, and regretted the way he left things between them, but… His stupid pride stopped him from reaching out. What could he even say to her anyway? Hey, I’m sorry for being a douche, take me back?

Riven scoffed as he rounded the building. Neither of the women in his life trusted him it seemed. Musa had every reason not to, given the amount of times he’d been brainwashed and turned against her. And Celeste, well… none of the students trusted him as a teacher. Why should she?

A sound pulled him out of his increasingly maudlin (and not exactly sober) musings, drawing his attention upwards. He was near the senior dorms – they sat on top of the library wing, consisting of two floors, each with three squad rooms, a common room, a study space and a small training area. There were only two senior squads this year, so they’d split themselves up. The noise was coming from the topmost floor, where a window had opened, and a person was climbing out.

Riven opened his mouth to call out – to berate them, tell them to grease the hinges if they didn’t want to be caught, to indulge in his seniority as a student started babbling in fear of the hated professor, he didn’t know – but then the clouds shifted letting through enough moonlight to shine off long pitch black hair, pale skin glowing as Celeste fairly floated down the wall.

Anything he was going to say dried up at that point. Celeste was sneaking out of her dorm room. Words flashed through his mind – late night training sessions. This was his chance to find out what was really going on (a chance to find out who was hurting his student).

Silently Riven followed the girl through the school, frowning as she went further inside the campus rather than towards one of the open areas or training rooms. She was good at avoiding the cameras, which made Riven feel something akin to pride at his obviously skilled student, sneaking through their blind spots via shadows and spaces Riven didn’t even know existed. She stopped at the hanger bay and his mouth dropped. She was leaving the school?!

Oh shit, he hadn’t taught her how to drive yet! Did she know how to pilot a plane? Or a wind rider?

Thankfully, for Riven’s sake, Celeste didn’t jump into one of the various aircraft sitting around. Instead, she made her way to the exhaust vents that cycled fresh air from outside into the hanger. With the ease of someone who’d done it a dozen times before, Celeste tugged the cover off the vent and slipped inside.

With a curse, Riven sprinted over to his wind rider. There was no way he was going through the exhaust vents, even if he could fit, and this way he’d have an easier time following her to wherever she was going. It still took a good five minutes after leaving Red Fountain to spot her – somehow Celeste had already gotten out of the vents and onto solid ground, steadily making her way into the surrounding woods.

Riven followed her for a good half hour, occasionally ducking into and behind the tree line as the girl periodically looked to the stars. Celeste is achieving high marks in Navigation, he remembered one of the reports saying, her comprehension and application of star charts far exceeds the expected knowledge base of a freshman. It didn’t take him long to realise they were headed to Black Mud Swamp, and something dropped in his stomach. Who was she meeting out here? Witches? The thought made him shiver. Witches weren’t something freshmen should mess with – especially not his student. In his distraction, Riven didn’t realise he’d lost sight of her till it was too late – Celeste had disappeared into the depths of the swamp, and the trees were becoming too tight packed to continue on the wind rider.

On foot, Riven was able to follow Celeste’s trail. She wasn’t making any attempts to hide it, so she wasn’t expecting to be followed. At one point, the trail led to the base of a tree before stopping – looking up, he could barely see a dark lump slung over a branch. After climbing the tree (with much cursing) he found a deep blue coat. It was obviously well cared for, as despite the fading fabric, the hems were still in good condition. Had she put this here for safekeeping? What is she doing?

Thinking back to when he first saw her climbing out the window, he paled. Celeste wasn’t wearing her uniform. The shadows and distance had hidden a lot from him – enough that a deep blue coat looked similar to a bright blue cape – but he could distinctly remember seeing a lot of black rather than cream. She’d hidden easily enough in the shadows after all.

Then he heard the high-pitched screeching.

OH SHIT.

Riven sprinted through the swamp, uncaring of the noise he was making. His student was alone in Black Mud Swamp, without armour or even a proper weapon, at the mercy of the ghoul infestation Codatorta was planning on making the sophomore students clear out for detention.

When he burst into the clearing, Riven was expecting an injured student, maybe some blood. Definitely something akin to a damsel-in-distress situation, like Musa – the Winx had found themselves in over the years.

He wasn’t expecting… this.

Celeste looked like she was having the time of her life.

Riven had never seen the girl smile so widely… or with so much glee. Her weapon may have only been a tree branch, stripped clean of smaller off shoots and leaves, but she was wielding it like her bokken. She was darting around the clearing, swinging at the malformed creatures like she was going for a home run. Even as he watched, she kicked one ghoul into the air before sending it flying. Another tried to run up her leg before she flung it into a small knot of already downed opponents. He could only stare, open mouthed, as Celeste completely decimated the twenty-odd ghouls. Where was this confidence in the arena?!

For the moment, Riven was content to just watch, blue coat balled up in his arms. He’d give her the dressing down of a lifetime when she was done.