෴✵෴

❝ 𝙻𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎, 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜. 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎?❞

─ 𝐴𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑀𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑛

෴✵෴

As a first year, the sorting is something to behold. Everything is new and grand; there's ghosts, and floating candles, and the ceiling's enchanted to reveal the weather outside. The hat sings for crying out loud!

But by the time Nina gets to her sixth year the Great Hall seems to lose its magic. The enchantment on the ceiling just seems redundant given that there's a bleeding window right behind the staff table. The school song is horrendous (thank God they haven't been forced to sing it since first year). Never mind all that, the sorting just takes far too long. The last thing anyone wants to do when they've been deprived of a proper meal all day is sit and watch a bunch of pip squeaks try on the same mangled hat.

Nina is squished between Parkinson and Merula Snyde. The atmosphere from the train follows them into the Great Hall, their voices dull drones in comparison to normal, as if they're afraid of someone overhearing their conversation, terrified they'll think the worst. She contemplates murdering the blonde twerp for ruining what little normalcy Nina had been holding on to (by the end of the year she'll be much worse than a killer anyway). Malfoy ruins everything.

It's not just at the Slytherin table either. Maybe it's the clouds growing outside, or the fact that everyone is worried (or their parents are anyway), what with people going missing, and getting killed and arrested left and right. Where the Great Hall used to be bursting with color and life, it's now a muted grey; the students are slumped in their seats, fidgeting and muttering as if afraid to speak above a whisper. More than once nervous glances are cast at Barbara Johnson, who's doing her best to keep her head down, to not be noticed. It all reminds Nina a little too much of the villagers and Frankenstein's monster. A horror show waiting to happen.

Nina is used to living in the dark, what with the way her father fancies the night so much, and his infatuation for the Dark Arts, and absolute lack of talent in the décor department. She likes morbid stuff too, but this is ridiculous.

Used to be, the first years would come in, and everyone would stand up, craning their necks to see them and try and guess where each of them would end up. Everyone would compare the hat's song to the one it sang to their year (because the lyrics change every time). Used to be, everyone would holler at the top of their lungs when someone new was brought into their house. But this year there's only polite clapping for the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws; when someone gets in Hufflepuff everyone shoots weary grins at the newcomers and nervous glances at Barbara Johnson. For Slytherin there's silence.

It's understandable. No one wants to be sorted into the evil house.

When did everything change?

The truth is it has always been this way. Nina has just never noticed it quite like this before; it doesn't matter if Hufflepuff gets a bad rep for housing His granddaughter, Slytherin's will always be worse. Slytherin will always be feared more.

Nina slouches in her chair, gritting her teeth and wishing this stupid "ceremony" would just hurry up. Who cares about this stuff anyway? It won't matter in thirty years, it won't even matter tomorrow, because the world is already doomed. It makes no difference if you're wearing, red, or blue, or whatever, because everyone in this Hall is as good as dead.

When He gets hold of the school (and he will, because why else would he have Malfoy be doing what he is) it'll be every student for themselves, regardless of what house they're from. Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw alike, scratching, clawing their way to the top, cutting down anyone who dares stand in their way just for the sake of survival. At least, she knows Slytherin will do this, they're the only ones resourceful enough, ruthless enough. They're the only ones smart enough to give a damn about their own skin, instead of throwing their lives away just to prove what a badass they are -- you can't help anyone if you're dead. Slytherin knows where the safety net is, that's all. It's a shame their reputation will only worsen because of this.

"Quincy, Kiah." The girl is small for an eleven year old, one of the last three yet to be sorted. Her hair is long and stringy but not entirely unkempt. Nothing about the girl particularly stands out -- there's no defiant look in her eyes, or swagger in her steps, or bizarre head gear to indicate signs of quirkiness -- so, it's difficult to guess where the hat might place her. (Personally, Nina is hoping for Hufflepuff, but that's just because they're the best house in Hogwarts next to Slytherin). The only slightly unusual thing about Kiah Quincy is that there's an elf at her side. Odd.

Kiah somehow looks even smaller when she approaches Professor McGonagall and sits on the stool. Nina thinks she sees her hands shake when the deputy headmistress lowers the hat over her head. There's a moment's pause, then, "SLYTHERIN!"

