"This is a total and utter waste of time."

Seiren stared up at the high stone arches of King's Academy of Magic. She had planned on never setting foot in this place again. When she applied for extenuating circumstances and leave to attend Kristen's execution, she'd thrown in the graduation ceremony as well, seeing as Benover wasn't that far from Patrixbourne, but she hadn't counted on Madeleine insisting on hoisting her there.

"It's Bolliver's first address to the probationary mages. We should be there. Especially as Kommora can't."

"Since when are we representatives of that old witch?"

"Since she saved our butts." Madeleine elbowed her. More visitors passed them on the stone bridge running over the empty moat leading into the tall, open metal doors of the entrance hall. Seiren's rainbow-lined cloak drew curious looks, which turned to disgust, to Seiren's astonishment. Parents tugged the hands of the younger siblings of the to-be graduates by hurriedly and Seiren couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. She'd spent her graduation day last year alone, hiding away from her classmates to avoid awkward conversations and furtive looks.

Standing before the main doors now with Madeleine, alive, beside her, reminded Seiren just how far she'd come. She'd graduated, become a state mage, revived Madeleine — and found out her mother was still alive. How much changed within a year.

The statues of the previous monarchs stood on either side of the stone bridge, staring haughtily at the visitors. Seiren used to dream about being a king's mage and walking importantly in a dark blue cloak beside King Pollin. Now, knowing the truth about them, seeing those piercing eyes just sent shivers down her spine.

She and Madeleine made their way across the bridge and down the corridor, passing pillars of elaborate, curly designs, beyond which the woods surrounding the academy could be seen. Normally there would be teens lounging or studying in the sun, but today they were all busy preparing for graduation. Endless flags of Karma hung from archways on either side of the coat of arms for the academy. Seiren successfully avoided interacting with anybody, including the curious glances of the ex-classmates who vaguely recognised her face, and managed to arrive at the graduating hall where the assemblies and awards took place. A high chamber opened before her, with paintings of mages vanquishing beasts across its ceiling, supported by swirling pillars painted gold and silver. A quiet hum of chatter filled the air. The seats were mostly empty. They made their way up the narrow wooden steps. Seiren drew more curious glances and not-so-subtle pointed fingers and Madeleine's hand, holding hers, tightened. They sat in the plush red seats beside an emergency exit at the far upper back.

Seiren glanced at Madeleine, whose face had paled despite the arduous climb to the far back, and she chewed her lip to the point of drawing blood, her fingers gripping the folds of her black cloak until her knuckles went white. Glancing forward, Seiren met the apprehensive eyes of those sitting several rows in front of them before the oglers turned back to the front in a hurry. She frowned. Thanks to Kommora, few actually knew about Seiren's participation in the battle of Benover, so she shouldn't be that recognisable.

But also thanks to Kommora issuing a warrant for the capture of Kristen, now everyone knew Kristen Harred was alive. And Seiren was the daughter of the mass murderer.

Oh.

That explained the condemning looks on the faces of passers-by.

"Who cares what they think?" Seiren muttered to Madeleine, sticking a rude finger at the next person whose gaze met hers. The man flushed and turned back to the front. "They're busybodies who have no idea what happened. Like that greasy old innkeeper in Iwade. They suck up to you if they know you're a mage, but when you have dirty secrets leaked, all they want to do is gossip, gossip, gossip."

"We shouldn't be here," whispered Madeleine, her voice trembling. "We're not welcome."

Seiren snorted. The seats around them filled, but those who recognised Seiren kept a wide berth. Just the way Seiren liked it. The hushed murmurs and furtive looks irritated her. It was just like back when she was a student again when the others whispered amongst each other about the weird high-achiever who had random outbursts and an unpleasant demeanour, but now there was fear.

It was an awesome feeling.

Madeleine fidgeted during the entire ceremony. It was painfully boring, watching the dean of the academy address the new graduates — a sea of white immediately before the stage — his crackly old voice amplified with a violet rune, musing about the duties required of the new probationary mages and the pressures soon to come and the images they must uphold as protectors of the peace and propagators of the future. Seiren's eyelids grew heavy and the cushy chair beneath her grew softer and warmer. The air was stagnant, muggy, and soon she found her attention wandering. She'd caught Kristen once when she'd least expected it, and now with her on the run, nobody was more suited to ensure her mother paid her dues than Seiren.

She could imagine it now: Karma demanding Hanna surrender Kristen, and Kristen being bundled to Acrise across the northern border where there would be a peaceful exchange, Karman mages on one side and Hannan summoners on the other, suspicious of each other but neither willing to fight. Especially when Hanna realised Kristen no longer could do magic, they would want nothing to do with her. The exchange could very well have happened already, with Kommora's connections and efficiency and the entire country's mages scouring for her. When she returned to Benover that evening, it was likely the news would have spread already about Kristen's capture and a new execution day organised.

When, at last, each student had made their way across the stage in their white graduate capes and received their certificates from the dean, Seiren breathed a sigh of relief. The torture was over.

"As mages, we have sworn to support the integrity and safety of Karma through all times. Without mages, Karma will become weak. Without mages, the people will suffer. We protect, we deliver justice, and we keep the country at her peak." The dean took a shuddering breath. Seiren half-expected the old fart to just keel over and die; he was so ancient. "Mages, new and current, I present to you King Bolliver Woodbead for a closing address."

