Named after the Moon

“So, am I even allowed to wear these clothes? They’re made of high-quality fabric, I can tell,” Jenkins muttered thoughtfully, resting her pointed chin on her cold fingers.

The girl glanced at the clock above the table and discovered that time wasn’t about to pause for her reflections, but continued to flow according to its own, unknown rules. Then the fox decided in favor of the clothes she’d prepared and very carefully donned two layers of shirts, pants, and a robe. She forgot to put on the apron, seeing it as unnecessary. “I think it’ll be useful for the experiments,” the fox reasoned, and walked over to the mirror by the window.

“The organizers could have made a deal with the management so I wouldn’t walk around here like a weirdo,” she guessed, looking at her reflection. The mirror’s placement was perfect, thanks to the good natural light streaming through the window. “At least the weather is nicer in the morning and visibility is good…”

Spinning around again, the fox noted with some satisfaction how well the image had been assembled, despite its unfamiliarity. However, Jenkins was still young and eager to embrace new traditions and principles. Continuing to arrange the remaining items, she placed two books on the table that Lady Kara had given her out of old friendship: “Fundamentals of Pharmaceutics,” which explained the basic rules at a basic level, and “Advanced Literary Theory.” Nearby, she placed several quills, a bottle of ink, two unused notebooks, each nearly a hundred pages long, and a herbarium of medicinal herbs from her native kingdom. “It’s not much, but it’s all I hold dear at the moment,” the future pharmacist thought neutrally, approaching the window again. She could now see students and professors strolling around the campus, and soft footsteps and girlish chatter could be heard outside the door. Luelle glanced at her watch and saw the small hand almost touching the 9 o’clock mark, while the long one rested on the 30 o’clock mark. Surprised by her own slowness in unpacking, she hurried to stack and place her textbooks for the required subjects in a woven bag. She had also found the necessary materials in her room. The fox hadn’t forgotten her writing utensils either. One last time before leaving, she approached the mirror and made sure her tail wasn’t visible under her robe and her hair wasn’t sticking out in all directions, having been pulled back into a neat bun.

“Okay, today’s your first day, you’ll do well and maybe even make some friends!” Jenkins encouraged herself and walked out into the hallway.

Chapter 3 “The Raised Scythe”

The girls’ dorm was quite noisy with girls getting ready for class. They looked just like our fox, which helped Luelle confirm her suspicions about uniforms being provided to all new students. Moreover, each of their clothes fit perfectly, suggesting that the administration had indeed ordered blouses and pants in sizes for all the students. The fox considered this a good sign: “It means there’s respect for everyone here, regardless of species.”

The energetic girls seemed oblivious to the red-haired beast among them. They didn’t even glance at her when she emerged from the back room. But when Luelle had moved a sufficient distance away, standing next to the stairs leading to the lower floors, some rather unpleasant words reached her furry ears. The herbivorous students – Jenkins was the only predator from Berrydoule at the academy – had found themselves a target for gossip and hostility, perhaps without even realizing why. But how did the girl react to the hostile whispers? She accepted it as a given and immediately tried to forget it. “Oh, I don’t need to shed tears over some arrogant girls,” the fox thought, descending the steps and examining the tower’s interior. Everything seemed so unusual, strange, yet incredibly captivating. Diamond-shaped crystals chained to the walls served as light sources (“Maybe they’re light bulbs?”), and patterns adorned the rounded walls (“They look like ancient runes…”). Otherwise, the space wasn’t particularly aesthetically pleasing, but it did remind Jenkins of the general style of Egalitia’s buildings. She didn’t encounter anyone along the way, but from below, she heard the increasing noise of heels and platforms. She slowed for a split second, but then cast aside her hesitation and boldly ran to the base. Luelle walked down another, more spacious, glass-sided corridor. Since it had been late yesterday, she hadn’t had the chance to appreciate the building’s splendor, so she decided to do so now, stopping every now and then at the windows and gazing at the snow-covered flowerbeds of unfamiliar ice flowers. “It makes sense – ice trees grow here, so why shouldn’t small plants grow too?” the fox explained, an unfamiliar phenomenon. Then she reached her classroom (“Thank goodness for signs!”) and quietly opened the bright door. The room looked like a typical classroom, only with conveniently arranged desks and seats. To her inexplicable annoyance, she’d have to sit at the same table with someone, but with nothing else to do, Luelle chose the farthest seat in the third row.

