144 - Deflect

The dean did not walk far.

He only took a few steps out of his office and stood in front of a brick-layered wall that was fairly unremarkable. It wasn't until he waved his hand and muttered a spell that something happened.

The Luxa orbs floated out of the wall, broken circles within circles that turned and turned until the hedges aligned. Then the wall began to shift back and outwards, revealing a hidden room that looked to be a parlor. There was a leather hard-backed seat in front of a fireplace, where a painting with an ornate frame was mounted. The walls were checkered burgundy, and a tray with an eastern pot and spoons was lined up in front of a bookshelf.

"Would you like some tea?" the dean asked, and she shook her head. Arielle was wondering what this place was and why it was hidden. It looked like a regular parlor, but there had to be a reason the dean kept it under a magic seal.

A seal she had now witnessed and knew how to break, which meant she could possibly access the room whenever she wanted.

The dean gave her a knowing look, almost as though he could read her thoughts.

Arielle met his gaze and guiltily looked away.

He stepped forward, calling forth a cabinet from another empty wall. “I told you about my brother, did I not?”

“Yes.” Dean Octavius had a weakness for his brother, Romalus, who was obsessed with power.

"I believe I also began telling you about the day he came to the Luxarium, under the guise of visiting me. I think it's time I get to the end of that story."

The dean snapped his fingers, and the seat shifted back and turned toward Arielle. She sat down, and the dean continued to speak while standing. “After Romalus visited the Luxarium, something went missing. A spellbook that contained the memories of a powerful sorcerer that my brother was trying to emulate.”

“I thought there was an incident where all the memories at the Luxarium got corrupted by those of another powerful sorcerer," Ari said. "Is this after that happened?”

“Yes, and this concerns a different powerful mage. After that incident, we had to start splitting up memories and storing them in splinters rather than one continuous strain, and within artifacts like books or pendants."

"Does splitting up a memory weaken it?"

"Yes. You see, the problem with storing full memories is that they retain a sense of identity, and that identity is stronger the longer they remember. They can then retain enough knowledge of magic to run haywire and corrupt the minds of those around them. It is also difficult to analyze them, which can lead to memory problems in anyone but the most well-trained truthseekers."

"Interesting." Arielle thought about Vittoria and how she had spent most of the week sifting through memories of the ones who tried to kill the dragon.

Was it causing her any problems doing that? It didn't seem like it. She was not a trained truthseeker, so how was she doing it so easily? Or was there an element to the dragon pearl that made it less likely for Vittoria's mind to be corrupted?

She decided to ask her later, as the dean continued with his story.

"We learned of the missing item two days after Romulus was gone. He left behind a very convincing decoy which he had spent a long time crafting. He's excellent at illusions and fakes, but the decoy ultimately disappeared, which was what alerted us." The dean opened the cabinet that he'd brought forward, revealing another safe. "After he stole it, an alarm was raised. No one knew what had happened, just that the book was missing. It was difficult to tell exactly when it was taken. Our security system had been compromised, and too many people had been to the Luxarium in that period. There were no signifiers that had been left behind, except for remnants of his spell, which wasn't enough to identify him. But I knew he was the one who had taken the spellbook, despite having no evidence yet. I knew that he was likely going to use it for something risky and stupid. Yet, I still couldn’t turn him in. I knew stealing from the Luxarium would have carried a harsh sentence for someone like him.” He sighed. “So, I thought I would just find him on my own, get the item back, and make sure he never does anything like that again. Now I didn’t have a clear idea of how I was going to achieve that final part, but finding him was easy enough, at least for me. As I said, I knew my brother like the back of my hand, including knowing where he would hide. And I knew what he planned to do next."

The dean's expression shifted slightly as he opened the safe and brought out a thick book, which he handed over to Arielle. It looked to be a picture book.

"After a long fight and even longer conversation, I took the spellbook from him and made him swear on our mother's grave that he would never do it again. He assured me that he wouldn't. So I returned it, took the blame for its misplacement, and lost my job. Yet I did not give him up, even while being tried myself. I told them it was me who took it. I covered for him, and it took every amount of goodwill I'd earned from some very powerful people for me to avoid imprisonment. I did it all because he told me he would never do anything like that again."

