For once, Ty’s night was dreamless.

  She wasn’t sure if it was fatigue or the fear of the others finding out about her once well-guarded secret, but she soon realized none of it mattered because she was dangerously close to being late for her meeting with Darius.

  Putting her timepiece down, wincing, she got out of bed, feeling a familiar sense of nausea and sharp pounding in her head. Medicine, her mind pleaded as she shuffled her way over to her room’s storage area across from her bed, regretting the extra rest and doing her best not to hurl.

  She knelt in front of a brown, wooden medicine chest, grabbing one of the many unmarked packets with one hand and her cup beside the chest with another—disgusted for a second that it wasn’t fresh before reason took over. The dark powder was dropped into her mouth, followed by water, and immediately the queasiness started to subside.

  Ty let her head hang and sighed loudly, taking a moment to feel the excess anima leaving her before speaking a thorough Vaporize spell for the rest of the water in the cup before carrying on with the rest of her morning routine.

  Feeling much better than earlier, she first headed to her nightstand and grabbed her morning washing bag before putting on a light blouse, blue mid-length skirt, dark, long woolen socks, and flat shoes. She stuffed her notes into her bag, took her cloak also, and rushed out of the door to the empty communal washing area, where she spent a few minutes cleaning herself up and making sure she looked presentable.

  With five minutes left to reach the school’s smithy, Ty could not help but abruptly stop mid-gait to catch Elias eating food out of a bowl in the common-room kitchen.

  Stopping as well to look at her with wide, fearful eyes, Elias blinked.

  No words left the stupefied tactician’s mouth.

  And then Elias blinked several more times before slowly putting another spoonful of what looked like fruit and porridge into his mouth.

  “…Elias?” Ty asked slowly and sternly.

  “…Ty?” he responded with a sheepish grin and a mouthful of oats.

  Unable to believe his nonchalance, Ty looked at her timepiece again. “Elias,” she continued calmly, “aren’t you supposed to be in supplemental class with Faris and Alex right now?”

  Looking from side to side first, realizing that no one else was around to save him, he held out a finger to Ty, got up from his seat, and then ran away to the dorms at such speed that there was no chance that Ty could have ever caught up to him.

  Letting out a loud sigh, she continued on her way to the workshops near the front of the schoolgrounds, making a mental note to reprimand Elias later for skipping class for the second time that week.

  Passing buildings and courtyards, cloak and bag in her arm, she couldn’t help but notice that the main courtyard was as busy as ever: students were chatting and eating, others setting up what looked like a stage in the center, and some were standing by to watch everything unfold.

  There was something untouchable and ephemeral in the unity and togetherness—though alone had she been the entire time since arriving, a part of her wanted to be there instead of watching. Doing something, instead of standing frozen to watch the world turn around her.

  I do not resent being alone, she chided herself—not for the first time—as she stifled her feelings and walked quickly through the decorative Great Hall with its historical artifacts and documents over to the workshops by the front of the school.

  Class 1-A’s shop was near the end of the row of smithy buildings, which had a good view of the Lycean Plains and the lively village just under the hill. A small wooden sign with her class number dangled from a small building, and steam rose from the back, accompanied by the faint smell of bread.

  Curious, she peeked her head through the doorway.

  Darius and Korinna were standing at a workbench, hovering over what looked like plates, mugs, and papers while a hooded Selene sat on a stool with her head resting on the desk. The kiln at the back looked like it had recently been used, its warm glow reflected in the shelves of material and weapons lining the walls.

  It didn’t take long for the two facing the doorway to notice Ty’s presence. Darius wordlessly waved at her to come in, and Korinna stood up from her seat, wiping her hands on her skirt. “Right on time,” the chemist commented, stacking the plate that had been in front of her on top of an empty one to the side. “Before you say anything, it was just a snack. We didn’t eat anything dangerous; I would know.”

  As little as Ty knew about the principles of social conduct, she knew the advantage of keeping her silence in front of Korinna, who admittedly possessed a great deal of ingeniousness, but whose brazen attitude and confidence was a two-edged sword; and the more she spent time around her, the more she realized that keeping quiet may not have even been something she was capable of.

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  “That’s alright,” Ty responded mildly, stepping inside and looking around, noting not just the source of the sweet smell—bread being made with their kiln, to great appall—but the pile of books sitting in the corner of the workshop. I should check that in case I get in trouble. Darius must have moved it in after I did my first-day check.

  “I have your list, Darius,” she said instead, turning around to face her weaponsmith, who was standing behind the bench and observing Ty intently. “I’ve cross-checked it with our class allotment for this semester, and we should have enough material.” She reached into her bag, pulled out the stack of papers she had worked on the night before, and set them down in front of him.

  “Good,” he nodded promptly, barely skimming the materials before taking a pencil off the desk and walking to the back of the room. “Two weeks.”

  The sound of him moving around must have woken up Selene, because she shot up from her seat once he turned away, pulling down her hood and smoothing her uniform embarrassedly. “Hi, class leader,” she squeaked. “I was waiting for you to show up.”

