There will come a day where the blasphemous mark is revealed; a raven-haired man shall bring an epoch of carnage and anarchy. When the moment transpires that the lost heir returns, a long-awaited union will clarify what was clouded. It shall be on the day that metals are reunited and the champions reach adulthood that an unspoken promise will mark the strengthening of power. If the stars are to fall from the sky and what is blue turns red, the broken promise will usher forth the downfall of two kingdoms. Only if the ether regains its serene divinity will the courageous hearts of saviours be able to vanquish the invading empire and gift the next era of peace.

  It was easy to find a copy of the Tremaium prophecy in any library, tavern, or temple. It was about fifteen years old, after all. There was a good chance you'd find it on some page of any given Emiarhian newspaper. The real problem was finding someone who could decipher it. The crinkled clipping sat on my lap as I absentmindedly tied my boot laces for training that day. Most of the prophecy was engraved into my memory at that point, but it was only somewhat clearer than it'd been when I'd first read it. It was a little hard not to obsess over it. It was about me, to be fair.

  We were looking for a man with blue-black hair; that much was obvious. I was starting to wonder if that man was Vhinrud, but I couldn't be certain. I'd only seen him once. I wasn't sure how anyone was supposed to distinguish raven hair from regular black hair in such a dark chamber, while also worrying about staying alive and protecting Ashkan. Also, the ends of his hair were grey. But regardless, if he was the focal point of all this, why wasn't he more involved? Why hadn't we met him already? Why wasn't he famous?

  Everything was all speculation. 'Mark' could refer to the Inkbloods' tattoos. But why would their symbol be specifically blasphemous? I could be the 'lost heir', but an heir to what? Maybe it’s someone we haven't met yet. The part about metals reuniting was definitely about the three necklaces. And the part after about us reaching 'adulthood' had been cause for much back-and-forth, but at least it was mostly straightforward. Everything after that was just nonsense. Stars falling from the sky? Something blue turning red? The downfall of two kingdoms? I sighed. It was all too cryptic.

  I was so absorbed in my own thoughts that I didn't notice Ashkan lifting my right hand. Completely oblivious, I kept my eyes glued on the words before me as he began wrapping cloth around my wrist. After nearly a week in the infirmary, Lunellia had finally decided he was well enough to be discharged. Today was our first day back on duty since the incident. Our trainers were easing us back in, though. It was a simple day of mobility, agility, and flexibility exercises. Nothing strenuous.

  Ashkan was concentrating hard on the task at hand, brow furrowed and lips pressed together. It was kind of cute.

  "What are you doing?" I asked, finally diverting my attention.

  He looked up, his expression relaxed, and he offered a lopsided smile. "Helping."

  This circumstance had become a routine of sorts over the past month or two. I could never quite get the hang of hand wraps. Whether by misfortune or impatience, either they were too loose and fell off during practice, or too tight and constricted my blood flow. There were plenty of occasions where Ashkan ended up having to rewrap my hands. I didn't want to take advantage of his kindness, but it was admittedly nice to have help.

  After securing my right hand, he stood up and moved to sit on my left. I kept reading. I needed the distraction. Ashkan's ability to rouse colour into my face was getting to be uncanny. And annoying. I felt my left hand leave my side. He positioned my wrist on his knee so that he could wrap it. Again, my eyes didn't leave the prophecy. I read it over and over. Why did I expect the answer to suddenly pop out to me?

  From the corner of my vision, I saw Ashkan stop in his tracks. It took me a second to figure out what he was staring at. The scars. Of course. Both sides of my hand were healed by now, thanks to some more magic – and by healed, I mean the scars had faded from a bright red-pink to a slightly shiny white. Still noticeable. Funny how, despite how major they seemed, their existence was easy to forget. I guessed Ash was trying to do the same; not a day went by where his left forearm wasn't covered by fabric.

  "What?" I turned to face him.

  He immediately looked away, then shook his head and started wrapping my hand again.

  "It's okay," I assured him. "It was worth it."

  He shifted uncomfortably and finished in silence. Once he was done, he glanced at the clock over the arena entrance. We had some time to kill before being called to warm-ups.

  I bit my lip, thinking. The prophecy was currently taking up more space in my brain than anything else. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to remember what colour hair Vhinrud has, do you?"

  The abruptness of the question seemed to throw Ashkan for a loop. He paused. "Uh... Hold on, don't tell me. Er, brown?"

  "Nevermind."

  Unless it was an extremely dark shade of brown, I was sure the correct answer was black. Either way, it didn't seem we'd confirmed who the 'raven-haired man' was just yet. And anyway, I had a feeling Vhinrud was going to make our lives more difficult no matter what.

  Shaye and I hadn't interacted much since our heated disagreement two days ago. Granted, we weren't exactly in direct communication recently, with both school and training being paused, but it wasn't like we were actively avoiding each other. Though, she certainly wasn't approaching me first either. And from that, I guessed we had something of an unspoken agreement not to have a real conversation until questions were answered. Namely, whether or not I'd accidentally learned dark magic and was being slowly corrupted by it. I didn't want to believe it. With that said, it did absolutely freak me out. So, naturally, Shaye's claims were lodged somewhere at the back of my brain, mostly ignored, as I tried to navigate other emotional dilemmas.

  I didn't end up returning those tomes to the Academy. At least not until I could learn more about dark magic in general. Maybe it was out of defiance, maybe to simply justify myself. The fact of the matter was that I had a lot of questions, and those books were unfortunately the only things that would be able to provide answers. The more I read, the more answers I found. It was a fair trade-off for how impossible it was to get my hands on them. Still, every new session I spent secretly reading at Kadia's house was an exercise in guilt. Did I really want to be unethically pursuing questionable topics? But it was difficult not to feel a bizarre connection, almost a necessity, to uncover secrets of this forbidden sorcery.

  A tome titled 'Fundamentals of the Dark Arts' detailed the complex mechanisms of a phenomenon called life-force siphoning – the act of drawing essence from another living organism. My pulse quickened as I skimmed the paragraphs. Everything sounded way too familiar. Even the smallest aspects of the descriptions directly coincided with what I remembered experiencing so many times before, under Miss Lucera's instruction. It was astounding. There had to be some sort of explanation, some sort of misunderstanding. All I wanted was to understand more about what Ashkan had experienced, the draining of power he'd described. I now had to worry about if this siphoning was also corruptive, and if he was actually infected like Shaye thought I was. The way the book described it, it was very possible. That energy absorption was a key element of dark magic, and was fundamentally hostile and inherently dangerous. Everything I'd possibly, unintentionally been doing.

  Despite my increasing stress, I kept reading. Perhaps I was looking for some sort of comfort or confirmation that Shaye's hypothesis was mistaken. That somehow, despite the eerily matching symptoms, my energy-transferring was something unrelated, something neutral and harmless. I scoured through text after text, searching for an alternate explanation. Instead, I stumbled upon something most unexpected: mentions of Winithas' very first prince. 'The Twisted Prince', as Zyel had called him. A dated, old tome, riddled with loose edges and yellowed pages, drew me in by more than just its small, fragile, antique cover. 'His Highness' Tenebris: A Lethal Fascination', by R. Sygallos.

  ...The royal lineage of Winithas is a discrepancy embedded into Emiarhia's history. Being the only line entirely severed from the original King and Queen chosen by the gods at the moment this world was created, the only child of the first Winithinian family alone is an enigma. Despite the realm being the most influential and populated of the seven, which led to the gods' creation of the royal sceptre, it is puzzling that any family crafted by deities was wiped from existence within the first two generations of it. His Highness Prince Lanzeroth Drekásta Gowayn, the sole heir of the first Winithinian king, was born with a severe immunodeficiency, and spent the entirety of his childhood undergoing intensive treatment. This led him to be hidden from the public eye. It is his relationship to this obscurity that has kept many questions unanswered, for with no memory to speak of concerning his father or his time amongst royalty, everything presented of his supposed truth are often vague accounts or mere assumptions. What can be assured, however, are the allegations of unsavoury ambitions that followed Prince Lanzeroth for all the years of his brief and hidden life. Due to his physical frailty, his personality was greatly affected.

  Much has been concluded by inference. The details, though mostly obscure, point to what could be considered an overwhelming obsession. Connected with his interests were a variety of peculiar experiments dealing with the mind and body. Likewise, there are many anecdotes that trace his attempts to increase the functionality of his own, failing systems. Several ancient tales suggest that the Prince investigated magic to find a solution. In fact, it is believed that through this pursuit, he developed a new, entirely unknown, type of sorcery. Magic too volatile, too incomprehensible to replicate, left behind the remnants of some unnatural, corruptive power. However, this theory remains to be supported by more substantial evidence. For it was told that no one who encountered this extraordinary type of sorcery would keep any sanity. Furthermore, Emiarhia was mere decades old, and magic during this time was largely superficial and insubstantial. With this in mind, is it possible for some sickly boy – however far removed from normalcy he was – to craft such vile, macabre sorcery? Given such opacity and confusion, such uncertainty and inconsistency surrounding the story, it is unlikely any satisfactory answers will be uncovered. It is probable that the majority of these rumours originate from the fantastical atmosphere that persisted all the way until his death, clouding the clarity that surrounds Prince Lanzeroth and his legacy. Yet, despite this apparent improbability, there is no doubt in my mind that the only son of King Hreiuk Gowayn has contributed a share of darkness to our recorded history, whether intentional or not, long forgotten or recently uncovered, as a stain to the glory that he shall not be connected with.

  It wasn't until my eyes fell upon the words 'sickly boy' that the contents of this passage began sinking in. Since when had I been reading a biography on The Twisted Prince? How had the tides of interest carried me so far astray? This wasn't a dark magic book at all. I stared at the yellowed page, eyes drifting over the words but not quite comprehending their meaning, too absorbed in my thoughts. All this told me was that Lanzeroth may have contributed to creating dark magic, in a roundabout way. Which if true, meant that either his work was continued by others over time, or that his work was itself a continuation of someone else's. But all that was over six hundred years ago. It didn't have much relevance to today.

