Chapter Text
“Man, what a great party!”
“I heard that!”
“The cake was to die for. Speaking of which… nobody actually almost died!”
“Yeah, we all got to keep our heads, and everything.”
“Best unbirthday EVER!”
The students of Heartslabyul were still buzzing about the dorm’s most recent soirée well after a few days had passed since the event. Apparently it had made quite the impression and was going down in history as a successful unbirthday party. The gossip could be heard all around as the card soldiers sat with their housewarden in the cafeteria of Night Raven College. Cater was twinkling in delight of it all.
“Everyone’s still talking about what a bomb-tastic time they had the other day,” he chirped, scrolling through comments on his phone. “Even on Magicam, all the posts from the unbirthday party are still trending. The algorithm is in our favor! ”
“I wonder if that’s such a good thing, though…” Deuce remarked, placing a finger gently against his chin. “I mean, what if the next one doesn’t live up to this one’s standards? Have we set the bar too high?”
“Ah, what does that matter?” Ace reached over and snatched an orange slice from Deuce’s plate, popping it into his mouth and chewing shamelessly. “We can pull it off again, we’ve got a prime team here!”
Riddle put down his fork with a resounding clatter and glared at the boy with the heart on his face. “Ace. Must I remind you again not to talk with your mouth full? Or to steal food, for that matter?”
Busted, Ace straightened his posture and dipped his head. “Sor~ry.” He quickly replaced the orange slice he had eaten with a spoonful of mashed potatoes, plopping it onto Deuce’s plate in a most undignified manner.
The spade was appalled. “How is that a fair trade?!”
“Anyway,” Cater continued. “I think Ace is right. We’re just going to have to continue to outdo ourselves. Freshmen, painting the roses on point. Hedgehogs and flamingos, mint. Trey, baking the most ’Cam-worthy treats. Riddle… not going after anyone’s head. The recipe for #bestunbirthdayever is in our hands!”
Riddle was still grimacing at Ace’s behavior, and at first, Cater’s comment only kept the displeased expression fixed in place… but even the housewarden himself had to admit that the party had been grand. He softened and gave a reluctant nod. “You all did well, but we must not rest on our laurels. The standard for all unbirthday parties has always been perfection. Just because we’ve come close, that does not grant us the permission to become heedless.”
“More like headless, in this case,” Ace muttered.
Cater noticed that Trey had yet to contribute to the conversation. The vice housewarden sat to the diamond’s left, poking at his barely-touched food with his fork. Cater gave him a nudge. “Trey-Trey, you okay-kay?”
“Hm?” Trey looked up and noticed that everyone at the cafeteria table had their eyes on him. “Oh, sure.” He smiled. “I think it’s alright to bask in our accomplishment for now, instead of worrying too much about the future. When the next party comes, we’ll do just as well, if not better.”
“Good point, Clover-senpai…” Deuce gave a thoughtful nod. “I’ll save my concern for when the next unbirthday party is around the corner, then!”
As the conversation dissolved into smaller chats around them, Riddle watched Trey attentively from his spot directly across the table. The vice housewarden had been slightly off lately, but it didn’t seem significant enough to bring up until this point. Riddle couldn’t help but wonder if Trey was still having nightmares about when they had faced the Frostlich, or if something else was troubling him. After all, Trey would definitely keep his own problems to himself unless prompted to confess them.
“You’ve hardly eaten.”
Trey looked up again, hazel eyes widening for the briefest moment. “Huh?”
Riddle gestured toward Trey’s cafeteria plate. “Is something the matter?”
“No, I’m fine,” came the clover’s reply, and his usual smile didn’t suggest that he was being at all untruthful. “I’m going over to the Pomefiore dorm this evening, and I was just thinking about the baked goods I need to bring…”
“Oh? What is the occasion?”
“Study session for the first exam of the semester,” Trey explained, bringing up a hand to quickly adjust his glasses. “I told Rook I would bring treats, but I forgot that I need to make something sugar-free and low-carb for Vil. I’ll have to start soon or there won’t be enough time.”
“I see.” Far be Riddle from the kind of person who would discourage a study session, but he had to question how accommodating Trey was being. “Isn’t that a bit much? The need to adhere to someone’s overly specific-”
Before he could even finish his sentence, Riddle saw the tired and knowing look in Trey’s eyes, and realized with no small amount of shame that this was the very epitome of hypocrisy.
“Well…” the redhead murmured, eyes lowered and face flushed. “I suppose you’ve had a lot of practice, doing that.”
Riddle ate a bit more of his meal, keeping his mouth busy so he could think instead of continuing to speak. It was always easier for him to criticize the ways of others than to reflect on his own manner of living… a manner that was generally regarded by his peers as somewhere between “strict” and “completely absurd”. Though no longer a teapot tyrant, Riddle was still convinced that his way was the right way; yet over time, he had begun to realize that others simply didn’t - and wouldn’t - agree, and there was little he could do about it. It was this clash that made him the “difficult” one in most situations. As rigid as Riddle was, that was still sometimes a hard pill to swallow.
Trey didn’t say anything for several seconds, staring somewhat blankly at his friend. “It’s no big deal,” he finally spoke. “I would rather everyone around me be happy. It’s just easier.”