No one cheers, and few people from the other tables even glance up. Most just look bored, though Nina catches a few of them rolling their eyes. Dumbledore, apparently unable to read a room, is the only one who gives a polite applause.

Kiah winces. She only starts moving towards the green clad table once McGonagall has called the next student up and her elf has given her a slight prod. It's easy to see her shaking hands, now, as she sits, back stiff, at the end of the table. She looks like she's trying to avoid sitting too close to the other students. Nina frowns.

She remembers when she first got sorted into Slytherin, the week-long internal anguish ("Does this mean I'm a bad kid?" ) that could only be stopped when an older girl named Clara smacked some sense into her ("The reputation of your house does not define who you are"). It's a tragic thing, to be eleven years old and feel the slap of the label the world will stick to your back the second your robes turn green.

Evil, Dark wizards/witches, Death Eater Spawn.

Granted, Slytherin has turned out the most Dark witches and wizards of all the houses, including Him. It's not like the stereotype is coming out of nowhere, there are plenty of bad Slytherin to go around, Nina acknowledges that. People have a right to worry, because even now a lot of them are pretty dodgy (Malfoy and his idiot goons for instance). She just thinks everyone gets hung up on that bit. The amount of "bad" kids in Slytherin house is, despite being higher on average than the other three, only makes up about five percent of the house; but even they could turn themselves around if given the chance, right? Just because they're a little moody and edgy and tend to go to the extremes when it comes to winning...

That's not it, of course -- at least, it's not the only reason. The issue lies with this: people don't want their kids corrupted by the children of dark witches and wizards. They don't want them seduced by the Dark Arts or falling in with Him because they chose the wrong friends. And that's who gets into Slytherin isn't it? The rebellious, troubled teens. The mean little snots who like to beat up those weaker than them. Who make up vile hexes and curses just for the fun of it. The pure blood supremacists in the making. It's in their DNA, after all. Their parents are this way, why wouldn't they be the same? The world has already given up on them -- easier than trying to save them from themselves, isn't it?

But in the midst of it all it's easy to overlook one critical fact: they're just kids.

They like Quidditch, and Gobstones, and Exploding Snap, and Wizarding Chess, too. They have life ambitions, too (it's one of their house traits for fuck's sake!). They have thoughts of their own, too. They worry about if so and so likes them back, or if their hair looks decent on a given day; they are worried about getting enough O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, too. They're scared of what's in store for all of them when He takes over, too.

They're not just duplicates of their parents before them. They don't have to end up like they did.

Then again...

Nina tugs at the sleeve on her left arm. It's hard to advocate a better image for her house when she knows she fits the mold.

Over at the other end of the table Kiah looks as though she's about to burst into tears. Her elf is trying to comfort her -- at least, Nina thinks she is. The elf and the girl are speaking with their hands. (She's seen a few students do this around the halls, the deaf or hard of hearing students who're mostly muggle born. Nina has never seen an elf tag along with anyone, though. It's strange).

Nina watches them, fiddling with her fork when the food arrives (she's not very hungry anymore). Her mind wanders. It's too late for her to change anything for herself, isn't it? Nina's fate had been sealed the second her father signed her life away without taking into account what she might want. He made sure of that.

But Kiah... she's still young, still innocent. There's still hope for her. Nina isn't sure if she's the best person for the job, given where she's landed herself, but she knows Kiah can be saved if she's steered in the right direction. Given the way the other sixth years are ignoring the first years now (save for Pansy who's the prefect and has to answer all their questions by herself since Malfoy is all but rejecting his position as the other Slytherin prefect) nobody else seems willing to step up to the plate. Everyone, second year and up, has already formed their friendships, glued themselves to their cliques; they're blind to the poor, lost first years, Kiah in particular.

Nina gets to her feet before she even has time to properly think it through. A few people from the other tables glance up at the movement but quickly go back to whatever they'd been whispering about before. She gets a distinct feeling it has something to do with her, what with the way their eyes flicker back to her when they think she isn't looking. Her stomach drops, tugging on her sleeve again. Do they know?