  The last book I'd rented out from the Academy's library seemed unhelpful at first glance, but at that point, I'd grabbed all I could get my hands on. It turned out that my instinct was correct. The only interesting thing about it was that it contradicted Sygallos' and other similar authors' claims; instead, the book presented the possibility that Lanzeroth may have had something of an epiphany, but that he died too soon for anyone to actually know if it was a breakthrough. Written just a few years ago by Alec Mavourneen, 'The Tragic, Ephemeral Reign of King Lanzeroth Gowayn' had a different, positive take on the tale of Winithas' first prince:

  ...While many believe his attempts at uncovering the possibilities of early magic were unorthodox and bizarre, the Prince did have some substantial insights into spellcasting. Most notably, his musings on how to efficiently gather magic from the environment without the need for runes, tools, incantations, or materials – in contrast to more primitive manifestations of this art form – are what sparked a movement of furthering the research of these theories in his absence. Thus, Lanzeroth, in his efforts to remedy his ailing constitution, made great leaps towards modern, effective sorcery. Surrounded by god-fearing individuals and debatably heedless parents, however, the majority of these breakthroughs were stifled and later suppressed.

  I flipped to the back, checking to see if there was a glossary. There wasn't, so I thumbed through the book's contents curiously for any other interesting passages.

  ...It is therefore accurate to ascertain that his lack of social skills due to his sequestration grew from an environment of emotional disconnect. Prince Lanzeroth's relations, or lack thereof, to those around him, and his rather unique, convoluted character, were perceived in a variety of ways. Most biasedly among them that he was the embodiment of evil. More reasonably, his oddity simply suggested he was a product of his times, a prince of the budding, religiously motivated country of Winithas, unnecessarily fearful and paranoid. To consider how Prince Lanzeroth was unorthodox for his environment then, is to understand him from a more realistic angle. His short life and relatively ambiguous path are defined by numerous uncertainties, none of which are wholly satisfactory. Therefore, perhaps it is more apt to sympathize with him, as we can only wonder how his tale could have ended if left up to him. After all, in retrospect, Lanzeroth's tale has a tragic, heroic edge to it. A brilliant visionary born with a debilitating ailment, raised by distant caregivers in an unkind time, finding solace in hazy mysteries that granted him a semblance of control over his body and abilities.

  Following his father's untimely death, the man once ferociously deemed unfit to rule rose to the throne, and slowly became disenchanted by the strict, religious limitations of his country. So, he turned his back on the gods in order to face progress. In time, like a conflagration spreading without check in a dry forest, the population was won over by his drive to overcome their trials and build a future beyond their confines. Fearful of his pagan views and angered by his disregard of faith, the gods themselves intervened. They destroyed the divine sceptre that had been previously used to control them, along with the six holy gemstones. Prince Lanzeroth had no interest in his father's trinket, nor its precious gems, for he cared little for authority over immortals he did not worship. Thus, he was left alone, condemned to a world where one would rule as a mere figurehead... A delectable irony, is it not, that despite having been born with an incurable disorder that the gods refused to attend to – as the gods of Emiarhia failed so many of its people throughout its history – King Lanzeroth Drekásta Gowayn would still become known for shaking their control over the seven realms? They chose to leave his reign unprotected as they vanished without a trace. He persevered, in spite of his limitations and, perhaps, because of them. It is thanks to him that we live in an age free of the gods, allowing us the privilege and opportunity to pursue happiness, health, and knowledge.

  This world owes much of its advancement to a young man whose light was forever dimmed much too soon. Perhaps in another time, in another world, his name could have been famous not only amongst his own people, but across all realms, for he was a kindred spirit; a fighter that sought out healing through thought and belief. Would Lanzeroth remain beloved and remembered as the rebel King? Is the answer simply a tale of one-sided contention? And – most importantly – was he a dangerous villain responsible for his own gruesome death, or a tragic hero doomed by outside circumstance?

  My jaw hung open as I stared blankly at the page. This Alec Mavourneen guy seemed to be on the Prince's side, as well as decidedly atheist, but I was a little unsure as to why he wrote such a passionate analysis. Did he just have a thing against the gods? And how did he know about the sceptre and gemstones? Perhaps he was close to the current royal family…or the Elders. Those things weren't secrets by any means, but they weren't common knowledge, either. Regardless, Alec's opinion was not only refreshing to read, but it also put everything I'd known into an entirely new perspective. This was exactly the sort of thing I didn't need. With so much confusion as to what I'd been doing these past few days, I really didn't need a re-examination of the truth about Winithas' first prince to get jumbled up in my head. It didn't have any connection to what I was studying at the moment. But... I did find it pretty intriguing.

  "Brielle! I thought I told you not to read that rubbish in my house!" Kadia snapped, snatching the book from my hands. I hadn't realized she'd come up to the loft, where I'd been sitting and reading the entire time.

  My heart jumped out of my chest. "Aaah! How did–? When did you–?" I sputtered.

  "I live here," she replied flatly, shoving the tome back into my open satchel. "Listen to me. As soon as the Academy reopens in two days, you will take all of these back. No exceptions. Do you understand me?" She stared at me intensely. "These books are the source of all sorts of troubles in Emiarhia. Dark magic is dangerous."

  I could feel a vein pulsing in my head as my frustration bubbled to the surface. I was done being spoken down to by everyone about everything. "Yes. I'm sure it's incredibly dangerous for people to use it when they aren't allowed to read about it."

  "What are you saying? Do you even understand the risks?" Her eyes narrowed, and a scowl etched itself across her features.

  "Yes, Shaye has made them excruciatingly clear. But I wouldn't have to resort to these dusty old texts if you people just explained it to me. I'm already worrying about me getting corrupted or whatever it is that everyone seems to think is going to happen. I don't need you adding on more stress by making it so I'm afraid of even knowing what the hell it is I'm trying to fix."

  She paused. "…I suppose there's a degree of validity to what you've just said," she replied begrudgingly. "In any case, you need to come with me. You're overdue for some answers, and I am overdue for some peace of mind."

  "Where are we going?" I asked, following her down the loft ladder.

  "Let's see," she pondered out loud. "Both you and Ashkan have been directly exposed to dark magic as a result of Vhinrud's attacks. It's possible that Shaye was as well. If that was not enough cause for concern, you have also unknowingly been learning dark magic yourself. I have arranged for the four of us to visit the Elders, and hopefully they can shed some light on these matters. Unless you have some sort of divine protection from profane infection, which would certainly be an interesting discovery, you are most definitely somewhat contaminated by now."

  My mouth suddenly went dry, and my palms began to sweat. "Y'know, you're not the most comforting person."

  She let out a deep breath. "I apologize. It is not my intent to distress you. It is only that the implications of your situation are...less than ideal."

  "What else is new?" I mumbled. "But, do you really think I've been learning black spells? Are you sure it's not ancient magic?"

  "Considering that the latter has yet to be something I've encountered in my career, it's a more likely explanation, wouldn't you say? Either that, or Miss Lucera has secretly invented her own redundant form of sorcery," she replied.

  "Okay, okay. I get it."

  The village of Ymsirene always looked the same no matter what time of year I visited. The entirety of Adares was like that, actually. All the houses looked identical; wooden, low, and cone-roofed with brown shingles, evenly spaced stone walkways, and tidy gardens. Some of them had weather-smoothed doors decorated with elaborate carvings. It could barely be called a village, though. It was more of a clump. It was like a video game where the area assets were copied and pasted about twenty times over, and the developers would call it a 'town'. The realm was positively deserted. The population count couldn't have been higher than forty-five thousand. There were barely any stores, busy streets, or even any other travellers or people passing through on their way to who-knows-where.

  Adares was not that much smaller than Winithas by landmass, and yet, those two realms represented the book ends of how populated this world was. But it didn't take long for me to remember why this placed seemed so uninhabitable. Temperatures were known to reach as low as negative ninety degrees Fahrenheit during the winter if you were up in the mountains. Snow, ice, and rock ruled the range, and you were never more than a few miles from a possible death, whether it was due to cliffs or avalanches. Or both. There were a handful of villages and towns located throughout the freezing wasteland, but a considerable portion of the realm was untouched land. Much of it was unsettled and peppered by an almost impassable mountain range. How the natives survived it all was a mystery.

  Kadia, Ashkan, Shaye, and I took our pegasi from Alselian to Lyuethyr. We'd landed within twenty minutes. I'd forgotten once again that pegasi can speak telepathically, so the whole journey involved several annoying, casual conversations with the group of equines. Taphira, my steed, was particularly chatty. I suppose I was thankful for that, in hindsight. It kept my mind distracted from thinking about whether or not I was a danger to society. We left the mounts behind to graze and relax inside Ymsirene's heated stables before heading off to the Elders' temple.

  As we walked, Kadia handed out translating earpieces and microphone discs – Elliott's inventions. I clipped it to my ear. There was a quiet, rhythmic whirring coming from the small gadget.

  The stone temple stood alone and proud on a flat plain, which was as far as the eye could see in one direction. It was tall and narrow with a sloping, cone roof. It looked similar to some pagodas back on Earth, but with stained-glass windows and pillars. The six windows created a mosaic of vivid colours that made for an eye-catching sight in an otherwise lifeless expanse. The whole area was dead silent; even our footsteps didn't seem to make noise. There was just something about this temple, this entire area of this planet, that had the uncanny ability to make people feel stranded, no matter the season. I shivered, missing the sun.

  Kadia stepped forward, rapping loudly on the tall, wooden door. After a few moments, it creaked open, and we were greeted by the face of a woman no taller than five feet, dressed in a simple, grey robe. It looked like a mix between a kimono and a toga. The sleeves were long and hung down loosely, and she wore a rope belt. It was exactly the same every time I saw her. She smiled at the sight of us and motioned for us to follow.