Bolliver Woodbead strode across the stage, back straight and chest thrust forward, every bit the impressive and awe-inspiring leader. His numerous medals glistened upon the chest of his vomit-green uniform, reflecting the yellow runes above. His polished black boots tapped across the wooden stage and he stopped before the amplifying rune on a stand, staring at each of the graduates with those piercing, Woodbead blue-green eyes. Some of the graduates squirmed in their seats.

"Congratulations on your achievements, graduates," he said in his slow, deep voice. The rumbles reverberated through the hall. "You are about to embark on a long, arduous journey for the betterment of your countrymen. Becoming a state mage is a calling, not just a job. You will struggle. You will be pressured. You will be pushed to your extremes. And you must prevail. Your country depends on you. We are in even darker and more dangerous times than ever."

He paused. Beside Seiren, Madeleine hitched a breath, leaning forward.

"I am talking about, of course, the country-wide declaration issued yesterday by Mage Kommora Haigh. The person behind the murder of King Pollin, the release of monstrous creatures in Benover, and murder of tens of thousands of citizens in a genocidal rune, former king's mage Kristen Harred, has escaped her execution. She has not yet been caught."

Seiren's body froze.

A new wave of panicked whispers broke out across the audience. Some of the ones nearby glanced with wide eyes at Seiren and Madeleine, faces pale. Madeleine clapped her hands across her mouth. Seiren gripped the edge of her plush seat, leaning forward, eyes fixated on Bolliver, who paused to allow the ripples of murmurs run their course before clearing his throat and raising a hand. Silence settled.

"We have every available mage and soldier searching for her across the country. I am telling you this today, mages, because you will now also take up that duty. Kristen Harred is a dangerous individual, highly proficient in rune magic and deadly in combat. Should you encounter her, please inform the Council of Mages immediately and do not engage. You will follow state protocol regarding capturing dangerous individuals and protect the citizens first and foremost. You are our new protectors now. I wish you the best of fortune."

With that, Bolliver inclined his head and marched off stage, the long hem of his shirt flowing in the wake of his long strides. Even before the dean dismissed them, the crowd broke out in chatter. The fear was palpable. Most would have heard about the battle of Benover, lost loved ones who hadn't had time to evacuate, seen the depictions in the newspapers of the aftermath of the conflict. And Seiren became more and more aware of the accusatory eyes in her and Madeleine's directions. Madeleine's hand was soaking with sweat, her fingers trembling in Seiren's grip.

Seiren jumped up and dragged Madeleine out of the emergency exit at the top, giving no thought to the door slamming shut with a bang behind them.

"Oh runes, it's all our fault!" Madeleine's voice became shrill. She wrung her fingers, making her joints pop and Seiren wince. Striding forward and staring at the ground, she continued to mutter inaudibly under her breath.

"She escaped. We'll get her back. It's no big deal!"

"Kommora was so confident when she interrogated Jarsdel — I honestly expected her to be caught by now, but now—but now—"

"She'll be caught," Seiren said, shoving aside the uncertainty in the back of her mind. "It's not like we haven't caught her once before."

"But what if she succeeds? Or, no, not even succeeds — what if she did exactly the same as last time? We can't have another Benover!"

"No. We can't." Seiren caught Madeleine by the upper arm and spun her around. Madeleine's eyes glistened with unshed tears. A small bubble of blood sat on her bottom lip from where she'd bitten herself too hard. Seiren brushed back several strands of dark blonde hair that had come out of her sister's neat plait and tucked them behind her ears. "We'll go to Hanna and drag her out by her hair if we have to. I'll speak to Kommora. We can sign up for the team that goes into Hanna and we'll find her. If not for us, Kommora wouldn't have caught her when we were in the palace last time. She needs us. And there are two of us now — and you can do magic."

"We'll catch her?" Madeleine sounded doubtful. Seiren knew Madeleine was running through her head dozens of scenarios going wrong and knew the crippling self-doubt too well. Around them, people leaving the ceremony whispered amongst themselves as they left the academy.

"We have to. I'll wring her neck myself if I ha—"

"Murderers!"

The accusatory cry made Seiren jump. Standing just outside the stone walls of the academy, lining up on either side of the bridge, were groups of people holding up signs. 'Murderers', 'Heartless', 'Magic is Murder!' the words screamed. And those were the nicer ones. Some had gory paintings of people blasted apart by magic.

"My son was five!" cried the nearest woman, who had weeks of sleeplessness beneath her eyes and sunken cheeks. Desperate eyes glowed with a fire as she thrust a smiling, badly-drawn portrait of a young boy — likely she couldn't afford skilled artists for any pictures of her son. "We were just visiting my family for the day. He was meant to start school next month. He wanted to be a stonemason and make sturdy houses. Those monsters tore him apart!" Her voice cracked.

"Oh my runes," Madeleine whispered, horrified.

"My father was a healer!" said the man beside her in a grim, tight voice. "He stayed behind to help the injured citizens. Not everyone could flee the city hospital. The old and the injured were stuck in their beds. He stayed to make sure people didn't panic and weren't alone. The spell killed him and everyone in that hospital."

Madeleine's hand nearly crushed Seiren's. So many bereft, angry faces. So many needing to blame someone, anyone, for their grief. Seiren knew that feeling too well. Logic and explanations had no place here. There was only anger and destruction. The protesters shoved their signs in the graduates' and their families' faces, just short of pushing them physically, all the while yelling their grievances. The graduates shrank back, frightened. Seiren watched, stony-faced. It wasn't unexpected people would blame mages. After all, a mage had killed hundreds of people and almost toppled the country into war. And that mage had escaped, unscathed, and evaded capture for over a whole day now.

Seiren would fix it.

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