euphridia
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Book 4 Chapter 35: Have Your Cake (Because You Can’t Take It With You)
🕑 Added 2025-07-15 22:23:53 +0000 UTCNora adjusted her robes several times as Master Landon continued shouting for Headmaster Jasper, his voice growing more exasperated with every call.
“Like I was saying…” she murmured with a nervous chuckle, folding her arms. “Can’t even seem to find the mute button…”
“We’re not going to give him an update?” I asked with a frown.
Nora shook her head. “I’d love to tell him about my promotion, but after thinking about it… It’s probably the worst thing we could do. Master Landon would feel obligated to tell Captain Corwin, and Captain Corwin would immediately send troops this way. That would put any demon spy with half a brain on alert about our possible whereabouts…”
“Headmaster Jasper! Respond at once!” Master Landon’s voice thundered again.
“How distracting.” Oliver stretched, his horns and tail retracting smoothly. “Nora, did you find Councilman Vetus’s staff?”
“Yes. It was in his private quarters. It’s locked up in my office for now.”
“Then we have everything we need from here. Just shatter the orb and be done with it.” Oliver shrugged. “Master Landon won’t be able to persuade the Order of Blue to investigate anything here, and he’ll be left with far slower means of reconnaissance. By the time he’s made aware of what’s happened here, we’ll be long gone.”
“Isn’t it dangerous to cut off all communication for everyone here, though?” I asked. “Can’t we just… fix it so it’s in listen-only mode?”
“Listen-only?” Oliver considered my request for a moment, his head tilting back and forth. “Master Landon will likely stop trying to communicate if he gets no response… Unless…”
Relias narrowed his eyes. “Unless what?”
Oliver grinned, his expression sharpening before dissolving into black vapor. His shadows twisted around an unseen center, condensing into Headmaster Jasper’s stout, scowling form. “Unless we remind Master Landon how incompetent Headmaster Jasper is. I’m sure it will put him at some ease, knowing there are still constants in the world.”
“That shouldn’t be hard,” Nora noted.
Oliver cleared his throat several times as he adopted Jasper’s blustery cadence. “Let me do the talking.”
Nora reached into her cape, pulled out the glowing green orb, and handed it over. “I’m trusting you not to screw this up.”
“I’m simply awed by your trust…” he drawled, sounding once again like himself despite wearing another man’s face.
Yeesh. That combination just does not work.
Oliver twisted the orb between his pudgy hands, a small crack forming in its depths. “M-master Landon… is that… you?”
“Jasper? Jasper, can you hear me?” Master Landon shouted, his face appearing fractured on the orb’s surface. “There’s a lot of static on your end!”
Oliver leaned into the orb, mumbling in fits and starts: “I hear you but… —crack… waiting on—emerald… fortnights.”
“How many fortnights for a new emerald core?!” Master Landon demanded. “And what happened to all the others?!”
“…alchemy… experiments…”
“I kept telling you true alchemy never pays for itself. When will you get it through your thick skull?!” Master Landon inhaled sharply. “As I have been trying to tell you—”
“High alert. All—sealed.” Oliver shook the orb deliberately. “Widening!”
“Goddess almighty, stop touching it! Leave it on your desk and pay attention to further instructions. And get someone else to fix it when the components are ready!”
“—Landon,” Oliver concluded coolly as the orb dimmed.
For a moment, the room was silent.
“Well?” he asked, looking up.
“He took your performance at face value,” I murmured. “But I just have to wonder how he became headmaster in the first place.”
“No one else wanted to fill Master Landon’s shoes,” Nora replied as Oliver reclaimed his standard snake hybrid form. “He was the only one who applied.”
Oliver slid a dark, misty hand across the orb, sealing the fissures shut. “Master Landon will only hear occasional static, should anyone attempt to respond through it. That will be enough to prompt him into sharing information with any of your designees.”
Nora reclaimed the orb and tucked it back into her cape pocket. “I have a few things to finish up tonight, but I can hand everything over first thing in the morning.” She flicked her gaze at Relias. “You found the exit portal we want, right?”
“Thanks to the schematics you uncovered, yes. But before we leave…” Relias turned stiffly to Oliver. “I wish to speak with these reformed demons you’ve gathered. The Captain and I—”
“That wish won’t be granted,” Oliver cut in smoothly. “One of my promises to them was keeping both of you from interacting with them at all.” He folded his arms, eyes narrowing. “And they’re not reformed. They’re the same as ever. Some have been here since the beginning. They just change forms every few decades, purely for their colleagues’ sanity.”
“How many of them are your progeny?” Nora asked abruptly.
