Chapter Text
“Of the many noble families that helped create the Crystal Kingdom, the Valdronas are the best known, for it was they who were chosen to ascend to the throne after the victory of the Five Warrior clans. A hundred and fifty years ago, the world was chaos. Creatures of the Abyss, five-limbed, dead-eyed, fanged-mouthed monsters ruled the countryside, stealing away humans to kill or keep. Humans survived by stubborn spite and luck, fighting back with magic they barely understood and banding together to drive the monsters off.
And while that routine worked, it was unsustainable.
The Five Warriors clans organized to fight off the creatures of the abyss, and it was them who led us to victory. The stout Avacados, farmers and landkeepers with a deep understanding of the soil. The clever Reeveses, weavers and engineers. The charming Blakes, skilled fighters and clever chemists. The stalwart Rogers, quick on their feet and quicker to defend. The wily Draculas, crafty and privy to knowledge that could change the world.
The Warriors Five made a pact to defend their home, to drive away the Abyss Creatures for good. It was a long, complicated endeavor, one that took magic, cooperation, and time. They learned how to build borders that Abyss Creatures could not pass.
In the years before the Crystal Kingdom was created, magic was weak and underused, each mage learning from scratch and dying before they made it very far.
Post defeat, darkness was driven away and kept as such with tricks learned from the Abyss Creatures kept captive.
Tale of the warriors’ victory and the safe space they created spread, and refugees began to gather. They began to build cities, civilization, now that they could live long enough and devote energy to such.
Then came the creatures that escaped the Abyss. Intelligent, kindly human-passing creatures who couldn’t walk in sunlight and drank blood. Families a little too prone to raw meat, who turned into something else under a full moon. Undying creatures, stitched together from pet humans who barely survived.
They were welcomed, not with open arms, but willingly. Abyss Creatures were threat enough to leave all other concerns behind.
As the city grew, so did the need for oversight. It was then that the Immortal Lord Valdronya rose to power, supported by the Warriors Five. And the Crystal Kingdom has flourished under his reign for three hundred years!
Some of the most well recorded victories are the banishment of Red Beard’s Ghost Ship, the establishment of the gladiator pits in the temple of Ascoobus, and the defeat of the witch Morgana.
***
History assignments were always the easiest for Velma to do. Her parents ran the local museum and library. Not the bookstore, that was run by the Merlin brothers, but the library was full of books too precious to sell.
She brushed her skirt absently as she finished her spiel - she could recite the museum’s in her sleep, and while she did write her own report on the history of the Crystal Kingdom, she memorized it with the same technique and recited it with the familiar cadence.
Velma could memorize just about anything, and though she didn’t like singing, she’d been told that she had a future as a bard if she ever worked past her stage fright.
Gibby Norton watched longingly as she returned to her seat, only jolted out of it when Professor Lawrence cleared her throat pointedly.
He scrambled out of his seat, stuttering in that too-jubilant way of his, and launched into a report on farming with magic crops in the areas of the kingdom that were too dry to grow properly, and the civil war that had nearly started when someone poisoned Avacados land.
The worst part of the report was that it was good. Gibby’s work was always good, on parr with Velma’s own, and that was probably half the reason he was infatuated with her - if Velma couldn’t imagine marrying someone who couldn’t keep up with her, why would he?
Gibby’s was the last report of the day; Professor Lawerence often set the class on little quests to teach their own lessons, it helped keep everyone engaged and especially for the older kids, it gave them the chance to look at things a little deeper. Deeper than was acceptable for the young kids in class but still so important to know.
“Oh hey Velma,” Gibby said, sidling up to her as Velma started draping her scarf around her head. “Do you want to compare notes on how Morgana’s reign nearly destroyed the nearby villages’ crop yields and how that led into the research problem that created the Abyss Crops?”
If it were anyone other than Gibby asking, yes, she actually would. Abyss Crops were such an interesting development, although- “The Abyss Crops weren’t wholefold created by that project, the spell that was invented to avoid another Morgana Famine created the Abyss Sludge that was then used to grow Abyss Crops. It also affects animals and sometimes post-harvest foods.”
“See! I knew you’d be a great person to talk to about this!” Gibby cheered. “I found mention of the Abyss Sludge but not what it did or how it led to Abyss Crops.” He perched himself on Velma’s desk, and she resigned herself to the conversation.
Gibby had a large nose, brown eyes, and black hair that he’d mastered keeping impressively short - mostly so he could wear ornate hats without it catching. The Nortons ran what passed for Banning Junction’s Boutique and Tailor’s shop, although they mostly catered to tourists since residents made the majority of their own clothes.
This meant he was dressed in bright colors all the time, aposematic and loud, with too many tassels to fiddle with and get caught on things.
