Mid-January marked the first day of semester two at the Academy. My friend group usually congregated in our spot in a particular fourth-floor hallway, where most of our lockers were clumped together. It was rare to see the majority of them at the start of my school day on Emiarhia – since everyone but me started with first period an hour earlier, at eleven a.m. – so I was a little touched whenever it did happen. Dozens of students crowded the hall. The sound of locker doors being flung open and shut rang out like the clamour of a construction site.

  Viktor and Ivahr were engaged in an animated back-and-forth when I approached.

  "I'm just saying," Ivahr insisted, "fire magic is way more practical. You can do anything with fire, mate. The Academy doesn't appreciate true genius."

  Viktor, who looked rather dapper today, replied, "Nah, earth is more versatile. It's not all just boulders and mud and leaves. You can do loads with a bit of creativity."

  "Well, I can burn through anything with my creativity," he shot back.

  I decided to intervene, lest the two come to fisticuffs over their respective disciplines. "Good afternoon, gentlemen."

  Viktor noticed me first. He flashed his teeth in a bright grin. "Brielle! Impeccable timing. Which of us has the superior element, hm? Fire or earth?"

  I pretended to ponder the question for a moment, tapping my finger to my cheek. "Mmm... Neither."

  Both boys booed and hurled a barrage of jeers at me for my impertinence.

  "What?!" Ivahr blurted. "There is no third option!"

  Viktor threw his arm over his face and wailed in dramatic fashion. "Betrayed! Abandoned by my own companion! I cannot believe such cruelty..."

  I laughed, moving past them to open my locker. "Oh, shush. Both have their uses. That debate is as old as time itself."

  He scoffed and waved me off. "Keep your excuses. I have been mortally wounded..."

  "Wounded?" came Shaye's voice as she appeared from the sea of bodies. "Whatever's got you two worked up now?"

  Viktor's demeanour changed at the sight of her. His expression smoothed out into something less sardonic and more endeared, and he started grinning like an idiot. I always got a little kick out of it, how he behaved when he was in her presence. It was adorable. In an embarrassing sort of way.

  "Nothing at all," he told her. "We were merely debating the merits of earth versus fire."

  "I said neither was better," I chimed in.

  Shaye giggled. "Ah, yes, the time-honoured tradition of this element versus that. I always take air's side. It's invisible. A truly formidable advantage."

  "Blind. All of you..." Ivahr argued.

  The hallway was clearing out as more people departed to their classes. A minute or so passed with idle banter before someone else arrived to our circle. I hadn't even noticed his presence until I turned around after gathering some textbooks into my satchel. Silent as always.

  "Ashkan, there you are!" Shaye said happily.

  He gave us all a polite nod in greeting.

  Viktor immediately made a big show of putting his hands on Ashkan's shoulders, moving around him to examine him from head to toe. He took it with remarkable patience, allowing him to circle him once. "Look at you! New year, new Ashkan!"

  He raised a brow. "Vik, you saw me last week."

  Viktor made a dismissive hand gesture. "Bah! What is it, then, hm? New tie? Shorter haircut? Oh!" His face lit up as he finally spotted it. "Tattoo! That's new!"

  Ashkan touched the large black tree on the inside of his left forearm. Its branches reached toward his elbow and its roots went down toward his wrist. "Mm, got it done yesterday. Better than scars."

  His friend winced, putting a hand on his shoulder again. "Ah... Sorry, mate. Shouldn't have said anything."

  "It's all right." He gave him a quick smile to put him at ease. "No need to tiptoe around me."

  The atmosphere in the circle became a touch sombre.

  Shaye spoke up before it could drag down further. She turned to me and held up her hands, a questioning look on her face. "Mind if I?"

  I nodded, knowing exactly what she intended. She got to work fixing my uniform as usual. I didn't have enough time after coming home from Earth classes to do much more than throw it on before leaving the house again. I usually ended up in a rumpled state before my second school session of the day even started. Shaye liked to straighten me out so I wouldn't get scolded for improper dress.

  The chimes of the bell system went off. Second period was starting soon.

  I hoisted the strap of my bag onto my shoulder. "Right. See you all at lunch?"

  Everyone murmured in confirmation, and we parted ways.

  "Oh!" Shaye caught my elbow before I could get far. "Good luck with the meeting. Everything will work out just fine, I'm sure."

  I gave her a small smile in response. "Thanks. I'll see you later."

  We split off in different directions.

  The walk to Headmaster Gunthren's office was a familiar one, though it seemed much longer this time. Every step was heavier than the last, my pulse climbing higher the closer I got to his door. I still didn't know what would await me. No matter how much I prepared mentally, I couldn't stop imagining the worst-case scenario. The onyx bracelet on my wrist felt like it was sinking me into the floor.

  When I finally stood before that mahogany door with its bronze fixture, I was paralyzed. It took a solid ten seconds to raise my arm to knock on it. My stomach flipped with every thud against the wood.

  "Enter," I heard him say.

  The knob was like ice beneath my hand. I pushed it and the door swung inward, creaking softly.

  Headmaster Gunthren looked up from the documents on his desk when I stepped inside. He gestured at me with one hand, waving me toward a chair before him. "Ah, Miss De Mavset. Thank you for coming. Please, have a seat."

  I did as instructed. I kept my eyes down as he organized the papers on his desk, placing them neatly inside a folder and filing it away. He took off his thin glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment before addressing me again.

  "First," he said, "I would like to extend my sincerest condolences to you, regarding your exposure to dark magic. As the faculty member primarily in charge of overseeing your academic career, I must say this has been quite the challenge to resolve."

  I gave him a nod of understanding.

  He sighed and leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. "As for Miss Lucera, she is currently on a temporary leave of absence until the matter has been settled. The administration is not in favour of punitive action toward her at this time – it's rare enough as it is that students become dark-bound, and in your case, the incident seems to be an unfortunate accident – but she must remain isolated until she can be proven harmless."

  I took in his words without expression. "Oh. I wasn't quite expecting that."

  He quirked an eyebrow. "Were you not?"

  "Well..." I looked away again, unsure of how to explain the thought process I had been engaged in all night. "With all due respect, Headmaster, I didn't learn forbidden spells on my own. She taught me. I don't know if she knew she'd been, or if someone forced her to, but..."

  He watched me calmly for a long moment. "I am aware, Miss De Mavset. However, at this stage, it is your word against hers. I'm not convinced I can take action without solid evidence of the truth. And...your recent experiences with forbidden magic has cast some doubt as to the reliability of your statements."

  A spark of anger flickered to life in my brain. I frowned. "I... What?"

  Gunthren spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "The librarian, Mrs. Trettle, has expressed concerns about the texts she had granted you access to. She told me you asked to see several grimoires for personal use."

  I sat up straighter, defensive now. "I just wanted more information about shadows. After Ashkan's incident with one, I felt I needed to know more. Checking out library books isn't prohibited."

  "Of course. Of course. But the point remains. You have already violated rules and procedures, albeit unknowingly...as far as I know. And with that comes the burden of proving your reliability."

  I slumped down in my chair.

  "His Majesty has notified me of your immunity to dark corruption. Which is formidable news, truly. Alas..." He took a breath, adjusting the front of his patterned waistcoat. "We must adhere to standard procedure. It must be proven that you did indeed learn dark magic from Miss Lucera. I am certain I did not instruct her to do so."

  "She's claimed innocence?"

  "She has, and with convincing detail."

  I stared up at the ceiling. Of course she did. "Headmaster, she told me it was 'ancient magic'. I didn't realize it was dark. I never would've–"

  "Ancient?" The man let out a brief chuckle of disbelief. "I am sorry to tell you, but that does not exist."

  "So I've been told..." I muttered, chewing on my lip. The frustration was becoming nearly unbearable. My emotions were a volatile combination of fear, confusion, and anger, threatening to spill out at any moment. "Is there anything I can do to prove she lied to me?"

  Gunthren rubbed at his eyes. He seemed exhausted, which was unlike him. He was usually the picture of composure, in both demeanour and appearance. The stress was clearly getting to him as well. "I am not sure. You will need evidence that she is not just your scapegoat in this whole affair, and that she has, indeed, violated her duty as an educator."

  I pondered for a few moments. The silence in the office was stifling. "...Shaye and Ashkan can give testimonies, too. I've mentioned 'ancient magic' to them a few times before it was revealed it was actually dark. And well before I rented those books."

  He mulled that over. "Hmm... Perhaps that will be of some help. However, they are your closest friends. Their word may be dismissed. In the interest of maintaining fairness, I cannot rule out the possibility that they may have lied for you. You would do well to keep that in mind."

  I felt myself sinking into the chair even farther. The hopelessness was overwhelming. "Okay, I can understand that... But why would I even want to learn dark magic in the first place? What motive do I have? It was just a mistake, honestly. She was being so cryptic; I didn't know any better."

  "Simple curiosity, perhaps. Or, considering the extensive training and considerable preferential treatment you've received over the months, you may have become aware of the perfect opportunity to rise up and become an independent force. A dangerous one."

  "No, that's... What?!" I balked at the suggestion. "I don't have any ambition of becoming some kind of, of...power-hungry villain, or whatever. You know I don't."

  Gunthren inclined his head and pushed up his glasses. "Believe me, I'm extremely averse to the idea. Unfortunately, it doesn't matter what I know or believe. It only matters what we can prove. I could pose, as well, the question of what Miss Lucera would have to gain from lying, or why she would risk so much to teach you forbidden spells."

