The Acolyte & The Alchemist Part II
Despite how swiftly the boy with raven hair had fallen for the girl, he did not act on his feelings for a very long time.
It would have been improper, and besides, he had no interest in facing the inevitable sting of rejection.
He held neither title nor status to secure a match, and that was not why he had come to study at the most prestigious Conservatory on the continent.
And so, he engaged with her the only way he knew how: as a rival.
They sparred relentlessly in academic debate, each determined to outwit the other.
Their manuscripts competed for the Council’s praise, and at mealtimes, he pointedly ignored the weight of her knowing gaze, throwing himself instead into discussion with his peers.
He spoke at length of mythological Christianity, the transition from polytheism to monotheism—anything to keep his mind occupied, anything to keep from looking at her for too long.
One evening, as he scribbled furiously in his dormitory, a knock sounded at the door. His quill snapped in half. He cursed under his breath and rose, irritation simmering beneath his skin.
When he opened the door, Hamra stood on the threshold, a fresh pen in her hand.
“I had a feeling you’d need one of these,” she said, amusement flickering in her dark eyes. “You’re in the habit of breaking them. I ought to call you the Quill Killer.”
His brows knit together. “How did you—”
She smirked, pushing past him into the room as if she belonged there.
“Fine, Quill for short,” she declared. “I’d like to broker a deal. You take this fountain pen, and in return, you’ll assist me with a research project. We can call it a collaboration if you like, though I’ll be first author. I don’t believe in any of that co-first nonsense.”
She twirled the pen between her fingers. “While, at first glance, this may not seem a fair trade, you’ll find the pen to be of the highest, furious-scribbling-proof quality. And, of course, you’ll have the added delight of my company.”
Quill sank back into his chair, not knowing what else to do with himself. His mind scrambled for something clever to say, but he could only watch as she spoke, commanding the space with effortless ease.
She leaned against the desk, tilting her head. “Well?” Her smirk erupted into a full, brilliant smile.