Chapter Text
— What a wonderful day!
Lemon was on her way to the workshop, intending to spend her time usefully: she had long wanted to make a veil for Creamy, the toy profiterole-girl she had bestowed upon the master of her heart, Mash Burnedead. During her last trip into the city, Lemon had bought some very cute little flowers that would make a lovely wreath. Well, and she already had the fabric; Lemon had started gathering her trousseau from the very day sweet Mash had appeared in her life. She and Creamy would have matching accessories, isn't that just delightful! Maybe she could even carry Creamy at the wedding instead of a bridal bouquet?..
In a cloud of sweet fantasies, Lemon descended to the lower floor, where on either side of a long corridor lay the workshops, a room for broom repairs, and a pet corner, with an exit to the magical plants' greenhouse at the very end. Lemon pushed the heavy door, regretting that Mash wasn't nearby — now he would've helped with his left hand alone! — and then, still picturing her wedding attire, settled into an armchair and placed her sewing basket beside her.
And only then did she realize she wasn't alone in the workshop.
In the far part of the room, near the fireplace, sat Lang's Prefect and… oh, really, was he knitting? Lemon blinked, but indeed, there was Abel Walker, there was his basket of yarn balls, and in his hands was something blue and fluffy, and he was periodically glancing attentively at a doll sitting beside him. The look he bestowed upon Lemon was far more indifferent. Well, this hobby of his seemed less dangerous than the previous ones, so Lemon decided to hold off on fleeing. After all, the workshops were communal! And besides, Abel was a decent guy, though, of course, no Mash… She took out the flowers and began weaving a miniature wreath. And so they sat, each minding their own business, with only the clicking of needles breaking the silence.
Suddenly, the closed door made a strange clanking sound. Startled, Lemon leaned out of her chair and saw two things: a massive bolt, sparkling with magical energy, materializing on the door's sturdy wooden surface, and Abel Walker jerking to his feet, holding a knitting needle in a combat stance. Immediately, a voice rang out from above:
— Attention all students! Alert! Emergency on the lower floor! Teachers and prefects, code orange, I repeat, code orange!
Lemon terribly wanted to be behind Mash's reliable back, but only Abel was nearby. Even with yarn balls scattered around him, he looked quite collected and ready to defend — Abel had already swapped the knitting needle for his wand, repositioning the doll holding it more comfortably. In its half-knitted blue cap, the doll seemed even more frightening than usual, but they were on the same side of the door, so let whoever was outside be afraid, right? Just in case, Lemon slowly put her sewing back into the basket and drew her own wand, secretly hoping she wouldn't have to use it.
A thumping sound came from the corridor. It didn't sound like steps, but more like large balls hitting the floor. Something bumped against the lower part of the door a couple of times, not too hard, and Lemon squealed. Abel, however, wasted no time — huge puppets that had appeared out of nowhere moved several tables in front of the door, which he then reinforced with strengthening charms. Then Abel beckoned Lemon over and used her armchair to bolster the barricade.
— Don't be afraid, — he said in an utterly calm voice. — Orange isn't the worst that could happen. Though yellow code is more common, I dealt with something similar last year. The Academy has taken care of us by locking us in here, I've done what I could, now all that's left is to wait. You're Mash Burnedead's friend, right?
— Actually, I'm his fiancée! Mash will definitely come to save me!
— I don't doubt it, — said Abel, continuing to watch the door. — I've already figured out that for his friends and… fiancée… Mash would go anywhere. By the way, here he turned his gaze to his interlocutress, I would like to sincerely apologize to you once again for testing that theory empirically.
Lemon looked at him carefully — Abel was completely serious. Perhaps the magic of Mash's fists really did influence people for the better. How lucky she was with him…
— Apology accepted! — she said importantly, and immediately squealed in fright as the thumping and jumping sounds returned: it seemed there were more things moving down the corridor. Screams, squeals, and the clanging of metal reached the workshop; Lemon thought she heard the familiar sounds of explosions. Music roared, drowning out the noise. The puppets continued to guard the furniture barrier but stood calmly.