“Here, I’ll walk you home, and you can show me the book you read on it!”
Velma grimaced, leaning away. “Actually, I think I need to-”
“Velma, I’d like to talk to you.”
Saved by Professor Lawrence. “You go on ahead, Gibby.”
“Alright Velma, but if you wanna talk, you know where to find me!" Gibby bounced off. Velma sighed gratefully. Blowing Gibby off was an art- he didn’t waver at any sort of denial, no matter how blatant or gracious, and he was weird enough that her parents thought he would be a cute husband for her, the two of them making little scholar babies for the rest of time. Velma would rather claw off her skin.
“How may I help you, Professor?”
Professor Lawrence smiled at Velma. “Why don’t you come up here? I want to introduce you to our visitor.”
Visitor? Had the presentations today been audited?
Velma was so distracted by Gibby that she hadn’t noticed. She was usually more aware than that.
“This is Windsor,” Professor Lawrence began. “He’s a scholar from Littlefoot castle.”
“Oh?” Velma glanced over, hoping her pitch jump would be overlooked.
Windsor had had jewel rimmed glasses and short cut auburn hair. She’d like to cut her own hair that short, she thought. It would be much easier to care for.
“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Dinkley,” Windsor said. “I’m apprentice to Doctor Svankmajer, someone I think you may know.”
“I’ve heard of her, yes.” Velma smiled politely, strangling the hope and glee that tried to bubble up. She couldn’t make a fool of herself while talking to a historian’s apprentice, if she became a historian at the Capitol then everyone would remember her.
“Well, I’m almost finished with my apprenticeship, so Doctor Svankmajer is looking for a second apprentice.”
Velma’s heart jumped. No, no way. She was being too optimistic. Even if this was the only logical explanation-
“Janet wrote us an application for you.”
Velma glanced at Professor Lawrence, surprised. “They did?”
“You’re the smartest kid to come through our school in decades,” she said. “The least we could do is get you an interview.”
“Thank you,” Velma said, breathless. “I- was my presentation the interview?” Oh, she hoped not, she hadn’t put enough work into it for that!
“That was the pre-interview,” Windsor said. “You passed with flying colors. Next, if you agree, is meeting with Doctor Svankmajer herself.”
A meeting? With Doctor Svankmajer?
“Yes,” Velma said. “I- absolutely, yes! Where, and when?” What should she wear? Should she bring some of her papers? Could she bring her papers? Would that be presumptuous?
“Tomorrow, after class,” Windsor said, smiling cutely. “Just the three of us. You can invite your parents along, but they can’t be there for the interview itself.”
Velma nodded. “Okay. Okay, yes, thank you!” She was going to explode, excitement and pride and hope bubbling up like an explosion.
“See you then,” Professor Lawrence said with a wink. Velma nodded again, rocking on her heels.
She left the classroom in a flurry, and the schoolhouse in a blur. The Banning Junction schoolhouse was one of the largest schools outside of the Capitol, but that just meant they had four whole rooms to split students between. Banning Junction was the knock-off Capitol, the second best, where people who couldn’t survive the Capitol or hated being so close to the castle and the dutchies, and Velma had always nursed a quiet, secret dream of visiting the Capitol. Visiting all of the Crystal Kingdom, traveling everywhere, learning everything, and then coming back to teach it.
“Hey Velma!” Gibby said, trying to step in front of her, but Velma dodged him, too elated to consider things like politeness and tact.
“Gotta go bye!” Velma stumbled, then picked up her skirt and took off running.
This was… this was perfect, it was everything, it could be a dream come true.
Velma could get out of Banning Junction, could get away from Gibby Norton and his heedless devotion, could make a name for herself in her own right, rather than her parents’ curio of magical creatures and her uncle’s taxidermy.
She could see the country.
See the Capitol’s library.
She burst through the door of the museum, dodging the stuffed simulacrum of a werewolf that guarded the entrance. “Mom, Dad, I have an apprenticeship interview!”
Something dropped in the inner room of the museum. Feet pattered against the ceiling, and Madelyn poked her head around the wall that hid the staircase. “With who? Madame Rumblebuns?”
Velma shook her head. “Doctor Svankmajer.”
“As in the royal historian?” Madelyn shrieked.
Velma nodded rapidly.
Madelyn scrambled the rest of the way downstairs, her red gown torn at the hems and patched around the knees from constant spelunking. “For real? For real for real?”
“For real. It makes no sense, but her apprentice was at school today and he said she was looking for a new one and that I could meet her after school tomorrow and-” Velma cut off with a shriek like a kettle left on the fire too long.
“That’s amazing!” Dad shouted, spinning Velma in a hug. “I’m so proud of you!”
