Arc 1
1. Good Morning Brother
Zorian’s eyes abruptly shot open as a sharp pain erupted from his stomach. His whole body convulsed, buckling against the object that fell on him, and suddenly he was wide awake, not a trace of drowsiness in his mind.
"Good morning, brother!" an annoyingly cheerful voice sounded right on top of him. "Morning, morning, MORNING!"
Zorian glared at his little sister, but she just smiled back at him cheekily, still sprawled across his stomach. She was humming to herself in obvious satisfaction, kicking her feet playfully in the air as she studied the giant world map Zorian had tacked to the wall next to his bed. Or rather, pretended to study – Zorian could see her watching him intently out of the corner of her eyes for a reaction.
This was what he got for not arcane locking the door and setting up a basic alarm perimeter around his bed.
"Get off," he told her in the calmest voice he could muster.
"Mom said to wake you up," she said matter-of-factly, not budging from her spot.
"Not like this, she didn’t," Zorian grumbled, swallowing his irritation and patiently waiting till she dropped her guard. Predictably, Kirielle grew visibly agitated after only a few moments of this pretend disinterest. Just before she could blow up, Zorian quickly grasped her legs and chest and flipped her over the edge of the bed. She fell to the floor with a thud and an indignant yelp, and Zorian quickly jumped to his feet to better respond to any violence she might decide to retaliate with. He glanced down on her and sniffed disdainfully. "I’ll be sure to remember this the next time I’m asked to wake you up."
"Fat chance of that," she retorted defiantly. "You always sleep longer than I do."
Zorian simply sighed in defeat. Damn the little imp, but she was right about that.
"So…" she began excitedly, jumping to her feet, "are you excited?"
Zorian watched her for a moment as she bounced around his room like a monkey on caffeine. Sometimes he wished he had some of that boundless energy of hers. But only some.
"About what?" Zorian asked innocently, feigning ignorance. He knew what she meant, of course, but constantly asking obvious questions was the fastest way of frustrating his little sister into dropping a conversation he’d rather not have.
"Going back to academy!" she whined, clearly aware of what he was doing. He needed to learn some new tricks. "Learning magic. Can you show me some magic?"
Zorian let out a long-suffering sigh. Kirielle had always treated him as something of a playmate of hers, despite him doing his best not to encourage her, but usually she remained within certain unspoken boundaries. She was downright impossible this year, though, and Mother was wholly unsympathetic to his pleas to rein her in. All he did was read all day long, she said, so it wasn’t as if he was doing anything important … Thankfully the summer break was over and he could finally get away from them all.
"Kiri, I have to pack. Why don’t you go pester Fortov for a change?"
She scowled at him unhappily for a second and then perked up, as if remembering something, and quickly ran out of the room. Zorian’s eyes widened when he realized what she was up to a second too late.
"No!" he yelled as he ran after her, only to have the bathroom door slammed into his face. He pounded on the door in frustration. "Damn it, Kiri! You had all the time in the world to go to the bathroom before I woke up!"
"Sucks to be you," was her only answer.
After hurling a few choice curses at the door, Zorian stomped off back to his room to get dressed. She would be inside for ages, he was sure, if only to spite him.
Quickly changing out of his pajamas and putting on his glasses, Zorian took a moment to look around his room. He was pleased to note Kirielle hadn’t rummaged through his stuff before waking him up. She had a very fuzzy notion of (other people’s) privacy.
It didn’t take Zorian long to pack – he had never really unpacked, to be honest, and would have gone back to Cyoria a week ago if he thought Mother would have allowed it. He was just packing his school supplies when he realized with irritation that some of his textbooks were missing. He could try a locator spell, but he was pretty sure he knew where they had ended up – Kirielle had a habit of taking them to her room, no matter how many times Zorian told her to keep her sticky little fingers away from them. Working on a hunch, he double-checked his writing supplies and, sure enough, found they had been greatly depleted.
It always happened – every time he came home, Kirielle would raid his school supplies. Putting aside the ethical problems inherent in breaking into your brother’s room in order to steal his things, what on earth was she doing with all those pencils and erasers? This time he specifically bought extras with his sister in mind, but it still wasn’t enough - he couldn’t find a single eraser in his drawer, and he bought a whole packet of them before coming home. Why Kirielle couldn’t simply ask Mother to buy her some books and pens of her own was never really clear to Zorian. She was the youngest, and the only daughter, so Mother was always happy to spoil her - the dolls she talked Mother into buying her were five times more expensive than a couple of books and a stack of pencils.
In any case, while Zorian had no delusions about ever seeing his writing supplies again, he really needed those textbooks. With that in mind, he marched off to his sister’s room, ignoring the Keep out! warning on the door, and quickly found his missing books in their usual location – cunningly hidden under the bed, behind several conveniently placed stuffed animals.
His packing done, he went downstairs to eat something and see what Mother wanted from him.
Though his family thought he simply liked to sleep in, Zorian actually had a reason for being a late riser. It meant he could eat his food in peace, as everyone else had already had their breakfast by then. Few things annoyed him more than someone trying to strike up a conversation while he was eating, and that was precisely the time when the rest of his family was most talkative. Unfortunately, Mother wasn’t willing to wait for him today, and immediately descended upon him when she saw him coming down. He didn’t even finish his descent down the stairs and she had already found something about him she didn’t like.
"You don’t really intend to go out looking like that, do you?" she asked.
"What’s wrong with this?" asked Zorian. He was wearing a plain brown outfit, little different from the ones other boys wore when they were going into the city. It seemed just fine to him.
"You can’t go out looking like that," his mother said with a long-suffering sigh. "What do you think people will say when they see you wearing that?"
"Nothing?" Zorian tried.
"Zorian, don’t be so difficult," she snapped at him. "Our family is one of the pillars of this town. We’re under scrutiny every time we leave the house. I know you don’t care about such things, but appearances are important to a lot of people. You need to realize you’re not an island, and you can’t decide things as if you were alone in the world. You are a member of this family, and your actions inevitably reflect on our reputation. I will not let you embarrass me by looking like a common factory worker. Go back to your room and put on some proper attire."
Zorian restrained himself from rolling his eyes just long enough to turn his back on her. Maybe her guilt trip would have been more effective if this was the first time she tried it on him. Still, it wasn’t worth the argument, so he changed into a pricier set of clothes. It was totally excessive, considering he’d be spending the whole day in the train, but his mother nodded approvingly when she saw him coming down the stairs. She had him turn and pose like a show animal for a while before pronouncing him fairly decent. He went to the kitchen and, to his annoyance, Mother followed after him. No eating in peace today, it seemed.