It was strange for Trey to speak these words without smiling. Riddle propped up his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand. “Trey…” he said softly, barely audible with all the conversation happening in the dining hall. “I trust you can handle things. But please, don’t overwork yourself.”
“I won’t,” Trey responded, this time with a nod that seemed to seal the conversation and keep it closed. He stood and took his scarcely-touched food plate. “Well… I’d better be off. See you all later.”
The rest of the cards bade him farewell, and Riddle watched silently as Trey left the dining hall after tossing out what remained of his uneaten meal. The housewarden drummed his fingers on the table, unable to shake the nagging feeling that Trey was preoccupied by something that he wasn’t revealing. He shifted his gaze toward Cater, who had apparently already been looking his way.
No words were exchanged between the two, but Cater and Riddle kept eye-contact for long enough to recognize the same feeling in their expressions. Something was going on with Trey, and neither one of them were privy to the exact details.
It was definitely concerning.
♥♠♦♣
The Frostlich is a creature tied purely to the emotions of other living beings. As it is comprised of the spiteful souls of the dead, it is drawn to certain emotions like a moth to flame. Once it has latched onto a living creature, it will be impossible to sever the cord.
“Arrrghh…” Riddle closed the book in frustration. “It can’t be impossible. Surely someone must have made progress at some point…” He flipped through another of the ancient tomes he had dug up from the archives, hunched over his table in the library with the rest of his books spread out in front of him. He had been at this for over a week, and although he had learned a bit more information than the headmage, he was still no closer to figuring out a way to defeat the Frostlich.
“And what do they mean by ‘certain emotions’, anyway…” he mumbled to himself. The headmage had mentioned that the Frostlich was comprised of souls who had died ‘as a result of their own cold-heartedness’. Did this mean that the creature was drawn to a feeling of the heart? If that were the case, what sort of emotion could that be? What was the exact definition of ‘cold-hearted’, anyway?
“Heyyyy… Goldfishie…”
Ugggh. Not what I need right now.
Riddle glanced up from his work and shot a harsh glare at Floyd Leech, who had already sauntered his way over and plopped himself down in the chair next to him. “Floyd, as you have no doubt failed to notice, I’m extremely busy,” the housewarden stated. “If you’re here to be a nuisance, as usual, I suggest you make a different choice.”
“Ahhh, always so cold,” Floyd said with his usual nonchalance. He picked up one of the books on the table and feigned interest in it for about half a second before tossing it back toward the pile.
“Mind yourself!” Riddle spat, trying his best to keep his voice hushed. “These books are extremely old and delicate! You’d do well to treat them as such!”
Floyd leaned back and yawned before putting his hands behind his head. “What’s a goldfishie like you want with all this old stuff?” he slurred. “Trying to find the meaning of life? ‘Cause I already know, and I can tell ya… for a price.”
“Spare me your drivel.” Riddle was surely not about to get anywhere with this moray skulking around and distracting him. If Floyd was going to insist on being here, Riddle might as well at least find out if there was any information in that strange brain of his.
“Have you heard of something called a Frostlich?” Riddle asked.
Floyd frowned in confusion. “Frostlich… mmmm, sounds like a kinda ice cream.”
“It’s an elemental creature, extremely ancient and powerful. It looks like this.” Riddle pulled out a scrap of paper he’d copied from the headmage’s book and handed it to Floyd. The eel sat up and peered his heterochromic eyes at the image.
“Ooohhhh…” Floyd eventually nodded in understanding. “I’ve seen this picture before.”
“Have you?” Riddle perked up, surprised. “Where?”
“Hmmm…” It took Floyd a moment to remember. “Back under the sea, we learned about a thing that looks just like this… except without all that snow and junk.” He pointed to the face of the Frostlich. “But it definitely has those same eyes. I can’t remember what they said it was called but it’s like, totally scary.” He grinned for some foolish reason, and it was odd to hear him speak of a different frightening creature while sporting such an unsettling, jagged-toothed smile of his own. “Its power has to do with like… changing a person’s heart, or something? Or maybe it was, melting a person’s heart… ah, I dunno.”
Riddle took the photo back from him. “Do you remember learning anything else? Or perhaps, would Jade or Azul recall anything?”
Floyd shrugged, reaching up to put a hand on his own shoulder near the nape of his neck. “Dunno. Want me to ask…?”
“No, I’ll ask them, myself,” Riddle replied, mostly because he couldn’t trust Floyd to actually remember this conversation. Furthermore, he wanted no reason to be indebted to this guy.
“Suit yourself, Goldfishie…” Now sufficiently bored, Floyd stood up and turned to take his leave. Riddle was surprised that he’d managed to actually learn a little something from Floyd Leech, of all people. He wanted to at least show his gratitude, regardless of (or perhaps, because of) how rare the situation was.
“Floyd.”
The moray turned to look back at Riddle. “Yeah?”
“Thank you for your assistance.”
Floyd grinned again. “If you really want to thank me, can I give you a squeeze?”
Aaaand there it is.
“Absolutely not.” Riddle went back to his books, irritated all over again. “You gave me information, and I let you bother me for a solid five minutes. We are even.”
“Maaan…” Floyd shuffled his feet as he sulked out of the library. “Being helpful is no fun at all.”