She shakes it off. Now's not the time to panic; she does what her father has taught her when she was learning Occlumency from him years ago, albeit begrudgingly. In her mind, Nina stuffs all her thoughts and feelings on the matter into a closet, then she slams the door shut tight and locks it, never to be opened again. It's important, in Occlumency, to close off anything and everything someone might use against you when performing Legemency. The same is true when dealing with heartless teenagers. Nina has been doing this for so long, it's almost second nature to her, as easy and natural as breathing. Automatic, a default.

Besides, there's always the chance she's overreacting. Her father is the DADA teacher this year, and no one has ever taught that class for longer than a year. They might just be wondering what will happen to the Snapes come the end of term. No sense in making herself look mad over something so trivial.

When she reaches her destination, Nina turns her back on the other houses' tables, keeps her eyes on the small girl she's now sitting next to. Kiah looks like she might faint. She supposes, it is quite intimidating: a tall, sixth year girl approaching the small eleven year old without warning, especially someone like Nina who has a nose ring and a twisted, little grin. Some might say she looks a bit dangerous and unhinged at first glance. (Nina also has a reputation for setting things on fire, but she doubts that'll have gotten round to the first years yet.)

"Hello," Nina says, ignoring the younger girl's discomfort. The elf gives Kiah a wave as Nina talks, and in return the girl raises her hand in acknowledgment, eyeing her every move. It's like she thinks Nina is going to murder her or something. She keeps going, in spite of this, "Couldn't help noticing you're here all on your own. Normally, I'm not one for socializing, but apparently I've gone mad. Thought I'd make nice with at least one other person this year." The elf's tiny fingers are moving right along with Nina's voice, too fast for her to make out what she's gesturing. It's almost distracting, but only because Nina has never seen anything like it before and a large part of her just wants to watch the elf sign to the girl. "Plus, you remind me of myself when I was your age. Why are you on your own anyway? Haven't you got any friends?"

"Visky is my only friend." It's the elf who speaks, not the girl, which throws Nina off. The elf's voice is pleasing to the ear, as if she does this as a profession, and Nina finds that she wouldn't mind listening to her talk all day long either. Kiah keeps moving her hands, and Visky keeps talking. Nina realizes she's interpreting what the girl is saying with her signs.

Somehow, she manages to keep up with the impossible speed Kiah is moving with, never missing a beat. "She's been my interpreter for three years. Some might say it's unprofessional to make friends with your interpreter, but I don't think it's possible to not like someone after spending so much time with them. I wouldn't trust anyone more than I would Visky." The elf broke off with a big grin, speaking her own words now, "Oh, that is very kind of you, Quinn." Quinn? Is that the girl's nickname? Kiah gives the elf a hug, a small, fond smile tugging at her lips. Nina can't stop the twinge of jealousy from piercing her heart at the sight. She misses Fin...

"I've never heard of any house elf interpreters?" It's Malfoy, butting his stupid nose in where it doesn't belong. He just has to put in his two penn'orth doesn't he? He just thinks the whole damn world loves hearing him talk. Little fucker. His voice is the exact opposite of Visky's in that it sounds more like a fork grinding in the garbage disposal. Nina hadn't even noticed he'd been sitting a few places away until he spoke, and her mood instantly sours. She wonders if it's appropriate to stab him with her fork, the way he's looking at poor Visky, like she's some ugly thing that doesn't belong with them, as if he thinks she shouldn't have the job she does.

"Oh, I am the only one since the house elf revolution..." That's a victory owing to the S.P.E.W. The organization had sparked such inspiration in the elves way back in fourth year when it was first created that they rose up, refused to work unless they got proper pay and holiday, equal rights to witches and wizards and other creatures in the magical world. It was led by an elf named Dobby, who incidentally was once the Malfoy family's slave (because yes that's what they were, whether you slapped the nicer title of 'house elf' on it or not). It makes sense that Visky would venture out and invent a new job for herself. "Of course, not everyone thinks we elves should have proper jobs, see, they think we should go back to being house peasants, and S.P.E.W. has been getting a bad name lately with you-know-who's granddaughter as one of the founders. So, finding work is difficult, hence why Quinn here has been my client for so long. But in spite of all that the agency is blooming. I am getting more and more employees and clients every day."

