“Are you sure they’ll be alright?“ Ceres questioned Grovalt as they neared the shadowed school.
“I’m sure. Besides, they have that witch with them. That crazy bitch seems like she’s capable of anything.“
“Language,“ Nakir intoned in a bellowing voice. “It wouldn’t serve the little one any better to learn foul manners.“
Raum laughed lightly. His voice was the opposite, as if it were a feather that lightly met their ears. “I wouldn’t worry about such a thing. As we both know, it seems she already has quite the mouth on her.“ The human-dragon hybrid shot a daggerful stare at Raum, but he only answered her with a smile full of the sun’s warmth.
Across the plaza where the Resistance fought for them were the well-off districts. Ceres and the others had already passed through most of them to get to their true objective. The Aza Academy was a massive school only attended by wealthy Azanites, and it taught the city’s youth everything from arithmetic to the city’s history. It also taught the use of magic, explained its source, and attempted to determine every student’s aptitude for it. Every person had a greater or lesser aptitude for the arcane that seemed to be set randomly at their birth, although bloodline also seemed to be a great factor as well. Thus, as most wealthy families in the city were composed of powerful mages and wizards of the like, it was uncommon for a high-born Azanite not to have any magical power whatsoever.
“There’s nobody around.“ Rook eyed the abandoned buildings with a certain ire. His right hand rested on his thick blade.
“Let’s hope they already evacuated at the sound of the siren earlier,“ Grovalt said, attempting to ease his worry.
“Man,“ Lumi started, her cheerfulness returning somewhat after the grim circumstances the group had faced moments before. “Reminds me of our time in school. Doesn't it, Rook?“
Rook gave a solemn nod, his weariness of the silence surrounding them still distracting his gaze.
“Yeah, it does.“ Grovalt squinted as he looked at the Academy. It was the same as the rest of the buildings in Aza, however it was made up of many different connecting buildings that were barred behind a large iron gate. In the middle of the buildings was the largest one, no doubt the main entrance. “I’d rather keep those memories locked up tight.“
“Why? You flunk, Grovey?“ Lumi's luminescent smile seemed to glow underneath the Imperium's great shadow.
“Grovey…? And no, I didn’t flunk. Just wasn’t the best experience for me. I grew up in a small town up north, so we didn’t exactly have the best education around. What about you two?“
Lumi and Rook’s eyes seemed to darken as Grovalt’s inquiry left his lips. “We didn’t get to finish school, exactly…“ Lumi attempted to explain. Grovalt sensed the tension between them, and decided not to press the conversation further.
Darriel suddenly broke the silence. “Lumi, mind bashing that gate in for us?“
Lumi’s eyes regained their luster and she moved in her usual showy manner. “Yes sir!“ With a drawn-out, dramatic motion, Lumi drew the monstrous hammer from her back and wielded it with two hands as if it weighed nothing. She quickly ran toward the entrance gate and, with a charged swing, bashed the gate with a ton of force. A deafening metallic sound rang out across the street. After it faded, the gate Lumi had busted off its hinges fell to the ground in front of them with another loud clunk.
“Holy shit…“ Grovalt eyed the young blonde girl with awe. “Guess I did underestimate you, somewhat.“
Lumi replied with a toothy grin as she returned the hammer to its rightful place on her back.
“Hey… isn’t this a stealth mission?“ Maxra loudly whispered.
Zenzi’s eyelids were half-drawn into an almost bored expression. Her lips were in a straight line, as if they were drawn onto her face with a ruler. “Well… it was. Then the Resistance and Eloise did their thing. Then Lumi did her thing. At this point, it doesn’t matter anymore. There shouldn’t be anyone in the Academy, anyway. At least I don’t hear any thoughts from here.“
“That reminds me,“ Grovalt chimed in. “Why couldn’t you hear me at the mansion back then? Could’ve really used your help before everything went to hell.“
“Hmm… not sure. My only guess is that whatever that mansion was built out of had the ability to deflect magic, including my telepathy.“
“So it could deflect magic but it crumbled under the weight of a dragon?“
“Yep. Same is true with the Imperium, except the Imperium is impenetrable through normal means as well. Thus our detour this way.“
“The hope is that the Resistance made it through the entrance so we can rendezvous with them once we’re inside,“ Darriel finished Zenzi’s thought.