  "Well... I..." I blinked and stuttered, not expecting this line of thought. "I can't answer for her, but maybe it wasn't intentional. That's the only explanation that makes sense to me. Someone was telling her to do it. I don't think she would willingly endanger someone's life or risk expulsion – and imprisonment, really – without good reason."

  He said nothing for a minute or so. "I'm truly not fond of either theory that either of you did it intentionally," he spoke eventually, sounding deeply pensive. "The hypothesis of an outside source is plausible, I'll admit. We've seen attempts of that in the past... However, it leaves us in a position with more questions than answers. And more danger than safety. Who could have done it, and why?"

  I opened my mouth and closed it again. Nothing. My brain was failing to provide any sort of input. I had no idea. It seemed there were more mysteries piling up than solutions being given.

  "Forgive me if I appear insensitive," he continued. "I truly am sympathetic to your circumstances, Miss De Mavset, and I hope we can get to the bottom of it all soon. But Miss Lucera has held my unwavering trust for many years. I'm reluctant to cast her aside without proof that she did this maliciously. You have my word that I will do my best to get to the truth, whatever that may be." The golden scales on the back of his hand shone faintly as he twirled a fountain pen around between his fingers. "It makes this situation no easier that I tend to regard Miss Lucera as a younger sister of sorts. We were raised in the same orphanage... She's family, to me. So, naturally, I will treat the matter as seriously as I would if my blood relatives had committed the offense."

  My eyes went wide at this confession. I'd never imagined the two were so closely acquainted. "You... She's never mentioned that."

  The Headmaster gave a soft sigh. "She prefers not to talk about it. The staff at the orphanage were not the most amiable of people. My situation was a little more tolerable. She suffered much worse abuse. Anyhow, it's not my place to disclose details of it to anyone, least of all to a student. All I ask is that you are mindful of what this means to me when we discuss this matter."

  "Oh. Yes, of course..." I sat still for a while, digesting what I'd just been told.

  On one hand, it made more sense that he would take her word over mine if they were as close as family. On the other... I'd be lying if I said that revelation didn't raise the slightest suspicion of my own. Had she known all along he would favour her? Was she trying to outwit the system? Was it a clever ruse? Had it always been about making her way up the ladder, at all costs? Or, even worse... Had he known all along and looked the other way? Could the Headmaster be covering for someone who'd put my life and the lives of my friends at risk?

  Those thoughts were too worrisome not to dispel immediately. No. That wasn't who Gunthren was. He had been kind and open, honest and compassionate throughout my months here at the Academy. He couldn't be so duplicitous, I was convinced. Then again...I'd also thought Lucera was as genuine and trustworthy as anyone, and she had proven otherwise. My head was swimming with endless possibilities, each worse than the last.

  Gunthren noticed my discomfort and his expression became apologetic. He set the pen down. "Please understand, this isn't a witch hunt. It's merely the best course of action that I can see at present, as unsatisfactory as it may be for all parties. You may think this is unfair to you, Miss De Mavset, but I'm afraid you may also be at fault here for not having enough caution regarding the dark arts."

  My jaw clenched. "None of this was intentional on my part, Headmaster. I just want you to know that."

  His face softened. "I pray that that is indeed the case."

  My shoulders were heavy with a deep, bitter frustration, though it wasn't directed toward Gunthren. There were too many conflicting forces at work. I could blame everyone involved – the teachers, myself, my parents – but at the end of it, all that would get me was a migraine and no solutions.

  "So, what's going to happen to my schedule? My tutoring sessions?"

  "I have decided to stand in for Miss Lucera myself, for the foreseeable future. Your tutoring sessions will be moved to my office from here on out. For the sake of the rest of your education, we cannot let this derail your learning entirely."

  I looked up in surprise. "Oh... Thank you. I can only imagine how busy your schedule is."

  He offered me a slight smile. "Well, I have no shortage of students who need my assistance. Though, yours is a special case, to say the least."

  My fingers went to my bracelet, tapping out a restless rhythm on it. "Yeah."

  "Will that be a problem? Do you not find my services adequate? If that is the case, I am open to discussing other alternatives, if you'd prefer."

  "No, no, I... I just worry, is all," I admitted. "About all this. What's going to happen. It feels like every step we take leads to more questions and dead ends."

  Gunthren sat back in his chair with a contemplative look. "It does appear to be the case... We are both aware that our first priority here must be your education and safety, however."

  "I understand, Headmaster."

  He took a moment to examine my face. "Miss De Mavset... May I be frank with you for a moment?"

  I nodded. "Always."

  His mouth thinned as he took a long breath. "I... I fear your tutoring has perhaps taken a detrimental turn to your health as of late. You appear more and more fatigued each day, and I have observed you displaying physical and emotional symptoms of stress. This has led me to wonder if you would rather pause your lessons altogether for the time being."

  My mouth went dry at that. The words sunk in like claws, cutting at the insides of my ribcage. I took in a short breath and swallowed. "No. I'm not giving up, if that's what you're asking. I haven't fallen behind on any assignments. I want to stay on top of things as best I can."

  He seemed surprised by my answer. "Even after...what you've endured?"

  I pressed my lips together. "Even after that. It was terrifying and I'll probably never get the memories out of my head, but I need to keep moving forward. If I let it win, then I won't be able to do anything anymore."

  The statement seemed to stun him a bit. His brow creased with a troubled frown, eyes narrowed. "Very well... It's a noble mindset. Just don't lose your way. We still need to make certain your physical and mental states remain sound, to ensure you do not lose control of your faculties, and your abilities."

  I had to concede on that. "I'll let you know if that's a problem. It won't be an issue."

  He was still looking at me a bit strangely. I was aware of it but pretended not to notice, choosing instead to study a scuff mark on my boot. I felt scrutinized in that moment, under the gaze of someone who knew almost everything. The Headmaster seemed to know every little detail about every person he met. He probably saw me for exactly what I was: a girl who was barely strong enough or good enough to face this kind of life, and was terrified of failing at it. He probably wondered why I kept pushing myself at all, and how long it would last before I cracked under the pressure. If it was worth it to him to invest time into a project like me at all.

  "In any case," I spoke up, "nobody needs to worry about me going berserk. Because I couldn't even if I wanted to." Lifting my left hand, I tugged back my sleeve to reveal the obsidian bracelet. I'd covered it so precariously with so many layers, and now it was in plain view in the Academy for the first time. I might as well have been showing a deadly wound.

  Gunthren's expression shifted, his eyes taking on an emotion that was hard to describe. A blend of surprise, pity, and dismay, with a touch of understanding. "...Ah. Yes, His Majesty included me in on the details. I see you've made a rather thorough effort to conceal it. A wise choice, as I'm sure you know. It would be difficult for some of the students and faculty to accept this sort of thing."

  My voice took on an edge. "Yes, because I'm such a danger..."

  "Miss De Mavset. I'll have none of that self-pity," the Headmaster chided, holding up a finger. "I did not insinuate that. In fact, to be brutally honest...I'm unsure if such a thing is truly necessary. I would never dare to question the decisions of our beloved King outright, but it seems to me that perhaps this was a step too far. To a point where...the cure may be worse than the alleged illness."

  I sighed in relief and let the tension roll off my body. It felt good to hear that from someone of his status. "You think so?"

  "I cannot pretend to have known the specifics of His Majesty's plan, but if it is the case that the cuff is unnecessary or the slightest bit inhumane...then I am against it."

  I allowed myself a sliver of hope at those words. "I... Thank you, Headmaster."

  "But for the time being, it remains as is. There is nothing any of us can do but continue on and make the best of this situation. And...as always, if you need my help in any matter, my office door is always open." He offered me a smile. "Now. Shall we commence today's session? We have quite a bit of work ahead of us."

  I nodded and sat up. "Absolutely."

  My tutoring proceeded almost as if the instructor hadn't changed. The only difference was Gunthren's method of teaching. Where Lucera's had been meticulously organized and to-the-point, he was more free-flowing and intuitive, occasionally moving off topic to answer a question that came to his mind. Where she had been analytical and mathematical in her approach, he was philosophical, almost spiritual. The result of this was a much more relaxing atmosphere. Not that I'd been uncomfortable before, but it definitely took the edge off.

  After lunch, I had two regular classes. Third period was Senior Magic Study II, a continuation of last term's lessons. Professor Jakklo was still as dry as ever, his lectures long-winded and filled with jargon I didn't always understand. It was a mandatory course, which meant, thankfully, all eight of my friends were there. They made the droning lectures a bit more bearable, but that didn't change the fact that it was hard to keep up. The information came so fast and the terminology was sometimes difficult to keep straight. We were going to continue broadening our spell arsenals and casting techniques. We were also going to cover all kinds of different skills, so there would be plenty of material for the rest of the school year. I scanned the required readings scrawled on the chalkboard, wrote them all down in my notes, and tuned back into Jakklo's droning.

  From beside me, Ashkan's face was half-buried in his folded arms on the long desk that stretched in front of the entire row. He appeared to have been borderline lulled to sleep by Jakklo's voice. Shaye, on my other side, was still awake, but had abandoned the act of taking notes to draw random doodles on her notebook. She gave me a brief smile when I turned to look at her, and then went back to shading in her picture.

  I leaned closer to Ash. "I don't know how you do it," I whispered, barely able to keep the amusement out of my voice. The sight of the stern and usually composed guy looking half-asleep was so funny, and so cute.