“How?” Mom asked, setting a vase painted with the legend of Valdrona’s Rise on a plinth. “Why here? Banning Junction is nothing to the Capitol scholars.”
“Professor Lawrence wrote her, apparently?”
“And she came?”
Another set of rapid, disbelieving nods.
“Velma, that’s amazing honey!” Mom joined the hug, squeezing with disproportionate strength. “When is the interview? Oh! We have to get you a dress-”
“There’s not time to make one,” Velma said quickly, shaking her head. “It’s tomorrow, mom.”
Mom whistled. “Oh. Maybe we can borrow one of Marcy’s?”
“She’s so much taller than me.” Marcy’s dresses always made Velma look like a child who snuck into her mother’s closet. Velma was taller than her mother! Still shorter than most of Banning Junction, though.
“But she makes stupid fancy dresses,” Madelyn pointed out. “It’ll have to be good enough. And if you wear one of your shawls-”
Mom hummed, stepped back to tug at the dress around Velma’s shoulders and adjust the scarf Velma had lain over her pinned up hair.
Velma’s shawls were some of the most expensive things she owned. Mom made them, using lovingly dyed and homespun yarn. They were full of intricate lace, and on the rare occasions someone asked Mom to make them one on commission they were worth enough gold for three cows.
A single shawl would be enough for a dowry.
Velma had six of them, each treasured.
She swallowed. “Do you think that it’ll be needed?”
“One can hope that a scholar such as the Royal Historian would have other priorities, but it can’t hurt,” Dad said pensively.
“Okay.” That made sense. Velma would blend in better if she looked like she had the money for fancy dresses… unless Doctor Svankmajer was looking for a rags to riches apprentice? No, that was unnecessary paranoia. Surely the doctor wouldn’t bother coming all the way out here for a random historian’s daughter if she needed a good story for the bards to tell. “Do you think she’ll take me on?” Velma asked quietly.
“Of course she will,” Madelyn said brightly. “It’s you. You’re gonna walk into that interview and win over the doctor’s heart, and then go to the Capitol and be top of every single class.”
“Except the magic ones,” Velma said, surprised to find her voice cracking.
“Eh, if anyone asks you can say you have an adorable sister with such magic prowess.”
Velma laughed. She reached over and scrubbed her knuckles against Madelyn’s hair, loose under the partial veil she wore to mage classes. Madelyn shrieked and pushed Velma away.
“Aw, I’m so proud of you!” Mom shrieked, squeezing the girls close. “My girls, the next Royal Historian and the next Royal Magician!”
“Mom!”
But Mom’s excitement was infectious, and Velma couldn’t help but hope.
*
In the end, Madelyn and Mom won out, and Velma attended school in one of Marcy’s yellow dresses, the hem pinned up so she wouldn’t step on it. Madelyn wove good luck charms into Velma’s hair before they left to their respective schools, - Velma attended Banning Junction’s main schoolhouse, but Madelyn had enough of magic to be tutored with Banning Junction’s other three mages by Agnes Banning and Whirlen Merlin - and Dad helped pin her shawl in place.
Velma spent most of her lessons too nervous to pay attention. Thankfully, Professor Lawrence knew why she was distracted and tactfully drew attention away from Velma whenever too much came her way. Velma could still answer questions - she had memorized most of the books in the city, she went to school because the teachers had personal anecdotes to teach from, and those were the only new things she could get her hands on.
The interview started with Doctor Svankmajer sitting across a small table from Velma. The stories and occasional record updates came with descriptions and pictures, but it was different to see the legend in person. Doctor Svankmajer had discovered so much about Abyss Creatures, unearthing and assembling entire skeletons of creatures that hadn’t even been known to have bones. She had dark blue eyes and curling, sunny blonde hair, which was pinned back into a bun threaded with bones.
Velma wanted to be her.
Her dress had the folding collar that the capitol favored, done in a muddy green with some sort of paneling on the skirt that Velma had never seen before. Even in Marcy’s borrowed gown, Velma felt underdressed.
The first questions were about Velma herself. Did she have many friends? Just Marcie - Marcie Fleach, the Butcher’s Daughter, not Marcy Dinkley, her cousin - so not really. Did she believe in ghosts? There had been evidence of them, actually, and Velma believed in what she could see and prove. What skill would Velma say would be most effective for this position? Memorization, probably, and Velma’s teased about ‘endless drive’ when it came to puzzles.
“Oh?” The Doctor said, eyebrows raising. “You enjoy solving puzzles?”
“I do. My sister says I put too much of my attention towards solving the mysteries of the world.”
“Mysteries?”