  We all bowed respectfully upon entering. Like always, the main floor of the temple was just a large room with some candles scattered throughout and cushions to sit on. It was one big meditation lounge, basically. Incense burners were mounted in various places. There was no decoration on the plain walls or windows, and the floors were polished stone underneath a circular carpet. From the ceiling hung several long chimes and wind spinners that cast interesting shapes on the ground. It was dimly lit despite the coloured light flooding in from the windows. At the other end of the room, there was an opening in the wall covered by a thin veil of hanging fabric, which led to an adjoining room.

  After removing our footwear, heavy coats, and the like, we were all offered tea and some kind of pastry before we sat down on the cushions.

  "Greetings, saviours and company. We welcometh thee back," one of the six Elders said. "Kadia, 'tis our understanding that thou hast come with pressing queries."

  She nodded. "Yes, thank you for your time. As I explained in my letter, the Luminaries have been recently exposed to significant levels of abyssal magic during the quest to...recover Ashkan. In addition to foreseeable subjection in combat, I have reason to suspect that Brielle specifically has also been learning it, inadvertently. We wish to seek your counsel."

  "Thou art wise, Kadia, to have taken caution." A different Elder looked at each of us, studying us thoughtfully. "Brielle, wouldst thou kindly share thine experience with us?"

  I took a deep breath and spoke into my translator. "Well, um... It's all been fairly bizarre. With regard to me learning dark magic, I had no idea that was a possibility. At the Academy, Miss Lucera has been conducting private lessons with me every school day since the summer, in order to help me catch up to the other students my age. Spellcasting, Qy'shaklei, history, geography. That sort of material. And...towards the end of this past semester, the subject matter became more...divergent, I suppose. She had told me that Headmaster Gunthren instructed her to teach me ancient magic, and that this branch was complex, but very powerful. She explained that it would help strengthen my magical arsenal, and that not everyone is allowed to learn it. In fact, most students aren't familiar with it. The point is, I had no idea it was anything but ancient magic."

  "And how, then, dost thou believe that thou hath learned dark spells?"

  "I'd never cast any ancient spell outside of Miss Lucera's office until during the, uh...incident. I thought it would be useful. I mean, if it's really so strong, wouldn't I want to use it in battle? I had no idea what it would do, but it worked, and... Well, now I have a bunch of people telling me that what I'd cast was actually dark magic. And that I'm going to be corrupted or something."

  The Elders all exchanged looks, and one of them leaned forward. "We believe that thy tutor, Lucera, hath deceived thee. Alas, ancient magic is not a branch of study, and no such category exists. Spells and magical arts may beest classified as such based on their age and history, but the magic itself hath not a distinct source. 'Tis nay different than categorizing a spell as 'old' or 'new', 'simple' or 'intricate'. 'Tis but a label. Magic evolveth, and thus, is not static. To designateth any strain of sorcery 'ancient' is simply a label for its antiquity."

  I was stunned. Here we were, learning that the only reassuring explanation for this mess wasn't even a real thing. Why would Miss Lucera lie to me? The teacher that had a huge role in helping me adjust to life in Emiarhia. The mentor I trusted to guide me and give me sound advice. The woman that always had a warm smile and kind words. She worked tirelessly to make sure she had as much time to support me as she did with her other students. She had gone above and beyond to accommodate my magical inexperience when I joined the Academy. She gave me confidence, motivation, and all the necessary resources. I was her student, and she'd never given me a reason to think she wouldn't have my best interests at heart. She'd always done so much for me. She'd become a symbol of comfort and consistency in a turbulent time. This was messed up. I'd been so careful about misplacing my trust. Why hadn't I tried to confirm with someone else before so freely taking her word for it all? Why was I so clueless? My chest felt like it was caving in.

  Kadia, Shaye, and Ashkan all turned their heads to look at me. None of them had any words.

  "Therefore... We can confirm that Brielle has indeed learned dark magic?" Kadia asked carefully.

  "Verily, it seems to be the case," an Elder replied. "Without witnessing an example, we cannot be absolutely certain. Yet thou claimeth to have no comprehension of black spells previous to 'ancient' sorcery?"

  "No. It...would never have even crossed my mind," I replied, floored.

  "I see..." The Elder placed a finger on his bearded chin. "If 'twas nothing thou foresaw, then thou needeth not be faulted. 'Twas not thine conscious intent. Couldst thee giveth us a demonstration of one of the spells thou hast learned?"

  My stomach dropped. It felt like a hot ball of panic settled itself inside of it. "Oh, uh... Wouldn't that be dangerous? I don't have as much control over it as I'd like... If something goes wrong–"

  "We insist on seeing the spell cast in person," said another Elder. The other five all nodded in agreement. "We requesteth this act purely for our edification and scrutiny."

  I glanced to the others, but none of them said a word. Shaye looked particularly anxious. Kadia had a vacant expression on her face as she fiddled with her gloves. Ashkan gazed absently through the bottom part of a stained-glass window, avoiding eye contact.

  "Okay. Are you sure?" I breathed.

  "'Tis our will."

  Slowly, I raised my hand and opened it so that my palm faced upward. It was shaking a little. I had to think of something as controllable and safe as possible. Something that could be stopped easily. Focus.

  The air bent and warped and twisted in my hand. A tiny, dark point was creating a ripple that expanded, and continued to radiate like a pebble hitting a pond's surface. The centre began to writhe and wriggle as a spot of pure nothing rose from within it, bending all of the light and colour that surrounded it. As a steady thrum of power ran through my body, I held tight to the idea of making it as small and harmless as possible – just a visual manifestation, not a weapon.

  The pitch-black mass looked like a small void in the space before me. A sphere with no dimension. It had no mass or weight, and no form or solidity, but definite presence. I focused harder on stabilizing the power. It was incredibly finicky, but still strangely satisfying to wrangle. After a few more seconds, distant shapes came into focus inside of it. They looked as though they were locked inside of glass. Writhing, squirming, clawing and gnawing. They were small. Monstrous. Demonic. So many of them. Like insects, clamouring over top of one another, desperate to escape. It must have been a miniature pocket of abyss. But it was weak. Crimson flowed around the orb and dripped from it like fresh, dark blood. The shapes seemed simultaneously organic and artificial. I couldn't be sure what I was looking at: a mass of beetles, a chunk of rotting flesh, a scrap of rusted machinery, or a pile of tarnished coins. Perhaps all of those descriptions were correct. None of them seemed mutually exclusive. Not within this twisted image.

  An Elder's commanding voice rang out, "Enough."

  I clenched my fist, and the void snapped shut, like a flower bud closing before my eyes. Energy flowed back into my veins. Nervously, I glanced around the room. Everyone's faces were written with either shock, confusion, fear, or concern. A sting of shame struck me.

  An Elder steepled their fingers together. "Most peculiar. 'Tis abyssal magic for certain. There art unmistakably primitive facets to thy expression of such techniques, but the overall result beeth identical to those of profane sorcery."

  My mouth fell open slightly, and I stammered to say something, anything, but the Elder spoke again.

  "Fear not, however. As a conclusion, thou ist not at risk of an abyssal corruption. Thy birthmark hasst granted thee an immunity."

  "What?" Kadia blurted out suddenly. "Immunity?"

  "Indeed."

  Her brow furrowed, and she looked me over. "My deepest apologies, Elder. You'll understand that I'm confused by your proclamation. Dark magic is dangerous, unstable. It is a blight on this realm. People afflicted with it have turned on their loved ones, desecrated the dead, tortured the innocent for pleasure. It is truly possible for one to be immune to such a force?"

  "'Tis most possible, and true."

  "And the saviours are, as you say, free of its influence because of their matching birthmarks?"

  "Correct."

  Kadia blinked. "How is that possible?"

  "The Vanquisher of Monstrosities Herself decreed it," another Elder replied. "Those who bear her mark of protection art impenetrable to the wrath of the damned. Their minds and hearts art stalwart against malfeasance."

  My gaze shifted to Shaye and Ashkan. They caught my eye with equally surprised expressions. It must have been as surreal for them as it was for me. It wasn't just some incredible coincidence that we were inexplicably linked by identical, star-shaped marks behind our right ears. We were genuinely destined for this. Gavphine had purposefully blessed us from the start.

  "Wow." I still couldn't believe it. "That's..."

  "...Incredible," Ashkan finished.

  "Astonishing," Shaye agreed in a quiet voice. "Forgive me for saying so, but I've never even heard of a god bestowing people with such a tangible gift. How did that blessing take place if the gods have been missing in action for centuries?"

  An Elder shook her head and pushed her long, grey-blonde braid over her shoulder. "Your birthmarks hath been affixed since thee were all approximately of the age of three. One year after thy augury wast painted within my very temple by Gavphine, She returned to mine own psyche, fleetingly and weakened, and proclaimed Her plan to me in a silent, dream-like trance. I then transferred her decree to the other Elders. Thy guardians ushered thee three to us, and I inscribed Her blessing to thee."

  "We believeth Gavphine wilt hast sensed thy duties wouldst causeth thee to beest subjected heavily to darkness," a different Elder explained, "and that thy marks wouldst grant thee the protection ye all wouldst require in such dire times. Without yond immunity, thee wouldst not have survived thy quest."

  A hushed, thoughtful silence hung over us as we digested the news. The three of us couldn't seem to tear our eyes away from one another. Neither of my parents had ever mentioned anything like this. I suppose the subject never came up. They probably never thought I'd cast dark magic myself. I wasn't looking forward to explaining that to them. My fingers unconsciously brushed the mark on my skin. It was warm.

  "Thank you for the clarification," Kadia bowed her head. "It is…quite remarkable."

  "Indeed it is," one of the Elders echoed.

  Gavphine's Elder added, "Err not, however. Her blessing preventeth not harm to thee. It simply preventeth thy psyche from being influenced or destroyed by such malignancy. Thine own safety and protection remainest thy own responsibility."