“It’s actually quite convenient here!” she remarked, sitting down on a chair and starting to lay out her supplies. The first lesson was on the theory of elements and particles, so the fox flexed her fingers; she had a lot of writing to do, especially on the first day. At least she wouldn’t have to write reaction equations: Jenkins still hadn’t figured out why some organic substances decompose into acid and alcohol when heated, while others decompose into completely different components. However, she definitely didn’t plan to make her own tinctures using esters, especially complex ones. “The textbook said that pharmacists don’t usually use complex esters in lab experiments, because simple ones are more effective,” Luelle recalled of the material she’d read. Truthfully, she wanted to start studying medicinal herbs as soon as possible and save the theory of elements for later. The thought made her slap herself across the cheeks: “Now stop this rebellion! I must devote due attention to each discipline if I want to get ahead and not let others displace me!” She was lucky the lecture hall remained empty, as the fox’s behavior could have perplexed the other first-years or even compromised her in front of the professor. She wanted to establish a rapport with the faculty right away, and she believed it wouldn’t be difficult, since “learned animals are free of prejudice.” The idea struck her to prepare for the hour-and-a-half lecture, and Jenkins opened a brand-new textbook. Admittedly, the design was attractive, and the material was explained in student-friendly language, but the fox found that certain information differed from that presented in the textbook in the Alta library. Luelle began to worry. “What if they ask me? ‘Miss, can you tell me how to obtain a high-grade crystal from Felinestill clay? You’re here for a reason, aren’t you?’ No, that even sounds absurd, and besides, no one will single me out for my achievements! Yes, I’m sure everyone here is talented, even better than me…” she mused, tapping her nails on the colorful cover of a large notebook. Closer to the appointed time, a large group of animals entered the classroom, apparently having already become friends with one another. The girls chatted cheerfully with the boys, and the boys, looking wise, shared their successes with the rest of the boys. With their presence, they brought life to the almost empty room. Since our fox sat at a distance and nevertheless began reading the material, the group did not notice her and landed in the first rows. Other first-years followed them and settled into second and third places. Conveniently for Luelle, no one went further than the fifth row, meaning no one could disturb her or give her an unfriendly look. Soon, the professor arrived – a dignified bunny in a lilac dress just above her ankles and rectangular glasses.

“Hello, everyone! I’m Tyra Maves, your mentor in ‘Theory of Elements and Particles,’ a remarkable and important science not only for medicine and alchemy, but also for pharmaceuticals, where you’ve chosen to follow your heart,” she said in a deep, soft voice and looked around at the silent animals. For a split second, her gray eyes rested on the distant desks where Jenkins was sitting at the time, then the woman continued her speech, smoothly transitioning to the topic of the lecture. The fox, meanwhile, had already prepared to write down all the material. Moreover, she already had a rough idea of what needed to be recorded in her notebook.

The lecture proceeded at a fairly dynamic but not tiring pace, so Luelle felt virtually no loss of concentration or fatigue by the end. She left the auditorium in a good mood.

“Hey, fox!” someone called out from behind her.

The girl turned and looked questioningly at those who, like her, were sitting in the Elemental Theory class. They were probably the animals from that same friendly group, but, frankly, they certainly didn’t look friendly right now. A slight smile was frozen on their faces, but tension was clearly reflected in their eyes. Even when Jenkins inhaled, she felt something thick and heavy in the air. She felt strange impulses in her scalp, as if all her hair was standing on end.

“You know, we decided that we need to instruct you for all eight semesters,” the rat said, relaxedly, and fell silent, giving the floor to his friend, a tall and graceful weasel. The weasel’s eyes narrowed slightly, not merely out of judgment but a deeper resentment. Her heart burned with the fear of being outshone by a newcomer, a reminder of how fragile her status could be if Luelle were to excel here. “We’re not going to insult you or anything, but you need to know one thing: don’t get cocky just because you won some competition. We’ve all worked hard to study here, so we won’t let some newcomer bully us,” she said menacingly, then, giving the others a displeased look, went off to do her own thing. She clenched her fists, masking the unease that grieved beneath her frustration, exuding a sense of calm when inside, each word spoke of her own insecurity.

