Being incapable of unlocking lapiloquia irritated Agatha to no end, especially because she didn’t know if she would even be good at it after dedicating this much effort to it. The only thing that kept her sane was that most people hadn’t unlocked it either after a whole year of training. Alas, she had more important things to worry about.

  “Is it not crazy that we do not have a final exam?” Shayla murmured as they all sat around the table in the library.

  “What are you talking about?” Mateo squinted at her. “We have final exams.”

  “Yes, yes. But I meant like a final final exam,” she emphasized.

  “I am with Shayla here,” Agatha joined the conversation. “I understand that some things happened last year, but it seems a bit excessive not to have an Agatecraft final exam this year. It is prime learning time!”

  If there was something Agatha had learned, it was that she thrived in chaos and danger. Her latest growth in Stratum was a sign of that. While she was never going to throw herself voluntarily at the depths, there was virtue in that. If the stakes were high, the petite girl felt like she could give her two hundred percent. Going far further beyond than what she could usually do.

  And the fact that Teacher Dago announced that there wouldn’t be a final Agatecraft exam spar on all of that.

  “A bit of an understatement. Do you not think so, mock sapphire?” The last member of the study group joined the conversation. In this case, a gorgeous redhead. “You almost died.”

  “But I did not,” Agatha easily dismissed it.

  So easily, in fact, that it scared her. By all means and accounts, it had been a near-death experience to her, yet now it meant nothing to her. Is it because the event has been overshadowed by the start of our relationship or because my will is that strong? Agatha didn’t have the answer to that question, but she certainly knew that she wouldn’t want to die now. That would mean she wouldn’t be able to spend more time with Christie, after all.

  The nouveau riche sighed in exasperation. “You truly are a mock sapphire.”

  “Well,” the villager pouted, “and you are a dummy doll!”

  The Intaksolfani squinted at them, but the scholarite simply facepalmed and continued reviewing the contents of the exams. Agatha couldn’t say she was as worried as she had once been, for being literate helped a lot. Physics and calculus were hard, yes, but they had so much free time in the academy that passing the exams was trivial if one just put their mind to studying. In that sense, Agatha couldn’t understand how someone could even fail the exams. It was as simple as alternating training the body with lapiloquia and training the mind with academics.

  Yet it would appear that wasn’t what was in Shayla’s mind as she continued squinting until she finally put her abacus down.

  “I have noticed that you have nicknames for each other,” the dark-skinned girl said. “Well, I have had them for a while.”

  “Yes?” Christie tilted her head in confusion at the question. “Is there an issue with that?”

  “No,” Shayla swayed her head. “Not at all. It is just that your nicknames are more playful than the ones I am used to. They normally tend to be more derisive, like callsigns.”

  “Well, I would not like to be derisive with Agatha. We have been roommates for two years now.”

  “Some would say that is more than reason enough to be derisive…” The well-built girl muttered under her breath. “But,” she raised her voice, “are you both not tired of sharing rooms?”

  “No?” “Nope,” the redhead and dirty-blond girl said at the same time, although with slightly different wording and tone.

  “You are certainly stronger than I in that sense,” Shayla rolled her eyes and then let out a groan as she stretched her arms. “I think this is enough studying. The contents of this year were far lighter on the mind, perhaps to account for the added time dedicated to lapiloquia, so I would rather not waste more of my brain’s capacity until the exam period starts.” She then pushed her chair backward and stood up.

  Something Agatha had noticed was that Shayla was always the first one to remove herself from the study group, and more often than not, the one who marked the end of the session. Agatha didn’t have many friends, not because she wasn’t social but because she was dedicated to Christie and her studies. The same couldn’t be said about Shayla. Even if they didn’t interact much with each other, the villager had learned a thing or two about the merchant’s daughter, and that was that she wasn’t exactly social. She was aware enough to know when interacting with people was beneficial, but never bothered to overstep her own limits.

  Perhaps that was why Agatha liked her so much. Beyond the fact that she was objectively attractive, of course. There was far more virtue in someone who kept their mouth shut than in someone who talked too much. After all, if someone didn’t interact with you, they couldn’t bully you.

  Depths, I still have that splinter dug deep inside my skin, the villager cursed internally as she saw the Intaksolfani walk away with her usual swagger. I think I should’ve done far more than just slap the shit out of Juan a year ago. I’m getting angry just thinking about it.

