The chamber was a cavernous space, darkened by heavy drapes and lit by the flicker of arcane lanterns. Crescent Pryce sat in a wooden chair, her posture rigid, her gaze steady. Anyone in her position would be sweating bullets but Crescent's demeanor was as calm as ever.
Before her, behind a grandiose oak desk, sat the respective headmasters, their robes embroidered with ancient runes. The one in the center, a man with sharp features and eyes like cold steel, leaned forward, fingers steepled.
"Welcome, Miss Pryce," he began, his voice smooth yet laced with condescension. "I am Headmaster Thorne. Tell me, what drives you to seek admission to our prestigious academy?"
Headmistress Amaranth cast a cautious glance at Hearmaster Thorne. Aware of Thorne's rather unsavory reputation for destroying potential students that he deemed unsuitable for attending. She already made it up in her mind that if he even entertained the idea of doing that towards the young lady she'd do everything within her power to ensure he's exiled from the school. Yet the moment she looked in Crescent's eyes there was something within her that convinced her to halt that attempt. She couldn't describe what she saw within those eyes when she looked at them. Whatever it was is kept contained and fighting to be let out.
Crescent's expression remained impassive. "Knowledge," she replied simply.
Thorne's lips curled into a faint, predatory smile. "Knowledge, indeed. And what, pray tell, do you intend to do with this knowledge?"
"That is my concern," Crescent answered, her voice devoid of inflection.
"Ah, but it becomes our concern when you wish to join our ranks," Thorne countered. "What are your ambitions, Miss Pryce?"
Her eyes met his, unwavering. "To master the arts."
Thorne's smile widened. "And do you believe you have the resolve to endure our rigorous training? To face the challenges that lie ahead?"
"I do," she said, her tone icy.
Thorne's gaze intensified. "Many students enter these halls with confidence, but few truly grasp the sacrifices required. What have you sacrificed, Miss Pryce?"
A flicker of something dark passed over her eyes, but she did not respond.
"Interesting," Thorne murmured. "Your past, then. Tell me, how did you come to be so... infamous?"
Crescent's hands clenched slightly in her lap. "My actions speak for themselves."
Thorne leaned back, eyes gleaming. "Indeed they do. Yet, I wonder, what darkness shadows your past? What secrets do you hide?"
Amaranth Ragnarson scowled, before she could even interject in this interview a voice inside her mind commands her.
"Don't"
And with that she kept still, keeping her rising fury contained for the time being.
Her silence stretched, heavy and unyielding.
Thorne's smile faded, irritation flickering in his eyes. "Very well. Let us speak plainly. Your parents—how did they meet their end?"
A muscle in Crescent's jaw twitched, her cold facade cracking for the briefest moment. "They died because they were weak."
"Is that so?" Thorne pressed, sensing vulnerability. "And does their weakness haunt you? Do you fear you might share their fate?"
"No," she said sharply, her voice like a blade. "I am not them."
She leaned forward, her cold gaze challenged Headmaster Thorne's. "And I'm most certainly NOT your brother"
Thorne's composure slipped, a flash of anger in his eyes. "Careful, Miss Pryce. You tread dangerous ground."
"Killed under mysterious circumstances correct? You started this," she replied, her voice dripping with ice. "Do you think you're the first to try and break me? You hide behind your questions, your authority. But you're just as weak as they were."
Thorne's face darkened. "You know nothing about me."
"Don't I?" Crescent's eyes gleamed with a dark satisfaction. "Eldric's death wasn't mysterious. He killed himself because he'd rather live anywhere but a world where you exist."
The room grew colder, the shadows deepening. Thorne's composure shattered, his hands trembling. "Enough," he hissed.
"Or what?" Crescent leaned forward, her voice a venomous whisper. "You think you're untouchable, but I see through you. Your insecurities, your failures. You break students because you fear they'll surpass you. But you won't break me."
Headmistress Amaranth cast one final glance at Headmaster Thorne who appeared too shaken to come up with a response. He just slumped into his chair looking utterly defeated. A small part of her applauds Crescent of her display. "I must say Miss Pryce. You left quite the impression. You may leave."
Crescent rose gracefully, her expression triumphant. She took a respectful bow to the other headmasters before casting one final gaze at Headmaster Thorne. She doesn't need to say anything. He acknowledge the lesson that she brought on him. The weak yield to the strong.