  We all nodded understandingly. It made sense. We were immune to the psychotoxic effects of dark magic, but we were still susceptible to getting stabbed and shot and beaten up, alongside magical damage of any sort. We still needed to take precautions, like anybody else. I was just relieved to hear that Ash and I would be fine.

  "Can that sort of guard be distributed to others?" Ashkan asked.

  "Alas, no," Gavphine's Elder shook her head sadly. "'Twas but a select blessing given to thee. 'Tis exceptionally rare and taxing. My hands art impotent without mine own deity's support. Our powers hath been greatly diminished in this era without theirs. I cannot artificially replicate yond effect with my own spells, though I wish I couldst. If no contact with Gavphine can beest established, I may not cast aught."

  "I see." Ashkan looked a bit disappointed. I didn't blame him. If such a powerful ward was available, why wasn't everyone under its effects? But I suppose it was a small wonder that a deity that had been absent for hundreds of years still had any reach at all, in such a weakened form. I wondered how much the gods had suffered through, losing so much of their power over time. I couldn't fathom it.

  "It's amazing that Gavphine was able to contact you twice after the gods' apparent...elimination – once for the prophecy and once for the birthmarking," I noted. "How was She able to do it?"

  "Ah. A most valid question." Gavphine's Elder replied with a knowing smile. "Gavphine wast known to possess a greater degree of resilience and potency compared to her fellow deities. Perhaps her strength simply didst not diminish at the same rate as others. Perhaps Her power remaineth in some minute fashion, in some small quantity, even after so much time hath passed."

  Kadia rubbed her temples and glanced at me. "Well, that's one mystery solved."

  "No kidding." I smiled a little.

  "We art pleased thou hast come to seek our aid," a different Elder spoke up. "Our divine services are thine to behest, if such aid shouldst still be required. Doth thee have more queries, or require further insight?"

  The four of us looked at one another again. There was definitely more that we needed to ask about. It was hard to decide what to ask next, though. My brain felt like mush. It was still spinning in circles.

  Ashkan took the initiative, speaking up after a brief silence. "Yes, actually. Does the name 'Vhinrud' ring any bells? He and his Inkbloods were responsible for...um, my capture. None of us are familiar with him."

  I waited anxiously for a reply. The Elders all fell silent, as they often seemed to. I couldn't blame them. Vhinrud seemed to be a total hermit. An elusive and secretive figure. A mystery. We had so little to go off of, I had no idea how we'd be able to find him and learn about his motivations. Or if we'd ever see him again.

  "I apologize for mine uncertainty, but we knowest nothing of thine enemy," an Elder answered finally. "Our knowledge of the modern world is but a morsel. Our purview hath always been solely for matters of the gods, and those within this temple. I regret mine own inability to beest of use to thee."

  "It's all right. We don't expect you to know everything." Ashkan frowned, but nodded.

  I sat up straighter on my pillow. "What about Prince Lanzeroth? Did you ever meet him? Some of his biographies claim he had ties to dark magic, and may have even helped invent it. But others claim the exact opposite. Some sources say he was a student of light magic. Other sources say he was a scholar with no interest in the arcane. Do you know where dark magic came from, if it has no god associated with it?"

  The Elder's faces grew stern. One chimed in, "Our knowledge of Prince Lanzeroth is equally meagre. He spent much of his youth hidden in secrecy, as his life wast marked with an abundance of disease, violence, and hardships. I knoweth not what must beest said of his relationship to dark magic. But he hath certainly been one of the few mortals in history to possess such strength. For 'tis certain that dark magic wast invented by mortal hands, and no one deity hath any ownership over it."

  "The history of the abyss is shrouded in secrecy and shrouded in lies," Gavphine's Elder informed us. "It art of no god. Black magic hath been wielded by the wicked and the damned since time immemorial; thus, the birth of abyss cannot beest attributed to one single point in time. Many dark manifestations art simply absences of Gavphine's light. Its immoral spells were grown through study of the deadliest, most insidious, most self-destructive facets of mankind, and 'tis a most terrifying, cruel, and seductive force. Lanzeroth may hath learned how to channel those energies himself, through the manipulation of natural forces, rather than divine inspiration, or the manipulation of holy powers. This beareth further discussion amongst scholars. In truth, our understanding is but a fragment."

  Another elaborated, "Some consider it not an element, but an absence. 'Tis an energy born from the negation of life, light, and nature. An absence of good and happiness. 'Tis an aberration, and thus ist beyond our realm of understanding, and beyond our abilities to influence. All that ist certain ist that it art not a power granted by a divine being. It simply...is. A discipline that doth not follow the regulations of any other field. A subject derived from the amalgamation of select individuals' most horrid concepts, and most twisted desires. And thus, 'tis one of the most difficult to control."

  The other five all nodded in agreement. They all wore sombre looks as they considered the subject. The more they described it, the stranger it sounded. As I'd learned before, the majority of Emiarhia didn't consider darkness to be the presence of something unique, but rather the absence of light – Gavphine's invention. That's how they explained shadows, nighttime, and other passive manifestations of the dark. It was an element that wasn't an element. It had a certain dichotomy to it. Something that was everywhere and nowhere, gentle and hostile, benign and destructive, a living thing and an object of science. A phenomenon with no definition. A paradox. I felt even more guilty for wielding it now.

  Shaye raised her hand and asked, "Were you present for the creation of this realm, Adares? Many students, including myself, find it odd that there are seven realms in Emiarhia, yet six gods and six types of magic. Some people –" She shot Ashkan a dirty look, "– argue that Adares could represent the 'seventh' element, dark. But we are taught in school that Adares was created for you six to live in peace and impartiality to the other realms. Is that not the case?"

  "Indeed, we bore witness to its inception," an Elder said.

  "It has been many, many centuries... Our recollections art not perfectly intact. However, Adares beareth no affinity towards black magic. Thy studies art true. We hath merely made residence here for our own purposes."

  "Well-nigh three decades after Emiarhia wast founded, all six gods expressed an interest in crafting a seventh, novel realm for us to reside, as a display of gratitude for our continued devotion and assistance. They were not able to accomplish this, however, for the creation of an entire realm art no simple feat. 'Twould take more power than they held, for King Hreiuk possessed the holy sceptre, which controlled them enough that they couldst not simply do as they wished, however they wished."

  "Consequently, the gods notified us that they intended to request the King's aid. Before the following winter, Adares wast formed with King Hreiuk's command and their divine energies, using the sceptre. We haveth been settled here since. A sacred, neutral zone that wouldst grant peace from mortals, the elements, war, and discord. 'Tis a realm most dark, cold, and gentle. As our name implies, we hath remained impartial, bestowing advice and guidance to all those who seek us. We mayest not depart this country unless our gods beseech it, but 'tis of no importance, as we hath never needed to. 'Tis not our role. We hath simply watched as time hath passed, as we art meant to. This wast, after all, their will."

  A bitterness tinged my tongue. They'd never left this place because the gods forbid them to. They'd never explored Emiarhia themselves. Never experienced tropical forests, crashing seas, or warm sands. I felt sorry for them, being forced to sit back and watch as the other realms grew and flourished and developed and changed, while they sat still, isolated, surrounded by snow and mountains as far as the eye could see...for over six hundred years. How depressing it must've been. But I had a feeling they'd disagree.

  The Elders didn't look the least bit bothered as they relayed the tale. They looked at ease. Satisfied, even. Content, with their own lives, their own purpose. They weren't a family of restless explorers, eager to venture into the unknown. They were a group of teachers, a family of guidance and serenity. It must've been enough for them, living that way, never stepping foot beyond their realm, and never looking back. They must've felt fulfilled, knowing the gods would return eventually, and that their time would come to help them once more, someday.

  As I mulled over the fact that Gavphine was still able to deliver an incredibly rare message to her Elder, however frail, I started wondering if the gods were ever known to somehow communicate with regular people as well. Ever since the chase with Ashkan's shadow on the rooftops, I'd thought a lot about how strangely similar it all was to the nightmare I'd had back in November, on the train, after we'd recovered the light gemstone. The way I felt like I could move quickly, but the darkness still felt slow and heavy, and my heart was beating like it was trying to rip its way out of my ribcage... The dream was a blur. I had only vague memories. But the sensation had seemed so real. What did it mean? Could the gods communicate through dreams as well, or did I have an overactive imagination?

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  The Elder sitting closest to me had his head slightly tilted, looking at me, as if he'd been watching my thoughts as they floated past. "Anything else, Your Luminary?"

  I paused to consider. "There is...one more thing."

  He smiled. "What beeth thy question?"

  "About two months ago, after the light gem was retrieved from Shialumura, I had a somewhat...vivid nightmare during the train ride home. Holding the stone drained my energy to the point where I fainted. While I was asleep, I dreamt of chasing a faceless, dark figure across cityscape rooftops...much like I did when I was pursuing Ashkan's shadow." My face heated up a little, but I was too caught up in the moment to feel self-conscious. "The event was strikingly similar to the dream. Almost a perfect image. In my nightmare, I fell to my death, so... I can't help but wonder if the imposter would've succeeded had I not seen the dream. In the moment, I recalled the vision, and used it as a way to help save myself. I knew what was coming. The feeling of it...was just too similar. But...I can't tell if that was simply my subconsciousness playing a prank, or a wild coincidence, or...something else."

  I looked back up at the Elder's faces, a bit ashamed to ask such a weird question, but they only seemed to be intrigued. A thoughtful, serene look crossed the man's eyes, and he placed a hand to his chin, taking in the words.

  "Your suspicions art most valid. The gods art known to hath manifested their energies into visions that they deem necessary to show mortal minds. It hast been recorded for centuries that they hath graced us with messages through a multitude of means, and their influence is not restricted to the messages we Elders receiveth. Some believe that holy intervention can extend beyond our minds and reach our bodies; some even argue that divine powers art able to manifest autonomously. 'Tis the nature of the gods that they art far more powerful than our limited understanding can explain."