There's a defiance in Visky's voice as she speaks to Malfoy, a threatening undertone. She's daring him to say something ignorant, bating him to challenge her race's progress so she can put him in his place. Malfoy doesn't bite, apparently knowing it's going to end badly for him if he says anything else. He goes back to whatever he was doing before, muttering something rude under his breath. It's at this moment Nina falls in love with Visky the elf.

"I've been at Hogwarts for longer than anyone," Nina goes on, as if Malfoy hasn't interjected. "My dad's a teacher here, so when I was younger he didn't have anywhere to put me for the school year so I got to tag along. While he was working, I got to explore the castle, learn a few tricks and stuff. I can show you a few if you want?"

Kiah gives a polite smile once Visky finishes signing Nina's words to her. "That sounds nice," the elf says as Kiah signs. "But won't people think you're teaching me something awful? They say this is the house where they stick all the bad kids." From the expression on the elf's face, Nina can tell Visky has already spent a great deal of time trying to convince the girl she's not a bad kid just because she's in Slytherin. Nina gets a wave of Deja vu. It was only five years ago that she was in Kiah's place having a similar conversation with Clara. Her heart clenches. She wonders what the older girl was up to, now that she's left Hogwarts and what she'd think, how disappointed she'd be if she could see Nina now...

"It's my belief that we're more edgy than bad, but what others say about us is their problem," Nina says. "And in any case, the reputation of your house doesn't define who you turn out to be."

Accept when it does...

Nina tugs on her sleeve again. "Your identity isn't something you can just stuff inside a box or check off a list. It's yours. So, you get to make it up as you go, yeah? For better or for worse we've been sorted into the Slytherin House. That means, at the very least, we value determination; we could be the next world leaders if we want to be.

"We could take the whole bloody world by storm, claw our way up from the very bottom. We will bounce back from hell with smiles on our faces and still push forward when others will merely give up, because they don't have the drive, the guts, or skill to do the same. They call us evil, because of a few bad eggs. Because they don't comprehend what it means to be cunning. They say we're destined for dark and vile things, but what do they know about us? We're strong, powerful, fierce, second only to Hufflepuff. The traits we value are not bad, they're not evil, they don't mark you as a dark witch unless that's the path you choose.

"But you can walk a different path. After all, what's more cunning and ambitious than breaking the mold?" She's paraphrasing things already said by both Barbara and Clara, she knows, so the speech isn't exactly new or authentic, but Kiah seems inspired all the same. Nina's glad to see she's successful in raising the younger girl's spirits, but there's a sour taste in her mouth. She doesn't believe a word she's just said.

It's all a lie...

Perhaps, some small part of her had been trying to latch on to whatever bit of pride she had left, but it's difficult to be hopeful, to be defiant and proud of your own identity when all the evidence suggests the opposite should be true.

Visky is grinning as she interprets Nina's speech, a spark in her eyes, something like admiration, which makes Nina's stomach drop. She doesn't know that Nina has just stolen her words; she has no idea that nothing she's said is actually true. Nina isn't all that impressive. She's just a liar and a thief. Terrible, just like everyone else who's come from this house. She does not deserve her admiration. "I think you will make a great mentor." Nina isn't paying attention to whether this is Kiah or Visky's words. The world seems far away now.

I'll try...

That's all she can think. She'll try to save this girl who's yet to fuck up so bad she ends up in Nina's shoes, to steer her clear of the wrong crowd, to see that she's the one who fixes Slytherins' image, that, come Kiah's seventh year, she'll still be pure and innocent, free of darkness the way Nina failed to do for herself. She'll try.

"Er -- right, so, Kiah --"

The girl puts her hand on Nina's arm to stop her; she does a series of signs. Hooking her fingers around an O shape; touching her index first to her pinkie then her middle; then tapping her palm twice with two fingers. "My friends call me Quinn," Visky interprets.

"Alright," Nina says, "Quinn then." They share a small smile. It takes a moment for Nina to manage stuffing everything back behind that imaginary door in her mind. Sometimes it opens and she has a hard time closing it. "First lesson," she must be doing a decent job at pretending because Quinn grins up at her like she's about to say something amazing. "Stay away from Ferret Boys." She points at Malfoy, who's mining a scene in which he's breaking someone's nose.

