Martyr's Quad

by Helen W

Sometimes she likes to wander the College late at night, in bare feet. No reason, really; she just likes to feel the stone under her soles. Up the winding staircases, through silent libraries and locked halls. Down to the still quadrangle by the stream, properly named Lanchester for some ancient Dean, but which everyone calls Martyr's Quad. That’s for the saplings - one for every student Marius burned. They're growing strong and healthy, aided by clement weather and drops of sacred blood left by passing sorcerers. In the moonlight, the trees almost resemble slender women, arms raised to the sky.