On the first page of the book the dean gave her, Arielle saw pictures of a younger Dean Octavius and a man who looked like him, except shorter, lankier, with curlier hair. He had a charming smile, wore thick spectacles, and did not look at all like a mastermind who would sneak into the Luxarium and steal a spellbook.

He looked like an innocent, well-meaning man.

"It was a lie,” Dean Octavius said. “His promise to never do anything like it again was a bald-faced lie, and I should have known better. It wasn't the first time my brother lied to me. It wasn't even the tenth. But this time, I took precautions. I kept magical tags on him that would alert me of his movement. I hired a spy to let me know if he ever left town and to make sure he went to his sessions every week to deal with his addiction. I kept my ears open for any and every disaster within miles of where he lived, just so I would be the first to show up if it was him. I went through all that trouble, and yet once more, clever Romalus eluded me. He snuck away and got involved in yet another magical experiment that devastated an entire community. Have you heard of the Lovation Disaster?"

"The unstoppable tornado?" Arielle asked. She had read about it in a storybook her sister had brought back from the Western nation of Lova.

"Yes." The dean gave her a grim smile. "That was my brother's handiwork. With that, he earned himself an imprisonment which was lengthened when, during his trial, it was revealed that he stole the spellbook, not me, and my true crime was covering for him. He got a suppression and many decades in prison that he ultimately did not survive. Still, it took me nearly a century to re-earn the trust of the ascendant community. It took me even longer to begin to forgive myself. It was my fault that he had not been caught the first time, and because of that more people had gotten hurt and died. And you know what the most painful part of it was?"

“What?”

“That it could probably all have been avoided,” he said. “If I had reported what I knew, if I hadn't been a coward, both of us could have avoided the pain."

“I don’t see what cowardice has to do with it.” The dean had lost his job to protect his brother. In many ways, that was brave.

“Don’t you?” The dean turned on his heel, facing her fully. “Do you think I was doing my brother any favors by letting him continue down the path he was going?"

"I don't think you let him do it," Arielle said. "You did what you could to stop him."

"No. I did what I wanted to do, what would give me the illusion of control. Do you think I truly thought he would change? Do you think that I thought there was no way for him to escape my tabs? Or did I simply choose the easier path?"

"Easier?" It was hard to describe the path of hunting down one’s brother, constantly monitoring them, hiding their misdeeds, and losing a lucrative career and stellar reputation as easier. In fact, it involved far more work than simply turning him in.

At the same time, Arielle could picture the situation, had it been Celie or Brom. Could she turn them into the authorities to face their fate, if she knew it might end in their deaths?

Ari shuddered.

No. That would undoubtedly be the harder choice.

“We lost our parents young,” the dean continued, as he stared down at the picture in Arielle's lap wistfully. “It had always been just the two of us, so I felt a responsibility towards him, despite him being older. And I thought being responsible for him meant covering up his inadequacies instead of letting him pay for them. As a result, we were both worse off."

Arielle avoided the pain in the dean's gaze, looking down. She ran her finger down the page. Obviously, this was a photobook he had gone through multiple times. It was worn, the sides were dog-eared. She wondered how many times the dean had gone through these pictures.

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"So you're alone now," she murmured.

"I wouldn't say that," he said. "I have my students after all, and the rest of the faculty who I'm responsible for. Sometimes I think about if Romalus was still alive, if ultimately I had been forced to choose between him and my students, I wonder if I could have made the right choice."

"So you think the right choice would have been turning him into the authorities?"

"In hindsight, yes," the dean said. "But at the same time, it may not have been."

Arielle cocked her head. "I don't understand."

"There could have been a scenario where my choice of letting Romulus go was the correct one," he said. "This just wasn't that scenario. You see, I'm not a man who thinks all laws are correct, and that abiding by our justice system is the honorable move all the time. Right and wrong aren’t always written out in clear rules, as the world is too messy and complicated for that. Which is why, despite not knowing how your powers came to be, I have chosen to hide them."