Grovalt nodded, and the group stepped over Lumi’s handiwork down the path to the Academy’s entrance. Though a bright blue sky still lit the world around them, the Academy seemed almost like a black hole that aborbed all light that dared to pierce its perimeter. The entrance door was slightly ajar, giving a tiny peek into the unlit hallways that hid within.
Ceres was the first to reach it. Pushing it open with her draconic hand, it gave way to something that was leaning against its frame. A flag of sorts fell onto the floor, sending a clacking sound that emanated throughout the hall. “I don’t like this.“
“Indeed,“ Nakir added. “We should all tread carefully. There could be any manner of traps and tricks about such a place.“
The group entered a long, wide corridor that connected to many various rooms. Most of the rooms were empty classrooms filled with toppled desks, scattered papers, and forgotten belongings. In fact, nearly every inch of the floor was covered with papers. Picking one up, Ceres saw weird squiggles and marks on it neatly put into lines. “What are these things?“
Grovalt looked at the page over her shoulder. “Essays and memos… a lot of the ones that look like homework seem to have failing grades on them.“
“Essays…?“ Ceres’s curiosity uplifted her voice with a slight inflection.
“Wait.“ Grovalt lowered his head. “Don’t tell me you can't read, Ceres.“
Ceres blushed and threw down the page with enough force to punch a hole into the wooden flooring. “I can read! These words are just too complicated. All this talk about the ‘essience of magick’ and the ‘source of transmogrigation’.“ Ceres did not know these words.
A wry smile crept onto Grovalt’s face. “Well, once we save your sister, how about I teach you two?“
Ceres looked off into nothingness, avoiding eye contact as if to show Grovalt she wasn’t very interested. “I guess so, if that’s what you want. Not like we really need to read this stuff anyway.“
“And I, Nakir, shall help. I was quite the writer in my time I’ll have you know. More so than any warrior.“ Nakir's jealousy was obvious in both his words and his demeanor. Having never seen Nakir this way until now, Ceres found it somewhat endearing.
“The real question is, why are there so many? I mean, they’re everywhere.“ Grovalt’s eyes flashed upwards from the papers to the end of the corridor. Outside it, a front desk perhaps for reception lay in a large expansive room. A blue feathered quill and potted flowers sat atop it.
As they tiptoed across the rustling sheets beneath their feet, a hushed voice called out to them from behind. Lumi was there, pointing into a room they had just walked past. “Come here!“ She giddily trotted out of view.
The group found her searching through a wardrobe. In it were many clothes of different sizes, though they were all the same. They were Academy uniforms.
“Don’tcha guys think Ceres needs something new to wear? This is perfect!“
Darriel sighed harder than any had ever sighed before. “We didn’t come here to shop, Lumi. Focus.“
“Wah? Come on, Darriel. Guys? I mean, she’s been covered in blood for days now. Yeah it’s dry, but a lady’s got to look the part when she’s on a job!“
Unexpectedly, with the shock of Grovalt and Nakir, Ceres rushed forward and swiped the clothing from the blonde girl’s hands. After leaving to change, she came back wearing the Academy’s official student uniform. Black with red accents, it came with an overcoat and a fitting tie. The coat was tied together at the base of her neck with a red ribbon.
At the sight of her, Grovalt and Nakir shifted from a state of shock to something else entirely.
“Okay… you may have had a point. Doesn’t change the fact that this is a waste of time, but… she looks good.“ Grovalt gave her a slight smile and a nod.
“My, my… Little one. You look tremendous! Truly attire fit for the company of the black dragon Nak-“
“Enough!“ Darriel’s temper had reached its peak. He cleared his throat, a little embarrassed at how loud he had gotten. “We really don’t have time for this. If you truly want to feel proud as her guardians, then you should have found her new clothes before the job. Not on it.“
The two doting men shrunk under Darriel’s scolding. They looked at each other, then eked out a respectful, “Yes sir.“
As they continued on, Ceres looked at herself in the mirror. Though she didn’t resemble the girl she once was at all, it suddenly didn’t bother her as much now. Though that human village girl had vanished, she was still within her. A jubilant smile flushed her face, the first in what felt like a very long time. She began to realize that if these people didn’t care about her jagged limbs or her menacing eye, then neither would Asteria, and the thought of her sister welcoming her with open arms lightened her mood immensely. Still smiling to herself, she brushed off her newfound clothes and followed everyone else back out of the room. Tugging on Lumi’s coat, she whispered in a tiny voice. “Thank you.“
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“No problem, lil’ sis. Any girl stuff you want to talk about, you come to big sis Lumi, okay? Those deadbeats wouldn’t understand a lady if she gave ‘em a month-long class on it.“ She gestured forward towards Grovalt and Nakir, who were still conversing about how cute Ceres was.