  He blinked lazily, propping his cheek against the palm of one hand. "Mm. Years of practice."

  I stifled a chuckle. I wanted to lean my head on his shoulder so badly, and that realization hit me out of the blue. What a random moment to feel that way. But here we were. "We have these things on Earth called triple shot espressos. Want me to bring you some?" I joked.

  "Yeah, we have caffeine here too. It doesn't always work," Ash murmured back. "Some things are just too boring to stay awake through, no matter what."

  I nodded in mock seriousness. "Well, maybe we'll both pass out by the end of this. Mercy killing, maybe?"

  The corner of his mouth pulled into the smallest, laziest half-grin, and the way his eyes slid in my direction was enough to send my stomach flipping over itself. "Sure. We'll do the double suicide and leave a note blaming Jakklo."

  My hand flew to my mouth. Don't laugh. Do NOT laugh. You're in class. My shoulders shook as I struggled not to make any noise. It wasn't really even that funny. It was just the classic dilemma of something becoming exponentially more hilarious when you aren't allowed to laugh. I took a long, deep breath, and managed to compose myself. "Okay, now all I can think about is the obituary."

  A half-choke, half-snort escaped him before he added, "The eulogy."

  I snickered quietly. "Imagine Jakklo at our funerals."

  "He'd try to grade the visitations."

  "Professoring at the grieving."

  We both lost it, curling in on ourselves and dissolving into silent, shaking laughter. I feigned punches at Ash's shoulder, as if that might relieve some of my hysterics. My sides ached. Ashkan was doing a much better job of remaining calm, while I was on the verge of exploding at any second. I got a strange few looks from some other students around us, who clearly had no idea what we found so funny, but I didn't care. The prospect of an epic scolding from Jakklo for acting up in class didn't seem as dire when we were imagining him throwing a fit over how his dead student's low test score couldn't possibly have been his fault.

  Unaware of what was unfolding amongst his students, our professor continued lecturing until the bell rang and dismissed us.

  Fourth period wasn't as humorous. It was the class I'd used as an excuse to get Mrs. Trettle to hand over the dark magic books – Ethics & Mechanisms of Forbidden Magic. The classroom was small and cozy, containing the smallest number of students of any class I'd ever been in. Including Ashkan, Shaye, and me, there were about twenty students total. Maybe the class wasn't super popular, or maybe most were hesitant to seek it out. Evil subjects tended to attract negative attention, to be fair. Although it was interesting to note, once again, the Academy's common refusal to label dark magic as just that. It was simply 'forbidden', something to be approached with caution and something to never, ever partake in. Not that it was legal to do so anyway.

  Professor Fyke was a portly, rather grey man with white hair combed back neatly. He introduced himself as someone without an ounce of magic in his body. Which I found surprising and amazing. The Academy did support both non-magic and magic kind, but it was unheard of to have a non-mag in a teaching position. He was clearly quite knowledgeable on the subject, and he had a sort of blunt, no-nonsense air about him that I appreciated. We wouldn't be learning forbidden magic, he explained, but how to defend against it, counteract it, recognize its various manifestations, and what appropriate actions to take in case it was suspected. And as the title of the course suggested, there was also an emphasis on ethics and morals surrounding the topic.

  "Forbidden arts are rooted in darkness, in hatred, in ugliness, in perversion of the basic code of our planet," Professor Fyke intoned. We sat a mere couple of feet from the front row in this particular classroom, so we had a good view of all the minute expressions on our instructor's face. "It would make sense, then, that any mage who touches those powers would lose themselves to that darkness as well. Would not so polluted and corrupt a body produce such a form of magic?"

  At the mention of darkness, my fingertips went to the fabric-covered bracelet on my wrist. Ashkan's gaze found it as well, and something shifted in his expression.

  "Practitioners are found more often than not to have been twisted souls in their own right, those lacking in empathy or conscience. They become vessels of festering rot. And an infected heart calls forth malicious powers." Fyke paced as he talked. "In most cases, they cannot help what they have become. No, this is not a lesson on our definitions of evil. Sometimes, there is no distinction to be made between good and evil, because they have mingled into the same being. A person tormented and manipulated by such forces might be as much a victim as those they attack. And that does not mean their actions are acceptable. But this is not a condemnation of anyone, or a place to speak poorly of another. We are only learning of these things here to know better how to protect against them."

  The class was strangely attentive to him. No eyes wandered; no one seemed to have anything better to do than listen. It was as if everyone here could feel the gravity of this topic, even if we weren't sure of all the details. Every word Fyke said carried a weight of its own. I, for one, wasn't sure if I was just in shock or if there was something almost uncanny about him. This wasn't some whimsical trivia class where it wasn't a big deal if you checked out. This was serious, and hearing about it was sobering at the least, intimidating at the worst.

  "So, how do we define a forbidden spell? Who makes that call?" a student piped up from somewhere in the middle.

  "Official government decree," Fyke answered. "Laws differ slightly from realm to realm, but they are virtually identical. They must be to ensure both order and quality of life for all those within, of course."

  Another hand went up. "Professor, we're going to learn to counter forbidden magic, but most of us don't encounter it on a daily basis, right? Why would we even need to know how?"

  "Ah, a natural question." He pointed to the student. "The universe is, as with anything, an unpredictable place. A forbidden spell might be cast on one's doorstep someday. We should not needlessly provoke their use, but it would be foolish to walk blindly through a place without knowing what creatures and disasters one might encounter, and what weapons and defenses one might use to counter them."

  "But why would anyone use forbidden magic if the stakes are so high? Is there anything to gain that's worth a death sentence?" The third question came from someone in the last row.

  Fyke turned to address the speaker. "There are all kinds of worth in the world. Somewhere, someone always finds value in the worst methods. If the ends justify the means, then anything becomes an acceptable sacrifice. Unfortunately, it is difficult to show logic to someone like that. Sometimes, it is not entirely an unreasonable, impossible choice to make, if no option can be considered above the other. Simply the darkest of imperfect choices."

  Darkest of imperfect choices. A chill ran down my spine. Oh, great, now those words are going to haunt my sleep.

  "Then...where does it come from?" a small, female voice interjected hesitantly. "If there is no element or god behind it, then where...?"

  "Nobody can say. There are no complete explanations, no satisfactory solutions. Forbidden magic appears to defy the logic of our known existence. It has no god, no author or engineer, no concrete definition. It has defied many attempted studies, research, and analysis. It just...is. The general consensus is that it arises from the deepest depths of the worst darkness within our souls. A force born from hatred, malice, greed, envy, fear... Whatever causes us to harm. When one chooses to live in such a way, the magic is compelled to answer, like a mother hushing her infant's wail. Once that rot has taken hold, it festers until it has poisoned the entire heart. When it is no longer possible to control the impious parts of ourselves, and we are driven to ruin, that energy emerges. Magic is simply energy, after all, and by the same principle, so are forbidden arts."

  I tried to focus on the lecture, but I only ended up spacing out for long portions of it. Sitting in that class felt like being under a blinding, sweltering spotlight. I was trying my hardest not to equate myself to forbidden magic, to let the words 'rot' and 'worst darkness' sink their hooks into my skin and rip my chest open, to show off all my secrets and insecurities for the entire room to see. And to condemn me for it. I knew it was in my head; it was only an analogy. I wasn't literally rotten to my core, I reminded myself over and over, until the words started to lose meaning. I was not some villain. But the shackle on my wrist said otherwise.

  I took all those 'dark' tomes and books I'd rented back to the library after class. As I placed them in the return bin as discreetly as I could, Mrs. Trettle's eyes never strayed from mine. There was something unspoken in that silent stare. Judgement? Disappointment? It felt like both. Or maybe that was all in my head too. She seemed to be in a bit of a hurry and didn't engage me in conversation, and that was fine with me. I could feel her disapproval from across the counter anyway.

  Yet, as those texts left my hands, something in my chest sank a little. Even within the span of days, I'd gotten accustomed to having those anchors. A twisted sort of safety blanket. They didn't have all the answers, but they felt like something solid to hold on to. And the various stories of Prince Lanzeroth's plights felt comforting, somehow. I couldn't help drawing parallels between his situation and mine. At least, what people had written about him. What if the same type of people who spread those tales would denounce me for the same things they'd deemed sacrilegious and vile in him? What if history repeated itself? Would my name become a whisper in the dark, an embodiment of terror and villainy, or just a forgotten tragedy?

  The week proceeded fairly normally. I got through the next day of class and continued tutoring sessions with Headmaster Gunthren. He'd been a great help so far, and I could see myself coming to value him as a teacher as time went on. And despite all my fears about everyone in the realm despising me for being the supposed spawn of evil, he treated me with nothing but respect and kindness.

  I had Senior Magic Study II again on Tuesday, then Magical Theory with Professor Neyllpa. The latter of which I shared with most of my friends. The material itself was theoretical; it consisted of the origins, evolution, development, and possible futures of magic. According to the professor, the course often assisted students with tapping into more of their potential. Neyllpa was a little more eccentric than the others I'd had so far. She had a curious fondness for this heavy brooch in the shape of a ruby blossom on her shawl, and didn't waste any time trying to act 'mature' or 'dignified' to make us feel like children. Her hair was short, wild, and strikingly red, and her right arm was laced with all sorts of tattoos. The woman was funny and bold, and knew how to keep class interesting.