  My mouth fell open in awe. The words slowly began to register, but I could only gape in astonishment. Had a god somehow been behind my nightmare? My dream that practically predicted my future? The one that helped kept me alive? I was utterly speechless. Ashkan had his eyebrows raised high on his forehead as he glanced over at me. I shrugged.

  The Elders all looked around at one another for a moment. One spoke up with, "The divine are able to exert influence over many things beyond their immediate reach. Ist thy dream perhaps an attempt from the divine to ensure thy safety? The gods may hath delivered unto thy subconscious an image of an alternative fate that could hath befallen thee. This theory hath been presented for many years. Mayhap thy birthmark provides a direct line of connection with the gods' energy... Mayhap they hath simply sought to assist thee, through their own ways."

  I slowly shook my head in amazement. I turned to Ashkan and Shaye. "Have either of you ever experienced anything similar?"

  Shaye looked stunned. "No, I can't say that I have."

  "Neither can I," Ashkan answered. "But now I can't stop thinking about how strange it is that your dream actually predicted that. That's mad."

  "Indeed," the Elders all replied with sage nods.

  I looked back at the six. "That's all I have, thank you."

  They all bowed their heads in return.

  "I pray our insight hast proven useful to thee," one told me. "The knowledge that hath been bestowed unto thee is both a burden and a privilege. Doth not despair. The gods art aware of the turmoil thou face. They shall assist thee. Be thou confident of thy strength and of thy convictions. And knowest that our guidance beeth yours to beseech at any time. Bless ye, Luminaries of Emiarhia. May thy solemn journey beest rife with glory and conquest."

  The four of us stood up, heads bowed low in reverence, before we silently left the temple. I felt simultaneously energized and exhausted. Ready to take on the world, while at the same time wishing I could spend the next week sleeping. The snow crunched beneath our feet. The heavy smell of incense was replaced by the frigid air. The weight on my shoulders seemed to lighten.

  So I did know how to cast dark magic, and that was something someone would have to...talk to Miss Lucera about... But the three of us were impervious to its contamination. I felt safer. A bit more reassured that we'd make it through this in one piece. And that I would still be able to perform the task assigned to me.

  Shaye nudged Ashkan as we walked, giving him a curious look. "So, do you believe in the gods now? How else can you explain our birthmarks?"

  He rolled his eyes, but smiled. "I never said they weren't real. I was just saying that we should be able to use logic to solve some problems, not just blind faith. And I still stand by that. I'd very much like to see them with my own eyes."

  "Oh, sure, now you're curious. But before, you had no interest whatsoever."

  "That's not true. I was always interested to some degree."

  "Yet it took you ages to memorize their symbols in school."

  "It took all of us that long!"

  "Not me!"

  "Always the overachiever."

  I laughed quietly at their squabbling. Shaye's faith was unshakable, and Ashkan's was tentative, at best. Their opposing opinions always made for good conversation. The sun hung high above the mountains, and a cool breeze brushed past, blowing hair into my eyes. I pulled my coat tighter around myself. My nose was starting to go numb. The three of us continued down the path, toward the stables. I'd had enough of the snow and cold, and was ready to head home.

  As I was tacking up Taphira, Shaye approached me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

  "Brielle, I... I owe you an immense apology," she admitted. Her eyes were glassy, and her tone was remorseful. "I'm very sorry for how I acted earlier, about the tomes. I should've been more considerate of your feelings. It was an inappropriate way to handle the situation. I am sorry."

  I sighed and gave her a small smile. "I'm not angry. You were stressed and worried. I understand. It's okay."

  She clasped her hands together, eyes glued to the floor. "No, it isn't. It's not okay to treat someone I care about that way. Especially you. You've done nothing but support me, and I should've went about it differently. It was just... On Emiarhia, we're taught that dark magic is the worst thing on the planet. It's ingrained into us from birth. It's simply in my religious upbringing to…fear darkness. Hence why the idea of you involved in it is so terribly frightening. I didn't want to lose you. I still don't. You're...like a sister to me." She took a shaky breath.

  My heart wrenched a little. "Shaye... It's okay. You had a great point. I was scared too."

  She sniffled and nodded. "I know, but... It was wrong of me to alienate you like that. And I'm so sorry."

  I opened my arms, and she hugged me, burying her face into my shoulder.

  I squeezed her a little. "We're going to figure this out, okay? It's going to be all right. I promise. We got some good news today. We can work with this."

  She nodded again and released the embrace. I brushed a tear off her cheek and gave her a smile.

  "You're like a sister to me, too," I told her. "So, no more tears. Got it? Or else I'll start crying."

  She chuckled. "Right. Right, you're right."

  "Okay. Let's go home," I laughed.

  She sniffled again, then went back to her pegasi, Winphiy. Ashkan gave me a look as he finished fastening Pyracos' bridle.

  "Everything good?" he asked.

  "All's forgiven," I confirmed.

  "Ah, good." He paused and leaned closer. "You do know she's still terrified, though, right?"

  "I do. So am I."

  "We're all a bit rattled."

  "Mhm. And we're all going to get through it."

  He offered a grin. "That, we are."

  Pyracos chimed in voice reverberating in our skulls, "Are we quite done here? There's a very comfortable stable waiting for me at home, with lots of hay and fruit and–"

  Ashkan patted the creature's neck. "Yes, yes, we're going now."

  The four of us headed off into the sky, the Elders' words still ringing in my ears. I hoped they were right about the gods intervening to ensure our success. If they really had sent me that dream, then maybe... Maybe we did stand a chance. Maybe it wasn't as impossible as we thought.

  After returning our pegasi to the royal stables, Kadia pulled me aside.

  "I must inform the royal council about the results of our investigation," she told me. "Would you like to accompany me?"

  I frowned. "Dumb question, I'm sure, but why do they need to know about things if we're immune to corruption? What purpose will it serve?"

  She heaved a sigh. "All classified documents and discoveries must be submitted and approved by the highest power, His Majesty. If I do not file this report, they could have me kicked out of the corps or even throw me in a cell for withholding information. In any case, he will want to hear the good news. You three are now much more valuable assets than you already were, and they will want to ensure that their resources are utilized wisely."

  She meant they'd try to keep us closer and put us to work more. Fantastic.

  "I see," I muttered. "Guess I'm due for a visit."

  "Correct. Come along, now."

  She spun on her heel and strode off, taking long, confident steps. I said goodbye to Ashkan and Shaye before following. Four armoured guards trailed behind them.

  The odd maid or butler would give a polite bow of their heads as they passed by us. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and focused on looking somewhat presentable. Our footsteps clicked down the side corridor. It was all a familiar routine. No more awkward silences or stammering nerves in this palace. But I did begin to wonder if I was ever going to come here and not have to worry about anything. Was that too much to ask?

  "How do we know if the King is even here?" I asked, casually glancing at a large tapestry mounted on the wall. It was a breathtaking rendition of an Winithinian queen before battle, sporting a bow and a fierce expression. "He travels often, or so I've been told."

  "His itinerary is usually kept under lock and key," Kadia replied. "But he recently returned from a two-week business trip in Skarhali, Hezura. And His Majesty always holds court every other Saturday afternoon. He's likely meeting with his advisors right now. If we are quick, we may get there before he moves on to other pressing matters. I already took it upon myself to request an audience ahead of time – after I sent my letter to the Elders, to be precise."

  I raised my eyebrows. "He holds court? To the public?"

  "Indeed. The King and Queen believe in hearing the people's opinions and advocating their needs. Once a fortnight, he spends three hours in his throne room, accepting summons from various citizens, aristocrats, nobles, workers, and leaders within the realm. They bring forth their problems and conflicts, and he presides over them in a fair and reasonable manner. It gives them a chance to be heard, and him a glimpse into the world of the common people."

  I blinked. Well, I suppose not all nobles were so self-absorbed. I recoiled at the thought of Duke Efren or Count Taviel running a country.

  We'd entered an archway lit by a chandelier of pale blue crystals. Two sets of double doors were on either side of us, tall and wooden and polished to perfection, with silver gilding on the edges. Kadia opened one of the doors and motioned for me to enter before she stepped in after me.

  This room wasn't too different from the main throne room. Marble floors, tall columns, intricate tapestries and portraits, silver-trimmed everything. Huge windows let the afternoon light fill the area. There was a little fireplace to the left of a set of wide stone steps leading up to two fancy thrones – modest in size, but still ornate, obviously. A single, sapphire banner hung across the back, bearing the royal symbol. King Typhis and Queen Valanche sat upright in the seats, holding serious, contemplative expressions. At least a dozen or so nobles stood at the front of the room, addressing the royals about something. A couple servants in navy uniforms milled about.

  The Queen leaned in to listen as the nobles continued, eyes flicking across them in thought. The King had his fingers resting against his temple. His jaw was tense. A tall woman stood directly in front of the dais, her hands gesturing as she talked. I could just make out what they were saying.

  "–have received several complaints regarding this issue, and there has been little to no progress in rectifying the problem."

  King Typhis lowered his hand. He had an air of fatigue about him, but a regal poise remained. "Have these complaints been verified, by any chance? How reliable are the sources?"

  "I believe the issues to be rather prevalent, and I have multiple first-hand accounts that verify such."

  The Queen frowned. "Their numbers have increased in recent years, but it isn't enough to warrant any extreme action. You know full well we've sent troops out to do their duty. We shall continue with the same procedure and re-evaluate at a later date. We understand your concern, and it is valid, but we will not act in haste."

  The King nodded in agreement. "The safety of our people is paramount. If anything changes, you will be the first to know."

  She pressed her lips together and gave a curt bow of the head. "As you wish."