The dean smiled, and Arielle swallowed, troubled and more than a little confused.

He kept going. "If my brother had more of a capacity to change, it would have been a different thing. I would not have regretted my sacrifice and would have lived happily knowing he was cured. However, in this specific scenario, letting him go was a mistake, and a lack of proper punishment early on made him worse off than otherwise."

Arielle pursed her lips, nodding slowly.

"I was lucky to get a second chance to make up for what I did," the dean continued. "Yet I had to live with the consequences of a sin that was originally not mine. He has moved on to wherever souls go when they die, yet I am here, still paying for it. All this to say, Ari, that you are not responsible for anyone else's crime. But your response to it matters, and whatever choice you make will be something you live with for a long time. Think carefully about whether this friend of yours would be better off if their parents never faced an early punishment. Think about if the world would be better off if someone who had committed their crimes ran around committing more. And bear the responsibility for whatever choice you make."

He held out his hand for the photobook, and Arielle slowly handed it back. The dean had answered her question, but not in the way she had wanted. It hadn't given her absolution or certainty.

Merely given her more to think about.

Would Riorke be better off if she hid that his parents consorted with demons? Would the world be better off?

Probably not.

It was the hard choice, but it was probably the right one. She sighed and stood up.

"Has that cleared things up for you?" Dean Octavius asked.

"I guess," she said.

“Good,” he said. “Now I would appreciate it if you kept this room a secret from everyone. I don’t really want its existence advertised."

“Okay," Arielle said. “But if it's a secret, why would you bring me here? You could have told me the story and made your point even without showing me this room.”

“I believed it would be more evocative this way,” he said. “Besides, you’ve already trusted me with quite a few of your secrets. I think it’s only fair that I trust you with mine.” He winked and held her gaze. “Who knows? One day, you might need them."

“Need them for what?”

“I guess you’ll know if it happens." The dean said. She thought that perhaps there was something more he wanted to say, or perhaps something he wanted her to say, but they both remained silent for that beat.

“Alright,” the dean said as he directed her back out and towards his office, reactivating the seal behind him. “Now, let’s discuss the ball.”

“Do I need etiquette lessons?”

“Perhaps,” the dean said, closing his office door behind them and pulling out their seats. “Although I think Lord Wesley is already aware of your unique background, so I don’t think that’s the thing we need to focus on right now. What I’m going to teach you today is the art of deflection.”

“I know what that is.” Deflection had been mentioned in How to Charm Kings.

“Yes, but I’m going to tell you how it works in practice,” he said. They both sat, the dean before Arielle. “We all know that you are a terrible liar, Arielle, so avoid lying outright as much as you can. Instead, I want you to deflect from the things you may not necessarily want to answer, and you do this by artfully bringing up a topic that is suitably interesting enough to distract your conversation partner until they forget what they were asking in the first place. Do you understand?"

“Yes, but how do I know what topic they might find interesting?”

"Good question. Now, remember how I told you to watch people to evaluate who they are at their heart, and what they want.”

Arielle nodded.

“Do this at this event. Talk less and observe more. You're going to have to do this faster than normal, but pick the three most important details you gather from them at a first glance and then use that to log information. Once you have the information, you can form conclusions."

Arielle bit her lip. That sounded difficult and vague. How would she tell what the most important details were? "Is there a spell for that?"

Dean Octavius smiled indulgently. "Maybe, but I'm going to teach you without the spell first. As I told you before, some of those mages can tell when you're casting a spell on them, so it's better to do it without. But I will tell you a few things about some of the more prominent guests in our next session, which might help you."

Arielle bobbed her head. It was a relief that she would be going in with some knowledge at least.

"Something to note–bringing up an unrelated topic in the middle of a conversation can strike people as odd or rude. But better they think you’re odd than they think you’re hiding something.”

Arielle would rather do neither of those options, but it did not seem like she had a choice here.

“Good. Let’s practice.”

Ari sat up as she readied herself.

“I’m going to ask you a question that you may find uncomfortable, and the key is not to react and to deflect instead." The dean folded his hands on the desk. "Now tell me, what were you and Vittoria truly up to this break?”