Entering the entrance hall, a shriek pulled each of their heads upward to inspect the source of the shrill outburst. A horrific figure was standing above them halfway up the stairs, laughing as though someone had just told a hilarious joke. It was an older fellow in long priestly robes. What struck them all was the huge metal cross that had impaled his head. Its end jutted out of where his eyes should have been, though he made no notice of it hurting or even being a nuisance.
“Who are you?“ Darriel asked, the least surprised out of the group.
The man’s toothy smile rotated as he knocked his head to one side in a look of wonderment. “Just another soul lost in this ever-changing maze of life, friend.“ With not another word, he dashed out of view.
“Hey!“ Darriel ordered, but the man was already gone.
“What a strange occurrence. Should we follow him?“ Raum posited.
Grovalt shrugged. “Didn’t seem like he wanted any trouble. Maybe we should just ignore him…“
Ceres clenched her teeth. If there was anyone who could help them through this dark academia, it would surely be someone as odd as he. “Let’s follow him. I have a feeling he might want to tell us something.“
The group went upstairs past the reception desk to find themselves in a colossal, expansive library. Towering bookcases separated the room into dimly lit sections, and multiple skylights on the ceiling cast dull sunlight upon their webbed frames. Like with the rest of the school so far, everything seemed so cold. The materials used to build such a place didn’t give off any kind of warmth or familiarity. A library, often the source of warmth and welcome, now seemed like something alien to them all. A feeling that they were trespassing upon something not meant for them ran through their minds.
“Ah~ Hello, hello. A grand creation, isn’t it? And so very old, it is.“ The off-putting man showed himself, a book splayed open in one hand.
Zenzi’s small frame buckled slightly. She seemed to be in pain in some way. One of her hands grasped at her head and she winced. Her voice resonated within their heads. “Careful. I can’t get a read on him. He might be like the others… the prisoners.“
“Oh, do not worry. I wish you all only good tidings for your trek across this horrid place.“
“Why in the hell should we trust you, buddy? I mean, there’s a cross rammed through your skull.“ Maxra pointed her dagger at the garbed figure.
“I bring you all only warnings, anisai. This path you tread, it is a doomed one. Haven’t you realized that cat’s trickery? All of this trouble is born from his toil~“
“How do you know…? Doesn’t matter. Watch your tongue, freak. Master saved us all countless times. He’s never been wrong. Not once.“
“I have no reason to lie, friends. I am free at last. A free man needs not lie to live. He simply lives. That’s the truth, truly. The cat, now, lives on lies. Feeds on them. You are nothing but tools to him. Stepping stones to beseech the name of our fair goddess.“
“You’re a Church member?“ Lumi asked, though the disdain in her voice showed that she already knew the answer.
“Of course. How could one not pride themselves in worshiping the one who sacrificed herself for this wondrous world? It is by her power that all of us are here right now. What else can we do but remember her name in honor and grace?“
“It’s nothing but blind faith,“ Maxra replied.
“Blind… faith? Hahaha! What a phrase… what a name! A name, indeed. Call me that. Blind Faith.“
“That was supposed to be an insult…“
“No, no. You’re right. The faith I have in our goddess Ymiris is blind, indeed. As is yours in your master. What proof do you have that this road leads to anything at all? How does the cat believe that the safety of this girl’s sister means something to you all? What does this truly achieve?“
Grovalt unsheathed his blade, his face grim. “Do you expect us to sit and ignore what the Sorceress is doing?“
The man who called himself Blind Faith reared back and laughed hoarsely. Black blood fell from his wound and dropped into his open mouth as he cackled. “No. I simply ask that you all think long and hard before any of this is set in stone. Wouldn’t you agree, Sirithisian? Fate is a cruel, unforgiving mistress. Only once we have understood our mistakes do the hands of time reject our pleas to rectify them.“
Raum stood staring at the man, his slightly smiling expression unchanging.