  Queen Valanche raised her chin to speak once more, but her gaze locked on us at the back of the room, and she halted. All the nobles and guards turned to us. Kadia immediately dropped into a kneel, and I quickly followed, pressing one knee into the ground and putting my right hand over my chest. I'd gotten used to the motion at this point.

  "Apologies for the intrusion, Your Majesties," Kadia spoke. Her voice rang throughout the chamber. "I request to report a new development to the royal council. If it is a suitable time, then I await your permission to come forth."

  The King waved a hand at her. "Of course." He then glanced around at the small crowd. "Leave us."

  We stood. The nobles gave polite bows and took their leave, walking past us and through the doors. I didn't recognize any of them, save for...one. A jolt of nerves rushed through my veins. Count Taviel. My stomach did an unpleasant flip-flop when our eyes met. A tiny smirk pulled at his lips as he swept past. I just glared right back, icy fire in my gaze, daring him to make a comment. He wisely kept quiet. My eyes were burning a hole into his back until Kadia nudged my arm.

  We approached the bottom of the steps. I wondered how long this was going to take.

  "Pleasant to see you again, Captain Lowell," Queen Valanche addressed.

  Kadia bowed her head. "As you, Your Majesty." She cleared her throat and gave me a small nod.

  Oh, right. I gave another quick bow.

  The King prompted, "Report, Captain."

  Kadia folded her hands behind her back. She didn't ever waver when speaking to them, her voice level and strong. She began recounting our entire experience at the Elders' temple, the conclusions we'd reached, and our new findings.

  "What a stroke of luck..." King Typhis mused as she concluded, letting his gaze drop.

  "Indeed," Kadia agreed. "To be exempt from the dangers of dark magic will prove useful in a multitude of situations. This was an extremely crucial discovery."

  The Queen tapped a finger on her lips in thought. "As was the revelation that Brielle can wield the dark arts..." She tilted her head in my direction, tone laced with suspicion.

  My pulse quickened, but I forced myself to remain calm. Kadia looked back at me as well, briefly. She then turned her focus back to the Queen.

  "It's an alarming development," she replied. "I share your sentiments. But rest assured that she has displayed no signs of corruption or threat to anyone thus far. We will remain diligent and vigilant to any possible signs."

  "What do you make of it, Brielle?" Queen Valanche inquired.

  "Uh–" My brain struggled to form words for a second. "Well, I... I was...surprised at the results. I mean, I learned it from Miss Lucera without knowing that it was dark magic. That betrayal of trust has upset me more than the...being able to do it."

  The King glanced between Kadia and myself. "Can this Lucera be trusted?"

  She hesitated, as did I.

  "She is a decorated scholar and professor, Your Majesty," Kadia answered, "even at only twenty-six years of age. She possesses a flawless track record and impeccable reputation. Her and Headmaster Gunthren are close friends. I've worked closely with her during Brielle's training, and I find her to be trustworthy. However...the circumstances surrounding this are questionable. Perhaps her intentions weren't entirely noble in this instance. Or, perhaps someone manipulated her into this."

  King Typhis sat up straight, an air of command washing over him. "Very well. Keep a watchful eye over the situation. I will have a letter sent to the Headmaster regarding this matter. It is vital that this does not go ignored or unsupervised. There is a chance that Brielle's...phenomenon...may not be so exclusive." He folded his hands in his lap and addressed me. "Now, you are aware of the consequences of performing any dark magic, correct?"

  I gave him a nod. "Yes, sire."

  He tilted his head a little, as if searching for any lies or half-truths. "We are at the beginning stages of this war. We can ill-afford to have our forces weakened, or corrupted, by a sudden change of heart. The power you now wield must not be misused." His voice was serious, stern; almost warning.

  "I understand," I responded. "And I... I wouldn't, uhm..." I shifted on my feet.

  I wouldn't? I wouldn't use it, if given the choice? It was dark magic. Corrupting, lethal, twisted, malicious, unpredictable, volatile. I was no expert, but I knew enough about abyssal magic to understand the consequences of it. And yet, there was this nagging voice in my head, tugging at me, questioning whether or not it could be...useful. For the greater good. It could do things that other elements couldn't, at least in the same amount of time. It had the potential to win me battles. Maybe even the whole war. Or maybe it would destroy everything. I just...wasn't sure.

  But, I couldn't tell them that. It would only give them more reason to keep a closer eye on me.

  I straightened. "I have no interest in it," I finally replied, with as much honesty as I could.

  They scrutinized my words, staring me down, assessing my reaction, my body language. It felt like an eternity before the King looked away from me, snapped his fingers, and motioned to a nearby maid.

  She hurried forward and curtsied. "Your Majesty?"

  "Bring me the wristlet."

  "Yes, my liege." She disappeared through a small side door.

  A brief silence fell over the throne room. The King and Queen exchanged glances and seemed to have a small, unspoken conversation. They had the ability to read each other without ever having to voice it, to be on the exact same page at all times. It was a little unsettling to think about.

  The maid returned, carrying a blue velvet box with silver accents. She kneeled and offered it up to the King. He took the case and opened it before rising to his feet. He stepped off the dais, his boots echoing through the chamber. His pace was slow, measured. I caught myself holding my breath in anticipation as he walked toward us, his face stoic and unreadable. I clenched my jaw. He came to a stop in front of me, about a foot taller. The case clicked open.

  Inside was a cuff bracelet. Obsidian. Gleaming, glossy, black obsidian. The royal insignia was embedded into the surface with a tiny, silver inlay. It was rather simple in appearance, though clearly high quality, but no wider than two inches. It didn't look like a symbol of pride, though. It was ominous and weighed down with foreboding significance.

  The King presented it to me, lifting it out of the box. "We understand your hesitancy regarding using this newfound power, and we respect your feelings on the subject."

  My gaze flicked back and forth between his face and the piece of jewelry. "Uhm... Thank–?"

  "Therefore," he continued, "you must bear the responsibility of being compulsorily exempted from casting dark magic. If you attempt to wield any sort of abyssal art, this cuff will react accordingly. It is a simple and harmless safety measure. Should you attempt to remove it yourself, without our express permission, then we will be immediately notified and required to take additional protective measures, in accordance with the law. Do you understand?"

  Icy darts prickled down my neck. "I... I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. What is this?"

  He replied so calmly, as if it were a normal, rational course of action. "This will prevent you from performing any and all forms of black magic, whether intentional or accidental. It has been infused with a vast amount of aether, crafted with an intention of nullification. You will feel no effects, nor will anyone else around you. This is simply your insurance for yourself and our kingdom. As I said, it is a failsafe – for our sake and yours."

  I blinked. For a moment, I actually wondered if this was a very cruel joke. Weren't cuffs typically used for criminals? Prisoners? To restrain them? Now he wanted to slap one on me for something entirely out of my control? I stared, stunned and somewhat embarrassed.

  My throat tightened, and the words bubbled out without thinking. "Am I being punished?"

  King Typhis frowned. "No. No, Brielle, you misunderstand. This is for your own good. If anything happens, this will protect you. It is evidence of your strength and dedication to remaining allied to the light. You will not feel any hindrance, or pain, or pressure – unless you use dark magic. Which we would hope you refrain from doing. Above all, we only have your safety in mind. The abyss is a perilous, dangerous craft, not able to be tamed or predicted. An innocent mistake could jeopardize you, and others as well."

  The Queen added, "In truth, the only detriment to this situation would be without the cuff. Which is why we take precaution and use it."

  Don't you trust me? The words teetered on the tip of my tongue, poised and ready to be voiced, but my mouth just slowly closed. They'd made their choice. My feelings didn't matter.

  "Your wrist, please," King Typhis ordered in a tone that had the finality of an ancient law carved in stone.

  I lifted my left hand, palm up, my recent scar on full display. Part of me wondered how far I'd get if I tried to bolt from the room, dashing out of the castle altogether. But then what? Even if I'd somehow escape Nelorismel unscathed, I wouldn't have anywhere to go, and I'd still be forced to deal with it all – because it would never change the simple fact that I could use dark magic. This was just for my safety, and as much as I didn't like it, it was necessary. Wasn't it?

  I exhaled through my nose as the bracelet closed around my wrist with several clicks. My heart thrummed as I examined it. The inside was smooth and cold, and the outside polished. After a second, it flashed silver briefly as it adjusted, shrinking down so the edge pressed against my skin.

  "And...if it breaks?" I questioned.

  The King settled back into his throne. "It won't."

  "It cannot be removed, broken, melted, or otherwise rendered dysfunctional," Queen Valanche interjected. "Nothing but an incantation and a key can remove it."

  "...Right." I tugged the cuff a couple times to prove it was there to stay. "I understand, then."

  "Thank you for understanding, Brielle. I know it must feel odd," the Queen said.

  Feels like a shackle on a prisoner, actually. I just nodded.

  The King intertwined his fingers and raised his chin. "You are in a very interesting situation. We advise you to remain vigilant, but do not fret. This is all to ensure that the worst does not come to pass."

  "That said," Queen Valanche began, her voice softer, "we do consider it a blessing that you are with us, even under such unfortunate circumstances. You are doing a great service to your kingdom, though you didn't volunteer for it. We will always welcome you."

  King Typhis' mouth formed a tiny, albeit warm, smile. "Indeed. You are a brave young woman."

  Kadia reached over to hold my elbow and gave it a small, supportive squeeze.

  "Thank you, Your Majesties," I replied politely. It probably came out a little flat, but whatever.

  We bowed. Kadia tipped her head to me and gestured toward the doors. I followed. The chilling, uncomfortable weight of the cuff's presence echoed in my mind with every step. The King's words rang just as loud: You are a brave young woman.

  It was just something about that word. Not 'brave' – since cowardice wasn't an option – but 'woman'. It wasn't like I'd never been called that before. Plenty of times. But now, when so much weight and expectation rested on how old I was, I found it to be a much more annoying term of address. I was eighteen, yes, but I still felt like a kid. Like I hadn't grown into myself. It felt wrong to be on the same technical level as Kadia or Miss Lucera, or any other adult. I wasn't an adult. Yet, I was. And I couldn't understand it.