Arielle involuntarily gulped at the question.

Though she should have expected it, it still hit her with an instinctive panic, as her mind immediately raced to all the things that she and Vittoria had done, which could spell danger if the dean found out about them.

Then she recalled the point of the assignment. Deflect to something he cared about.

“Would you like to tell me about your criminal brother again?” Arielle asked.

The dean paused, then he burst out laughing.

The laughter was loud and cackling, and Arielle's face heated up as she waited for it to subside.

“Well,” Dean Octavius said as he wiped his tears. “I can see we have a lot to work on.”

Which was what they did for the rest of the session. Arielle learned that there were ways to 'soften the switch,' as the dean explained, by saying things like, "Sorry, dear, but I was just wondering about..." and "I just need to say that I'm very curious about...".

She was also to avoid topics that were sensitive and stick to things like potential hobbies or fashion, pointing out items of clothing that she found interesting or beautiful. Most importantly, she had to learn how to dull her initial reactions, which involved her eye flare and rapid eyeball movement.

She practiced in front of a magical mirror that the dean summoned until her reactions were no longer as pronounced.

Not that they were very pronounced in the first place, but her facial expressions were typically flat, so any variance felt like a huge change.

The dean also gave her a spell she could use to artificially still her facial expressions, in case she needed it.

After she was done with the nearly three-hour session, she went back to Vittoria’s home to find Vittoria in her room, eating.

“How did it go?” Vittoria asked.

“Okay,” Arielle responded.

"Good," Vittoria wiped her mouth with a napkin and signaled for Arielle to close the door of her bedroom behind her.

Once she did, Vittoria used her magic lights to reconstruct a compound.

"This is the Camhanach castle," Vittoria said. "They don’t really have much in terms of magical traps, and the few they do have will be easy enough to bypass. What they do have, though, is advanced perception. All their knights are trained to detect intruders, even invisible ones like you, and they're especially sensitive to magic, with several magic detectors underground. So you’ll have to watch for that.”

Vittoria traced a line through the path through the compound, ending right in front of a window. "This is the least guarded path," Vittoria said. “And it’s the path you will follow. The thing to watch out for is the testing ground right here," She drew an X on it, "And the dungeons underneath. But you're going to avoid all that and float right up through these windows."

“Wouldn’t it be easier if I teleported into wherever the safe is instead?”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Vittoria said. “Magic detectors make it risky. And another thing: heat signatures. Some of the Knights are trained in recognizing heat signatures. It’s hard to hide your body heat from them for long, so avoid calling attention to yourself."

“Okay.”

“The safe should be in Lord Camhanach's study behind his bookshelf. You'll have to soundproof the room and make sure everything is the same once you're done."

“Okay.”

“Now I have to ask, because it’s you," she leaned forward. “Is there anything you plan to do that we haven't added to our itinerary? Any detours? Tell me now, so I know."

Arielle bit her lip.

She tried to control her expression and deflect. What was something Vittoria cared about? Something that wasn't a sensitive topic but that Vittoria would be interested in.

It came to her in a flash.

"I've been wondering," she said carefully. "Did you know that reading long memories could corrupt your brain?"

"What?"

"The dean said it could corrupt your brain. I was wondering if you knew, because you've been reading the memories in the dragon pearl and I haven't noticed any difference."

"Well, the dragon pearl is different."

"Tell me how."

"First of all, the memories in it are splintered and non-chronological. I can sort through and call forth whatever I want from it. Additionally, the pearl traps the memories and keeps them from exuding any magic. They do not form a sense of identity."

"I see." Arielle grinned, celebrating internally that she had succeeded in distracting Vittoria and found out information about dragon pearls.

Vittoria narrowed her eyes. “Arielle.”

"Yes?" Arielle said.

"Did you just try to distract me?"

Arielle's smile dropped.

"Yes," she admitted weakly.

"You sneaky imp." Vittoria snorted. "Although that wasn't half bad. You get a gold star for effort. Now, tell me. What's your plan?"