— I think they'll manage without us, said Abel, and looked with annoyance at his unfinished little cap. Alright, since we have to wait for the all-clear… want to play cards?
With the gesture of a professional magician, he produced a deck of colorful cards. A black dragon, guarding a pile of gold, grinned at Lemon from the top card.
— I'm afraid you'll find playing with me boring. I don't know that game and I'll be a very dull opponent. However, since you love cards so much… I can tell your fortune! On the one and only Lemon Tarot!
And with an identical motion, Lemon shook out from her sleeve that without which no proper witch would leave the house — her fortune-telling deck. The cards were slightly narrower and longer than Abel's playing cards, and their backs were adorned with a pattern of little lemons.
— Go on, pick any three, and I'll tell your fate! — she encouraged Abel, who was staring at her hands. Lemon plopped down right on the floor and shuffled the cards. Abel crouched beside her, carefully set the doll aside, taking its wand — he had relaxed his vigilance somewhat, but not lost it completely. He reached out towards the deck and hesitated over it. Lemon thought his fingers were trembling slightly.
— Let's say… this one, this one, and this one. May I turn them over?
Lemon had made the cards herself, and so Abel saw strange creatures resembling Mash's favorite dessert. The first card depicted a plump knight with a raised sword that looked like a dessert knife, the second featured a grinning profiterole-skull rolling over tiny people, and the third showed a winged pastry blessing a pair of smaller pastries. Lemon gave the pictures an appraising look, then looked at Abel, furrowed her brow, looked at Abel again, and began to speak.
— So, well, here we have the Knight of Swords, Death, and The Lovers. You see, the knight charges forward, and then even though it's scary, the death isn't real, it's like a transition… Well, and in the future — a choice and true love. Overall, I think something around you is changing now, you'll decide something, and it will affect your relationships, a new stage will begin. You need to think, stop fearing change, and take a step towards new opportunities! The cards usually say more than what's drawn on them, they carry hidden meanings… Hey, are you listening to me?
Abel indeed looked like he was somewhere far away, and only the crash of the collapsing barricade, no longer supported by his magical concentration, brought him back to his senses. He jumped to his feet, grabbing his wand and aiming it at the door, but it was quiet outside: the sounds of battle and the music had died down. The wooden soldiers had returned to their posts, and at that moment the voice sounded above their heads again:
— Attention all students! All-clear! The danger has passed, I repeat, all-clear. Teachers and prefects, code green, code green!
The bolt clanked and disappeared. Lemon watched as the puppets moved the furniture back into place while Abel impatiently peered into the corridor to confirm it was safe. Everything was calm, and only a few figures in robes flashed at the end of the corridor, moving away. Abel hurriedly gathered the yarn balls into his basket and picked up the doll.
— I can walk you to your common room. Are you coming?
— No, you go, I'll stay here.
Lemon shook her head. The wreath wouldn't finish itself, and since the danger was over, why not spend the time as she had originally intended. Already with one foot in the corridor, Abel turned around and gave her a intense look:
— So, my fate is the Swordsman, Death, and The Lovers, is it? And a new stage of life will begin? Well, thank you for the reading.
And he hurriedly set off down the corridor towards his own dormitory. Lemon looked from the now closed door to the deck she still held in her hands.
— Where is that Mash dawdling? But of course he's looking for me, meanwhile let me read a card for myself, will Mash propose to me today? Aaaand… Judgement? Hm… Well, of course he will, judgement is all about something official! I'll change my status, from Miss Irvin to Mrs. Burnedead, how wonderful! I need to finish sewing that veil urgently!
But that evening, the faculty common rooms were set abuzz by completely different news.
Rayne Ames received a reprimand for the audacious escape of rabbits from the pet corner, which disrupted lessons for several classes.
Margarette Macaron hit an incredible magical note that ensured the successful defense of the floor, but once again refused to participate in the exam to become a Divine Visionary.
Abel Walker had knelt before Abyss Razor and confessed his love to him.
Mutually.