  Kids were cruel, Agatha wasn’t the only one who had gotten stoned – everyone had at some point or another in the village, really – but hatred ran deep. The older she got, the more it fermented, like some sort of vintage wine. Fractures, I hope Mom has really gone to the Valasela Estate like I told her; otherwise, I think I might kill someone if I go back to Malachite. Now that she had learned the love of a partner, the cruelty of children only tasted even more sour. And unfortunately for everyone, she was a very sour girl.

  ***

  Once the final exams were done, she wasn’t as angry. Between the stress of the exams, the lack of progress with lapiloquia, and that her mortality had the worst of timings, she wasn’t in the best of moods. Fortunately for everyone, channeling all her rage towards bettering herself was something she had learned from a young age. Agatha would like to think that her Speed command got that fast just from the sheer overusage she had given to it when she was young, but alas, she knew that commands didn’t get stronger that way. An increase in Strata and therefore quality however…

  One thing she did know was that time passed way faster when she enjoyed something, and because every moment she was with Christie was enjoyable, the end of the academic year came before she could even process it.

  “The second year has passed by way too fast,” the seamstress-in-training sighed as she peered into the horizon. It was neither sunrise nor sunset, but the sight of the sea did calm her. They were currently sitting on their favorite granite bench, simply enjoying the end of their exam period.

  “Yes, far too fast,” her girlfriend mused as she caressed the back of Agatha’s hand with her soft and long fingers. “I would have liked being able to enjoy it with its due diligence.”

  “Well, diligence we had a lot of,” Agatha giggled and grabbed the redhead’s hand, locking it into a handhold and stopping it from getting too eager. “It is just that most of the time has been invested for nothing at all.”

  “Still sour from lapiloquia, mock sapphire?” Christie grinned at her in a vulpine manner.

  “In any case, I do not understand how you are not sour. It has been way too many hours thrown down the drain.”

  “Invested, not thrown away. And, in any case,” the redhead reiterated the dirty-blond girl’s tone but with far more amusement, “I could never be sour if I am with you.”

  “Ah,” Agatha softly yelped, no other sounds or worse escaping her lips as her cheeks gained a red tinge.

  Her girlfriend took a deep breath and exhaled even more deeply as she looked at her attentively with those agate eyes of hers. Her breath was so hot yet so soothing…

  “How can you be this cute?” Those were the last words Christie said before she assaulted Agatha’s lips.

  The more time went by, the more did Agatha realize how wrong she was when she initially profiled Christie years ago in the statal examination. The redhead wasn’t shy because she was a bunny, but because she was simply cautious of a foreign place. Her girlfriend was far, far more vicious than a bunny.

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  And she wasn’t against it.

  With one hand locked in a handhold and the other parsing through Agatha’s hair, Christie was enveloping her whole body. An assault that may have started with the hands, but that culminated on the mouth. Agatha had never learned how to kiss – nor Christie for that matter – so she couldn’t say what they did was a good kiss, but it was their kiss. A mess of passion solely their own. It didn’t matter if it was good or it could be better; it only mattered that they were both there.

  And, as always, it was the petite girl’s job to separate themselves.

  “You,” Agatha panted, “get too excited.”

  “Do you,” Christie also panted, though a grin was drawn in her face, “blame me for it?”

  The seamstress-in-training found herself grinning too, but she knew better than to tempt Christie. Perhaps her girlfriend had the willpower to limit herself to caresses, but certainly not the presence of mind to make them short. And, unfortunately, they were on a time crunch.

  “I do not,” the azure-eyed girl whispered as she caressed the agate-eyed girl’s cheek with her free hand. “But we have Adrien waiting for us.”

  “…Unfortunately,” the agate-eyed girl said after a short silence, then straightened her back. Not before landing a peck on Agatha’s nose, however.

  ***

  Agatha loved the Valasela Estate, well… she loved the luxuries of the Valasela Estate and she loved Christie, but the house itself she couldn’t care less about. And even with all those feelings, the journey there was still a slog. That was what two weeks in the same box did to a person, no matter how well-accompanied or entertained they might be. Though it wasn’t like the petite lithorist tried to expedite the journey.

  “I know that we can travel longer thanks to Fran?ois, but he really is slowing down the horses,” she muttered as she sat next to Adrien.

  “There’s nothing that we can do that there, girl,” the coachman snorted. “Just be thankful that we can rotate mounts and drivers. Slightly less than two weeks is still a very good schedule for traversing the whole country.”

  “Yeah, but it doesn't feel right. I mean, I can fly, so why be limited to the ground?”

