Regicide [ORIGINAL SERIES]

15. Academy's Return Arc.

Beginner's Luck.

December 18th, 1856.
11PM.
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A stormy night, the air thick with the scent of rain, Amy served herself a humble supper of fish and salted meat. She settled into her chair at the timeworn dining table, the flicker of candlelight casting shadows that danced upon the walls. As she took slow, thoughtful bites, Amy endeavored to contemplate the uncertain paths that lay before her. Yet the storm's howl muddled her thoughts as effectively as the mist obscured the moon.

With a final, deliberate swallow, she rose and carried her plate to the dishwasher. This was no modern convenience but a wooden contraption, ingeniously crafted with a hand-cranked wheel that splashed water and activated scrubbers against the soiled dishes-a marvel of the era, rough-hewn but effective.

The stormy weather echoed Amy's resolve; she had no plans to sleep tonight. A persistent leak in the roof caught her attention, a nagging reminder of her crumbling abode.

With the prospect of all students being moved to academy dorms tomorrow, she pondered the necessity of a repair. Yet, as darkness enveloped the sky, she dismissed the idea. Venturing out into the night streets of Snezhalm was far too risky, especially with the crime rate having surged alarmingly. She would have to endure the drip for one more night.

Friday, December 19th, 1856
4:30AM.
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Amy had spent the whole night spilling her thoughts onto the worn pages of her journal, her pen tracing lines of worries and wonders with no possible solutions.

As dawn broke, she set aside her journal and donned her school attire. Unlike most of her peers at Snezhalm Academy, who were disobedient towards the dress code and never wore them, Amy clung to it meticulously. Only a handful of students chose to wear the uniform, setting her apart in a crowd of rebellion.

Stepping out into the streets, it was still raining. Amy made her way across the asphalt. Amidst the muted colors of a rainy morning, a vivid streak of red caught her eye-a familiar figure, draped in a distinctive coat. It was Nora, Nora Monique, the senior who had once warned Amy about Nana, secrets that now seemed lost to everyone but Amy, since that.. thing's existence was wiped out of everyone's memories except for hers.

Treading carefully on the wet ground, Amy reached out and gently touched Nora's shoulder. "Nora," she whispered, her voice barely louder than the rain.

Nora turned, her expression unreadable, but a faint smile hinted at recognition as she met Amy's gaze.

"Hello, Amy. It's been a while since we last spoke, even though we're in the same district," Nora greeted her, the subtle intensity of her crimson eyes both captivating and a touch unsettling.

"Having to walk an hour to school every day is truly tiresome," Amy complained, adjusting her pace to match Nora's as they made their way forward through the steady drizzle.