There was silence, which the fox took advantage of and tried to clear up the misunderstanding.

“I understand everything, truly,” she said, putting her paws forward in a conciliatory tone. “But I didn’t mean to offend you in any way! I never intended to mock anyone for any reason. My presence here was inevitable, and I intend to use it solely for educational purposes.”

In response to the girl’s words, someone laughed.

“That sounds so pathetic, especially coming from a fanged rogue (“Actually, I didn’t call you anything…”), don’t count on our naivety, because we can bite too,” the young otter hissed, after which all the “offended” students dispersed to their offices or the cafeteria.

It wasn’t that Jenkins was brutally offended by such attacks, but her positive outlook was slowly sinking. Even the stranger’s rudeness the previous evening hadn’t left her feeling so dejected. Perhaps she wouldn’t have even noticed his rude gesture if she hadn’t been exhausted from the journey and the long search for her academy. Nevertheless, she arrived at the cafeteria with a dull look in her eyes. “Maybe it’s my hunger… Indeed, hunger! In Berrydoule, I ate whatever I could get my hands on, but could my eating habits improve here? What can I even eat?” she thought as she stood in line in the buzzing cafeteria. Several more people waited ahead of her, and then only three more joined, clearly reluctant to stand next to their former blood enemy. Fortunately, the fox had already become oblivious to the hostility to her right and glanced at the student standing next to her. However, she immediately flinched, as to her left stood one of those who had said such stupid things to her after the lecture. The white-and-brown weasel gazed gloomily at the vats of food, impatiently tapping her small heel on the floor. Finally, it was her turn, and the unfamiliar girl began to fill her plate with a breakfast of salad and fruit. The fox noticed the increasing discomfort throughout the weasel’s body as she raked through the leaves with tongs. Then the tall student stepped aside, making way for Luelle. Apparently, the sight of such bland fare for her and her fellow students hadn’t lifted the girl’s spirits, but the chance to eat after a full day without anything substantial – dried chicken legs notwithstanding – could certainly ease her growing headache and emotional state. However, the fox couldn’t ponder her choice for long, and her hunting nose couldn’t be relied upon, having lost her sense of smell as a cub. Perhaps that’s why she didn’t pounce on the rodents surrounding her now.

The girl served herself some amaranth porridge and sprinkled it with nuts, then placed three small wild peaches on another saucer. Grabbing a glass of water, she wandered to the only available table in the corner of the dining room, right next to the door to the utility room. The glossy chair glittered in the light of the tiny crystals sewn into the thin tablecloth. After sitting down, Luelle couldn’t concentrate on her food for a moment, merely staring, mesmerized, at the multicolored lights. They felt like ordinary gemstones to the touch, but the properties of these minerals were certainly surprising, unlike mediocre jewelry. “I should probably eat; the next class starts in twenty minutes,” she thought, examining the tiny facets of the crystals, her head resting on her paw. “If I’m not mistaken, pharmacology in a magical environment – I wonder what could be there?” Jenkins was distracted from his thoughts by someone’s laughter, and the fox peered over the corner of the counter without getting up.

The animals from the ill-fated group were seated at one of the tables, and before them stood the elegant weasel, holding a tray. She was facing her classmates, but Luelle could tell from her stiff movements that the disgruntled stranger was in trouble. She caught snatches of words like, “…I disagree, go away…” and “You’re just as much of a meat eater…” followed by a ringing silence between the weasel and the rodents. Someone glanced at the fox’s table and its occupant, as if ordering the white-and-brown specimen to retreat to the lazy student. The weasel did just that, walking to a secluded spot in the dining hall with an inscrutable expression and sitting next to Luelle. The weasel herself wasn’t particularly opposed, but she was deeply perplexed by the behavior of the girl who had previously threatened her.

