It was no grand secret that Soryk had something of a love-hate relationship with the academy. The changes and foreign concepts were obnoxious at best and he never had been too good with change. Survival, yes. But it never meant he had to actually enjoy the process. And at first, he didn't.

That being said...

Much of what she said resonated with him, even though he didn't immediately show it. Instead, he gave into an eventual slow nodding and looked aside. "Yes..." he began with heavy thought and consideration. "I do believe I understand very well what you mean."

I am poor with making allies here, he thought to himself. Yet a part of me has begun attempting to change that. Spreading a poison about is no good way to do that. Punishing a majority of innocents and pulling you into it—and Vianca or others—hardly seems wise on my part. I should have realised that sooner.

"I..." Except how to voice what he wanted to say, because for as direct and blunt as he could be over trivial subjects, when it came to the heart, he'd somewhat forgotten how to use his. Although he'd tried with Zelda time and time again. And she had been patient, hadn't she? "...feel much the same way," came the somewhat cowardly remark, which wasn't untrue, but certainly not what he'd meant to say.