"You were human, weren't you?" I asked the four-armed thing as it took the tray from my bed. It paused for a moment. It must've heard my words, but it had no mouth with which to speak. The blank skin over its face creased and wrinkled, and its hideous frame shuddered and stiffened. I looked closer. It was probably a woman at some point. Scars and stitches ran along its entire body, even its second set of arms seemed to have been stitched under the real pair.

Just as it seemed as though it was about to convulse, the four-armed monster froze and resumed its duties, ignoring me entirely. I watched it leave. And my eyes narrowed. It had been human at some point. I shuddered at the thought.

"Yes, it was human at some point." A patient, who'd lain on the bed that was closest to mine, answered my question. I hadn't paid attention to him before. I hadn't even known there was anyone else in here with me. Beside me was another kid, who was probably around the same age as I was. He was thin and pale, and his amber eyes seemed exhausted beyond anything. And yet, he wore – what I assumed to be – the Academy's uniform, a matte jet-black robe and a maroon undershirt that looked almost akin to a German Soldier's jacket, just without the belts and badges. He wasn't a Filipino, like I was, but he definitely wasn't a European, either.

The kid smiled at me. His eyes glimmered. "It's an advanced Caro-Servus; they're very difficult to create. It's harder to make, because the subjects need to be alive during the operation, and so you're forced to have to keep them alive or you'd end up with a mere Caro-Pupa, which isn't as useful. It's even harder for newbies, like you, because most of them can't stand all the screaming."

"A Caro-Servus is actually ingenious; the magic that powers it was designed so that it looped and powered itself. See, a Caro-Servus is not in control of its actions; it can only follow what its master commands. Despite that, its mind is left mostly intact, which means it gets to perceive anything and everything that happens to it, without being able to do anything. The horror and the pain of such an existence is what fuels the magic that holds its body together, which means – unlike a Caro-Pupa – it won't fall apart after a few months."

I froze. What?

His words were horrific. I glanced at the four-armed monsters that moved around us, carrying trays of food or strange instruments. What a horrible existence it must be. Death was preferable. Heck, getting captured, tortured, and executed by the Japs seemed an almost merciful alternative.

I could only nod at his words.

"You're a Neophyte, yeah?" He continued, before extending his hand towards me. He wore a black glove that covered his fingers. "The name's Yazzie Mato; it's nice to meet you."

I reached for his hand, grasped, and shook it firmly. I'd been hit way too many times, because of a weak handshake. His grip was stronger than it had any right being. His hand wasn't even larger than mine. I swallowed the lump in my throat. "My name's Uriel. How'd you end up here?"

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "I got into a duel and won, but then I ran out of juice and collapsed. Luckily, one of my friends brought me here, before someone killed me while I was down."

"What?"

"Oh, right, I should probably warn you about a few of the unwritten rules in this school," Mato said, sighing wistfully as he leaned back into his bed. He held up three fingers and spoke, "The first rule is that you can kill anyone, even teachers; in fact, you are encouraged to try and kill your teachers, because that's how you move up the ladder – so to speak. Anything goes, really; poison, ambush, trickery, and anything you can think of. Of course, there is an exception to the first rule; nobody is allowed to kill Neophytes, except other Neophytes. Anyone who breaks this rule dies or gets turned into one of them."

He vaguely gestured at the Caro-Servi. "The second unwritten rule is that you don't run to the guards and teachers to get them to defend you. The guards are there to keep intruders out. And the teachers are there to teach you how to fight and kill. If you run to them, you'll die."

"The third rule," Mato leaned back and closed his eyes. "Trust no one. This, what happened just now, was a one-time thing; the next time we meet, it'll likely be as enemies. Trust no one. Everyone here, maybe excluding the other Neophytes, is going to try and kill you at some point."

How could anyone talk so callously? This boy couldn't have been older than me and yet he spoke as though he'd seen death on more than a daily basis. I've seen corpses before. I've seen people scream their last, just before they were executed out on the streets by Japanese soldiers; I was no stranger to death. And yet I hadn't grown cold to it, either. The only life I ever took was not by my own will. I did not want to kill that girl. She did nothing to me. And yet I killed her all the same – the wounds on my knuckles were still fresh.

It stung whenever I looked at it. It was a reminder of what I'd done – a reminder of the sin that would never be washed away.

"How old are you?"

Mato paused for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing as though he was deep in thought. And then, he simply shrugged. "I was… probably ten when I was taken from my clan. I'm probably twelve now; but, I am honestly unsure. Time runs differently here than it does in the human world. At times, it is faster or slower, depending on thousands of factors that're impossible to keep track."

"Twelve…." I repeated absently. I wasn't sure if I should be horrified or saddened, unsure if I should feel pity or fear. And yet, as he sat there, relaxed, I couldn't bring myself to see him as a villain or a monster. And so, I leaned back onto my pillow and closed my eyes. "I'm… eleven… I think."

"Eleven, huh? You're a bit older than most Neophytes tend to be, but – in here – age means little. Hell, I've seen a ten year-old slice open a senior student's guts in the lobby. It was kind of funny, really; no one expected it."

Several footsteps suddenly came barging in. I flinched, but quickly reminded myself that these weren't Japanese soldiers. There were no cries or shouts in some foreign language that I barely understood. There were only the footsteps. I noted the same hooded figures from before, eyes glowing crimson.

"This is your final lesson from me," Mato said, sitting up from his bed. He turned to me. And his eyes burned like goals in the night. "Consider it a parting gift, if you will."

His body shimmered. Flakes of ember light peeled off of him, one by one, like a wooden house set aflame, until there was nothing left. Mato wasn't there anymore. And, judging from the lack of creases on his bed, it seemed as though he never was. The whole thing took less than a second. And then, I felt a blade on my neck. Mato was behind me. I froze and gulped. "Your final lesson is thus: trust no one, but always trust yourself. Trust in your gut, your instincts; it will keep you alive. This Academy is full of illusions, tricks, and lies; the weak of will and mind will die, even if no one's actively trying to kill them. You are strong; I can tell, but that won't be enough. So, heed my words, Neophyte. Trust nothing and no one, but yourself."

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The blade on my neck lifted. I turned. But Mato was nowhere to be found. There were only tiny flakes of burning dust where he should've been.

How did he do that? Was he ever even here?

Magic… I told myself. I did not want to be here. The only thing I wanted was to live. Magic was the key. Power was the key. To survive, I needed to learn all there is about magic.

The hooded figures in black quickly surrounded my bed. For a moment, I wondered if they were akin to the Caro-Servi, but quickly set aside such thoughts. They were different. Likely, they were fully-trained magicians, who served under that Lord Vaago.

"We will take you to Lord Vaago for the orientation, Neophyte; you will follow us."

I closed my eyes and sighed. My shoulders slumped. I will survive, no matter what.

"Do I have a choice?"

----------------------------------------

I was promptly and hurriedly led into a massive auditorium with dark green walls. Massive black braziers burned with vivid green fires in the sides, setting the blackness alight. Screaming faces looked down from the ceiling. There was massively tall stage on one end, and rows and rows of chairs at its front. I was led to one of these chairs and forced down. It was made of some type of wood and, despite everything, was actually quite comfortable. I leaned back and slumped down.

The only other person in the auditorium was Lord Vaago himself, who glanced at me with an amused look on his face. He stood upon the stage, hands held firmly behind me; his chin was held high, like a powerful officer in the military. "Have you heard of the latest news of your home? It's always prudent to learn the comings and goings of the human world whenever possible."

"No," I gulped. Why'd he bring this up? "I haven't… my lord."

"Douglas MacArthur's leading a grand assault to retake the Philippines; I didn't think he had the balls." Vaago chuckled. "And the Nazi's are getting pushed back all the way to Berlin. As is, the war might just end in a year or so."

"I…." I didn't care. I never cared about the war. Sure, it happened and my life was ruined because of it. But it had always been such a distant thing. Day by day, for the last seven or so years, all I've had to worry about was whether or not I'd get to eat. I was afraid of the Japs, but the greater war was far out of my reach. "That's… good news, my lord….?"