  On Thursday afternoon, I ate a light lunch with the usual group: Ashkan, Shaye, Lilwen, Miseris, Viktor, Ivahr, and Cassius. Cassius had a big smile on his face when he sat down, like he was holding onto some great news, and everyone around the table could see it. He seemed like he could barely keep it in anymore.

  "Cassius," Viktor prompted from across from me. "Spit it out, mate. What are you dying to say?"

  "Yes, you look about to burst," Shaye noted with an amused smile.

  Cassius beamed and put both hands flat on the table. "Guess who scored himself a date?" He let the suspense hang for a few moments, as if expecting everyone to start guessing.

  Viktor shrugged. "Who?"

  Ivahr snorted into his flask of juice.

  Cassius rolled his eyes, still beaming. "Me!" He leaned forward eagerly. "I've got myself a date."

  "Ooh. Give us the whole story," I encouraged.

  "Who's the lucky girl?" Miseris added.

  "Uh..." He suddenly looked bashful. "No, not a girl this time. His name is Roland. You'll like him. I mean, he's the most amazing person, and he's so good-looking. You guys should see him. He's gorgeous. I'm still pinching myself."

  Shaye and Lilwen exchanged glances that said, 'Aw, how adorable' without actually saying anything.

  Miseris snapped her fingers. "Oh! I know him! I have a couple of classes with him. The really tall one with the pinkish hair and the piercings, right?"

  "That's the one." Cassius nodded.

  "Good pick," she replied, smiling. "I haven't had many conversations with him, but he seems nice."

  "So, how'd it happen? The story. Details!" Shaye said.

  Cassius let out an excited breath. "Well, we've had a few classes together, but I always chickened out. I couldn't work up the nerve to even talk to him until last semester. And when he smiled at me the other day, it felt like my brain was going to fall out my ears."

  Lilwen chuckled.

  "And then I figured, this is it. I've been too much of a coward to go talk to him before, and that's why I haven't got anywhere," he went on. "So I took the initiative this time."

  "What did you do?" I questioned.

  "I went up to him after class. And he looked surprised to see me at first. Kind of surprised in a good way, so I thought that was a good sign." He continued to gesture excitedly. "So I went, 'Hi! My name's Cassius; we have a couple of classes together?' And he smiled, and said he'd noticed. So we started talking, and I just blurted out, 'Hey, if you ever want to study sometime or something, I'd be interested in getting together.'"

  "Aww," Shaye cooed.

  "It's a study date...?" Ivahr interjected. "How old are you? Thirteen?"

  Ashkan flicked his hand to jab a spoon into his arm. He yelped in response.

  Cassius glared at Ivahr for a second, then shrugged it off and turned back to me. "He said yes! We're meeting up this weekend, at the little park next to the lake. Can you believe it?" He looked giddy. "...Anyway, uh. That's all."

  I smiled warmly at him. "I'm happy for you. He sounds great."

  Shaye looked over at me. "See, Brielle? It's not that hard to–"

  "Do not start with me," I warned her. "Don't even say it."

  She grinned. I knew exactly what she'd been about to say. That it wasn't that hard to ask someone out, as Cassius had just proved, and that I needed pull myself up by my bootstraps and ask Luke out already. It wasn't that simple, but she knew that. She was just being optimistic as usual. And while it was true I needed to make a decision soon, one way or another, the thought of that was just...too much, at the moment. Too much stress. I needed a clear head if I was going to confront that, so it would have to wait.

  "Oh, Brielle, I was hoping to ask you something," Lilwen piped up.

  I took a bite of my food before answering. "Am I going to like this line of questioning?"

  Her face turned a bit dejected. "Well, um... I did not intend to...put you on the spot or anything."

  A quiet laugh escaped me. Most jokes and sarcasm tended to go right over her head. "Sorry. Just kidding. What's up?"

  "You once said you have a friend proficient in inventing and technological development. I was wondering, is he still in contact?" she asked, tilting her head.

  "You mean Elliott? Yeah. Why, do you need him for something?"

  She nodded eagerly. "I require some repairs on something I have discovered recently."

  Viktor was paying rapt attention now. "What's this I hear? You found a trinket?"

  "Oh, yes, quite possibly. I believe it to be a talisman or amulet of some sort." She shifted and leaned over to rummage around in her bag for a moment, then produced a small object about the size of a strawberry and offered it to him. "It is a bit battered, but it is rather fascinating."

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  "Blimey!" Viktor took it from her, gently examining it with a curious gleam in his eye.

  The object looked much like a pendant, but was missing its chain. A slightly iridescent, pear-shaped, periwinkle gemstone with flecks of silver sat in an ornate cage of silver wire, all woven together into an intricate design. The back vaguely resembled that of a wristwatch or other type of small device, with a metal plate and two small holes. Rust, cracks and dents marred the pendant's otherwise beautiful surface.

  Viktor turned the amulet over in his hands as he studied it. "It's definitely old," he murmured. "Lilwen, how'd you find this thing?"

  "I was out for a swim yesterday in Lake Gaulheim, beside the southern border," she answered.

  Ashkan raised an eyebrow. "In this climate?"

  "It was not terribly cold," she responded, blinking. "I simply must wear my heated wetsuit. But the water was rather nice. Very calm. Anyway, I was exploring a small underwater cavern. The rocks there were very peculiar. They seemed to be covered with these fine, vein-like grooves that looked like...writing. Like an ancient language, perhaps. It was most unusual. I tried to read some of it, but I did not recognize the runes. Then I happened to brush my fingers against the wall, and one of the veins broke away. This fell out."

  Viktor whistled quietly. "So it was a hidden compartment or something."

  "Quite." She nodded.

  "I can take it to Elliott and see if he can figure it out," I offered. "If it needs fixing, maybe he can do that, too. But I can't guarantee he'll be able to tell you much about where it's from, or how to activate it or whatever it is. If it even is anything at all."

  Lilwen clasped her hands together. "That would be perfect! Thank you. I will reimburse you for any repair costs."

  Miseris moved closer to the talisman. "Do you think it might be valuable? Like, could be worth something on the market?"

  "Hey, that's not a bad idea," Ivahr mused, eyes lighting up. "Lemme see that." He reached across the table and snatched it from Viktor's hand.

  "Uh, that seems to be very delicate," Cassius remarked.

  Lilwen looked torn between indignation and anxiety. "Careful...!"

  Miseris' arm darted out to yank the amulet away from him. "Knock it off, you dolt, you're going to break it!"

  "It's already broken!" he protested, standing to evade her grasp.

  "Oh, no, here we go..." Shaye put her hands over her eyes.

  Ivahr climbed up onto the bench he'd been sitting on. "Just let me hold it for a minute!"

  "It's not yours!"

  "That doesn't mean I can't hold it!"

  Miseris got to her feet and started reaching for it. "Don't play keep-away, you brat, or you're gonna lose a hand."

  "Is that a threat?"

  "No, it's a promise!"

  He danced away, trying to hold the trinket out of her reach, which was admittedly quite easy considering she was much shorter in height. The whole thing seemed to be more or less just for show, however, due to his teasing nature and her unwillingness to seriously harm him, but they still acted pretty irritated.

  Lilwen piped up, looking flustered. "P-Please be careful, I don't want it damaged even more–"

  The two of them now moved their bickering over to the grass beside the table as one chased after the other. Their voices blended together with Cassius', who had moved in to attempt to be some kind of mediator between them. It was a comical sight. Miseris suddenly shot her hand out, and with a quick spell, the amulet fell out of Ivahr's grip into her waiting palm.

  He stumbled, then looked back at her in disbelief. "Hey!"

  Miseris laughed triumphantly. She held the talisman up by the wire cage, dangling it in the air for a second.

  Ivahr's hands went to his hips and he took on the stance of an affronted toddler. "All right, fine." He huffed and repeated the same spell to make the object drop from Miseris' grasp. It flew right out of her hands and back into his. Then, he marched right over to Lilwen, took her by the wrist, and deposited it into her palm before Miseris could catch up with him. "There."

  Lilwen blinked, looking perplexed as she closed her fingers around it. A faint pink tinge developed on her face. "Um. Thank you."

  "Now stop acting like I'm a menace," he demanded.

  Miseris rolled her eyes. "Then stop being a menace. Honestly..."

  "If I didn't know you both, I'd think you were the same person," Shaye remarked, watching the entire scene with a grin.

  Ashkan turned his entire focus to the talisman. "May I see that for a second?" Lilwen nodded, holding it out. He studied it carefully. "Hm."

  Viktor stood to peer over his shoulder. "Whaddya think?"

  "Well...it definitely isn't anything I've ever seen," he replied, a note of fascination in his voice. "The metal's... Hm, I'm not sure. Definitely not anything common. Hard to say without a microscope and some tools."

  "And the stone?"

  Ashkan shrugged. "No clue."

  Lilwen nodded thoughtfully. "That is quite all right. I only wished to determine if it were at all functional. Perhaps Elliott will have some more luck with it. Brielle, may I entrust you to take it to him?"

  "Sure," I replied. "No problem. I'll take it after training."

  "Excellent!" she chirped. "I would greatly appreciate it." She handed me the amulet and I pocketed it.

  The bell sounded a moment later, and the chatter around us quieted as the students began to file into the buildings to attend their afternoon classes. I slung my satchel over my shoulder before heading to Light Magic Praxis. The classroom was located in the east wing on the fourth floor, inside a little nook in a hallway on the left side. You had to approach it from the stairwell up the hall or you'd never even know it was there.

