Paladin

On My Ninth Birthday, He Got Me A Locket

"I see you haven't been listening to me when I said to leave my sister alone," Aitor said beside her, as they took a water break.

"Unfortunately, your sister is quite attached to me," Illyria's shoulders sagged; dealing with the Princess on a daily basis was effort. "Actually, she's obsessed with me."

"You think very highly of yourself, don't you?" Was the Crown Princes's snarky reply.

Illyria didn't know how to retort so she picked up her history book and began to read, intent of figuring out a loophole.

The Zenith usually occurs during the time an individual reaches their eighteenth birthday, either the night before or the day itself. The ascent usually brings about sensations of elation and its main purpose is to enhance an individual's abilities. The Zenith is not guaranteed unless two individuals conceive a child after bonding.

Illyria skipped to Paragon's constitutions.

If a child is of royal descent, then they will undergo their Zenith. Two individuals from two royal families cannot bond or conceive a child together unless the world be subjected to unforeseen events...

Why are you reading that?" Aitor asked. "It's not part of the curriculum."

"Because its something I'm interested in."

After a short while, he said, "You're very strange, you know that?"

"There's no recorded deaths of anyone dying from their Zeniths," Illyria said, mostly to herself.

"That's because no one has ever died from their Zenith," Aitor said casually.

"I don't believe that. What if the parents didn't bond and they were of noble or royal? What if two royal people conceived a child together? What if someone's ascension goes wrong for whatever reason? What if-"

"What if-what if-what if?" Aitor carelessly disputed, rubbing his head with his free hand. "You make my head hurt, Illyria Montrose."

Illyria scowled, "You're the one who spoke to me. You know what? Next time don't open your mouth-"

"Perfectly fine with me."

***

Christopher Montrose adjusted the pillow under his youngest daughter's head and waited for her to wake up, 999 already type out on his phone. Her long lashes fluttered open and he sighed in relief.

"Are you okay?" He said gently, automatically reaching out to help her sit up comfortably.

She took a sip of the water that he offered to her lips before answering, "I will be. Just tired now. Did you remember to get my schoolwork this time?"

"Of course, I did," He ruffled her hair playfully and set her up with a bowl of soup before retreating downstairs.

"How is she?" His wife was a bundle of nerves and he took her into his arms, "Is she awake now?"

"She's fine," He soothed Aaliyah, smoothing her brown hair and kissing her hairline. "But this has gone on far enough. You know what we have to do."

She stiffened, pulling away, "I hope you're seriously not suggesting to go to your father. You know how I feel about him."

"He came through when France happened, didn't he?" Illyria's father was tired of the same old argument. "Sofia is getting worse by the day. She needs help."

"What she needs is us," Umma was stubborn. "We are her parents and we can get her better on our own."

"Aaliyah-"

"No, I was the one who was pregnant for nine months, who gave labour to our daughter and who lost-" Her voice broke.

"I know," Christopher felt his shoulders sag and she came back into his arms. "I miss him too."

***

"Do you know where you are, human girl?" An older guy, who had been in Callahan's class interrupted Illyria wondering around the amphitheater.

"People really need to start learning my name," Illyria muttered and turned to leave except the stranger wasn't done with her quite yet.

"Wait-you don't need to go. I'm Novak Garcia. Best friend of Aitor and sometimes babysitter of Lorna. Fulltime gossiper," Novak grinned, stopping his tinkering on the mangled piece of metal and making his way to where Illyria stood.

"You're the one who outed me to literally everyone," Illyria scowled.

"Guilty as charged," Novak's smile was contagious. "It's just really hard for me to keep a secret."

"I'll keep that in mind for future reference, excuse me," Illyria pressed her lips together.

"To make it up to you, you can come with me to Aitor's birthday party. I'm going to test my chariot prototype out...I know the kids here aren't the most welcoming at times and I didn't really fully think through it," Novak said kindly. "November seventh if you can make it. You can make a second impression."

"I thought you wanted to make it up to me, not torture me," Illyria said. "I can't think of anything worse than attending his birthday and having to stay at an event, full of people feeding his ego."

He shrugged, "Well the offer still stands if you change your mind. Just think about it, okay?"

"I don't have to think about it but thanks I guess."

***

"You know what you are?" Aitor dumped a box of scrolls that dated back to Ancient Greece in front of her and Illyria began sifting through it.

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"A snake charmer," He announced. "A manipulative, controlling person who somehow has got everyone close to me either not speaking to me, thinking that I somehow misjudged you or that I wasn't justified to agree with Damien that you were being a bitch."

"Hmm, maybe that's because you weren't justified to call me a bitch and all that other stuff," Illyria began slipping the scrolls into their cases. "I wasn't actually listening to everything you said, don't hold it against me."

"Everyone else is blind to who you are but I know something is off about you," Aitor took the scrolls and slotted them into their designated places.

"This is the part when you explain yourself because I have no idea what you're talking about," Illyria said.

"You somehow got to be my best friends plus one to my birthday and he invited you when he knows exactly feel about you," Aitor eyed her suspiciously. "He always goes to events alone."

"He knows you're obsessed with me. Relax. Of course, I'm not coming to your birthday party," Illyria rolled her eyes.

"I'm not obsessed with you. I just have my eyes open unlike everyone else," Aitor narrowed his eyes. "And...you're not coming?"

"Of course, I'm not coming," Illyria said slowly. "Your birthday is a celebration is a celebration of you and why would I want to do that? It might surprise you but not everyone kisses the ground you walk on."

"No, but people do come to my parties to have a good time," Aitor said. "Do you know what that is?"

"Aren't you glad I'm not coming?" Illyria side eyed him. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Obviously," Aitor scoffed. "I'm just making sure. Don't get it twisted."