  “Can you sustain flight for hours without end?” Adrien tilted his head down and squinted at Agatha; his beret slightly shifted downward with the gesture.

  “Not hours if I also have to pay attention where I’m going, but…”

  “If you think that the speed is going to make up for the time you need to rest, think about it again. Mental fatigue isn’t the same as physical fatigue, and it still can pile up quite fast.”

  “Well, I’m quite resilient to both types of fatigue.”

  “Yeah,” he snorted. “Sure, girl.”

  “I am, though!” Agatha pouted. “Look at my sapphire!”

  She grabbed her necklace and shoved it in front of Adrien. While it now looked small to accommodate Mister Krugger’s necklace, it had been a while since she had referred to her lone agate as little. Fractures! She suddenly realized. I completely forgot about Mister Krugger all this time! Oops… Eh, I’ll worry about him later, though that means I have to go to Malachite now, no matter what.

  “Yes, yes, beautiful. What about it?”

  “I don’t appreciate your mocking tone. You aren’t Fran?ois,” Agatha squinted at him.

  “Hoh!” The stoneshell suddenly grunted in protest.

  “Oh! So you know you are a very mocking turtle!” The petite girl shouted back at the colossal turtle. “Now let the adults talk.”

  Adrien snickered at her words, and it didn’t take Agatha much presence of mind to guess why. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologized. “Anyhow, what were you saying about your ‘sapphire’?”

  “Right now, I have three commands active on it. Duplicate, Control, and Compact; in that order. Call it hardheadedness, but I’ve been using these three commands together for so long of a time that I can now wield up to the Third Stratum indefinitely.”

  “Fu-fractures!” The old man’s eyes shot wide open.

  “You know you can curse, right?”

  “Thank you for the offer. I will take it,” Adrien smiled at her. “Fucking shit! Holy fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you, girl?”

  “You said you were going to take the offer, not take it out. Fuck, man.” Agatha chuckled nervously. She was pretty thankful that Christie was taking a nap currently, because she certainly didn’t want her girlfriend to hear all the cursing. While the redhead couldn’t be called ‘pure’, the was virtue in protecting the innocence she did have. It was cute seeing how she never cursed, even if she knew how to, after all.

  “Sorry, sorry,” the coachman apologized again, only that more sincerely now. “I envy you, younglings. I can only reminisce when I used that many commands, let alone in a sustained manner.”

  Agatha raised a brow, and that got her thinking. Hasel was a soldier, and so was Mom. Yet both of them knew Adrien and Miss Diorite for a long time…

  “What’s your highest Stratum?” So she just asked her suspicion, plain yet implicit at the same time.

  “I'd rather not talk about it,” Adrien grunted. “Age takes a toll on a person, both in mind and body, and even if I still have a high Stratum, it matters for nothing. Either way, the most I use my agates for is to lift the carriage for fixes.”

  You still have a high Stratum, huh? The lone-agate lithorist smiled warmly. Having any Stratum already marks you as a soldier, though I wonder what ‘high’ means to him.

  “So you can’t sustain many commands for a long time?”

  “It depends,” he sighed. “Three commands for a quarter of an hour? Sure, doable. But it will take a toll on this wizened mind, and I might have a headache for the rest of the day. I guess you can enjoy being able to use three passive commands while it lasts. Because once you are like thirty, it’s only downhill.”

  “I’m going to be seventeen in a handful of days, I’d say I have quite a bit of time to enjoy myself,” Agatha pressed her hands against her hip.

  “Thought that myself, now looked at me,” the coachman chuckled. “Nah, I’m just messing with you. Time doesn’t pass that fast. But it’s still remarkable being able to maintain that many commands indefinitely.”

  “Okay, maybe I have exaggerated a tiny bit,” the seamstress-in-training smacked her lips and blushed ever-so-slightly. “If I maintain them while I sleep, I do get a headache in the morning, but otherwise, I still can keep them up the whole day.”

  “Still, pretty respectable. I haven’t known many people who have reached that level of… resilience, let’s say.”

  “Really? Three commands don’t sound like much.”

  “Walking isn’t much, but walking for eighteen hours without a rest is bound to leave you wishing for death,” Adrien added.

  “Message received,” Agatha nodded. “So you admit I’m resilient.”

  “I hate how smug you are about it, girl, but yes,” he reciprocated the nod. “You might have a massive handicap, but that resilience of yours is still a strength even if you happen to get outclassed in Strata in the future.”

