Page 105 of Academy of the Wicked, Year Two

"That's barbaric," I state flatly, moral assessment emerging before diplomatic consideration can soften judgment. "How could such a system possibly be permitted within an educational institution?"

Then again…this is ‘WICKED’ Academy.

The act of dismissing your own comrade that helped you reach this point is rather wicked in nature.

Evil but accepted.

Zeke's expression shifts to something approaching surprised appreciation, as if my immediate rejection of the system's validity represents unexpected response rather than obvious reaction to apparent injustice.

"It's considered voluntary exchange," he clarifies, though his tone suggests personal skepticism regarding this official designation. "The familiar theoretically chooses to accept limitations and hardships that would otherwise fall upon their bonded companion."

"But you said you were assigned," I point out, contradiction immediately apparent between institutional characterization and his personal narrative. "That doesn't sound voluntary. You were appointed to this individual just to help them out in being sent to Wicked Academy to prove something to their family or learn a lesson, or maybe help someone in their family who was ill. I don’t know, but it doesn’t mean this was where you were meant to belong."

An unexpected smile flickers across his features – brief acknowledgment of perception that apparently pleases him despite the uncomfortable subject matter.

"You're correct," he concedes, head tilting slightly in gesture that once again appears unconsciously feline despite his current human form. "The system contains inherent contradictions that official academy policy carefully ignores in favor of maintaining theoretical framework justifying practical outcomes."

All of it sounds like overcomplicated foolishness.

The assessment carries sophisticated understanding of institutional politics that seems incongruous coming from someone previously presenting as a socially isolated student struggling to navigate the academy's complex hierarchy.

"If sacrifice involves substituting your suffering for another's advancement," I reason, following implications to logical conclusion, "does that mean your current state…undernourished, exhausted, unable to access true form…directly benefits someone else within academy?"

Zeke's expression turns guarded, suggesting approach to information he's reluctant to share despite previous openness.

After a brief internal debate visible in minute shifts of expression, he apparently reaches a decision.

"Yes," he confirms simply, elaboration withheld despite obvious complexity underlying his single-word response.

"The Dark Fae student you were assigned to?" I press, unwilling to abandon this line of inquiry despite his evident discomfort.

His hesitation lengthens, internal calculation clearly weighing risks of disclosure against potential benefits of shared understanding.

"Not exactly," he finally offers, compromise between complete withholding and full revelation. "The circumstances... evolved beyond original arrangement. Needless to say, that individual moved on…and they’ve entered Year Three, if not reached the final destination meant for them. They may not even be a part of the academy anymore. They might be graduated and back to the life they were destined for outside these walls. Either way, it no longer has anything to do with me."

Zeke…

It has everything to do with you because now you’re left stranded…alone…as if you didn’t do everything in your power as an entrusted being from a royal heritage to aid one who should have thought of you as a loyal companion.

Not discard you like trash…

Before I can formulate a follow-up question designed to navigate around his evident reluctance, Zeke gestures toward the corridor stretching ahead of us, a deliberate change of topic signaled through both physical movement and verbal redirection.

"We should continue moving," he suggests, tone carrying enough urgency to indicate genuine concern rather than mere conversational evasion. "The Stellarum Archive connection point isn't far, but timing matters for optimal access."

While it’s frustrating to abandon the promising line of inquiry, practical considerations regarding our assignment take precedence over satisfying immediate curiosity. Professor Valerian's task still requires completion within the established timeframe, and whatever secrets Zeke harbors about his "sacrifice" status can potentially be explored after securing the required aerial image.

"Lead on," I concede, shelving temporarily, rather than abandoning questions his partial revelations have inspired. "But this conversation isn't finished."

The appreciative smile he offers in response carries genuine warmth that suggests gratitude for both respecting his boundaries and maintaining interest despite temporary redirection.

"I wouldn't expect otherwise," he acknowledges, resuming progress down the golden corridor with that peculiar grace that somehow conveys both efficiency and elegance in a single movement. "You're too perceptive to be easily distracted from important details."

The compliment, delivered with simple sincerity rather than flattering intention, catches me momentarily off-guard.

Genuine appreciation based on accurate assessment feels rarer than it should within the academy's environment of calculated interactions and strategic relationship management.

As we continue through the corridor, runes activating in sequential patterns that suggest recognition systems tracking our progress, I find attention divided between immediate surroundings and continued contemplation of Zeke's partial revelations.

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