  Upon arriving in that spacious, circular room with high ceilings, I found my eyes drawn immediately to the giant window on the front wall. It overlooked a spectacular view of the mountains in the far distance. Rays of sunlight filtered down in through the glass, glimmering as they hit the dust floating in the air. The window's edges were covered with thin, brown curtains with a floral pattern. There were also several hanging candle-lamps made of milky glass. A few of the tables at the front held some odd magical apparatuses, including an orrery with crystals at the centre, an astrolabe, a celestial globe, and other such things.

  My quiet observations were promptly interrupted by a relatively short woman with coal-black hair swept up in a high knot with a bejeweled stick. Pronged horns wrapped in silver emerged from either side of her forehead, and her pale eyes glittered with keen interest and no small amount of intensity.

  "Miss De Mavset. Glad to see you here bright and early today," she remarked. "I must admit, once I received my student list this term, I was looking forward to teaching you. It will be a pleasure to finally see your full potential realized. I believe you and I can have much to learn from one another."

  "Uh, thank you, ma'am. It's nice to meet you as well, Professor...?" I trailed off.

  She inclined her head, still looking very pleased with the situation. "Oh, forgive me. Professor Archir-Ku. Welcome to Light Magic Praxis. We'll be starting class soon."

  With a curt nod, she went over to speak with two other students who'd arrived after me. I moved toward one of the tables near the back of the room, unclipping my satchel and pulling out a notebook, quill, and inkwell. Then, I began to tap my fingers on the table as I waited, a little impatient for the lesson to begin. None of my friends majored in light magic, which meant I was all alone. They all had their own praxis courses; there was one for each element, as well as basic healing courses for non-light users.

  I suppose Lilwen, Shaye, and Cassius were in the same boat I was, being the sole ice, air, and water mages in the group, respectively. Ashkan and Viktor majored in earth, and Miseris and Ivahr in fire (to nobody's surprise). I couldn't imagine what it'd be like to teach Fire Magic Praxis. There was definitely some correlative patterns between one's personality and elemental major of choice, even though everyone's optimal alignment was determined at birth, and straying from that inclination was exceedingly rare. If Miseris was a good representation of what the average student in that field was like, that would be quite the job.

  "Is this seat taken?"

  A quiet voice to my left cut off my musings. I looked up and felt my stomach leap into my chest at the sight of the girl standing before me. I hoped it didn't show on my face. Ofelia looked so pretty, like always, with her dark lashes and midnight blue bob. I almost didn't recognize her voice at first. She was sickly-sweet, squeaky-clean, and had a tendency to say the oddest of things. You kind of just had to go along with whatever came out of her mouth. I hadn't seen her much since she'd drugged Ashkan with a love potion and was promptly suspended.

  "Hey!" I responded. "It's been a while."

  She offered a slight smile as she set her books down and pulled out a chair. "It has. It's been a bit lonely without anyone to talk to," she commented, her tone mild.

  "...Oh. Sorry," I offered.

  Her hands fell onto her lap as she turned toward me. "How are you doing?"

  "Pretty well, I guess," I said. "What about you? I didn't know you majored in light. I assumed you were studying earth, since you wanted that internship at the Horticulturalists' Guild."

  Ofelia shook her head. "The application period ended, and I wasn't selected. There's always next year. But I really only followed earth studies because Ashkan is. I love flowers and plants and nature and all that. But the other stuff is pretty boring. So now I'm studying light magic."

  "Oh," I repeated, my eyebrows shooting up. Of course she'd changed her major for Ashkan. "So... What's your blood magic, then?"

  "It's light. I'm hoping it will be much easier. I think the spell-casting might be simpler."

  "Huh," I muttered, considering the situation. I didn't want to say I didn't like Ofelia, but she wasn't exactly my favourite person. Considering what she'd done, I couldn't say I had a high opinion of her at this point. So it was a little irksome to share the same elemental aptitude. It kind of felt like when someone you don't get along with is in the same club as you, or has the same hobby or interest. I tried not to think too much on that, however. She couldn't choose her genetics. And we weren't children.

  She looked like she wanted to say more, but at that moment, Professor Archir-Ku addressed the class.

  "Welcome to Light Magic Praxis," she called, sweeping her arms outward. "It will be my pleasure to educate you this term. You may call me Professor Archir-Ku. The goal of this course is to practice wielding light magic in an array of ways, including offensive, defensive, restorative, and otherwise. As many of you are no doubt already aware, the practice of light magic requires a calm, clear mind and a disciplined spirit, with the focus to manipulate one's energy as one needs."

  I opened up my notebook and began to jot down notes as she spoke. This class was likely to bring my average up a fair bit. It wasn't that my grades were awful or anything – I did have a decent record. But I could always recognize an easier course when I saw one.

  The professor continued, "Evidently, magic is not instantaneous. There are rules that must be followed to cast a successful spell. For example, you typically cannot simply repair something without knowing what you're fixing, how to fix it, and how it broke. Those are the basic ideas behind all spell-casting: understanding what you want, knowing the correct thoughts and gestures to manipulate your magic, and focusing on the desired end result. But, you also must have the necessary amount of magic in your reserves to do what you need. To heal a papercut, a mere thought and a speck of power are enough. But if you are trying to heal a stab wound, for example, more magic is needed. And even then, you need to have a strong enough healing affinity and magic capacity in your system to be able to pull that off. Some of you may have already noticed that your affinities can differ."

  She continued the lesson in that vein for a while, speaking in an easy, informative way, occasionally stopping to allow her words to sink in, before she would ask the students questions and begin her lecture anew. Ofelia seemed to be attentive enough, though I suspected she'd be zoning out sooner or later. As it turned out, it was sooner. The girl turned toward me after a minute, looking thoughtful.

  "Do you think the professors are supposed to be like gods?"

  I blinked. "...I'm not sure."

  "I think so. They're so powerful," she murmured. "Like gods."

  "...I guess."

  Her eyes slid sideways, skimming over my notes. "You're pretty neat."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Um... Thank you?"

  "I was never all that good in school, but you seem so clever."

  "I... Thanks." I glanced back at Professor Archir-Ku, feeling like we needed to focus on the lesson. But Ofelia looked like she had more on her mind.

  "You know, I really want to be able to control the weather," she went on. "Do you know anyone who can?"

  "...No," I replied, baffled.

  She sighed, eyes going a bit distant. "That'd be so lovely."

  I shook my head to myself, looking back down at my paper as I finished a note. This was going to be a long hour.

  "Now, I require...a volunteer. For a demonstration," the professor announced. "Hm? Anyone?"

  She scanned the crowd, letting the silence weigh down. No one volunteered. A few people shifted uncomfortably. Nobody wanted to be the centre of attention. Understandable, really. It was only the first day. I kept my eyes glued to my notes as if they were the most fascinating thing I'd ever seen.

  Professor Archir-Ku began to smile after a minute. "In that case, I'll be happy to select one of you. May I have...Miss De Mavset, please?"

  Fuck. Here we go.

  Saying nothing, I gathered my courage and scooted my chair back. With my expression as smooth as possible, I strode up to the front of the room. I suspected she was just looking to make me a figurehead for the class. Murmurs and a few giggles rose up around me in hushed tones.

  "She looks like she's going to the gallows."

  "...Thought she'd be dead by now."

  "Ooh, the Luminary. What a bootlicker..."

  "Is this even fair?"

  The whispers followed me like a flock of pesky little birds. It made my face grow slightly warm and my mouth twist to the side. But I tried not to show my annoyance, and simply faced the professor when I arrived at the front, shoulders squared and hands in my pockets.

  "Thank you," Professor Archir-Ku stated. "Please, face the students, Miss De Mavset, so we can all see your work."

  I did so without argument.

  The professor retrieved something from her desk – a familiar fruit that looked like a cross between a plum and an orange, but bright pink – and held it up in the air for the class to see. She went on, "Can you tell me what this is?"

  "An abaet, Professor," I replied. Some quiet laughter ensued from the audience.

  "Indeed. Have you ever practiced healing on plants?"

  I nodded. "Not in a while, but I have."

  She seemed pleased. "Yes, I'm aware this would be quite simple for you. But stay with me, please." She looked back out at the rest of the class. "Healing magic, as you all should know by now, is a very useful skill to possess, and a large component of light magic. The reason light magic can be considered 'magical science' rather than 'magical arts' is because its applications can be quite practical with regards to the body. If one possesses an affinity for light and a strong magical reservoir, there is very little one cannot heal." She picked up a small paring knife and sliced a line into the flesh of the fruit. Then she handed it to me, still facing the students. "Now, Miss De Mavset. Show the class how we can restore a wound, such as a cut, on a plant."

  I glanced down at the fruit for a moment before nodding, keeping my cool. This was, indeed, child's play. My words faded out as my thoughts went elsewhere. I closed my eyes. I began to picture the flesh stitching together, the wound healing as the cut sealed and the cells regenerated. It took all of three seconds. When I opened my eyes, there wasn't a mark left on the surface of its skin.

  "Is it healed?" she prompted.

  I nodded, then tossed the abaet over to her.

  The professor inspected it closely. "Good, very good."

  It was easy to tell the other students weren't very impressed. That kind of spell was no doubt a cakewalk to everyone in here, at this level. A few were whispering again. I despised being in the spotlight. It made me uncomfortable, as I always felt I was being put on a pedestal for people to look at or scrutinize or pick apart. And there was nothing I wanted to do less.