  Ty tilted her head, in the middle of taking her notebook out. “For?”

  “I, um, wanted to ask to see if I could use my free period to work with Darius, because I really think he could help with my—”

  “Hey!”

  Everyone in the room turned to Korinna, who folded her arms indignantly across her chest. “I thought it was going to be me!”

  Selene didn’t even shirk, retorting in a similarly indignant tone, “Can you at least let me finish my sentence?”

  “Okay, but next time we gotta discuss how we’re gonna do this stuff.”

  “Or maybe I’ll do it again next time to piss you off.”

  In a state of disbelief, wondering if she should intervene, Ty turned around to see if Darius was hearing what she was hearing. Selene had always been nothing but shy and reticent with her—had she missed something?

  Though he was too occupied with his inventory check to reciprocate the baffled look, she had a feeling that he knew she was looking when he shrugged ever so slightly.

  Korinna laughed once, quick and sharp. “Both you and I know this takes more effort for you than it does for me.”

  Her sparring partner shot her a glare, put her hood back on, and then gathered her belongings before stomping away. “I’m going to be in the courtyard when you want to apologize.”

  That didn’t phase Korinna at all, who only dropped her arms to her side once Selene was safely out of earshot, snapping, “What? This is like, a chance of a lifetime. Why else would I be here?”

  Ty finished penning in a few lines under her notes on Selene and gave her classmate an unenthusiastic look. “If you’re going to make your entire time here at the school about him, I’d really prefer if you just told me right now.”

  Unfortunately, the chemist could not be stopped. “Listen.” She walked up to Ty and grabbed her by the shoulders. “This isn’t about the small picture. This isn’t about these childish little play-battles and training we do here at school.” Her grip was steadfast and strong, her eyes filled with pure determination. “This is about what happens after. This is about winning the favor of the people, the others who are trying to ruin this great thing we have, who still can’t see what greatness magic can achieve. The people who we’re fighting for at this very moment. This is about us. Our future. The future of the Academy of the Graces, no less, the future of magic. We need these Ancients on our side. Why would they be so submissive and servile if not for our gain?”

  The silence following her small speech was so unnatural and long that Ty thought time had stopped.

  But then the Ancient spoke. “Kor, go,” he said simply. “We are people. Not slaves for research.”

  Her hands slowly relinquished their grip from Ty’s shoulders as she processed the acrid words, remaining rooted in her spot until Darius finally started walking and she recoiled.

  “One day, you will understand,” he said far too gently and compassionately, walking to the door and gesturing to it. “Today, you go.”

  Just like Selene, she gathered up her belongings and walked out without another word.

  Darius, having returned to checking inventory right after she had begun walking out, only spoke after a few minutes, weighing his words carefully. “You understand. You are not them. But you are not us, either.”

  She finally let her jaw relax and took in a deep breath. “Did…you know from day one?”

  “Before.”

  Ty spun around, pulse quickening. “What?”

  “You are…” His pencil left the paper as he searched for a word. “You are...story. My people know of you.”

  “What story?”

  Darius shook his head, walking over to the workbench and putting down Ty’s sheets along with one he had added himself. “Is sad story. Bad. To hope is to hurt. No more hurt.”

  Unprompted, again, she heard herself say, “Did the Headmistress tell you anything?”

  He chuckled, looking down at the paper he had scribbled on. It was script—script she could not understand, though she was half-Ancient. “No. But there was professor. He ask for medicine.”

  Nate.

  “Tell me,” she started, staring at the letters and trying to remember if Nate had felt any different to her, “was he like me?”

  “Yes, and no.” Darius stared at the paper he had written, expression sad and severe again. “He is sad for different reason.” He shook his head. “He know much. Much more than I. Broken.”

  “Broken?”

  “Incomplete. Crack. Like sword, when use long time.”

  I am a weapon, not a person.

  Ty wished that she could say that it made sense, that all of it made sense, but his words defied what she had learned, and she could have sworn that there had been no lies exchanged between the two that night. Yet for some reason she wanted to trust them both, construct a bridge to link the two worlds.

  Engrossed in her internal dialogue, she stood still while Darius tidied up the workbench, put the plates away, and started to organize what looked like diagrams and more Ancient script when a bell tolled from far away.

  It was noon.

  “Anything else I need to know before I go?” she asked hesitantly as she thought about what was supposed to be next on her schedule. Far too much had happened within the last twenty-four hours that it was getting hard to remember everything. And in truth, she wanted to stay; there was so much she still needed to know, so much she still needed to understand. Darius, this fountain of knowledge locked behind a language barrier so steep she could barely meet him halfway.

  Instead of replying immediately, Darius studied her intently, and she met his eyes with a steady gaze. It felt like he was trying to tell her something through the exchange, but she was far too dense to understand, and it was only in lost words that the sentiment could be expressed.

  After what felt like a lifetime, though, he spoke. With slow and careful, unfaltering words: “One day, I tell you about tale. About story. Of hope. About you. Our lost child.”

  The bell rang again, and he turned away.