Archive of Our Own ^beta

Today had not been among the better days of Aelwyn Abernant's life, and it was all Adaine's fault.  

She'd been missing that morning, her window open, and it had put their parents in a foul mood with the certainty that she was pulling a stunt and running away.  They were probably right, of course, because that did seem like something Adaine might do, except...

Aelwyn's stomach crawled.  She would have thought Adaine would have left a note about why she was leaving.  She never missed a chance to complain, and it would be a perfect one.  But trying to get their parents to report it, or change their course of action from what they'd decided to do in any way, probably wouldn't be worth it.  Best just to keep studying; the Hudol entrance exam was only half a year or so away, as mother never failed to remind her.

Only perfect marks would do, from their perfect daughter.

Still, it had been hours now, and Mother must have had some chance to work on some divination spells to find Adaine by now.  They could hardly just let her be found by the locals, after all.  And Aelwyn could at least try to listen in under the guise of putting together a quick lunch to keep studying on.

On making her way downstairs, Aelwyn was alarmed to see that they had company she had missed entering; Mother and Father were in the sitting room with an unfamiliar man.  An elderly, bald black human, with a long beard, who looked up and directly at her even though she'd been trying to pass unseen.

"Ah, you must be Aelwyn, then!"  He sounded delighted by the notion, somehow, and she felt rather flatfooted, only sparing her parents a brief glance in panic before looking back at the man.  They were both still, seeming very stern in the way they often were when non-elves visited.

"Er, yes.  I am."  Aelwyn said, her gaze moving back to her parents.  It was unlike them to let someone simply speak to her in this way, without an introduction of any kind.

Oh.  Now that she took a closer look, their expressions were less 'stern' and much more 'glassy'.

"I had paid a visit so that I might ask a few questions about your sister, and I'm afraid that I was not met with the proper courtesy one would expect an ambassador to show."  The man said, waving his hand at Father, who remained completely still.

"Do... do you know where Adaine is, then?"  Aelwyn asked.  That wasn't relief, of course.  She would have had to be worried for there to be relief.

"Oh, yes, the vice principal of my school has kidnapped her.  Already claimed her, too; she must have been eager to get away from these two, not that I blame her.  She might turn him into something of a softee, I never thought I would see the day - he normally can't stand children."  The man was clearly a maniac, and one who had managed to subdue both of the adult Abernants.

Aelwyn took a step back away from the entry into the sitting room, not at all certain what she was supposed to do, what the right path might be.  "Who are you?"  She finally asked, bewildered.

His eyes widened at that, as though he couldn't believe she didn't already somehow know.  "Who am I?  I'm Arthur fucking Aguefort, that's who I am.  They haven't taught either one of you anything worth knowing, have they?  What a waste of wizardly potential.  It should have been criminal to leave children with them, not to take one away."  A wave of his hand, and she stammered for a moment before he refocused his attention fully on her.

"I find my days rather lonely, and an apprentice for a daughter sounds like a wonderful notion.  How would you like to live a life without fear, my dear Aelwyn?"

Aelwyn Aguefort hadn't been entirely certain what to expect out of the classes at her father's school.  He'd done something to pull her from Hudol's lower classes without friction that she was probably better off not knowing the details of, and she'd skipped the last several months of what would have been middle school for more or less everyone else here.

Instead, she'd been getting books and teaching directly from her father.  Her old parents had had many, many flaws, but she had always thought of her prior mother in particular as a skilled wizard.  She had been mistaken.  Crazy as he could be, awful cook as he was, every time she worked with her new dad she found new boundaries of reality that he thought mere suggestions, almost always correctly.

Given that this had been a school he founded, she'd thought wizard classes would be the same.  Then they'd started reviewing basic cantrips and introductory spells to start and she'd realized she'd been sorely in the wrong - this was all things she'd far passed even before she'd left Hudol.

She'd gone with the first party who had thought to ask her, not realizing it would be a terribly important choice, and they were boring her already.  They were wanting to play it safe, and stick to the recommended quests, and Aelwyn was coming to see that that could not possibly be what her new dad was aiming for.  No, he wanted people who would find their own way, carve out a path to power and knowledge and riches, and that didn't involve any murdering rats and spiders in the fucking woods.  The argument had been fierce, but she'd been outvoted four to one and was stuck with them until at least the end of the year.