  Professor Archir-Ku continued, "You all saw that it only took Miss De Mavset a mere few seconds to do. Now, if anyone needs an explanation as to the particulars of how the magic works, I'd be happy to provide. But that was the very least we can do. Let us proceed." She set the fruit aside, took a sheet of parchment from a stack on her desk, then quickly swiped the edge across her fingertip. A tiny bead of blood formed on the wound. She held it up for everyone to see. "Now. This is what it looks like to repair a cut on a human."

  My eyes widened a little. I wasn't expecting a realistic demonstration.

  She faced me again and gave a slight incline of her head. "If you'd please?"

  "Uh, sure." Carefully, I took her bleeding finger into my hands, closed my eyes, and visualized the flesh stitching back together, just like before. In about ten seconds, the cut was sealed and the skin looked brand-new, not even a hint of redness left. I opened my eyes, nodded once more, and released her finger.

  The professor looked rather satisfied with that outcome. "Excellent. See the difference? A little more time and focus were required. However, I've no doubt that Miss De Mavset is only the least bit tired from this, if at all. Am I correct?"

  I hesitated for a second. Then I answered, "Yes, Professor. It's...pretty simple."

  "Simple indeed," she replied with an amused look. "Lastly, would you be willing to assist me once more?"

  "Sure." I braced myself mentally.

  Professor Archir-Ku turned back around. "Students, please keep in mind that this is a controlled environment. Do not attempt this at home."

  With that, she drew her arm back and slashed a deep, gaping gash across her wrist with the paring knife. A collective gasp ran through the room. The professor grimaced but didn't waver, merely holding up her arm as the blood began to pour out and drip onto the floor. I nearly flinched. What the hell?! Everyone was now tense. Some had stood from their chairs. Some had their hands over their mouths in horror. A few looked nauseous.

  "Whoa, whoa...!" I exclaimed.

  The professor continued to address the class, though her voice had a little strain to it. "I understand the demonstration may seem rather graphic, but please try to keep your reactions in check."

  Acting on urgent instinct, I stepped forward and grabbed her arm with both hands, one on each side of the wound. I closed my eyes. The cut had sliced the radial artery, and her pulse was now throbbing beneath my fingertips, a weak stream of blood dribbling out every time her heart thrummed.

  My thoughts flew in a hundred different directions, a frantic search through the knowledge in my mind for the correct information, a flurry of images as I pictured the wound healing itself, as I envisioned the skin regenerating and the vessel sewing itself back together. Frantic whispers still hovered around the room. I was only half-aware of it all. My face was a mask of focus. My hands tingled and glowed as the spell did its work.

  I didn't know how much time had passed before I felt it was over, but it was less time than I'd expected. When I opened my eyes, my hands dropped from her wrist and I stepped back, ever so slightly breathless. The wound had sealed itself entirely, without even a trace of blood or a scar left to show it had ever been there.

  There were a few moments of stunned silence.

  Professor Archir-Ku gave a pleased hum, studying her wrist. "Just over forty seconds. I'm impressed."

  With a wave of her hand, the blood on the floor and on my own hands vanished. Then, she looked up and surveyed the room.

  "Do not be alarmed. It is imperative to remain calm and in control of your thoughts in all things, particularly with the practice of light magic. While we cannot control every emotion or reaction, it is crucial to try. It's no secret that the circumstances surrounding healing are often very stressful. However, if you learn to separate the urgency from the anxiety, you will find your results to be faster. Although Miss De Mavset here was surely quite worried about my health, you may have noticed that she wasn't rattled entirely. There was still a sense of control. She snapped into action rather than froze in panic. She knew what she was doing and did it as quickly and as best she could. Reacting on instinct. That is the critical element to healing magic. That reflex, that is the goal."

  She held up her now-healed arm, giving it another cursory glance before returning her gaze to class.

  "Confidence is the key. You must, must know your craft well enough to be certain it will work. You are the master of the spell. Not the other way around. Never the other way around." Her eyes slid to me, and she smiled, raising her chin slightly. "Thank you kindly for your cooperation. You're excused."

  "No...problem," I answered. Then I hurried back to my desk without looking anyone in the eye, my heart still beating faster than I wanted to admit.

  When I sat, Ofelia leaned closer. "Do you think you could teach me to do that?"

  "It...wasn't difficult," I said. "I'm sure you already could."

  She seemed excited about that idea, eyes shining with the promise of being able to wield magic at that level. But she said no more.

  The rest of the class passed without much event, but the whispers still echoed in my ears as we all filed out of the room at the end of the period. The students were still buzzing about how Professor Archir-Ku had used herself for the demonstration, and what an incredibly bad idea it was, and what if it had been an actual life or death situation? What if I hadn't been able to help her? What if I hadn't known what I was doing? And the looks they'd given me were as if it was all my fault.

  My nerves were a little frayed when I headed out for my last class. Which was not an ideal state to enter the Duelling classroom in. But there was no helping that now.

  Shaye, Ashkan, Miseris, Viktor, and Ivahr were there to greet me when I arrived. It was quite a large room, with an impressively high ceiling and stone columns that had been carved into the shapes of writhing serpents, with elaborate scrollwork winding around their spines, their jaws open to bare their teeth. There were tall, thin windows on all the walls, allowing the afternoon sun to pour into the space. A wooden podium was at one side of the room. Runner carpets had been laid out on the stone floor, which looked like it had seen more than a few duels itself. The walls were also riddled with scorch marks and the occasional dent. I found that a tad worrisome.

  "Hey," Ashkan greeted when he noticed me.

  "Hey," I echoed.

  The other four nodded or smiled, all with varying degrees of cheer. I gave a friendly nod in return.

  "Ready for a duel, Brielle?" Viktor asked with a wink. "Hope you can hold your own, because I've been practicing my craft."

  I couldn't help but smile a little. "Sure, I'd like to see that."

  He put a hand to his heart with a slight grimace, feigning offense. "Ooh, such doubt!"

  Ashkan chimed in with an easy, teasing smirk. "No one wants to be pitted against you in a duel. But only because they don't want to see you cry."

  "Hey! What does that mean?!" Viktor exclaimed, puffing out his chest. "I will have you know I am a highly accomplished duelist, and–"

  "Everyone, please gather round, find your places," called a new, male voice.

  All conversation stopped immediately.

  A tall, broad-shouldered man had appeared in front of the podium. His bronze hair was shorn short, his skin a light grey, and he had an intense, intelligent gleam in his hazel eyes, which I immediately counted three of. I was so used to the oddity of seeing more than two on Reyshore and Cassius that the feature didn't even give me pause. He looked around forty, with a long scar along his chin.

  "Thank you all for joining me. My name is Professor Cenine," he greeted as we formed a semi-circle in front of the podium. "This is senior-level Duelling. We are going to be working hard this semester. As such, I don't tolerate disruptive behaviour or inattention of any kind. If I ever catch you being disrespectful in my classroom, I'll have you run laps around the grounds until you vomit." His eyes scanned our faces for a moment, before continuing, "And if any of you think this is a joke, feel free to challenge me, if you want to make a fool of yourself."

  No one moved an inch.

  "You may have noticed the room is rather different than the others," he remarked, glancing around at the stone. "It is designed for our practice, as well as for your protection. This will be the room we do all our sparring and our tests. However, all spells used in this course must be non-harmful, and you are expected to follow that rule strictly. Failure to do so will result in you being thrown out of this room, and out of this class, and quite possibly out of the Academy. Have I made myself clear?"

  A unanimous chorus of 'yes, Professor's sounded through the air.

  He nodded once. "Great. We'll start with an introduction and overview, as you can imagine. For some of you, it may be redundant. But I always prefer to start a new term with a clean slate, a new foundation."

  For the next twenty minutes or so, he went over what we would be covering. Duelling was pretty much exactly what it sounded like. There were various aspects we'd work on: casting techniques, duel etiquette, stances, defense and offense, spells, the art of battle and strategic planning, and of course, we'd practice duels with each other. It made me wonder if Cenine would get along with Kadia.

  Once he finished, he folded his muscular arms. "You've all heard enough for now. We're going to start off with something fun. Hmm..." His eyes darted from student to student before stopping on Viktor. "You. With the green hair. You look like a young man of adventure. I'd like to see what you're made of."

  Viktor stiffened with obvious surprise and pleasure, a proud look crossing his face. "Sure thing."

  "Let's see. And..." Professor Cenine scanned the class again and pointed. "You."

  Everyone turned to look. My stomach sank when I realized who he meant.

  Shaye leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Oh, lovely. Of course Claude would enjoy this class. He lives for violence."

  I gritted my teeth a little, keeping my expression blank. At least this was in a classroom this time, not in an alleyway.

  Claude nodded to the professor as he moved up front. His ice-blue eyes landed on Viktor and they glinted with something akin to levity. His voice was calm, smooth. "This ought to be interesting."

  From where Viktor stood a few feet away from him, he looked at our group as if we were a camera crew on a reality TV show, with an 'Are you seeing this bullshit?' kind of expression on his face. Then, he shrugged and replied, "Agreed."

  Professor Cenine gave the two of them a stern look. "All right. Here are the rules. Stand a good fifteen paces from each other and then face your opponent square on. The object is to be the first one to knock the other out of the duel. This is not to the death, mind you. No need to be too aggressive. No bodily harm. No physical contact of any kind. No levitation. No assistance from the crowd. Feel free to tap out at any time. Questions?"

  Claude's mouth curled upward as if he were resisting the urge to laugh.

