any real damage.
“Okay, almost burning down the apartment,” Victory said. “No, what concerns me more is that little stunt at the restaurant.”
“It was a bit of a drastic measure, Toria,” Mikelos said.
Toria jumped to her own defense. “It’s not my fault the lady was a jerk to me. And I had no idea she would call the cops the second I walked into the place.”
“Ooh, scary mage alert!” Kane’s quip caused a ripple of laughter, breaking the tension around the table.
Her mother matched her smile. “You’re right, love. The police involvement was not necessarily your fault. But it might have been something you’d suspect.”
“But nothing bad happened,” Toria said. “I wasn’t arrested. Nothing went on any sort of record. And by her actions, Emily Fabbri proved in front of everyone in her restaurant that she is prejudiced to the point of extremism.”
“And the question we must now ask is exactly how far she will take that prejudice,” Victory said.
“When’s your next council meeting?” Asaron said.
“Two nights from now.” Victory tilted her chair back. “Half an hour after sunset. Which means I believe I will be calling on Dean Joensen tomorrow evening.” She stole a sip of Mikelos’ beer. “And afterward, perhaps some coffee at Café Lizzette might be nice.”
It was going to be a fun evening.
Soon after sunset the next evening, Victory drove out to Jarimis University. She still had some time before the dean was expecting her, so after parking near the administration building, she took a few minutes to wander over to the Garden of Remembrance that overlooked the river. Various friends over the years had described the gorgeous sunsets over the Agios River. Mikelos even taped one onto a vid-disk for her a few years ago, but her family informed her that it could only truly be experienced in person. The river was just as beautiful by starlight, however.
Even she donned tank tops in summer weather this warm, and a light breeze brushed over Victory’s bare shoulders as she wound her way through the garden. Water splashed in a small fountain, the stone spout in the shape of Toria’s rapier. She knelt at the edge of the basin and ran one hand over the bronze plaque—Victory’s personal contribution to the garden established by the college.
IN HONOR AND LOVING MEMORY OF JARIMIS
BELOVED PROGENY AND FRIEND
A sudden flash of memory. Jarimis standing before her, arms wide to encompass the river and surrounding land. His tousled black hair made even wilder by the wind blowing off the water. “Like my new project?” he said. “It’s time I stopped trying to be a mercenary like you.”
Laughter interrupted her reverie, and she raised her head in time to see a trio of students attending summer classes wander into the garden from the direction of the history and social sciences building. A blanket hung over the young man’s shoulder and the girls clutched paper bags that clinked to her vampiric hearing. They must be cutting down to the shore for the traditional student pastime.
The three froze when they saw her. Victory rose to her feet and smiled at them, careful not to show fang. But they returned hesitant looks. Then, the young man said, “You’re Victory, aren’t you?”
“So somebody did actually attend my orientation lecture,” Victory said, hoping the teasing note in her voice would relax them. Every fall, Victory gave the same short talk Jarimis used to make about the importance of education in this post-Wasteland era, also including a brief speech on the university founder’s life.
Their nervousness at stumbling upon Limani’s Master of the City seemed to fade. The young man even gifted her with a tentative smile. “I’m a History major, so I thought your talk was really interesting. I’ve been to some of your other lectures, too. You’re a good storyteller.”
Unexpected, but welcome, praise for her skill as a guest lecturer in the History department.
“Okay, almost burning down the apartment,” Victory said. “No, what concerns me more is that little stunt at the restaurant.”
“It was a bit of a drastic measure, Toria,” Mikelos said.
Toria jumped to her own defense. “It’s not my fault the lady was a jerk to me. And I had no idea she would call the cops the second I walked into the place.”
“Ooh, scary mage alert!” Kane’s quip caused a ripple of laughter, breaking the tension around the table.
Her mother matched her smile. “You’re right, love. The police involvement was not necessarily your fault. But it might have been something you’d suspect.”
“But nothing bad happened,” Toria said. “I wasn’t arrested. Nothing went on any sort of record. And by her actions, Emily Fabbri proved in front of everyone in her restaurant that she is prejudiced to the point of extremism.”
“And the question we must now ask is exactly how far she will take that prejudice,” Victory said.
“When’s your next council meeting?” Asaron said.
“Two nights from now.” Victory tilted her chair back. “Half an hour after sunset. Which means I believe I will be calling on Dean Joensen tomorrow evening.” She stole a sip of Mikelos’ beer. “And afterward, perhaps some coffee at Café Lizzette might be nice.”
It was going to be a fun evening.
Soon after sunset the next evening, Victory drove out to Jarimis University. She still had some time before the dean was expecting her, so after parking near the administration building, she took a few minutes to wander over to the Garden of Remembrance that overlooked the river. Various friends over the years had described the gorgeous sunsets over the Agios River. Mikelos even taped one onto a vid-disk for her a few years ago, but her family informed her that it could only truly be experienced in person. The river was just as beautiful by starlight, however.
Even she donned tank tops in summer weather this warm, and a light breeze brushed over Victory’s bare shoulders as she wound her way through the garden. Water splashed in a small fountain, the stone spout in the shape of Toria’s rapier. She knelt at the edge of the basin and ran one hand over the bronze plaque—Victory’s personal contribution to the garden established by the college.
IN HONOR AND LOVING MEMORY OF JARIMIS
BELOVED PROGENY AND FRIEND
A sudden flash of memory. Jarimis standing before her, arms wide to encompass the river and surrounding land. His tousled black hair made even wilder by the wind blowing off the water. “Like my new project?” he said. “It’s time I stopped trying to be a mercenary like you.”
Laughter interrupted her reverie, and she raised her head in time to see a trio of students attending summer classes wander into the garden from the direction of the history and social sciences building. A blanket hung over the young man’s shoulder and the girls clutched paper bags that clinked to her vampiric hearing. They must be cutting down to the shore for the traditional student pastime.
The three froze when they saw her. Victory rose to her feet and smiled at them, careful not to show fang. But they returned hesitant looks. Then, the young man said, “You’re Victory, aren’t you?”
“So somebody did actually attend my orientation lecture,” Victory said, hoping the teasing note in her voice would relax them. Every fall, Victory gave the same short talk Jarimis used to make about the importance of education in this post-Wasteland era, also including a brief speech on the university founder’s life.
Their nervousness at stumbling upon Limani’s Master of the City seemed to fade. The young man even gifted her with a tentative smile. “I’m a History major, so I thought your talk was really interesting. I’ve been to some of your other lectures, too. You’re a good storyteller.”
Unexpected, but welcome, praise for her skill as a guest lecturer in the History department.
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