Just for quests, though.  It was completely fine that she was sitting alone in the lunchroom with some sort of goop that made her desperately hope tonight was dino nuggets night.  She had a book she should be studying anyways; stopping time did seem like a pretty incredible defense and dad had claimed it required grounding in chronomantic theory.  She'd have accused him of propping up his textbook sales - he was the author - except he'd given her the book to begin with.

The book had essentially no structure, and she glanced once more at the opening paragraph.

Of course any true wizard may be wondering why they should have to learn the materials contained within this book.  Mastery of time should mean that so long as they learn it at some point, it does not matter if they know it now, or indeed if they learn it before using it!  This leaves two possibilities for any reader:  For the vast majority, they are a failure, and shall never accomplish the true power of CHRONOMANCY.  However, for those select few who shall become accomplished in that fine art, know this:  You are instead a sucker, who all of your past and future selves have tricked into doing the hard and boring part.  Which shall it be for you, dear reader, failure or sucker?

He needed an editor, not an apprentice, but she wasn't going to try to volunteer for that job.  

"Are you really the principal's daughter?"  A voice interrupted her concentration, and she looked up to see two vaguely familiar girls standing near her table.  They weren't freshmen, but she was pretty sure they were only a year ahead of her; the one a step closer was a half-elf with brown hair.  Just behind her was a water genasi whose attention wasn't on Aelwyn at all but rather on the speaking girl.

"I am."  She said, curious where this was going.  There was a certain bearing the half-elf had that had its appeal.  "Aelwyn Aguefort, at your service."  She added, waving her hand.

"Aah.  I'm Penelope, and this is Sam.  It must be hard, coming to a school with your name on it and not even able to manage one friend."  Penelope said, looking pointedly at the empty seats next to and across from Aelwyn.

Aelwyn shut her book, tapping her fingers over the cover before deciding just to cut through it.  "What do you want and why should I bother helping you with it?"

Penelope rolled her eyes.  "If you don't want to have any fun with it...  You can get into your dad's office, right?  Can you get a look at the available quests for the year early?  I need the primo sophomore year quest, I'm not getting stuck with the dregs again after last year."

Was that it?  All of them didn't even come in at the same time, Aelwyn was pretty certain, but it was hardly a difficult task.  "I'll do it for an invite to a party.  A good one."

"It's too late in the year for you to change parties, don't you even know that much?"  Penelope sneered.  It was a better look for her, Aelwyn thought, much more a glimpse of her true self than even pretend friendliness.  Mean looked good on some people.  Could be a lot of fun, too, if she could take mean as well as give it.

"Not that kind of party.  You must be a bard or a sorcerer; all looks and no brain, is it?  Get me an invite to whoever throws the wildest bashes around's place and I'll get you early access to the quest list."  Aelwyn offered.  "Show up when I've had a chance to cut loose and I might even show you what real magic looks like."

Penelope laughed.  "What would dear old daddy think of you asking for that?"  Maybe an attempt at blackmail, Aelwyn thought?

"Probably that I should have held out for some gold, too."  She said, flipping her book back open.  "Ta ta for now."

Two days later, Penelope stopped her in the hall to introduce her to a junior named Max Durden.

The silence in the vice principal's office was tense enough to slice and serve for dinner, Aelwyn thought as Goldenhoard filled out the paperwork formally recommending her expulsion from the Aguefort Adventuring Academy.  The rest of her party - former party, now, she supposed - had all left minutes before, all placed on pass-fail with the change in their composition.

"You want me to let you in on a secret you should have figured out three hundred years ago, dragon?"  Aelwyn said, freed from having to pretend that he was anything other than what he was now that they were alone.

"Haven't you been reckless enough for one day, Miss Aguefort?"  He said, not looking up from where he was filling out the form.