“What gives you the impression I have progeny?”
Nora cocked her head, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. “Well, the other lords do… Hmm.” She frowned, tapping her lip. “Oh yeah. How old are you?”
“Go on,” Oliver urged, his voice smooth but with a slight edge. “Ask one more inappropriate question.”
“Why do you keep your eyes closed so much? Is it an affectation or—”
“Hazelnuts!” I shouted. “I left the hazelnuts back in the hall!”
“Food distractions only work on you,” Nora said with a sigh. “But I’ll withdraw them for now.”
“Um… Maybe we could all… uh...”
Just get along for a little bit?
Oliver started to seep into the floor. “I have my own affairs to attend to. I will regroup with you later.”
We watched as he disappeared. While Relias shuddered in response, Nora gave me a flinty pout.
What? I'm a little impressed… I’d love to be able to disappear into a floor sometimes!
“Um, so what should I do now?” I asked, feeling a bit out of the loop. “I could, um…”
“Relax a little?” Nora suggested. “Catch up on some sleep?”
“Don’t you want to show off your new office?”
Nora scowled slightly. “It’s not exactly what I was expecting. No traps, no hidden spell circles, nothing! Just stacks of paperwork and half-finished reports. And I’m supposed to meet with the new committee soon to figure out who is going to do what, so…”
I turned to Relias. “Don’t you need me to do something?”
Relias offered a faint but rather solemn smile. “You are welcome to remain here in the sanctuary while I offer prayers to Holy Euphridia. However, I would excuse you if you would promise instead to devote the time to quiet self-reflection.” He paused, clearing his throat. “I would not dare claim that sanctification prayers are tedious… but, admittedly, there is little opportunity for meaningful involvement during the first few hours.”
Hours?!
“Oh… That’s very kind of you, yes. I should… Take some time for myself…”
And for the first time in what felt like ages, I wasn’t at the center of anything. Even the hazelnuts didn’t inspire Raedine to chat with me. They didn’t have much to say for themselves either, except to remind me that they were better as a spread than a stand-alone snack.
For the most part, I was ignored by the dark mages as I slowly passed through the sloping halls. While I didn’t sense any hostility from them, I also didn’t get the same sense of reverence I’d felt with the other Orders. I might have been a celebrity of sorts, but probably not even in their top ten. At best, I would get an occasional bob of a hooded head in passing, and at worst, a strange look for trying to get into an area that wasn’t exactly open to the general public. It felt good to wander for a bit, though; my unrushed steps filled me with cautious optimism.
Is this… what it feels like when something you did… starts to work in your favor?
I’m not in charge of anything specific right now…
Sure, the team was, uh, storming, but there might be some norming in there, too.
No one had screamed at anyone else in over twenty-four hours.
I hadn’t even been asked to explain myself.
We were finally all for fixing Naught!
“No…” I sighed as I entered my room. “It’s way too soon to celebrate—”
There, in the center of a small table, sat an entire cake. It was absurdly and anachronistically perfect, with bright pink frosting piped in tiny, intricate rosettes and a neat line of silver sugar pearls circling its base.
Did I pass out again?
I looked at the basket of hazelnuts in my hands, suddenly feeling unimpressed.
“This has to be a trap,” I muttered, inspecting the cake.
“No. Simply payment for services rendered,” Oliver’s voice drifted from behind me.
I whirled around. “Services rendered?”
“It is customary to repay debts,” he replied in a maddeningly circular fashion.
“Again, what services?” A nearby fork had somehow made its way into my grip.
Oliver turned away. “Services equivalent to the cake in front of you.”
Not knowing the specific occasion made it hard to accept. “I should probably share this with—”
“It would be a dreadful insult to custom, having a human share a gift from the demon king.”
“You said it was a payment.”
Oliver set his teeth. “I misspoke. Remittance! Regardless, do not insult the custom.”
“You’re telling me there’s precedent for that?”
Oliver waved a dismissive hand. “We’re establishing it now. That cake is for you alone.”
“You… don’t want any either? I mean, there’s no way I can finish it myself.”
Well, I technically could, but he doesn’t need to know that.
Oliver regarded the cake with a single emerald eye. “And we’re leaving for Northern Turri tomorrow, so you can’t exactly take it with you.” With a theatrical sigh, he pulled out a chair and sat. “Even if I gain no nourishment from it, I’d rather not see what happens if I waste food in front of you for a third time today.”
Comments
rhekke
There is always a reason for Cake, for Cake is it's own reason.
Euphridia
(Sometimes we just need cake for no specific reason.)
