The Titan Queen - Levi X Reader

Chapter 5 - The Visitors

Her breathing became erratic – desperate, disjointed, in complete disarray.

Still, Isabel flew to the Headmaster's office on swift wings, her heartbeat echoing in her mind. The darkness of the corridor did nothing to halt her running – even if her legs were shaking badly enough to cause her to stumble more than one.

She wouldn't stop running until she reached that damning room at the end – hadn't stopped running since she'd started, practically falling out of her room the moment that she'd opened that letter – the letter now crumpled into her fist.

The double doors were suddenly inches from her face – Isabel would have run into them were it not for the hand that had abruptly grabbed at her shoulder.

She didn't turn around – she should have known that Sasha would have followed her, would have been following her from the moment that Isabel had cried out upon reading the letter. Sasha wouldn't have cared that Isabel had blatantly ignored her – the stoic girl would have done what she always would have – not complained and just taken off right after her friends.

Isabel nodded to the girl – a thank you or a farewell, she wasn't sure – and kicked open the heavy doors, ignoring the bite of pain at her foot as she beheld the room beyond.

Feeling a great weight pressing on her chest even as she left her companion behind to keep watch, Isabel stepped into the room – trying not to gag at the smell of alcohol. The fire cackled at her lowly in its grate, the dim level of light flickering around the room. Lights bounced off the bottles and mirrors that Pixis kept around his room; Isabel scrunched her nose up in disgust as she considered what was in those bottles – the source of the smell, undoubtedly. The mirrors, she understood - every assassin understood the uses and weaknesses for using mirrors.

Pixis was just another assassin, dressed in a pretty role and doused in drink.

It didn't make him any less deadly – Isabel supposed that it only made him more so.

But he didn't look that way at precisely that moment – much less a fearsome war leader and more of a drunken uncle, sprawled in the great armchair by that stupid, leering fire. Isabel scowled at the flames before directing that same scowl to her grinning headmaster, walking steadily closer until she came to a stop in front of him. "Miss Magnolia. How may I help you this fine evening?"

Isabel bit back the retort that it was much less evening and more very, very early in the morning. Instead she forced herself to swallow, floundering for the right words. "I – I found a letter after my team caused the game to finish –"

"It was very well played," Pixis acknowledged, inclining his head. "In fact, I cannot remember a time where your team didn't guess it."

He was wrong – there were numerous times where other teams beat their makeshift team to the criminal's body. But Isabel was not about to correct him – whether due to her own pride or due to her trepidation at the smell of his breath, she didn't bother to think. "My team are strong."

"Of course – all specializing in something different, am I correct?"

Isabel rolled her eyes. "It doesn't matter."

"Not yet. Only second years, and so strong. Cherish this time, Miss Magnolia. You haven't got long until you have to make your choice."

It was common knowledge that after the three years of training, a student could choose between the three mainstream careers – guarding the walls, guarding the King, or becoming a scout. Isabel didn't know why Pixis was bothering to bring it up now.

"I'm not here to talk about my future in a couple of years," Isabel said, watching as Pixis huffed a laugh.

"No. You're here to beg for my assistance."