"Oh, spare me.  You and I both know you don't give a damn if a student was dead for good, let alone for like an hour and a half before she could be revived."  She'd actually rather liked the dragon, the first time they'd met - he'd seemed as annoyed by dad's habits as she was - but the way he treated Adaine, like she was a prize or a coin rather than...

...Adaine seemed to like it.  Aelwyn wouldn't try to hurt him until she could convince Adaine it wasn't right, that she should seek the same kind of joy and freedom that Aelwyn had found with Arthur, but it set her blood boiling just to think about.  Also, dad had to be keeping him around for a reason.

That reason might just be to make tea, though.

Goldenhoard's voice remained the fake one he used dealing with the normal students, however.  "It is my job to pretend to care for the students of this school, especially when one murders another."

"It's hardly a murder.  She's supposed to be a rogue.  Rogues are supposed to be able to avoid the damage from spells like Fireball.  It's not my fault she was too fucking stupid to duck, there were four enemies grouped up perfectly and I wasn't about to miss the opportunity."  Aelwyn said.  He took it better than when she'd told Elise and the rest of the party that just after the rogue had been raised from the dead.

"Is your secret just that Arthur is going to refuse to expel you?  I am well aware of his willingness to bend the rules for those he favors.  It is still my job to apply the rules as best I can."  Goldenhoard said, signing the form at the bottom, leaving space for dad's signature.

"That's part of it.  The more important part is...  it wouldn't matter if you did expel me.  It doesn't matter who the ministry of adventure thinks is a proper adventurer and who they don't, and it certainly doesn't matter who has a piece of paper from this school saying they're good at going out and fighting people for money.  None of your paperwork for the last three hundred years has mattered one bit."  He had to have known that all along, dumb as he could be about some things.

He didn't give her the satisfaction of an immediate response, though, holding the form out.  "Do take this over to Arthur, will you?  I'll enjoy at least being able to talk with my treasured daughter about her crazy sister murdering an ally."

She snarled, because why not snarl, and snatched the form from his grasp, heading down the hall towards dad's office and through his wards.  He was, for reasons not immediately obvious to her, standing on top of his desk on his tip-toes.

"Aah, Aelwyn!  I've heard you had quite a day."  He said, looking down at her.  She dropped the form on his desk, before taking a seat in the quite cozy chair across from him.

"Let me know when I can burn that."  She asked, waiting while he climbed down and took a look.

"You've lost your party, Aelwyn?" Dad asked, sounding slightly disappointed for the first time she could remember.  "The whole school is structured around them.  Obviously you're not expelled, but what is it you plan to do?"

"I can just fill in for whoever needs a powerful wizard.  No more whining about 'this quest is too hard' or anything, I might scream if I have to hear any more of that."  He looked even more disappointed, so she cut his objection off.  "I mean, I would charge for it, of course.  People who want a powerful wizard should be ready to pay one."

"That's my girl."  Arthur said, warming up.  "But still...  You could go pass-fail this year and follow the normal path to rejoin a party next year."

"No.  I'm not doing it again."  Aelwyn said, putting her foot down.  "You're going to just... list me as your apprentice, like you told me I was.  That should be plenty for anyone.  And Goldenhoard can suck it if he doesn't like it."  She added, allowing some of the extra Adaine-adjacent anger to well up.

Dad chuckled.  "He can suck it indeed.  I think I'm finished, then."  He said, gesturing to the paper.  A flick of her wrist and a firebolt later, and there was no more considering of expelling Aelwyn Aguefort, just ash on the fireproof desk.  "Now, if you want to help me, I'm coming up with a set of enchantments to automatically change the light bulbs in here when they're close to burning out.  Climb up and take a look."

He was so weird - a permanent Light enchantment would have been far easier and also made better light to begin with - but it was the perfect distraction for a while to poke and prod at the contingencies, and she felt the anger and frustration at Kalvaxus, at Elise, and even at Adaine and her willingness to be a dragon's trophy unknot a little bit as they worked side by side atop the desk.

"Thanks, dad."  She murmured at the end, not even certain he'd be able to hear her over where the socket was presently spewing out sparks as the test bulb was changed out.

He'd heard her, judging by the smile he gave in response, and that night they had a double-sized portion of dino nuggets.