Chapter Text
The Trial by Tale was not meant to be taken lightly.
Considered the pinnacle of the academic year, the annual Trial by Tale was venerated as the grand culmination of the top students’ efforts. Everybody in the school—teachers and students, Good and Evil alike—respected the tradition, and took all precautionary methods to ensure its proper execution.
All students longed to participate in this Trial. It was a tried-and-tested method to showcase both academic ability and survival prowess in hopes of eventually earning one’s own fairy tale. To participate in the Trial and emerge victorious would ensure one’s place in the school’s history for years to come, no matter how rare the occurrence might have been.
Being chosen to participate in this esteemed event warranted being in the top 10 of either school, as well as passing the pre-Trial challenges—these determined one’s starting position in the Trial. The rules for the Trial were few and simple:
- Entrances into the Trial will be staggered. At sundown, the Ever and Never with the lowest pre-Trial rankings will enter the Blue Forest. Every 15 minutes, the next-lowest pair will enter until the highest-ranked Ever and Never enter the competition last.
- Inside the Forest, Nevers can attack Evers with their special talents and any spell learned in class. Evers can defend themselves with approved weapons and counterspells. Both sides will be subject to obstacles laid by the faculty.
- Each challenger will be given an enchanted handkerchief of surrender. It is the challenger's duty to recognize mortal danger and drop his or her enchanted handkerchief when the time comes. The moment this handkerchief touches the ground, the student will be safely removed from the Trial.
- Upon the first glint of sunrise, the Deans will call an end to the Trial and the student(s) who returns through the gate alive will be named the winner(s).
- The winner will receive 5 extra first-place ranks in the race for Class Captain. In the case of multiple winners, each student will receive 2 extra first-place ranks.
It wasn’t uncommon to encounter stressed-out students practising hexes or sparring with their friends in the weeks leading up to the announcement of the Trial line-up. Even both school’s top third-years were subject to this inevitable emotional strain caused by the desire for academic validation—Lesso herself had been seen sporting fresh eyebags and rumours said Dovey’s hair had been a little more messy than usual.
Hushed whispers travelled across campus like wildfire—speculations about the potential representative students for both schools were more relevant to Evers and Nevers alike than their own classes. Everyone was making their own calculations and weighing their chances of making the line-up.
For instance, Cadell reasoned that since August and Lesso were in the same Forest Group, it was highly unlikely that August would be participating in the Trial. (Not to mention, Lesso’s position as Class Captain was almost a guarantee of her slot.) This possibility gave him more of a fighting chance at the Class Captain position since Lesso’s specialty was magic as opposed to August’s skill in hand-to-hand combat. (Cadell was pretty scrawny—even by Never standards—but he believed his brains and raw magical power more than made up for it.)
Hecate, however, thought that her classmate Cadell would be a foolish choice to represent their group, seeing as how he managed to weasel his way out of hand-to-hand duels in training. Evil, she believed, should not cower in the face of confrontation; rather, she thought herself to be a more worthy candidate, since her villain talent revolved around the integration of magic in combat. She prided herself on being able to hold her own against the August Sader in their classes, and longed to test her mettle against Evil’s Class Captain.
The list went on, with each student picking out their own bets for the line-up and seeing how they would match against these prospective opponents. Even Albemarle played along with prolonging the suspense, covering up the leaderboard that was displayed in the middle of both schools with a thick fabric that seemed to loom forebodingly in the afternoon sun.
“Do you reckon I should stop with the hexes and work on my Mogrification instead?” Lesso mumbled around a mouthful of food. She chewed pensively and swallowed after a moment.
“I mean,” she added, “I think I’ve finally figured out the lip-sealing shit and the counterspell.”
The redhead pursed her lips. “Maybe I should get August to spar with me soon.”
Dovey hummed, twirling a pen in her hand.
A cloud of steam formed with every breath she took. She leaned back onto the tree trunk and counted one, two, three snowflakes before speaking. “If you’re planning to work on Mogrification, maybe we can practise in your classroom later instead of the library? Or are you and August doing combat training?”
Puffing her cheeks out, the Never shrugged.
“Depends on him,” Lesso replied. Despite the cold, she was clad in only a loose black long-sleeved top and trousers. (Not that she seemed bothered in the slightest—Dovey could swear on her life that ice ran in Lesso’s veins.)
“If he’s busy, then I’ll train with you. We should probably mark our Blue Forest maps soon too. It’ll be good to get a head start on planning routes before the pre-Trial forest scout.”
“It’s hard to believe we’ve both been Captains this long,” Dovey chuckled lightly. Her thick coat nearly strangled her when she shifted to turn to Lesso, who laughed at her friend’s misfortune.
“Seems like only yesterday,” she grumbled, undoing a button with much struggle, “you were saving me from falling into that stupid ditch.”
Lesso shook her head and reached over to help the blonde with her furs. Her nimble fingers undid the first button with ease as she hummed, “Imagine if I hadn’t caught you that day.”
Dovey tilted her head thoughtfully. “If you hadn’t,” she paused, voice trailing off. A moment passed as she considered the possibility. “We wouldn’t be friends now, would we?”
“Probably,” the redhead agreed. She turned her attention back to the notebook on her lap, filled with random scribbles and notes from her previous lecture. “That would suck, to be honest.”