“Are you alright?” she ventured, only to be met with the sound of ragged breathing and the clatter of utensils. The weasel decided not to answer the fox’s question, but her appearance already spoke for itself: the student was ill. Jenkins followed the girl’s example and also began eating. The porridge, still hot, unpleasantly burned Luelle’s tongue, and the nuts crunched pleasantly between her teeth. Her greenish eyes closed as she struggled to swallow. The fox continued to empty her plate, oblivious to the weasel’s stunned gaze. The stranger’s saucer remained practically untouched, and her brown eyes seemed reddened, as if from an allergy. Finally, the fox finished her breakfast and glanced at the marten. The girl was breathing hard, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. Her gaze was now fixed on the food she hated. Without thinking, Luelle brought her face closer to the weasel, which showed pain, and placed her paws on its shoulders:

“We’re going to run to the infirmary now, do you hear me!?” the fox tried to bring the student back to her senses. She nodded slightly in response and allowed herself to be led to the doctor. Jenkins didn’t clear their plates, as it was urgent, and, accompanied by curious and mocking glances, she ran off with a languid caress in search of the desired office.

The vixen had already gotten used to the life-saving signs, so she and the girl quickly reached the infirmary. They were met by a young hare wearing a standard academic uniform and an apron over it. He looked no older than Luelle.

“Good morning to you! She’s taken ill in the cafeteria and needs a doctor,” the predator rattled off, supporting the sick woman by the waist. The student glared at the girls with icy, sullen eyes, but let them in. The fox placed the weasel on a vacant couch and exhaled – it had been a while since she’d carried another animal. The long-haired boy approached the pale-faced student and ran his eyes over her. Then he turned to the worried fox standing nearby.

“What did she eat?” was all he asked, maintaining an iron calm and, it would seem, boredom.

“Some kind of salad,” Luelle answered uncertainly.

“Was there something else?”

“Fruits, all kinds…”

“What about something meaty?”

“Do they serve any meat here?” she asked, puzzled, still looking into his cold eyes. Suddenly, a shiver ran through her as she realized who stood before her. Barely restraining herself from exclaiming, the fox glanced at the sick woman.

“Okay, then the verdict is this: this idiot developed an allergic reaction to herbivorous food,” he sighed irritably, reluctantly beginning to explain, simultaneously tapping the syringe containing an unknown liquid he had pulled from the fold of his apron. “She’s a carnivore by nature, so improper nutrition could cause unpleasant consequences, ranging from temporary visual impairment to,” he jabbed the injection into her neck with a flourish, missing her carotid artery with surprising precision, “a coma.” The victim gasped at the rough treatment, tears spewing from her bloodshot eyes.

The fox flinched at the sight, but leaned toward the weasel, whose suffocation subsided almost immediately. She looked calmer now, though her gaze hadn’t yet regained its former awareness.

Jenkins looked at the hare again, who turned away and walked into the laboratory, where one of the doors from the infirmary led. “No, I definitely won’t mistake those eyes for anything else – it’s the stranger from the train. But how did it happen that both he and I came from Egalitia with the same purpose? Such coincidences are rather absurd,” she thought excitedly, turning her attention to the weasel lying on the couch. “What should she do?”

There were a couple of minutes left before class. Weasel slowly rose and sat up, hunched over. She took a few more seconds to catch her breath and finally looked at her savior. There was no hint of hostility in her honey-brown eyes now; instead, they shone with remorse and shame for her previous behavior.

“I must apologize for such an immature act,” she began in a trembling voice, “I promise I won’t bother you again…”

The bells rang to signal the beginning of the lectures, but the two girls continued to remain in the empty infirmary.

“Yes, your greeting certainly isn’t warm, but I don’t hold a grudge,” Luelle replied quietly and sat down next to the tall student, “let’s stick together, especially since you and I both have difficulties with… our backgrounds.”

The gaze of both predators brightened.

“Are you sure? Are you sure you’re not offended by our attacks?” the weasel asked, still hesitant, to which the fox responded by gently taking her brown paws. “Then we should begin with an introduction.”

“Let’s hurry, or they won’t let us into the auditorium!” the fox said encouragingly, smiling. “My name is Luelle Jenkins, but just call me Lue. I’m glad we finally found common ground.”

Something resembling a smile appeared on the haggard face of the graceful girl.

“I’m Sana, Sana Kairie,” the weasel introduced herself, “thank you for your kindness, Lue…”

Chapter 4 “Strengthening”

Finding a kindred spirit can happen at an unexpected moment, when hopes for any kind of connection have abruptly faded. Luelle found herself in a similar situation, but a meeting and subsequent encounter with a similarly aloof, weasel-like girl helped the fox shake off her lingering loneliness and survive the next three years at the chilly academy.