Velma blushed at Svankmajer’s tone. She couldn’t tell if it was a good tone, but it sounded indulgent. Was indulgent good? Or did indulgent mean the Doctor was writing Velma off as too young and naive to be her apprentice?
“I like being able to explain things.”
“Oh, it’s not a bad thing!” The Doctor said, tone bright again, “in fact, I was looking for an apprentice who liked mysteries - to be a historian is to solve the mystery of the past, and I am happily building a team of investigators.”
Velma sighed gently, trying not to let her relief be too visible. A team of investigators? Wanted Velma? That would be a dream come true!
She could travel, and learn things, and her name would be known and she could build things to improve lives and people would use them and- Velma checked herself. She didn’t have the apprenticeship yet.
“It would be an honor, if I could join that team,” Velma said carefully.
“And we would love to have you. There’s just one more thing, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Velma shook her head. As long as it wasn’t something ridiculous, she’d do a lot for this apprenticeship.
The Doctor stood up, waving Windsor over. He came, and unlocked a dark wooden chest Velma had never seen before. “Windsor and I brought some clothing on our travels, I want to see what sort of ensemble you’d make out of them.”
Velma looked at the fabric in the chest, and then back up at the historians. “Just make outfits out of these? Not in any particular style?”
“Not in any particular style,” the Doctor agreed. “Just… do what feels right.”
Velma turned back to the chest, frowning. Fashion wasn’t her forte. She knew the basics, enough to recognize a Lady on the road and not embarrass herself or offend anyone, and she had listened to Gibby and Marcy’s various monologues about fashion, but Velma hadn’t actually paid much attention to the intricacies of court wear.
Or knight wear.
She knelt, and tried not to psych herself out. This was a test, yes, but she didn’t know what she was being tested on. Velma rubbed the white cloth of one of the shirts, a soft linen, and decided that the worst she could do was get it wrong.
She started pulling out the clothing, piling them loosely together by feel.
All of the purple fabric was incredibly soft, and most of the orange fabric was knitted like the shawl she had for late nights reading by the light of a cold, moon-bright night.
Okay. Velma could do this. Solve the mystery, make the outfits. Impress the royal historian.
White linens, over there. Purple silk, here. Green silk with the purple. Green linen in its own pile. Armor near the white linen, since it was strong enough to guard skin from the metal. Orange knits started a new pile, and Velma set a red linen skirt with it.
Velma stalled on the trousers. There was a deep red set, like clay, and a blue set as bright as a poisonous frog belly.
They were the same fabric, only slightly different cuts.
She didn’t know men’s trousers styles. One had to go to a knight, and one to the squire.
Velma had to guess.
She put the blue trousers with the white linens, and the red with the green. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be incorrect.
Shoes next, black and red and purple and orange. The orange shoes went with the blue and white outfit, complimenting a handkerchief that Velma was sure didn’t go with the orange outfit. Black shoes to the green and red outfit, purple slippers with the purple and green set. Red shoes with the soft orange knits.
Velma breathed out slowly, looking between the outfits. There was a sense of rightness to how they sat together, how the colors played off each other in order. Maybe some of Marcy’s monologues had stuck.
“I’m finished.” Velma looked up.
Doctor Svankmajer and Windsor were watching from much closer than Velma thought they had been, and they both looked… pleased.
Oh thank goodness, that had to be a good sign, right?
Doctor Svankmajer clapped her hands. “That was perfect, Miss Dinkley. You passed with flying colors, if you’re still interested in an apprenticeship after all of this, we should call in your parents and start on your contract.”
She got the apprenticeship.
Velma passed.
Her parents were waiting outside. They’d closed the museum and taken the afternoon off, planning to celebrate or commiserate depending on how it went.
Mom caught her in a hug, which Velma returned wholeheartedly.
“How did it go?” Mom asked.
“Your daughter is amazing,” Doctor Svankmajer said, following Velma outside. “Truly, a one of a kind girl, and it would be an honor to study with her.”
Mom pulled out of the hug and scanned Velma’s face. “And this is what you want, honey?”
Velma swallowed, but nodded. Apprenticing to a historian as well known as Svankmajer was the first step to Velma achieving her dreams. Madelyn would be around to carry on the museum around her mage endeavors.
They didn’t need Velma home too.
“For what it’s worth, I think she would do well in the capitol,” Windsor added, smiling gently. “Really, I do!”
“Of course she would!” Dad said brightly. “Our pumpkin is the smartest girl around. The capitol won’t know what hit them.”
Velma smiled, relief and excitement crashing across her spine with the force of a thousand dogpiles. “Thank you, for taking me on.”
“Oh, no,” Doctor Svankmajer shook her head, voice warm. “Thank you, for taking this opportunity. I think we’ll learn a lot from each other.”