  Kadia remained silent until we exited the palace. "That wasn't so awful, was it?"

  I shot her a look. "Really? Because I wasn't exactly comforted by it."

  "Trust them," she replied coolly. "And me. We only have the best in mind for you."

  "Almost sounded like it was meant to protect them from me."

  Her gaze softened. "No. Just to protect you. Sometimes, the veil between magic and the user is thin. We must ensure that wielders are aboveboard. That their minds and souls remain intact. Since we can no longer be certain that everyone assisting you can be fully trusted, we must take extra measures. In case you are once again manipulated into casting dark spells."

  I didn't respond. Kadia was right.

  "Think nothing of it," she assured me. "Unless you decide to go traipsing in the abyss for your leisure, there should be no negative consequences. Once the war is over, and life becomes more regular, you will likely be able to have it removed. However..." Her expression turned more serious. "It would be in your best interest to hide that bracelet from view whenever possible. Wearing such an item is usually reserved for...someone of a nefarious persuasion."

  "Oh. Great." I sighed. "Everyone's going to assume I've gone bad, then."

  She gave me a sympathetic look. "Anti-dark wristlets aren't exactly symbols of virtue, I'm afraid. Be cautious with who you reveal it to. Exercise good judgement. Now, you should return home. Rest. The day has been an eventful one. I'm sure, uh... Mother and Father...are expecting you for dinner."

  I quirked an eyebrow, but it dropped into a smile. She rarely referred to them like that. "Yeah. I have a lot to tell them."

  I was relieved that the cuff didn't follow me to Earth. After a very long discussion with my parents, they both agreed that the King and Queen's decision was for the best. I didn't really know how to feel. I couldn't decide if it was a burden, or protection, or both. Or neither. The whole thing left me feeling kind of hollow. I wasn't angry, though. I didn't want to be mad at them. I just...wished things could've been different. But it was out of my control. All of it was.

  That night, I couldn't stop thinking about everything. There were too many uncertainties, too many variables. Too much at stake. And I still had a long road ahead of me. I just kept tossing and turning in my bed. So, after a while, I finally decided to seek out the only person I knew who could understand my predicament, and maybe give some answers. Someone outside of the loop. I just hoped they were in town.

  The evening streets of Winithas were quiet, peaceful. The cobblestone sidewalks were almost empty. Every few blocks, I passed by a tavern or restaurant that was open and lively. I could smell the scents of different foods wafting through the air, tempting me to go in and have a nice meal, but I kept on walking.

  The League ring on my pinky caught the light from the streetlamps as I wound through a maze of alleys and back roads, leading away from the centre of the city. A tiny pinprick of glow shone from the middle of the band, directing me like a compass towards the League's nearest headquarters. It wasn't much farther.

  I took a right turn and found myself in a familiar, secluded courtyard. I reached up towards the orange lantern hanging from the side of a building and pulled it down. My ring buzzed momentarily. The lantern extinguished, and the trap door in the ground slid open. I stepped inside before closing it behind me. White-flame torches automatically flickered to life as I walked. The narrow, curved stairwell was cold and damp. When I reached the bottom, I cracked open the wooden door as quietly as possible.

  Music and conversation hummed through the air, and a faint, smoky smell hit my nose. Some hunters turned their heads to look at me as I entered, and they either raised their drinks or waved hello. I returned the gestures. A few people were playing a card game at a nearby table. Two others were having an arm-wrestling competition. Many others stood at the bar, laughing and chatting with each other. I weaved through the crowd. Some eyes followed me, and it made me a little uncomfortable. I knew they weren't looking at me with malice, though. It was just the kind of attention that came from being somewhat notorious around the region. It wasn't long before the stares went back to their own business.

  I slipped into the alcove farthest from the main entrance and knocked on the door in front of me. "Commander?"

  "Come in!" a cheerful voice called.

  I released a deep breath before entering Perl's office. They were busy signing documents at their desk when I walked in. They sat back and pushed themselves away from their work.

  "Newest hunter, hello," they greeted me with a smile. "Wow. Wasn't expecting to see you!"

  I laughed quietly. "Same here. Usually, it's you doing the popping in."

  They waved dismissively and spun once in their seat. "Ah, you know how it goes. Part and parcel of the job." Perl rubbed their neck and yawned, adjusting the shoulder of their plaid vest. A quick glance at the clock revealed that the hour was getting pretty late. Far from midnight, but way past dinnertime.

  "I hope I'm not interrupting," I began.

  "Not at all. Well... Just the boring administrative stuff. Gotta read the scouting notices from south Shialumura and its neighbours, so on and so forth... They love writing to me. It's just such thrilling news. I wouldn't wish to waste any of your precious time with it," they said with a wink. "Ah! If you'll give me one moment, let me just...finish this, and..." They trailed off as they hunched over their desk and scribbled on a couple papers, quill scratching against the parchment.

  I shuffled my feet and toyed with my ring. It was weird being nervous around Perl. Especially now, since I'd been a part of their organization for a considerable while. They had been, and still were, a fantastic boss. But a strange apprehension lingered. Guilt, almost. For having to seek out advice from someone I could never mention around nearly anyone.

  My gaze fell back to the bracelet on my wrist. The shiny obsidian cuff stared back. No matter where I glanced, it was there, clinging.

  "Right, then!" Perl announced as they set down their quill. "Pardon my poor hosting etiquette. Tea? Juice? Anything else?"

  I shook my head. "No, thank you."

  "Please, sit," they insisted, gesturing to the grey armchair in front of the desk.

  I stepped over and eased into the soft cushions. Everything about their office was neat and organized, not a single item out of place. Curiosity never let me leave without wondering what purpose they all served. Especially the piles of books along the walls and the drawers filled with mysterious boxes and vials of liquid and colourful orbs. The only 'clutter' they had was a full arrangement of plants hanging from the ceiling. They had the names of each species clearly labelled.

  "Brought some amber sun lichen that I found during my last mission," Perl remarked, pointing up towards the greenery. "Nice, isn't it?"

  "It looks great," I agreed.

  They leaned back in their seat. "So... To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Missing work? Wanting to get back out there?"

  "Not exactly," I answered. "Not that I want to quit being a hunter. Because I don't. But this is something...a bit more personal."

  Their opalescent scales turned an inquisitive shade of pale violet. "Oh? Must be quite the scandal, if you want to speak to me. This sounds juicy. And? Secret cult of assassins hounding your family? Found a golden artifact sealed inside a rock by the riverside? Did you accidentally marry a snake prince and spawn a demonic baby? I'm at the edge of my seat here!"

  The absurdity of the queries made me burst out laughing. "What? No!"

  Perl smoothed out their hair and clasped their hands, readying themself. "Okay. What is it? Something to do with the prophecy, or...? Your assignment is coming along all right, I hope."

  "It is. I've just been told a lot today. Lots of new information," I clarified. "A mountain of stuff to think about. It's...not the kind of information that should be public."

  Perl nodded. "Don't worry. If I can keep an entire syndicate underground, a confidential conversation is a simple request to entertain. I can appreciate a good secret or two." They crossed one leg over the other, their knee-high boots gleaming.

  For what felt like the tenth time that day, I explained everything: everything about Ash's kidnapping, my research into dark magic, me unintentionally learning it from my tutor, the immunity-granting power of my birthmark, and the new bracelet gracing my wrist. Perl just listened, their expression neutral, yet understanding. They never interrupted me or questioned anything. Just absorbed the information. By the time I finished, a tiny sigh escaped my mouth. I hoped for a minute that saying it all aloud would lift a weight off me.

  "Tch. Well." They stared thoughtfully at the obsidian cuff, their scales soft blue. "That is a lot. Dark magic being forced upon you? Must've been dreadful to discover. Although, you and Deadbolt being shielded from its infection is a lovely stroke of luck. A good sign, yes? I'm glad. That will make your work as hunters much less dangerous. But I'm sorry Typhis and Valanche took such a firm stance. No trust these days..."

  I rubbed my wrist. "I can understand why they had to...with everything that's been going on. All I can do is hope they're right."

  "With that considered," Perl added gently, "you're proving yourself more than worthy, my friend."

  I gave them a small smile in response. "Thanks. But that's not really what I wanted to talk to you about, since nobody can do anything about it... Um, I was curious if you knew anything about Vhinrud and his Inkbloods. I mean, the monster siphoned away some of Ashkan's– Sorry, Deadbolt's life energy while he was imprisoned. The books I read told me that was dark magic. So, do you think that's how people are transformed into Inkbloods?"

  They blinked their shimmering eyes. "Oh, no. No, no, no. Siphoning won't do that. It's their tattoos. Very advanced, very concentrated glyphs, to be precise. Even after all these years, I'm still not quite sure how it's done. That kind of curse isn't anything I'm familiar with. It's an incredibly potent, intense kind of incantation. Steals the person's soul and mind...trapping it forever...forced to reawaken within an hour or so, over and over, unless the mark gets split. Inkbloods have sported those stamps for as long as the gang's existed, I believe, so...it must be an ancient spell. One that's been passed down from leader to leader." Their lips twisted in thought. "As for Vhinrud, I wish I'd become aware of his existence way sooner. Would've spared a lot of people unnecessary suffering. Unfortunately, that name's not one I've ever been familiar with. I assume you tried searching for anything relating to him?"

  "Not extensively. Didn't really have much to go off of. But his name didn't come up anywhere I looked."

  "Hm. I'll see if the League's archives can shed light on that bastard. Although Inkblood leaders are known to stay strictly anonymous..."

  We fell silent for a moment. Perl grabbed a miniature hourglass off the desk, set it upright, and fidgeted with the polished frame. With each ticking second, I watched the blue-grey sands travel down from one end, gathering together in a tiny heap at the bottom. They stared pensively at it, and when it emptied, they reversed it, and continued staring at it again. The whole thing ran through once more before they snapped out of their concentration.