The first year was like a colorful play, where events dynamically advance the plot and delight the uninitiated audience. Luelle struggled to keep up with the pace of learning; at first, she struggled to get used to the number of assignments outside of class time, the trek from one tower to another, and the way all lectures were conducted. Here, too, the Niral Academy distinguished itself from most educational institutions in the kingdom, demonstrating its own approach to teaching young beasts. While at the capital’s university or outlying seminary, students went through three stages – welcome, theory, and test – then at the Medalchemy Academy east of Frateville, the structure of a class could not be predicted in advance. The instructor might first conduct a knowledge test for everyone present, then begin a new topic or conduct a lab assignment without warning. Until her second year, Doulean felt like she was walking a tightrope over an abyss, as the chaotic nature of the learning process severely damaged her confidence and caused anxiety. However, having learned from life in damp, cramped barracks, where straw thrown on the floor served as beds, she was able to adapt to the academic difficulties. Moreover, Sana helped her and, for a time, became something of a mentor to Luelle. Under her watchful eye, Jenkins studied the material and then retold it, even if it took until the official curfew. Then Kairie retired to her room nearby, and the fox, her head barely touching the pillow, fell into a restless sleep.

It’s not as if the academic program was trivial or lacking an innovative approach to knowledge acquisition. During her year on campus, Luelle discovered a world of magic unexplained by modern science. In Berrydoule, mysticism existed in the form of legends and ancient rituals, but no one seriously practiced it there, with the exception of fortune tellers, whom the lion’s share of educated foxes, wolves, and fennec foxes considered mere old swindlers. Jenkins held the same opinion until she witnessed with her own eyes a fire illusion from a professor of healing and protective magic. She was even more shocked by her own abilities, which unfolded after the first few lectures. Unlike Luelle, Sana had been taught since childhood that magic was not something unrealistic, but a significant part of the life of any worthy citizen. As the fox later learned, Egalitia had, since ancient times, practiced the powers bestowed by the heavens for good purposes and had not revealed its teachings to anyone, including the enemy state on its southern land borders. Thus, the winner of Fortuna became part of the sacred sacrament and vowed not to disturb its centuries-old order.

The first year, filled with new experiences, was followed by the second year. Here, Lady Jenkins stood more confidently and was able to devote more time to medicinal herbs and combat magic. She consistently earned gold grades in these and related subjects. On the other hand, she barely managed a silver in particle theory and natural medicine, no matter how hard she tried to spend time poring over tomes of subjects that didn’t interest her. In her free time, she managed to stay in shape, but fiction had to be put on hold due to the excessive workload. Attending the winter ball affected every second-year student at the academy, to the delight of those who loved dancing and making new connections, but unfortunately for those who favored solitude. “Sounds fun! I must definitely invite Sana,” the fox thought at first, joyfully wagging her tail and pacing the room. Then she caught herself thinking the exact opposite: “What will I do there? I can’t dance, no one likes me… So be it, the ball is canceled for me!” Kairie, for her part, understood the girl’s wishes, but spent one snowy evening in a truly magical hall. Otherwise, the school days were interspersed with sessions and improvised activities.

Her third year at the Medalchemy Academy was marked by an opening concert given by young lab assistants and students specializing in healing. Applause could be heard beyond the gates, all across Niral, as the talented animals had been tirelessly preparing for months. Luelle was once again saddened by her dancing awkwardness and lack of stage presence, which dampened her spirits for several days. However, combat magic was becoming more readily available to her, and soon she was able to freely supplement all her previously learned techniques with it. “You are still far from being a suitable combat mage or even a magical fighter, Miss Jenkins. You put in a lot of effort, but you lack grace,” the instructor insisted. At first, the agile predator didn’t take the strange rodent’s words seriously, but when she earned her first bronze medal in the best discipline, she allowed her self-doubt to take over. Lack of effort – that’s what Luelle saw before her olive eyes while training. Even Sana couldn’t convince her of the normalcy of what was happening, as the fear of failure had dug deep into the ambitious girl’s soul. Previously, the fox hadn’t cared about failing in certain subjects, but after realizing her incompetence in combat, she began to attach more importance to them. In addition to her nervousness, Jenkins began to feel an unbearable hunger more and more often. Her body, which had been surviving on a herbivorous diet for nearly three years, couldn’t withstand it any longer.