“Well, whatever you choose, just remember: Love and hate are siblings, faith is their mother, and apathy is their father.“ The man teetered past the group, descending the stairs that would lead to his freedom. As he neared the bottom, his mumblings gave way only to one short phrase. “And the moon…“ His laughter faded away as he left the Academy for good.
Grovalt turned from the madman’s departure to Raum. “Did you know him, Raum?“
“No. Never met him before now.“
“The real question,“ Zenzi said from under her long hair, “is how he knew about Master…“
Maxra and Grovalt put away their weapons. Maxra knelt down next to Zenzi and looked into her one revealed eye. “It’s gonna be okay, Zen. As long as we stick to our wits, we’ll be fine. I promise. You know I’ll protect you and Master, no matter what.“
“Right…“ Zenzi tried to accept Maxra’s appeal but it was clear that her words didn’t fully sink in. The gloomy, ghostlike girl wandered away to gaze upon the library’s vast collection of books.
“Sorry. Maybe we shouldn’t have followed him after all…“ Ceres looked at Zenzi, a forlorn feeling twisting her stomach.
Maxra’s worry was plain on her face. Nonetheless, she gave Ceres a half-smile, her ruby red lips emboldening the pure beauty her features possessed. “Please, hun. Don’t worry about it. Zenzi might come off cold, but she worries a lot. She just doesn’t like to show it.“
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you two come to meet Archizend?“
“That’s… a long story. Two long stories, actually. Once we have the time, maybe I’ll tell ya then.“
Ceres smiled. “Y’know, you’re actually pretty nice, Maxra. From how you were before and what Grovalt told me… I thought maybe you hated us.“
“Wha-“ Maxra was taken aback at the sudden compliment. “Well, I… I don’t know about ‘nice’ but… I don’t hate you or anything. Just not too fond of humans. Former humans either. You guys though… you guys are fine.“ Out of her element, Maxra stopped talking to avoid letting any more of her true emotions shine through.
“Hey, you alright?“ Grovalt had approached Zenzi, who was lost in a very large book.
“Fine, human. What do you care?“
“What do you mean? We’re a team. I can’t just let a team member get bad-mouthed and not see if they’re okay or not.“
Zenzi’s single dark pupil scanned the book’s contents wildly, as if to find a way to escape the conversation.
Grovalt scratched the back of his head with one hand, and tapped the table she sat at in thought with the other. “I’ve gotta say something. You always say ‘human this’ or ‘human that’, but you don’t look inhuman to me. What are you, exactly?“
“Wouldn’t you like to know?“
“I’m just trying to understand. Sorry if I overstepped…“
Zenzi sighed, and looked up from what she was reading. “Something that used to be human. And alive.“
“So… you’re undead?“
“Not exactly. Somewhere in between.“
“Not sure if I follow.“
Zenzi cocked her head to the side and gave Grovalt an annoyed look. After a brief while, she slowly raised one hand and brushed the hair covering her other eye to the side. Grovalt’s face fell, and his eyes widened. Her left eye and part of her face were scarred beyond belief. They weren’t normal scars, as well. Violet light, closer to a color unimaginable for Grovalt, seemed to streak like lightning bolts across her face. Her empty eye socket was coated pitch-black, juxtaposing her pale white skin. The reveal only made her look even more like a doll. After seeing his reaction, she quickly covered it back up with her hair and hid her face in the book again.
Noticing her quick movements, Grovalt pulled the book down to talk to her face to face. “Sorry, I was surprised is all. I haven’t seen anything like that… and I’ve seen what magic can do.“
“They’re… claw marks. Master… when we first met, he gave me them.“
Grovalt looked at her in disbelief. “Why?“
“It was a long time ago. He thought I was an enemy of his. It might not make sense to you, but after that I was never the same.“
“How can you serve him, then? How can you just accept what he did to you?“
“Master helped me and Maxra countless times. Right after he did this to me, he saved my life. He gave me a greater purpose.“
“A greater purpose…?“
“Nothing a mere human would understand.“ Zenzi smiled briefly, then looked down at the book splayed before her. As she read, she displayed a different kind of beauty than Maxra did. Her’s was a cold and quiet one.