  A fact Agatha was very aware of and dreaded. She was already starting to get outclassed yet again because some people in class had reached the Third Stratum before the holidays started. Her massive lead was gone yet again before she could even savor it. Her classmates’ growth would slow down as most people ended instruction as Fifth Stratum soldiers, but so would hers. She needed a far larger gap, to dominate with more strength, with peerless supremacy if she wanted to make it so, that her lone agate wasn’t a handicap but a strength.

  A constant struggle, but if there was something Agatha of Malachite was good at, it was constancy.

  “So what are these people you mentioned that you know?” She said after putting her thoughts in order.

  “What?” Adrien looked at her in confusion, the silence apparently having lasted too long to remember the conversation.

  “You mentioned that you have known people who have reached this level of resilience. So who are they?”

  “Hmm, I dunno if it’s mine to say it, girl,” the coachman scratched his ashen and trimmed beard.

  “Oh, come on, Adrien! You cannot drop this and just think I’ll ignore it.”

  “Eh, I guess you’re right,” he sighed and scratched underneath his beret. “I can only say I met three people with this kind of resilience. Hasel, Paciencia, and…” Adrien looked at Agatha for a moment before deciding that it didn’t matter if he spoke or not, “…Cristos.”

  The young lithorist blinked several times in bewilderment. “When you say Cristos, do you mean…?”

  “The Shining Knight? Aye.”

  “How do you know him?” Her eyes suddenly started shining as if commanded by Light.

  “Relax, lass,” Adrien chuckled and pushed her away. “Cristos’ fucking old. Like, he was already a grown ass man when I was a babe. By the time I made it into the military, he was still active. Old already, but active.”

  “Is he as amazing as the legends say?” She asked with palpable enthusiasm. After all, her dream of being the world’s best lithorist wouldn’t have existed if it weren’t for the world’s best lithorist.

  “Amazing? I dunno. But terrifying? Oh, that man is far more terrifying than any legend can make him out to be. Crocheta was way smaller back then, and the only reason why it’s now a powerhouse it’s because of that man alone. The moment he showed up on the battlefield, the enemy soldiers would just surrender. I once saw it myself. He has mastered Agatecraft at such a deep level that his own presence has the weight of stones. I hope he dies before you even have the chance to see him active, because that was an experience I wouldn’t even wish for my worst enemies. Even I felt my bones shatter in his presence, and I was like twenty back then.”

  Adrien meant to infuse fear into her very being, but Agatha just became more and more excited with every word that came out of the old man’s mouth. The concept of a physicalized presence excited her to no end, downright seducing her.

  “And how was he able to do that?” The dirty-blond girl practically jumped in excitement into the driver’s seat.

  “Can’t say I know,” the coachman scoffed. “The only way to know would be to ask him, and I highly recommend against interacting with him.”

  As Adrien’s tone turned frigid, Agatha knew better than to press the issue. Such a harsh voice didn’t fit a man as warm as him in the slightest.

  “Uhm… right. And, er, what about Miss Diorite? You also mentioned her. How is it that the estate’s maid is at that level?”

  “Was, I doubt she can do the things she used to do. Well,” Adrien smacked his lips, “I think due to her own conditions she might still conserve her strength, but I can’t be sure. Regardless, the reason why Paciencia is so resilient is because she was a miner just like Hasel. And one of the most pressing requirements for a miner isn’t raw power, but resilience. Hasel’s strong, don’t get me wrong, but he’s not the strongest. Not by a long shot. In that sense, little René is far stronger. One battles for a war, the other for a duel.”

  So many things were wrong in that statement, but the one that irked the most was how Adrien referred to René Dago, her teacher, as ‘little’.

  “So I have the makings of a miner?” Agatha asked with deep interest.

  “Some, yes,” he shrugged. “But there’s a reason why Hasel’s already retired and has been for a while. The life of a miner isn’t a beautiful one, lemme tell you. It also changes people. Being in the depths for that long…” His gaze turned distant for a moment. “Yeah, not good. Good pay, though, if that’s what interests you.”

  “I guess it did once upon a time… But now it’s kind of redundant, isn’t it?”

  “I guess so, yeah,” Adrien snorted. “But there you have it, girl. Your kind is rare, but not exactly uncommon. So make use of that resilience of your mind whilst your youth lasts.”

  After hearing Adrien’s informative lecture on resilience and mining, Agatha had an idea that involved her previous spiel. “So, Adrien…” She couldn’t help but smile as she spoke. “What do you think of flying turtles?”

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