Oh, that explains what a guy is doing being a Calistrian priest. 

"Sounds great, see you then!"

"See you!"

When Victória makes it to Fig Street, Raimon is already at the school; she can hear his voice, Creating Water, over and over and over.

She's not sure exactly what time it is when she leaves Delegate Ardiaca's house, but she's pretty sure she's running late. She jogs halfway there before she has to slow down and walk, and is only a little late when she arrives. (It seems like there's some other groups of people out on the street, but none of them pass very close to her route.)

"Hi! So, uh, what's the plan?"

"I was starting to think you weren't coming! The plan is that we get everything around the school very wet. Then we break in, take a look around - I see in the dark, we don't need to be too obvious about this - steal any books anybody might want for themselves and get them out of harm's way, I'm thinking drop them off at the temple of Nethys later? He probably likes books? And then once there is nothing of value in danger we torch it and fuck off."

"Sorry!! Talking to the azata took longer than I expected, I hope I'm not too late to be helpful." 

(If you set fire to someone's house sometimes there's someone else living there who doesn't get out. Sometimes you set fire to someone's house and the fire spreads. Sometimes you get the wrong house.)

"The water is to make sure it doesn't set anything else on fire?"

"Yeah, my mom lives five doors down if nothing else. It's a residential neighborhood. I'll probably stick around for a while making sure it goes smoldery and not sparky."

And they're checking the inside before they light it on fire, and he's not going to get the wrong school. See, it's not that hard not to hurt innocent people, as long as you're trying not to.

"Alright! Where do you want me putting the water?"

"I've left all the spots on the ground and the walls that the streetlight hits for you, since you can't see the rest of it!"

"Oh! Thank you." And she starts creating water. It's the spell she's got the most practice with; the water mostly goes where she aims it.

Eventually Raimon calls, "I think that'll do the trick, or if it doesn't it'll fail at it in some way that'll be more obvious when there's sparks to watch. Come around back, shouldn't be anything to trip you on the way, the staff door's thinner than the front."

She follows him around back.

It takes him a few kicks, but the door comes down.

In they go.

"Six classrooms that might have books in 'em," he says, shouldering open an interior door that isn't locked at all. He offers Victòria a sack and starts sticking his hand into the desk compartments. "I haven't been here in so long but I remember all of it... Francesca used to sit right there every day.  It's got a view of her old apartment, out that window, sometimes her little brother would wave to her before he was in school all day too.  She gave me her geography notes for walking her home every day, because there's fences in the way of the direct route, it actually takes ten minutes to get all the way around to that building and it goes through some riskier spots.  She came in last at math a few times and one of them she got infected.  She lived but couldn't walk after that and they let her stop coming to school since she wouldn't be able to get in without help.  Her family moved out of the neighborhood at some point."

She fishes out books and puts them in the sack. She absolutely cannot read the titles in the dark but probably once they've actually set the school on fire Raimon can check whether they're Asmodean propaganda.

She doesn't know Raimon's teacher but she's suddenly deeply upset on behalf of this little girl she never knew, this little girl who deserved better than this. (She hopes someone's tracked down the teacher and put them through a fraction of what their students suffered, but she doesn't have a good angle on that if they haven't.)

"I'm sorry," she says. It feels deeply inadequate but she doesn't know what wouldn't be.

"Tomorrow, some little girl like Francesca is going to wake up and drag herself to school, and - ta-da! It won't be there any more!" he says. "That's really - if someone had burned this place down when I was twelve it would have made my year... oh, they still have this desk with the carving in it... you probably can't see it? I don't know what it's like to not be able to see in the dark - it's got Abril's initials. Abril gave me half her lunch for a month, when Mother wasn't well enough to work and at the same time Abril's orphanage was in the habit of packing everybody's lunch pail with raw corn on the cob that made her sick to her stomach.  One night I was out for a ramble and I spotted a kobold making off with a bag of pears from some shop and I scared it off and took the pears.  I gave her most of them, and she tried to kiss me.  Didn't take rejection great.  I think it would've amounted to nothing, except then I turned in the worst essay and she had to hit me even if she'd never have come up with the idea on her own.  Got a bit too into it.  They marked her for a wizard a bit later.  Haven't seen her since.  I think she was proud."

"I can see that there's a desk there...? I can't see the carving."

She is not entirely sure how she feels about Abril. It's — upsetting, obviously, but the shape of it's more confusing than it was with Francesca.

"...My mom was a wizard. Or, half a wizard, she got kicked out before she managed anything but cantrips, ended up doing laundry and mending for a minor nobleman a ways north of here. She was hoping I'd be one too, she was so upset when I didn't make the cut."

"Did you want to be one?" he asks, confirming the room clear of books and moving on to the next.

"At the time, yeah. I don't wish I'd made it in now." She follows him into the next room.

"I cleaned this one a lot," he says. "Careful, they haven't fixed the sticking-up nail by the chalkboard... I have cleaned this room so many times, feels odd not to have a broom. Vicent convinced one of the teachers to make cleaning the classroom a punishment instead of whippings for a few things.  Less effort for the teacher, you see.  It lasted almost two months before somebody who'd object noticed.   Sometimes I'd stay after with him helping carry in water to scrub the floor and if we got done fast enough we had time to fool around before he was expected home.  He was a year older than me - and the Lord Mayor, nasty piece of work, pulled his name out of a hat or something.  Gave him a pike and a deployment.  I bumped into him six years ago drunk in a tavern in Hinji, not taking 'pay me' for an answer from the girl he was with, and when gentle encouragement to locate his money didn't pan out and neither did offering to fuck him for free, I beat the shit out of him.  I don't think he even recognized me.  Could be it wasn't him, but he answered to the name and I reckon it was.  He would've never - well."

She looks upset about this but is not particularly managing to say words about it!

"I guess in that particular case the army's more to blame than the school. But the school was giving that asshole the names for the hat, so." Books. In sacks. Raimon flips to the inside cover of one. "Huh, this was mine, I thought it looked familiar. Same geography primer after all this time."

"Huh, I'm surprised they haven't changed it! They were always changing things around in our books, one time I got whipped for accidentally forgetting and putting down last year's answer... we didn't do geography specifically, I always assumed it was the same everywhere but I guess maybe not."

"Huh. I found the geography useful but probably could have worked out what I needed with the book and a motivation." He picks up the next one. "And this one used to be Nicolau's! Nicolau was an asshole but he was terribly pretty.  And who knows if he'd have been an asshole if he'd been born anywhere else?  I know, I know they have assholes everywhere.  He was so pretty, though, I like to think what it would've been like if he'd been brought up gentle."

"I think probably it depends on what kind of asshole he was? Like, most places have people who'll hurt people if they think they can get away with it, most places don't have people who'll torture innocent people for not liking Asmodeus, you know?"

"He wasn't especially religious, Nicolau, just liked making cutting remarks and tripping people and things like that. Absolutely gorgeous jawline though. I have no idea where he wound up. The religious kids you always knew where they wound up, they made a point of making sure it was clear. There was Marcel.  Only boy who'd come over to my place to fuck; I only had a bunk with a curtain by way of privacy but he didn't mind.  Avoiding his father, see, he had one of those and didn't recommend it.  He was very serious.  I think the teacher one year was under pressure to come up with more cleric candidates and I swear she'd name anybody who didn't laugh when someone farted.  He went to the big temple, one of the ones Abadar has now, for after-school and weekend seminary classes, and didn't talk about it, but he kept coming over at first, and every week that went by he - touched me a little differently, and when I told him not to come back again he started hitting me till the madam threw him out.  I saw him walking around in Chosen's robes not long after that.  Don't know what became of him after the war."