  "Sorry," they apologized. "Silly things, hourglasses. Aren't they? Finite representations of an infinite phenomenon. I can't stop turning them, then watching how quickly time goes by as the sand filters down."

  "A bit of an empty feeling when the last grains drop through the other side, huh?" I half-joked.

  They chuckled, and their scales coloured a warm pink. "You know, that's precisely it. It runs out, and it seems so...anticlimactic; over. Like such a dead end. Like there's nothing left to do, nowhere left to go. Until you turn it over and realize it's a fresh, untouched moment. Full of potential. And time marches on. But space – the frame – stays put, and… And it just… Oh, you must think I'm utterly daft, rambling on like this."

  I shook my head. "The flow of time isn't something a lot of people are too curious about, until it's almost all used up."

  Perl closed their eyes and smiled to themself. "Heh. Too true. I think of it as more of a reminder, if anything. It helps me keep things in perspective, keep everything from crumbling away when the last drop falls. If there were no refill, no chance to start over, well, then perhaps we would all appreciate what we have a lot more. Then again, on the other hand...perhaps we'd appreciate nothing." They opened their eyes. "In that vein, speaking of appreciating what we have, I'm glad you told me all this, Grey."

  I smiled. "Me too."

  "I can see it makes you uneasy. You're worried something might happen that causes you to betray the kingdom, and all of the world's trust. The League's trust. The King's trust. The trust of your allies. Nevermind trying to maintain it, but facing the burden of almost single-handedly making your friends abandon you."

  "You can say the thought's crossed my mind." I tapped my fingers against the armrest. My smile faded. "And I feel like, maybe, I should feel remorse for being...the way I am. For some reason. But I don't."

  "Because you are able to practice forbidden magic without consequence."

  "...Yeah."

  Perl hummed in response. They swivelled around in their chair, thinking to themself. Their expression was composed, unbothered, as if my predicament was no different from the day-to-day responsibilities that required their constant attention. "When was the last time you used that magic, just to know? How did it feel?"

  "It was when I helped rescue Ash– Deadbolt," I responded without delay. "Something shifted in my mind. Just for the duration of the fight. It was like something came loose. I don't know how to describe it... I can't control it like I'm supposed to. It doesn't act like any other element. Every time I use it, it feels like I'm robbing myself of something. And I don't know how to negate that. It's like... It's like when I cast a dark spell, I lose a tiny shard of myself. And each time I do it, it feels like it's costing me something. I don't know what, but... But it's not like how it should be."

  Their tone remained casual. "It drains you?"

  I tilted my head from side to side in a 'not exactly' kind of motion. "It's taxing, it is. It's not easy to cast. It takes energy just like all magic. But... There's something else there too. Like I get a small glimpse of something."

  "Into what, my friend?"

  "That's the tricky part. I can never tell."

  They drummed their fingers together, taking in that information. "Does it hurt?"

  "No, not really." I bit my lip. "There's no physical pain. But there is this...coldness. Heaviness. And a distinct discomfort. It feels like the pain is missing. Like it should be there, but it's not. Where all your nerves are spazzing out, and there's an alarm going off in your head, and you kind of want to move or squirm around to make the feeling subside a little. But there's no actual...pain. Does that make sense?"

  "Fascinatingly so," they remarked. "Could be your body reacting to the unfamiliarity. The anomaly. The shock of the abnormal. The rejection of its corruption, perhaps. Who knows? Your system works just fine, good hunter. I wouldn't worry about that."

  I let out a sigh, slightly relieved. "Thanks."

  Perl took the hourglass off their desk again, turned it over, and watched all the sand trickled into its new pile. This time, they studied it with a different expression. "Imagine turning the glass too many times. Or too little times. If it weren't in constant motion, if it were just left alone on its side forever... Well... There's no journey. No journey, no path, no progress. Just stasis. Just an in-between place. Imagine having to stay in that grey area for eternity."

  "You'd have to learn to find a way forward," I said.

  They quirked an eyebrow at me and smiled knowingly. "That you would. Such is the duality of the hourglass, really. No motion means no progress. Time is running out, sure, but without movement... Nothing good can happen."

  I couldn't think of a reply to that.

  Perl set the trinket down and leaned back, giving me their full attention. "By the way, I'm giving you and Deadbolt a well-deserved break from missions for a while. If I can help it, of course. Not that the previous calls haven't been for good reasons, but, you two need to catch a break. Honestly, my sincere apologies if I wasn't doing my part in helping either of you properly adjust; you did leap into matters sooner than I expected. I'll try to bring your work schedules down to something a little easier to juggle. Y'know, if the Inkbloods and Rotted allow for it."

  My eyes widened slightly. "That's more than appreciated, Perl. Thanks."

  "Don't mention it. You two need your rest. Especially now. You deserve it." Their scales blended from light violet to steel blue to a muted, ocean green.

  "Thank you," I repeated. "We're really grateful for your support. For everything you've done for us."

  They smiled. "My pleasure. Should I worry? Now that you two have had a taste of adventuring? Looking to go run off and discover the mysteries of the hidden parts of the world?"

  A chuckle escaped my mouth. "We'll see. I'd consider the offer. Ashkan'd be all for it."

  They beamed. "Oh, well, if that's the case, I'll keep you two in mind. Always plenty of work to be done."

  We shared a laugh. The air around us felt light again, friendly, easy.

  "I'll let you get back to business now. It was nice seeing you again," I said, rising from my seat.

  "As to you," they replied. "I'm honoured that you trust me enough to confide in me with such important, sensitive things. If I've said so once, I've said it a thousand times: It's not right to keep everything tucked away and hidden forever. And I'm always ready to lend an ear. Always! Well, I guess when I'm not busy with mountains of paperwork, or trips across the continent, or dealing with grumpy beasts that keep trying to eat me. But you get the gist."

  I laughed. "Much appreciated."

  "Say hi to Deadbolt for me!" they said as I headed to the door. "I know I've said it already, but really. So sorry about his circumstances. Hopefully that can be remedied. Right? I'm optimistic. Send him my regards!"

  "Will do. See you around," I said with a wave, and disappeared out of their office.

  It was almost midnight on Earth when I returned. Clouds smothered the moon and stars, casting silvery rays of light into my bedroom through the skylight. I changed into my pyjamas, washed my face, and brushed my teeth before flopping onto my bed. Every part of me felt exhausted. My brain, most of all. However, it felt relieved at the same time. Perl's reassurance did a lot to alleviate my worries, even if certain issues remained unresolved. Having confided in them felt like a weight was lifted from my shoulders. Like the sand had reached the end of the hourglass frame, and got reset without incident. A new chapter. A new path. A new chance at progress.

  I don't know what brought the thought to my mind, but I found myself wondering if Prince Lanzeroth had ever felt the way I was feeling. Like he had a power that others didn't know about, or didn't understand. Like he had a secret to keep. He probably had armies waiting on him, not to mention an entire kingdom reliant on his future capabilities. He did sound like quite the outcast, now that I thought about it. Something I could certainly relate to. Would he have understood the kind of pressure I was under, if he was alive today? Despite everything, he never shied away from carving his own path. Even when severely ill. Even when the gods themselves condemned his actions. ...Maybe they had good reason to. I didn't know. Regardless, the words 'kindred spirit' resonated with me for whatever reason. He helped revolutionize the society of his day. He didn't let his illness stop him from reaching for the stars, or at the very least, do whatever he could to hold them in his hands for a brief moment in time.

  With a stretch and a yawn, I rolled over and grabbed my phone from my nightstand. The screen lit up, notifications flooding in. My body immediately tensed. Six text messages and two missed calls from Spencer. All sent throughout the day.

  12:59 p.m.: Hey weirdo what r u up to. Joel's buying us slushies for tonight

  1:41 p.m.: Still getting ready? Hope you didn't die aaaa

  2:13 p.m.: Leavin soon. Want me to pick u up??

  2:56 p.m.: Text me when ur on the way pls

  3:28 p.m.: You missed the opening :((( Dude where the hell r u. Everything ok?

  6:09 p.m.: Gallery's over. Call me or something.

  Fuck, I forgot about Spencer's art thing at school! Guilt flooded my chest, my face burning hot as I read each message. My thumbs lingered over the screen as I thought of an excuse. I'd meticulously arranged everything out so I could make it. I'd only planned to have regular training in the morning. But with the day's developments, the visit to the Elders, the meeting with the King, and the time difference in Emiarhia, it got knocked to the wayside completely. Wiped from my mind entirely. By accident, of course, but inexcusable nonetheless.

  I couldn't figure out what to text back. Every word I tried to write sounded like an empty lie – because they were. How do you explain to your best friend that you missed her very first public art exhibition because you were off in a distant universe, being summoned to ancient temples and royal halls in order to gain insight into the dark magic that's supposedly dormant within you? That you missed it because that planet was threatening to implode on itself? Because on the other side of the cosmos, you've been roped into becoming a shining knight for a world you didn't even know existed last year?

  Explanations flitted through my brain. Family emergency. Sick and sleeping for twenty-one hours. Impromptu trip out of town. Dropped my phone in the tub. Buried alive in my garden. Car flipped into the ocean. Carried to the underworld by pixies and couldn't get home. Anything. Literally anything other than the truth. And it hurt that I couldn't share it, regardless of how insane it sounded. I wasn't just some ordinary human. And it sucked.

  I forced myself to type out a message, erased it, rewrote it, and pressed send before I could second-guess myself any further.

  11:52 p.m.: I'm so so sorry Spence, something came up, I had a last-minute emergency that took me away. I didn't mean to miss the gallery. I'm really really sorry I let you down.

  She texted back within five minutes.

  11:57 p.m.: Was hoping you'd respect me enough to give me an actual explanation but ok.