Credere et Frangere
| AT CASTELOBRUXO WITH @Liliya Starkova | TWENTY-FIFTH OF JUNE, 2026 |
For someone who treated the world and its inhabitants like ticking bombs, it seemed like Ilias would never learn his lesson. Another trip abroad. What could possibly go wrong? In Ilias's experience, everything. This time, the Ilvermorny students were under the supervision of their newest Headmaster, Arkady, arguably more present but concerningly spine-less. A few months after the Spring ball fiasco in Scotland—which should have been his last warning to not join these events— he was sweating through his t-shirt in the humid Amazonas winter, though you would never have guessed the season by temperature alone. The tropical climate of the Amazonas felt familiar in a way Hogwarts had not, despite the fact that he had spent the majority of his life in Manhattan and hadn’t visited his roots in Hawaii since he was a toddler, from what he could remember, anyway. Perhaps it was just why he couldn’t handle the humidity, already feeling in dire need of a shower when he stepped inside his assigned Maloca. A small single backpack with the mere necessities was slung over his shoulder and discarded on one of the lush beds, leaving a damp patch on his back where the fabric clung like a second skin. In hindsight, perhaps he should have bought a wider rotation of outfits for the days ahead. For some reason, the lodging had been assigned after the welcome feast, when everyone was already tired and, in Ilias's case, disgusting. And after sitting through the fire-dancing in an already compromised climate, sweat still running down his back, Ilias didn’t even want to imagine what he smelled like, resisting the urge to lift his arm to check the aftermath of the day’s travel. He didn't need to double-check to know that it was bad. Feeling disgusting was bad enough. To his relief, he was alone, sparing himself the embarrassment of visible sweat stains before he could get changed and jump into a shower, wherever they could be found. His first impression was that the school had certainly gone above and beyond to cater to their guests. The maloca was more generous than he’d expected: something he imagined his old English teacher resided in during her yearly vacations to Cabo. Granted, he’d never been there, but he knew from the media that it was a luxurious tourist spot. Outside was a small patio, visible beyond a wooden screen and a light curtain shifting in the air. There were two large beds, so far empty. Pressing a tentative hand into the pillow, he pressed down to test the filling. Soft, he concluded, before lifting his hand and letting it spring back to its original shape. The only thing missing in the picture perfect image was pieces of chocolate resting atop of the fluffy pillows. In this heat, he’d imagined they’d melted into oblivion already. Half the size of one bed would have been more than enough for the boy who would have accepted sleeping on a rotten mattress on the floor if needed. Once upon a time, that had been his reality. His circumstances were marginally better now, but it always felt weird—wrong in a sense—to accept luxuries that were handed to him from people who acted like they had never seen the reality of poverty. Lucky them, he supposed. |
| SEER | INTUITION |
Camille De Varenne | Hogwarts