“Aww,” Dovey said teasingly, a triumphant smile on her face. “I knew you loved me.”
Lesso shook her head once more and flicked Dovey’s forehead gently. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, princess.” Her tone was stern but fond. “Life would be boring without your stupid optimism contradicting me all the time.”
“So you like yourself a challenge, huh?” the Ever pressed with a cheeky grin. Her mitten-clad hands were obscenely warm as she patted Lesso’s shoulder lightly. “It’s okay, we’ll find you somebody just as complicated as you are.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Lesso said, rolling her eyes. Teasing about her love life had always been persistent when it came to Dovey, and she was more than used to it at this point. (She had also learned how to hide how the jabs stung.) “You know I’m not looking for that right now.”
Dovey gave Lesso a sympathetic smile. “I know.” She scooted closer and wrapped an arm around the grumpy redhead.
“Still,” she added, “it’s just so much fun to tease you. You know, for a Never, your bark sure is worse than your bite.”
A moment of silence passed. Dovey’s last statement was untrue, and they both knew it.
“You’re lucky I love you,” the Never finally scoffed in mock offence. “You had me breaking school rules left and right in our first year. It was a miracle we didn’t get expelled, honestly.”
“We performed too well academically for them to fail us,” Dovey shrugged. “You had all of the faculty wrapped around your fucking finger by the time we were doing Circus prep.”
Lesso squinted, deep in thought.
“That’s not true,” she replied. “I don’t think Pollux or Castor liked me very much.”
Dovey frowned. “What makes you say that?”
Vague memories of a sheep carcass set on fire and a classroom of Evers in chaos, accompanied by shrill screaming from one of twin heads, tickled the back of Lesso’s mind.
The redhead shrugged. “Just a hunch.”
“Bullshit,” the Ever snorted disbelievingly, but she pressed no further.
The two sat in comfortable silence, leafing through their books and incanting softly under their breaths. A random profanity would escape the Never at failed spells, closely followed by an affectionate laugh from her companion, who was underlining terminologies from her textbook. Occasional flashes of gold or violet could be seen from all the way across the Clearing, the bright colours burning stark against the pale, snow-covered landscape.
“Why are plant-related spells so fucking hard?” Lesso complained after a while. Her purple finger glow blazed determinedly as she muttered the spell harshly under her breath, but to no avail; the leaf she had in front of her stubbornly remained a leaf.
Dovey chuckled lightly and placed a hand over Lesso’s. “I think you’re being a bit hard on the leaf, dearest,” she said in a gentle tone.
Removing the mittens that covered her hands, Dovey exhaled as she focused. The blonde’s finger glow burned persistently, but softly—akin to a candle’s fragile flame—and she uttered the spell. The leaf suddenly sprouted a stem, another leaf, and a bud—all before the flower burst into full bloom, a perfect violet orchid.
“Impressive, princess,” the redhead marvelled. Lesso picked up the flower and traced a finger over a petal tentatively. “You claim that I’m better at magic, but clearly you’ve been holding out on everybody else.”
With a dismissing wave, the Ever picked up the book in her lap and resumed her annotations. “Knowing spells doesn’t make me good at magic. You of all people should know that.”
Lesso tilted her head quizzically and slotted the orchid in Dovey’s hair. “My knowing doesn’t mean that you should keep downplaying your abilities, you know.”
She bit the inside of her mouth, debating what to say next. “You should give yourself a bit more credit. You’re Good’s Class Captain for a reason.”
“You know,” Dovey began, “you’re actually pretty cute when you’re not trying to scare people off.” She leaned over and pinched Lesso’s cheek. The Ever was only met with a half-hearted glare from her companion.
“Your fingers are freezing,” Lesso said, completely deadpan. The redhead leaned over and took Dovey’s hands in her own. “Why aren’t you wearing gloves?”
Dovey shrugged nonchalantly.
“Gloves hinder movement,” she replied. “Weren’t you the one who told me that once?”
A sharp breath escaped Lesso—strangely enough, she did recall saying that at some point. It had been a foolish, offhand remark that she thought Dovey would have already forgotten.
“It only applies to me, princess,” she huffed. “You and I both know that my tolerance for cold climates is much higher than yours.”
“I’ll be fine,” the blonde replied. She could feel her cheeks beginning to flush against her will, no doubt a physiological response to the close proximity between them. “Besides, I think we should both be more worried about the Trial line-ups being released later.”
Nodding, Lesso patted Dovey’s hands twice before letting go.
She leaned back onto the bare tree trunk and stretched languidly. (Dovey often remarked that Lesso resembled a cat—the way the redhead stuck her tongue out when she yawned wasn’t helping either.)
“More importantly,” she said, pausing to take a breath, “we need to talk about the dares we’ll be doing this year.”
The Ever laughed and shut her book, fully giving up on her studying. “What did you have in mind?” Her tone was lilting—teasing, even—as they both knew full well that Lesso would never answer her question honestly.
“We’ll have to see once the line-up is announced,” Lesso replied teasingly. Her head turned to look at the blonde, gaze lingering ever so slightly on the other’s lips. “There’s no point in spoiling the surprise, is there?”
“No point at all,” Dovey agreed, her own eyes locked on the Never’s. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the familiar Cheshire Cat smile that stretched over Lesso’s face mischievously—dangerously, almost.
Thank goodness Dovey found the prospect of danger thrilling.