“Break time’s over.“ Darriel pointed down the stairs. “I found the right way. Let’s go.“
Ceres, Maxra, Zenzi and Grovalt all joined back up with the group and left the dark library. A cold wind from an open window flipped the pages of the book Zenzi had opened. It was a textbook about the history of the Academy and its creators. A page that fell open had a picture of the Archmage on it. Next to him was a picture of another man. His gruff face featured a medium-length raven black beard that only added to his stoic nature. He wore a black suit complimented with a red tie. A furred mantle lay on his shoulders that sported a long flowing cape.
“Over here.“ Darriel led them through a small opening behind the reception desk that led to even more hallways. With his map open and at the ready, he and the others turned down each one until they finally reached the mess hall. Countless tables outstretched across it, fit for more than enough students to eat their fill every day. “The secret entranceway should be right around here.“
Before the group could begin their stroll through the hall, a cloaked humanoid appeared at the far end. As it came into the light, it made its true nature known. It wasn’t human at all. Rather, it was an animated skeleton. Two glowing white lights hovered where its eyes would normally be. “Greetings, Ravens. Mercenaries. I am Imagon, the Eternal. One of the five officials loyal to the Black Sorceress. I believe you have no right to be inside the Academy at this time. It would be best if you turned around and left the way you came.“
Everyone readied their armaments. The foe was an undead wreathed in a nightshade cloak. Though his appearance was sinister, he spoke eloquently and politely.
“Can’t do that, skelly. We’ve got a girl that needs saving.“ Lumi rested her mighty hammer on her shoulder. Her body language would normally tell that she was totally relaxed, but it was quite the opposite. She was intently focused on their enemy.
“Shame. I don’t quite enjoy the act of killing like my colleagues. Though, if it’s for my lady, I will not hesitate.“ The undead rolled up his sleeves. The lifeless bones that made up his arms were thin and fragile. The nightshade cloak he had donned was complete with a large gem of some kind inlaid in the middle of his chest. It gave off a dark purple glow. “I hope you all can be a worthwhile match for my abilities.“
An aura of danger passed through the group. This undead, if he was who he claimed to be, gave off the same imbalance of power that Eloise did. The sheer thought they’d have to face someone even close to her level terrified them all to some extent. The only one completely unfazed was Darriel, who stepped in front of everyone to take center stage against their shared foe.
“I’ll take care of this clown.“ Darriel cracked his knuckles. A faint, amber energy radiated from his fists. His stoic expression was replaced with one a child might make when playing with their favorite toy. “This won’t take long.“
Imagon eyed the man with flaming orbits. “Quite the confident fellow, aren’t you? Know that I have more knowledge on dark magic than any being you could ever meet. I could kill you with a single utterance, fool.“
Darriel gave a deep, gravely chuckle. “And I could kill you in a single punch. Seems fair to me.“
“Let us put it to the test, then. Prepare yourselves.“ Imagon raised his skeletal hand up to the ceiling, a surge of magical energy gathering in a storm of ultraviolet bolts. Amidst the crackling chaos, a great staff formed in the caster’s hand. Its power resonated throughout the air. Shadowy sparks flew off its end and violet runes materialized in the air around it. A floating orb that lay at the center of its end spun around as Imagon swung it with a few floaty motions. “Face the spirits of old. Hear their screams. Hear their wails. Feel their undying hopelessness. Cower before the remnants of the past.“
A room-wide glowing sigil blinked into existence at their feet. It seemed to almost float up off the ground. The room was coated in a dull, moody light. Something seemed to pull at the floor beneath them, but it seemed to have no effect for a while. However, that would quickly prove to be false. Transparent apparitions rose upwards with daggerlike claws, eager to end the lives of the living beings around them. Imagon had summoned a great number of wraiths to do his bidding. Their features were almost completely gone, replaced with ghostlike bodies and faces that only held wicked crimson slits.
Darriel pounded his fist into an open palm, giving the rest of the group a feeling of solidarity. “Nothing but specters. Use magic and you’ll cut through ‘em like paper! I’ll focus on the mage.“