Chapter Three: Mail Call

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Sometime later, Thepa returned to her office alone. Still in her sweaty training clothes, she examined her skin closely, searching for any trace of the fire that had covered her body. Hands, nails, horns—nothing seemed amiss. Even her hooves, which she had been certain sent off sparks against the pavement, appeared as clean as they had after her bath the previous day. The only odd thing she noticed was that they weren't as dirty as they should have been.

When she came up empty, she sat at her desk, unsure what to do about what had happened, allowing her thoughts to mull it over.

"Are you an elemental?" Aldermoon asked her on the way down from the wall.

"No," Thepa responded, desperate to escape. Of course, she wasn't an elemental...was she? No, that was silly. She didn't become fire; she was on fire. But maybe that was the first step. Surely she would have noticed before today? Even stranger, unlike her foster brother and sister, Thepa had never shown signs of magic. From what she understood, it normally happened at a young age.

"Then what—" she started to say, but Thepa cut her off, quite rudely now that she thought about it.

"I said I don't know."

That was the end of that. Frustrated, Thepa hurried back into the barracks, ignoring anyone else who crossed her path. When she calmed down, she thought she might go back and apologize to Aldermoon. For now, she turned to her mail, studying the pack of letters.

On top of the stack lay a letter from the palace. It was rare for Thepa to receive such correspondence; usually, her orders came directly from the Royal Guard. When a letter did arrive, it was typically an invitation to a party or ball, but grand events were scheduled weeks or even months in advance. Intrigued, she carefully opened the golden envelope to find it was from the Archduke himself.

Captain Fox,

A delegation of the nations will convene tomorrow. I suspect your presence will be necessary. Two delegates will arrive from Wildehaven. Please make yourself available to them when the boat arrives tomorrow morning.

Leoxidor

Thepa winched. The idea of a delegation of the nations intrigued her, never having been a part of one, but the thought of who she might have to escort worried her. If Wildehaven was going to send delegates, she assumed it would be among the four guild leaders. If she were lucky, one of them might be her former instructor, Minister Goodshadow.

Like all halflings, Goodshadow was a jolly Youngling of the Trees. She liked the man, who had taught her how to track, but he took very little seriously. In her training, she learned to take everything he said with a grain of salt.

One time, early in Thepa's training, she caught the minister with a group of students in the hall, leading a shanty, off-key. He invited her to join, but she politely declined. Her refusal earned her a peculiar look and a statement that left her feeling subconscious as she walked away: "Don't be so serious. Study hard, party harder." Later that night, Thepa saw Goodshadow pass out in the hall. There, she vowed that if she ever became a leader, she would be careful about how she presented herself around others.

Still, Thepa mused. If Goodshadow is one of the delegates, that leaves just one more. Mistress Verola and Minister Deephallow aren't so bad, but if it's Deeprabbit... Oh, El, please don't let it be Deeprabbit.

Of the four ministry leaders, Thepa feared Deeprabbit the most. It wasn't as if she saw Deeprabbit as a bad person, but the woman almost expelled her and Rory from school over one of Rory's reckless schemes. Of course, they had been caught, and at the military school, that meant she and Rory both received a beating. 

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