  Viktor tilted his head and held a finger to his chin as if he were thinking about it, then answered with a confident smile, "No, I think we're all set."

  "Very well. Stand there. The rest of you, back away," the professor ordered.

  The others and I obediently stepped away as Cenine moved to stand off to one side, observing with his arms crossed. Viktor and Claude went to stand where he had directed.

  "Begin!" Cenine barked.

  Immediately, Claude conjured an orb of swirling, clear water in his palm, holding it there for a second, before chucking it directly at Viktor's face. It seemed to explode on impact with a crash. I winced. Viktor staggered backward a few steps and put his hands over his eyes. His hair was drenched. He wore a stunned expression. The entire class burst into laughter. I didn't want to enjoy seeing Viktor like this, but it was hard not to chuckle a bit.

  But as quickly as Claude had hit him with that spell, Viktor had composed himself again. He brushed his hair away from his forehead with his forearm and held his hands out. "Oh, it is on."

  Curling vines erupted from the ground at Claude's feet and lashed at his legs. But he leaped out of the way just in time. He countered by aiming another ball of water at Viktor's face. He responded by throwing up his hands with a quick cry, conjuring a barrier. The ball of water exploded on contact and splattered harmlessly against it. The rest of the class continued to cheer and jeer in the background, shouting various comments.

  It was earth versus water. Roots, vines, rocks, leaves, thorns, and sand clashed against waves, jets, vortexes, bursts, tides, and steam. Thankfully, the magic didn't actually affect the environment outside of the dueling square, so nobody was in danger of drowning, and no boulders came flying out to crush us. But that didn't stop the two of them. The spells kept flying, each one of them either blocked or evaded. They moved swiftly across the square, never getting too close or crossing over any of the lines that marked the limits of the area. They seemed to be rather well-matched. Claude was clearly more aggressive in his attacks, whereas Viktor appeared to be the more calculated. The class continued to shout and egg them on.

  After about five minutes, however, their movements became noticeably slower. More laboured. I wondered how long this was going to go on before they wore each other out, or someone backed down. Neither of them looked willing to give in, though. I couldn't help but wonder if their pride was at stake.

  "Go, go!" called Ivahr, cupping his hands on either side of his mouth.

  "Get him, Vik!" Ashkan added.

  "Kick his arse!" yelled Miseris.

  Viktor couldn't resist a brief snicker at that before turning his attention back to Claude. He lunged forward and summoned a spear made out of pure sandstone, jabbing it toward his opponent, but Claude parried with his arm and countered with a burst of steam. Viktor didn't miss a beat, summoning a ball of mud in his hand, which he hurled at Claude. But the mud only landed at his feet and exploded in a shower of slop. A small whirlwind whipped up from where Viktor stood, sending dust and scattering leaves into the air, but Claude swept it aside with a blast of water. Viktor spun on his heels, dodging, and it crashed behind him before dissolving.

  This dance of back and forth, attack and parry, seemed endless, until Claude sent another tidal wave barreling toward Viktor, knocking him off-balance. He tumbled backwards and hit the floor hard, the wind knocked out of him. I heard a loud groan of pain.

  The crowd burst into a cacophony of shouts.

  Professor Cenine lifted a hand. "Halt! The duel is over!" He nodded once and looked at Claude, his face serious. "Well done, young man. That was adequate. And you?" He looked at Viktor as he rose from the floor, trying to dust himself off. "Good reflexes, and fast. But you could work on your footwork." He shrugged and glanced at the two of them again. "It was an impressive display of duelling, and I hope it serves as a good lesson to everyone else. Always keep a level head in a duel. It's as easy to make mistakes if you're being too careless, or too defensive."

  Viktor looked mildly embarrassed but took it with dignity. Claude looked smug. The rest of the class, though, was cheering and applauding. Claude held up his hands in a sort of 'You're welcome' gesture, basking in their approval. He gave us a sort of roguish grin when his gaze slid to me. My mouth was set in a straight line as I met his eyes for a second. He raised an eyebrow.

  I said nothing and transferred my attention to Viktor instead. "Hey. Great job! You held your own pretty well."

  He grinned and made a playful, exaggerated bow. "Many thanks."

  Ashkan patted him on the back. "Well done."

  He beamed. "Why, thank you! You know, I could probably beat him if he wanted a rematch..."

  "Or I could stand in for ya," Ivahr chimed in, cracking his knuckles. "He needs a real challenge. He's lookin' for it. And I've never backed down from a fight."

  Shaye sighed lightly. "Always looking for trouble..."

  "Trouble is my middle name." He folded his arms behind his head.

  "I thought it was 'Disorderly-Conduct'," Miseris quipped with an arched brow.

  Ivahr shrugged, clearly amused. "Eh. Same thing."

  We all shared a small laugh.

  Professor Cenine continued the lesson by assigning us several chapters from our textbook on different combat strategies and spell formations, then ended class there. I hadn't expected the time to fly by so quickly. As we left the classroom, Claude seemed to be making a point to hover a little too close for my liking. When I realized, I cast a furtive glance toward him. He smirked a little, but said nothing, his eyes trailing me. I sped up to rejoin the others.

  The rest of my day passed rather uneventfully. I had training, then I stopped by The Roaring Witch to give Elliott Lilwen's amulet – which he seemed confident he'd be able to repair – then returned to Earth for my typical eight p.m. weekday dinner and homework.

  When I checked my phone, there were no texts from Spencer. It was something to be expected to since our...talk. But not something I was used to. I knew I needed to fix things. ASAP. But I knew I couldn't do it alone. To make things truly right, I'd require some assistance from a certain someone with much more influence than me.

  My muscles tensed with nervousness as I walked up to Spencer's door that Saturday afternoon, but I had no choice. This needed to be done. I raised my fist and rapped twice on the wood. After a minute, I heard movement inside, and the lock clicked open. The door creaked ajar to reveal Spencer on the other side, dressed in a plain grey hoodie and a pair of ripped black skinny jeans. Her eyes landed on me and I watched her pause for a beat.

  She blinked once before giving a soft sigh. "Chloe?"

  I offered a hesitant smile, which I hoped looked genuine. "Hey... I'm glad you're home. I think we should talk. About... About everything that's happened. But I'd understand if you'd rather not."

  Spencer watched me for a second before leaning against the doorframe and giving a half-shrug, looking like she was debating on how to respond. "All right. We probably should, honestly."

  "Are your parents around? Your brother?"

  She shook her head and waved for me to follow her inside. "I'm all by myself right now."

  That made me relax a little. We'd need privacy for this. I nodded and stepped into the house as she closed the door behind us, then we walked through the living room and up the stairs until we got to her room. We entered. I paused when I caught sight of her bed and all the memories flooded back in my mind: the conversations we had here, the movie marathons we watched, the nights I'd stayed over and played video games with her until four in the morning.

  She closed the door, cutting off my line of thought. "Okay, so... Where do we begin?"

  "Um..." I exhaled. "Well, you already know how sorry I am about missing your exhibition. At least, I hope I've made that clear. I would never miss something so important to you on purpose."

  "I know. That's why it was so weird," she replied.

  "It was just...a string of events that couldn't be helped," I muttered. I was assuming (and praying) that Luke hadn't told her that my lie about babysitting Winnie with a dead phone had been... Well, a lie. I still felt terrible about having to do it. But there really was no alternative.

  "It's fine. I forgive you." She moved over and sat down on the edge of the bed. I did the same, but stayed quiet and let her talk. "Look, I've never really said this, but... I feel like I can be...a little...neglected." She lifted one shoulder and kept her eyes on the floor, a sort of blank look on her face. "It's kind of my own fault because I know I never bring it up and I let it slide. But I think that's partly because you always seemed so independent, and independent people have a way of not really needing to be around others."

  I wanted to be offended, but I couldn't be. Because it was somewhat true. Aside from my parents, I'd never needed someone in my life to make me feel whole or happy or fulfilled. I'd never needed someone else to to be my caretaker, my rock, or whatever else. Nor had I expected that from anyone. It just...wasn't something that happened in my brain.

  Spencer continued. "I know that sounds selfish, and it is, in a way, I guess. But I can't help it. I want to be your friend, but... I want you to want me there, too." Her expression was vulnerable, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "It feels like...lately, you're kinda preoccupied. Busy with other stuff. And that's totally okay! But..." She exhaled a small laugh, then shrugged. "It's just a thing. That's why I was upset with you about missing my exhibition. Even though it was an accident. And... Yeah."

  My stomach twisted in guilt, but I managed to nod. "Okay. That makes sense. And it's fine to be honest. I know I can be busy. And I know sometimes I don't answer my phone for hours at a time... I'm really sorry about that, too. But I will try harder. It's just...a weird time in my life." That felt like the understatement of the century.

  "Yeah, I can get that. Everyone's stressed about graduating and becoming an adult... It's just that we're friends. Best friends. At least, I like to think of you as my best friend. So, I don't always want to be the one making plans. I don't want to feel like me texting you is annoying. And sometimes, I just need someone to talk to. Because it's nice. Because you're one of the only people in school who seems to give a fuck." She chuckled dryly.

  I leaned back. "I don't want you to think I don't care about you. I care a lot. You're my best friend too. I guess I've just never realized that my actions give off that impression because it's...not a normal thing for me. I've always been...alone." My brow furrowed slightly, remembering how isolated I'd felt back in Minnesota. "It's nothing to do with the person. I think my threshold for reaching out to ask for company is just higher, I dunno... But that doesn't excuse me neglecting you, and I'll work on it. I'll...be better."