In the same moment Potter walks in with her dad, dried blood all over his face, which makes Nina think he's the victim of this story. Typical. Malfoy and Potter have been mortal enemies since first year, and the feud is banking on childish now, but there's no way this incident happened in the Slytherin compartment. Potter hadn't been there... Then, Nina remembers: someone laughed when she'd been verbally abusing Malfoy. Had he somehow turned himself invisible and snuck his way inside to eavesdrop? Nina remembers when the door got stuck. Oh, shit...

Malfoy's too busy being a dick to hear her comment, which is a shame, because Nina would have loved to watch him twitch from the embarrassment. What's more, he seems more than confident that this Potter problem has been resolved, but Nina doesn't think so. Not with the reputation he has, how he goes gallivanting off to find trouble. And the things Malfoy had been saying in that compartment... Nina bites the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming.

Potter'll be on to them, for sure, but with any luck he'll go about discovering the truth in a manner that makes him look mad. Nina just has to look normal, inconspicuous. She doesn't think she's said anything all that incriminating, just Malfoy. "They're no good." Nina tries to shake herself from her growing state of fogginess. Potter should have no reason to suspect her of anything. Right?

Quinn turns to Visky, screwing up her face. Nina doesn't understand sign language, but she reckons the exchange between them goes something like this:

Quinn: Ferret Boy? Are you sure you got that right?

Visky: Positive. Maybe he's an Animagus...?

Their expressions and the prospect of enraging Draco Malfoy are enough to pull Nina back from the depths of her own despair; so she tells them the story. How Malfoy had been picking a fight with Potter in their fourth year, the way he was making fun of Weasley's mother, and how in turn he'd gotten himself transfigured into a ferret by the Defense teacher serving that year. Like everyone else in the entire school, Quinn and Visky find it hilarious. Nina tries to distract herself by telling the two stories, catching them up on everything that's happened at Hogwarts in the last five years. The death of their first year Defense teacher, the werewolf who taught in third year, the Triwizard Tournament in fourth year, the Ministry take-over in fifth year... But reflecting upon all of it is only a stark reminder of everything yet to come...

Dumbledore stands after a moment, and Nina can't stop her mind from whirling. There's too many thoughts falling upon her to stuff inside that make-believe closet. At the forefront there's: By the end of the year, this man is going to die.

The headmaster begins his welcome speech with the usual 'Filch says this and that is banned and you can look at the full list in his office' and introduces the newest staff member (there's loads of muttered whispers when everyone realizes Slughorn will be teaching potions now and Nina's father Defense Against the Dark Arts). He ends it with something along the lines of, "It's important now more than ever that we be careful and stick together." Nina isn't paying attention to his exact wording, but it starts something among the Hogwarts students.

Zacharias Smith scoffs and stands up. "Can't be too worried about everyone's safety, can you? Not if you let her back in!" He points at Barbara, who looks like she's trying to disappear into her seat at the other end of the Hufflepuff table. Several people mutter agreements, a few even commenting how they almost had to transfer because their parents were so afraid of her (even though Barbara Johnson has never done anything wrong).

There's more back and forth, everyone waving their wands in every direction. Tensions are growing higher, and it's not hard to imagine things getting ugly fast. Nina tugs on Quinn's sleeve, nodding towards the door. Whatever happens, it's not something she wants her younger friend to witness. She leads the younger girl and Visky into the entrance hall just in time. As soon as they're out of the line of fire the hexes start flying in every direction. Not even McGonagall's shrill shouts for order can contain the chaos.

෴✵෴

෴✵෴

𝑉𝑜𝑙𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜

෴✵෴

𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒

𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡
𝑂𝑛 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑
𝐹𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑚
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑜𝑚
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑤𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦
𝐴𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑦𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑠
𝑂𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑜𝑛
𝑂𝑓 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑦𝑠.

𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠
𝑊𝑎𝑠ℎ 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑐 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠.

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑠,
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑟𝑠,
𝐴𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑢𝑠, 𝑟𝑒𝑑, 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡
𝑀𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑙𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑.
𝑆𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑐, 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙.