A thunderous blow rattled Taní from his slumber. He scrambled across the floor in a mangled heap of covers and sheets, his eyes darting to the narrow hall. It came again, but louder. More oppressive.

“D’Histell!”

Taní glanced at his cat-shaped timepiece on the wall. A full hour-and-a-half past the end of his first class.

“D’Histell, I know you’re in there!” master Yedevar yelled, the hammering shaking the wall.

Taní threw on his old shirt and pants from the day before. He didn’t want to risk going all the way to the closet to get a fresh change.

“If you don’t answer me within the next five seconds, then I will not hesitate to extract you from the vicinity. One…”

Taní snatched his Brand from his desk and fastened it to his belt after several clumsy swipes.

“Two…”

He needed somewhere to hide. Somewhere that wasn’t here. The closet and bathroom were only so good.

“Three…”

Taní scurried to the window, tripped onto the bed, and pushed the window with all the urgency he could muster. It didn’t budge.

When he peeked outside the window, he found a smooth path of silvery ingots. None too slanted. Was the roof meant to be treaded?

“Four…”

Taní drew his Brand in a panic, then thrust it at the window’s core. The barrier disappeared with a click, and with it, so did his balance.

What once were the drab skies meshed with the silvery sheen of the slanted tiles, reducing the world to a somber whirlwind as the ocean drew him towards its distant roaring maw.

Taní clawed at the faultless surface, and when he found no purchase, slapped the flat of his hands against it; the tips of his boots digging into whatever they could find. He came to a jerking stop, his dry palms burning against the cool roof. Before he could drag himself forward, his grip vanished, and the vacuous roar of the beast below flooded his ears.

Panic washed over him. He’d fall; he didn’t know how high he was, but he’d fall. Good blood, he didn’t even know how to swim!

Taní cried and clawed at the roof as a renewed surge of death-fearing vigor washed over him, but all the strength in the world would not afford him sanctuary. His day of rightful leisure turned final moments. How embarrassing. They’d probably write “was too stupid to show up for show and tell, so he died,” all over his gravestone.

Taní shut his eyes as his feet kicked against thin air, hoping that the lack of visibility would somehow cushion his fall. Gravity never took complete hold of him, though. For an ungodly second, he just hung there. The storm winds whipping at his legs.

A shadow flickered at the edge of his vision, but when he looked, there was nothing.

Taní peered at the too-bright cloudy sky and sitting some ways above his window appeared to be a nest. No, not a nest. A hidden cavity. One as tall as a door.

A shadowy figure leaned out from the passageway; their hands stretched out as if to grab him. Kinda stupid considering Taní laid some forty feet away from them.

Taní lurched as an invisible pressure hoisted him roofward. He peered at his arm, finding no bindings of any sort, save for a thin shadow curled about his wrist.

Once Taní reached the lip of the cavity, he dragged himself into the shelter and caught his breath, his heart thundering in his ears. Substantially calmer than he was a moment ago, he took notice of the boy standing next to him. His unresponsive classmate from Literature. Unlike before, his cyan-pewter eyes appeared focused for once.

He helped Taní to his feet, and though Taní’s legs trembled from the deathly height, his classmate kept a tight, confident grip on his forearm.

“Thanks,” Taní squeaked.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t mention it. Didn’t want your screaming to gut my nap.”

Taní frowned. “You’re sleeping on the roof?”

“Not exactly.”

Before Taní could press, the boy turned to the depths of the cavity. It aimed straight for the wall, but instead of being repelled upon slamming face-first into the academy, a string of silvery threads parted.

Taní followed him through the well-lit passage, and what he discovered was not the hall of the school, but a fully furnished cabin with a kitchen located to the right, rugs, a large comfy sofa on the left with a grandfather chair to keep it company, a table between them, and a small pantry and cupboard.

Despite the passage’s partial exposure, Taní experienced no chill.

The boy from before went to the stove, took a ladle in one hand and a bowl in the other, then served a thick stew from a steaming pot. “Hungry?” he asked.

Taní, uncertain whether to feel confused or thankful, nodded slowly. “Uh…yeah? I didn’t really have breakfast, so…”

“Don’t worry. It’s hard getting something to eat when you ditch. Unless you go downtown. Never a smart choice, though. Just asking to be hauled off by security.”

Taní glanced at the long sofa he idled next to.

“Hey, hey, take a seat,” the boy urged without looking at him, his accent like that of a Nimmian Islander. “Just make sure you don’t leave any dirt. Infuriating cleaning this high up. Nothing ever stays washed…or dry.”

Taní dusted himself before taking a seat. The firm cushion yielded to his weight, and the draped blanket… Good blood, fluffy and warm wouldn’t describe it. He wouldn’t have minded a nap or two…

“Name’s Jaster; Jaster Fernbank. I’m from—” Jaster paused and offered Taní a bowl. “Ah, doesn’t matter where I’m from. Pleased to meet you.”

Taní graciously accepted the bowl. “I’m Taní.”

“Taní, eh? Never seen you before. You a late arrival?”

“Huh? But…I sit right next to you.”

Jaster eyed him as if he were a shady sheerstone peddler. “You do?”

“We share a Literature class. First period?”

Jaster’s eyes lit up. “Oooh. No. I was asleep. Sorry.”

“But your eyes were open.”

“Not really.”

Taní peered at him. “Not really?”

Jaster stepped back, conjuring a thin line of darkness that crept up his side. If Taní hadn’t been paying attention, he would’ve cast it off as his mind playing tricks on him. The line bled into the space around Jaster’s head, and with flickering wisps of shadow, drew his eyelids closed. “I was just using Toem to keep my eyes open. I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Taní gaped. “You were using Shadow in your sleep?”

“Yeah, it’s not that hard when you got the basics down. Or a phial to burn through. Something simple like this only simmers blood.” Jaster seated himself in the grandfather chair. “But yeah, nice to meet you, Taní. Hope academy life hasn’t killed your dreams yet.”

Instead of mentioning his fear of failure, Taní did the smart thing and ate his stew instead. He moaned as the tender meat fell apart in his mouth.

Jaster kicked his feet up onto the table. “Yeah, bit stressing, but what’s not? That’s why you gotta take your siestas when you can. Just like a Grazer.”

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Ignoring that last bit, Taní asked, “Your name…you’re from New Nimmin, aren’t you?”

“I can be from anywhere you want me to be.” He swept a hand through the air. “Tyrem, Kastel, the greater east…doesn’t matter. Just all from somewhere, right right?”

A grin wormed its way onto Taní’s lips. “Right right?”

“Ah, no more chinwag. You’ll ruin your appetite.”

“Oh, sorry.” Taní downed several large helpings of his stew before suddenly remembering the situation he was in. “What even is this place?”

Jaster grinned. “It’s my retreat. I call it the Joint. Pretty sweet, huh?”

Taní gave it a once over. “Kinda boring. I mean, it looks nice, but there doesn’t seem to be a lot to do here.”

“That’s why you gotta use your imagination. And books! Got some lying around.”

Taní grimaced. “Nah, reading ain’t my thing.”

“I got some games.”

“Sitting and messing with pieces is boring.”

“That’s cuz you haven’t played the good stuff!” Jaster exclaimed.

Taní smirked through a mouthful.

“What about cards?” Jaster leaned forward. “Everyone knows how to play cards.”

“Depends on the game.”

“How about Dreams n’ Wishes?”

Taní wagged his spoon. “You see, that’s a good game. Only problem is I’m not in a gaming mood.”

“Ah, nothing wrong with sitting around, I guess.”

Taní finished the last of his food and leaned into a corner, the blanket wrapped around his lower half. He wondered what would become of him tomorrow. Not only with master Yedevar, but all his teachers. Including Eleanor! Dispelling the thought, he asked Jaster, “Do you just hang around here all day?”

“Sometimes.” The Nimmian reclined in his seat. “If I have to, I climb down during grace.”

Taní glanced at his shoulder, but found no cape. His gaze drifted from one end of the room to the other until he glimpsed something hanging near the hall. A twin-headed dragon.

“You’re a Dragonfang?” Taní whispered.

“Yeah.” Jaster propped an elbow on the arm of his chair and leaned into it. “Better than nothing.”

“Better than being a Fadénix.”

“Nah, Dragonfang’s always scheming. They never shut up about their next ‘biggest project.’ And the worst part? They drag everyone into it. Can’t escape work no matter what you do.”

“Sounds annoying,” Taní said. “I haven’t been a part of my House for long, but no one seems to bother each other.”

Jaster clapped. “And that’s why Fadénix is the best! Everyone leaves you alone! You can sleep, read, or do whatever you want without having the Lord breathe down your neck.”

“The Lord?” Taní snuggled into his blanket. “Who’s that?”

“Right, you don’t know how House’s work, do you?”

“Not really. My House has been…busy.” Taní nodded, but more to himself. “Yeah, they’re doing this whole garden project.”

“Yeah, yeah. Heard some psycho went through and laid-out their corner. The garden grinder or something. Heard the treasurer’s brother spent all last semester scheming up a way to make them legit SG.”

Taní heard a voice inside his head scream. They weren’t exaggerating, after all…

“Looks like your House’ll be strapped for SG. Save up what you can from your allowance,” the Nimmian advised.

Taní threw his head back with a groan. “I keep hearing that, but I don’t understand what it means.”

“Each month, the school rewards a set amount of SG to each house. Divided by the total number of students, of course. Students receive a default of two hundred, but their academic performance, attendance, and all that annoying stuff gets added on to it.” Jaster straightened in his seat. “Everything we do adds to our House’s SG. Especially stuff like Volunteering or keeping the dorms cleaned. Y’know, menial labor. The better we act, the more our House gets, and the more the House’s get…”

“The more they can afford,” Taní finished.

“Exactly. You see, Tan-Tan, we don’t really need all that extra stuff. The school gives us all we need, but it’s the things we don’t have which we want. A bigger stick, SG to duel, buying flowers for a girl you like…we do all that stuff just for show.”

“That just leaves one question,” Taní murmured to himself.

“Yes?”

“Why did you build a house on top of my roof?”

Jaster laughed. “That? Cuz it’s the quietest place around. Didn’t even know someone was living there until today. You don’t make a lot of noise.”

“That’s not creepy…”

“Ah, don’t worry. Just means we’ll be great neighbors!”

“Please don’t bunk outside my window.”

Jaster slapped the armrest of his chair. “I only use this place during the day, don’t worry. Got my own room.”

Taní stared incredulously at him. “Then why are you even here?”

“Cuz it’s quiet! Who doesn’t want a nice place to nap?”

“You’re literally sleeping on my roof.”

“Only during the day. You’ll have your privacy, and hey! If you wanna use it, feel free. Napping is fun with people.”

Taní sighed so heavily he expelled all the air from his lungs. “There is no way I’m sleeping in the same room as you…”

“Hey, you’re missing out on a warm meal and good sofas.”

For some reason, that part made Taní grin. Before he knew it, they spoke of school events, their favorite food, and why he was ditching class. Jaster didn’t appear surprised when Taní mentioned Innes’ taunts. Apparently, the boy had a reputation for getting under people's skin. Not that anyone ever stood up to him.

To think the mild-mannered Lavisa related to that vexing lurker… Well, “disappointed” was a light way of putting it.

Jaster next explained the rankings within the Houses. The highest being Lord, then Shade, treasurer, representative, scion, and vassal. Vassals, unsurprisingly, made up most of the student population. Third-years and above made up the offices of Lords and Shades, but Champions and treasurers were a spot held by only those with the skill to prove.

Finally, something came to him. “Hey,” he said, cutting Jaster off mid-sentence. “What House is Innes a part of? I didn’t see his cape.”

“Vlasalisk from what I’ve heard.”

A pit formed in Taní’s stomach. Someone as terrible as he selected for the House of the courageous and righteous? Was that a bloody joke?

Jaster let out a small yawn, and with it, the lights dimmed. “Wow, it’s past my nap time. Don’t usually have anyone to talk to, but it was fun. Wanna do this again later?”

Taní scoffed. “As long as you stop creeping around. See you in a bit?”

“Yeah.” Jaster turned over in his chair. “See you in a bit.”

As Taní neared the precipice of dreams, living shadows curled at the edges of his vision. A foul shade deeper than the Desolator’s corpse, cradling a resplendent jewel of deep crimson in its maw. And it wanted him to claim it.