  "Damn..." Spencer let out a little laugh, but her tone was still serious. "That was some real self-reflection, Chloe. Look at you, you're a new woman." She shook her head. "I don't always get that introverted stuff. I mean, I've had my share of introversion, but... Anyway. I don't want this to be some super depressing conversation. Just... Yeah. It's something to keep in mind, right? We can't all be perfect best friends and I need you to be...just a bit more inclined to actually want to spend time together. It's a two-way street, yeah?"

  "Of course," I agreed.

  She leaned over to bump shoulders with me and smiled. "Good. Thanks."

  I paused to think. "So... We're good, then?"

  "We're good." She grinned, then fell back to lie flat on the bed with her legs still hanging over the edge. "You're stuck with me, and I'm stuck with you."

  "Glad to hear it."

  We shared a chuckle before lapsing into a short silence. I laid down, too. We both looked at the ceiling.

  Spencer was the first to speak up, her voice more light and upbeat this time. "Anything else you wanna talk about? Any news to report? Any gossip to spill?"

  "Nope. Unless you're interested in the latest chapter of my never-ending drama with Luke," I said.

  "Uh, do bears shit in the woods? Yes, I'm interested." She propped herself up on her elbow to face me, her eyes alight with amusement. "What happened now?"

  I proceeded to relay to her everything that happened that past Sunday, from when I'd gotten in his car to when he'd dropped me off back home, with as many details as possible. I knew Spencer would eat it up. When I got to the part when we'd confessed our mutual feelings to one another, she made a sound like she was about to pass out and clutched my arm.

  "Oh. My. God." She was staring at me like I'd just announced that I won a Nobel Peace Prize. "I can't believe it. Finally. I mean... You like each other and it took you two long enough, but now it's... It's a thing? Right? What does this mean?"

  I gestured vaguely. "That's just it, I don't know what this means. We're both painfully aware of the whole college issue. Similar to what you and Joel are thinking about, actually. That's the main reason we didn't pursue things any further, but I feel like it's something we can't avoid. And now things are just...weird. In limbo."

  "Yeah, well, things will always be weird until you two just make a damn decision," Spencer insisted. "That's what happens in all those romantic movies where the protagonists take, like, an entire year to actually make up their minds about something. It's sweet you guys are thinking about it that seriously, though. But I'll tell you one thing. There is no way you should be spending this summer apart. Like...none. You both need to figure this out, because, Chloe... You are going to miss your shot, I swear to god. He might meet someone else."

  My jaw set. The thought was both infuriating and upsetting. I knew I shouldn't care. And I shouldn't care that it upset me that I shouldn't care. "Harsh, but true. But I...don't know what I want."

  "What's there to not know?" she countered. "Do you like him? Yes. Does he like you? Yes. Are you going to be in college together? No. But is long-distance impossible? Also no. It's just different."

  I didn't want to tell her that I was becoming conflicted about my expanding feelings for a boy that was not Luke, one that lived in a whole different universe. But it was still too early to tell whether anything would happen with Ashkan anyway. I honestly doubted he'd reciprocate. Besides, liking him like that was an awful idea in every sense of the word. And he seemed so uninterested in romantic entanglements. Maybe Luke was better for me, if he did actually like me. Regardless, there was still the everlasting question: What if I don't survive the war?

  I just had to make a decision. A careful, calculated, covert decision. One of my least favourite activities.

  "Yeah," I muttered. "But...it's still something to consider. Neither of us are the casual type. I don't just want some summer fling or to have an experience just to have it. And I don't even know if I want to date him for real... I don't even know if it'd work out if I did try. All I know is that I'm attracted to him, I like spending time with him, and I want to be more than friends. Is that enough? Should I just say, 'Hey, let's date; we have to make this work; long-distance be damned; it's now or never'?"

  "Um. Yes!" Spencer looked at me as if I'd gone mad. "It is enough. Because there's so much there. It'd be the dumbest move not to try. It'd be even dumber to let him just slip through your fingers."

  First Shaye was telling me to go for it, and now Spencer. Two people who I trusted with my life. I sighed. "All right, all right. Maybe I should just ask him out and see what happens... It's better than wondering, right?"

  "Exactly! Glad we're on the same page."

  "And there's still time... Six months left in the school year and a couple more months after that. It could go anywhere," I mumbled, as much to reassure myself as anyone else.

  "Well, don't drag your feet. But yeah." Spencer sat up, her expression shifting slightly. "Chloe... Just do whatever makes you happy. That's all. Don't decide one thing because you feel like you should, or you think it's right or logical or whatever. This isn't a math test. It's not even life or death."

  I smiled. If only she knew. "Okay. Thanks for the advice. I'll need to work up my courage a little bit...but I feel good about this."

  "Awesome," she replied. "I can't wait for the wedding."

  "Oh, shut up," I laughed.

  She checked the time on her phone. "You didn't apologize about everything just to get me to help you with your boy problems, right? 'Cause that'd be super messed up."

  I rolled my eyes, a grin pulling at the corner of my mouth. "No, no. Just an extra bonus. But no. That's all. And it's a big bonus. Thank you."

  "I do what I can."

  "But, I do have something else to tell you. Something a lot more important than boy trouble," I said, sitting up and moving to sit criss-cross on the bed.

  Spencer quirked an eyebrow in interest. "Oh no. What? Are you gonna tell me you're pregnant or something? Did you get arrested? Did you kill someone?"

  "Wow, those are the kind of scenarios you have in mind when you're talking to me?" I shot back with a laugh.

  She chuckled and held up her hands. "Well, I dunno. You seem to be into all that sneaky stuff. But whatever, just tell me what your big important secret is. You're killing me."

  I drew a breath, then said, "Okay. Remember when I said I'd make things up to you? Because I missed your exhibition? I've figured out how I want to do it."

  "Oh yeah?" She tilted her head. "Do tell."

  "So, it's not all figured out yet... And obviously, if you're not cool with the idea, you don't have to go along with it. But I showed my mom some of the art from your website." I paused for effect. "And... She and her team think that a partnership between you and the label could really work out. They're interested in putting some of your graphics on their clothing, or using your style to design some pieces."

  Her jaw dropped. "What?! WHAT?!"

  I laughed as she grabbed me by the shoulders. "Yes! I'm dead serious. The company is no Chanel or whatever, but it'd get you exposure and would definitely be good experience. If it goes well, we might have something really exciting going on here. What do you think?"

  "I think..." She stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "That you're batshit. Are you being serious right now?! For real?"

  I grinned at her enthusiasm. "Yes! It's no lie. We're still hashing out some details, but I promise it's real. So, what do you think? Should I tell her yes?"

  "Uh, I don't know. Do you think she can give me, like...a million dollars in exchange?"

  I chuckled at that. "Sadly, I don't think so, Spence. Even if you deserve it. But it could be something you work towards. It's just the first step of many, and you're young."

  She threw herself back onto the bed dramatically and covered her face with her hands. "This is a dream. This is a dream. I don't know what to do. I'm gonna puke or something..."

  "You can take as much time as you need to think it over."

  "No, no, no, no." Spencer sat up suddenly. "I'm saying yes. Of course I'm saying yes! This is crazy! Chloe! Oh my god! Chloe?! What the hell?!" She laughed breathily and jumped to her feet, pacing across the room and gesturing wildly as she ranted to herself in a quiet tone.

  "I take it this is a good sign," I mused. "Imagine your graphics on jackets, shirts, hats... Now there's a look."

  She whipped around to face me and pressed her palms together like she was praying. "Okay, I have about five billion thoughts right now and I am literally losing my mind. You just changed my entire future."

  I couldn't help but laugh again. "It's just an opportunity."

  She shook her head vehemently, then walked over and hugged me tight. "I'm not crying, I swear to god. Don't say anything." She drew away to hold me by the shoulders. "If you weren't, like, the nicest person ever, I would literally kill you for making me like this. Holy shit... Okay. Okay."

  "I'll give my mom your email so you two can work out the details with the designers. If you need anything from me, let me know," I went on.

  "I'm gonna die." She clapped her hands over her mouth.

  "I hope not," I replied with a smile.

  "Thank you so much, Chloe." She looked at me like I'd given her the best Christmas present ever. "This is just... This is literally everything. I mean, my art in fashion? Me, a graphic artist, in fashion? What?! And to have this come from a real-ass label? From a brand that even my dad recognizes? Huh?!"

  I nodded. "You deserve it."

  Spencer stared at me for a long moment. Her eyes were shining like she might burst into tears at any second. Then she blinked and stepped back a bit. "Damn. It's a good day."

  "Definitely," I agreed.

  "Okay." She sucked in a breath, then clapped her hands. "Well, I am actually so fucking stoked right now that I need to take a lap. Wanna go for a walk and maybe get some food?"

  "Sure!" I answered. "So, are we even now?"

  She laughed loudly. "Mm, all right. I suppose your sins are forgiven."

  "Phew." I grinned as I followed her to the front door.

  I couldn't help but feel good. It felt nice to do things for people. Actually, I couldn't believe I hadn't done this earlier. I felt a bit guilty that this whole thing was inspired by a suggestion Luke had made last week. Not that I wasn't motivated by the idea on my own, but he was the one to prompt it. At least the outcome was positive. I'd made someone happy. That felt pretty great. I didn't do it nearly enough.

  Maybe I was really growing up. Or maybe I was just going soft.

  Or both.