Lament for My First Life

The Scholars Pact

The morning light streamed through the tall library windows, soft and golden, the kind that made dust glimmer like stardust. The air was quiet, no shouting, no crying, no footsteps rushing down halls. Only the faint rustle of pages turning and the steady scratch of pencils moving across parchment.

At the long oak table, Zephyros and Xylenne sat opposite each other. Between them lay a stack of thick papers, complex formulas, half-finished diagrams, and notes written in Zephyros's slanted hand.

He slid a handful of the papers toward her. "Here," he said simply.

Xylenne blinked, taking them with both hands. These weren't practice problems or tests he'd made for her. They were his, his research, the work he had spent months on. She understood immediately. This wasn't a lesson; this was a test of trust.

Without another word, she climbed into her chair, grabbed her pencil, and began to work.

Zephyros kept the other half of the papers for himself, though he barely read them. His eyes flicked up now and then, watching the little girl across the table, her face calm and focused, her tiny fingers moving with impossible precision, her posture proper and poised. She's seven, he thought, almost incredulous. Seven... and already working through my formulas like she's a colleague instead of a child.

After a long silence, he cleared his throat. "Why don't you ever go outside and play?"

"I don't see the point," Xylenne said without looking up.

He frowned. "You don't see the point of playing?"

"No," she said. "I need to learn all I can so that I can defend myself. I need to be ten steps ahead of everyone for my own safety."

Zephyros blinked, caught off guard. "Why do you think that?"

Her pencil didn't stop moving. "Because I'm a child right now. That means I'm easy to manipulate. People use children, trick them, control them. But not me. Not anymore." The air in the room seemed to still. Zephyros leaned back slowly in his chair, watching her. His heart ached in a way he couldn't quite describe. What kind of pain did this child see to make her speak like that? What kind of life did she live before she ever felt safe enough to learn?

He stayed silent, afraid that any word might break her fragile calm.

Minutes passed. The only sound was the scratching of her pencil and the faint rustle of papers turning.

Finally, Xylenne stopped. "Finished," she said, sliding the stack toward him. He picked them up, scanning her handwriting line by line. Every number, every note, every correction, perfect. Not a single mistake. Zephyros stared at the papers in disbelief, then at the small girl watching him with expectant eyes. "Everything's... correct," he murmured. "All of it."

He set the papers down carefully, as if afraid they might vanish.

Across from him, Xylenne clasped her hands in her lap. Outwardly she looked composed, but inside her heart was thundering. Why won't he just adopt me? she thought, frustration tightening in her chest. I wouldn't be a problem child... I only acted crazy yesterday so Varra wouldn't take me. Why can't he see that?

Her stomach twisted at the thought of Lady Varra's hands on her again, her voice, her false smile, the endless cruelty that had defined her last life.

I can't let it happen again. Her hand drifted to her chest, pressing over her heart. She could feel it racing, fear curling through her like smoke. Not this time... please, not again. Then, unexpectedly, Zephyros stood. The papers in his hands rustled softly. "I can enroll you in the Royal Academy," he said.

Xylenne looked up sharply, eyes wide. "What?"

"I can't let my father know," he continued, pacing slowly in thought. "But if I handle the paperwork myself... I can make it happen."

"But you said I was too young," Xylenne said, still stunned. "You are," Zephyros admitted. Then he smiled faintly. "But I think you'd put every scholar there to shame. Once they see what you can do, they'll make an exception. Especially if it's me vouching for you."

Xylenne's face lit up, bright, full of life in a way Zephyros hadn't seen before. "Yes! I want to go! I can build my network there—future mages, scholars, maybe even a prince!"

Zephyros blinked, half laughing. "Jeez... why is that where your mind goes first?" "Having good connections means survival," Xylenne said earnestly. "If I build my future early, I'll never be powerless again." He shook his head, smiling despite himself. "You really are something else."

The light coming through the window caught her face just then, soft and golden. Her blue eyes gleamed with hope and determination, so much like his brother's, and yet older somehow, like she'd seen too much too soon. "Alright," he said finally. "We'll go tomorrow morning."

"Really?" she asked, disbelief and joy mixing in her voice.

He nodded. "Really."

Her grin widened. It was the first time she had smiled like a real child since coming back. Zephyros felt something stir in his chest, a warmth he hadn't felt in years. For the first time since losing his daughter, he found himself smiling back without hesitation.

"Get some sleep," he said gently, gathering the papers. "Tomorrow, you start your new life." Xylenne nodded, excitement lighting her small face. As she ran off down the hall, he watched her go, his heart heavy and full all at once.

When she was gone, he looked back at the papers she'd filled in, the lines of perfect work written in a child's careful hand.

"She's brilliant," he whispered to himself. "Maybe even destined for something greater than this house."

He smiled faintly again.

Tomorrow, everything would change.