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" He said, smiling. "The human world's become so interesting over the last century. Such wondrous industries they've created! And all without the aid of magic; humans truly are interesting creatures."

I could only nod. "Yes… my lord."

"Oh, don't be so formal, Uriel." He waved his hand. And the air itself seemed to shudder. "I care very little about formalities and titles. You may refer to me, simply, as "sir" – as you would your teachers in the world above. For that is what I am – a teacher."

He was baiting me. This was a trick. To what point and purpose, I did not know, but it had to be a trick of some kind. I couldn't trust him. I could only trust what I knew and what I perceived.

And I knew that almost every single person in this place was more accustomed to death than most soldiers probably were. They reveled in it. Mato did not seem conflicted when he spoke of death and murder.

Vaago huffed and chuckled once more. "Your thoughts are interesting, Neophyte."

Suddenly, several other kids were led inside and forced onto their seats as I was. They were quiet and sullen, dark bags underneath their eyes. The hooded figures stood back and gathered near the blazing green-fire braziers. And then, Vaago spoke to all of us.

"There is no escape for any of you. So, get such thoughts out of your head while you still can. But, if you are interested in trying, then allow me to illuminate your thoughts: you don't know where you are or how you came to be here. The Shadow Academy of San Jose is a maze to those who do not know of its interior. Make a wrong turn and you might just end up lodged in the jaws of a flesh-eating beast or worse." I listened attentively as Vaago spoke down to us. There were at least ten others with me – other survivors from my batch and other batches. Their faces were grim and their eyes dark. But they listened, like I did, because listening meant we might just survive another day in this place.

Listening meant knowledge. Knowledge was power. And power was the key to survival. And, I would survive as I'd done so before. I would live. I wasn't about to die in this place.

The only difference now was that I'd be stuck dealing with murderous mages, instead of murderous Japanese Soldiers.

Huh, I wasn't quite sure if I'd consider it a welcome change. I wasn't even sure if there was a real fundamental difference between them. At the very least, I'd be learning from the mages. Hah, mages… I never thought I'd ever use that word to describe actual mages. I never thought I'd ever believe magic was real… and that it's a tool I'm capable of using.

"If you do somehow make your way out of the Academy, then – congratulations – you'll find yourself firmly back in square one: lost in a place you don't know." Vaago grinned and chuckled. He was "But, really, do try to escape if you're interested; it'll be fun to watch. Beyond this Academy is a place where nightmares are made manifest, where your greatest fear is real and on legs."

I glanced at the other survivors. Six boys, including myself, and five girls; most of them still sported various boils and sores on their skin. I hadn't learned their names yet. Though, none of them appeared to be in the mood for talking. Their eyes were stark and focused, and the rage and fear that bubbled from them was almost palpable. They reminded me of American POWs; they were afraid, but – more than that – they were angry.

Vaago must've been aware of that. His burning red eyes blazed brighter. "Anyway, enough of foolish escape plots. Today, I'll be talking and you Neophytes will be listening. As it stands, all eleven of you are the only survivors of the First Trial. There were hundreds of candidates, but the weak have been separated from the strong and now we're left with you lot. Congratulations, once again, for being alive; in the Shadow Academy of San Jose, you will find that being alive is a reward in itself."

"You are all nothing," He continued. "No, you are all less than nothing. You were nothing out there and you are nothing in here! Street urchins, thieves, beggars, and unwanted children; like filth, you were all cast out and left to rot. And yet, you strode on and lived; you survived. Despite everything, you are all alive. And that is why you were brought here, to the Shadow Academy, because in each and every one of you is the potential to be great."

"You are all nothing, for now, but you could all be so much more." He smiled.

"We'll start with your next trial." His smile turned predatory. "Your task is simple: survive for two days. If you manage it, you'll have succeeded and you'll be truly welcomed as a first-year student of the Shadow Academy."

He raised his arms. "Send them to the front!"

I blinked and saw darkness.

And then, I heard gunshots.