We were going quickly towards the Academy, our footsteps ringing out in the deserted streets of Bessou. The moon, hidden behind thick clouds, cast the faintest light upon our path, but even in the darkness I saw everything, only colored in shades of black. I noticed the details of our surroundings, every stone and crack on the walls, as if illuminated by some unseen force.

“That was strange, they’re usually not this aggressive,” Florencia said. “I’ve never seen them act like that before, but tonight they were out for blood.”

“It was definitely odd,” Jace agreed and turned to me. “Jonas, that was a mean punch. It was so fast I didn’t even see it. Maybe a little too powerful, but a nice punch nonetheless.”

“A little too hard? I shattered the man’s jaw and teeth and left him bleeding out. He’s dead,” I said.

“They deserved nothing less,” Florencia said, her voice uncaring. “They were going to slit your throats and throw you into the lake, and Iscia knows what they would’ve done to me. I would’ve begged for death before it was all over. Good riddance to them!”

I nodded, not wanting to continue the conversation. But Florencia and Jace kept talking in a dismissive tone, agreeing both that we had done the right thing and there would be no repercussions from the city guards.

But I felt off balance. It wasn’t the violence that bothered me. What disturbed me was the nonchalance with which it was carried out. As if it was a normal, everyday thing. I stretched my fingers, feeling the satisfying crack of my knuckles, but there was no pain from the punch. The man named Rors was dead, and my hand felt no worse for wear, yet my conscience was heavy with unease.

All the way toward the Academy we heard more around us, like a predator stalking a prey. There were silent footsteps and whispers, but it was distant and luckily none came to bother us until we reached a wide boulevard, edged with tall and wide trees without leaves and where many streetlights were lit every couple dozen feet. I saw groups of guards patrolling here and there, dressed in grim dark-grey cloaks and darkened steel helmets with golden feather plumes, hands set on their sword handles.

As we turned the corner, already close to the Academy, a pair of mounted cavalrymen approached us. They eyed us with suspicion, horses snorting and stamping on hooves on the cobblestones street. Florencia saw their unease, slowly reached into her chest pocket, and pulled out the golden medallion of the Yasman Lodge, holding it up for them to see.

“My apologies, Lodgeman. Please continue,” the guard said and relaxed, and continued on their way, the steeled hooves echoing into the distance.

A tall and thick black iron fence surrounded the Cappesand Academy. It was built on top of a centuries-old stone foundation, cut utterly straight and square with perfect stone joints, so no mortar was used. We went through the main courtyard, hundreds of feet wide, in the middle of which stood two sorcerers of old. They were carved out of white marble, and casting their gaze towards the distant Leden Mountains as if summoning their power to build Cappesand.

We passed the statues, and as we went by, Florencia took my arm and pointed up to our right—there I saw a tall tower of deep grey and sand-colored brick, whereupon its triangular roof revolved eternally the Jewel of Thei. It was the crystal of Cappesand of which many legends were told, but none knew its origin, save for the wisest and most esteemed. The crystal shone a dazzling color of the rainbow onto all the buildings of the Academy so they would never be in total darkness.

I had never noticed it before, not even when I left Cappesand eight days ago, nor when we went out on the town.

“Amazing,” I mumbled, and Florencia smiled, but led us on.

“The Academy may have its flaws,” she said, her gaze shifting upward. “But the Jewel is still gorgeous. We used to spend many evening looking at it, Jonas, sitting at the docks or the park. And despite everything, I still have a fondness for this place.”

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“It’s easy to take something for granted when you see it every day,” Jace said as we walked beside each other. “I’ve been looking at it since I was a kid. My father always told me I would end up studying here, and I did. It must be beautiful seeing it for the first time again.” He let out a small chuckle. “I guess I’ve grown too accustomed to it. It’s not as striking as it once was.”

It was unfortunate that such beauty hid such devilry; I thought.

“Let’s go. Ardovar is waiting,” Florencia said, urging us onward.

The building before us was tall, but narrow in width. We passed a large carriage lined up by the main entrance, with four horses harnessed in front of it, but there was no coachman in sight. The horses were sleeping, blinders on, and a couple of young-looking ostlers were also asleep against a low stone wall, covered by large blankets and with a dim lantern hanging above them.

The Yasman Lodge headquarters was built with dark bricks, and had tall windows with elegant, carved arches of stone. The entrance was grand, towering above us as we approached it, and we climbed many stairs before we finally entered the grand hall, with Florencia leading the way.

I was then in the same grand hall I had left only eight days ago, which now felt like an eternity ago. Jace and Florencia both turned right and went through a pair of narrow but high doors, leading us through a wide and long corridor with carved stone walls and hanging tapestries depicting sorcerers of old.

We walked through the corridor, feet sinking into the hard, dark-red carpet that stretched out before us. Old and worn, golden trimmings it had, with faded patterns of oddly shaped squares. The carpet had seen better days. The corridor then turned left, but Florencia stopped before the first turn.

She stood in front of an old decorated door, with minimal carvings, but a golden nameplate. It read: “Ardovar Verrier, Lord Commander of the Yasman Lodge of the Cappesand Academy of Esoteric Arts”. Florencia knocked, and I heard movement inside. From under the door, I saw a dancing red and orange light.

“Come in,” came the answer.

My heart started beating harder, and I felt my hands shake. This was it. I had no idea what Ardovar would do, but I needed to get this out of the way. All my hope was on Florencia.

We entered, and my eyes were immediately drawn to the large and imposing dark-wood table that stood proudly at the center of the room. The tabletop was long and wide, covering over half of the entire room, and was covered in books, letters, and stacks of papers. Before the tall and soft-looking chair was set a black leather writing mat, and two feathery quills—one white, and the other red.

But Ardovar Verrier sat to our right, sunk deep into a smaller chair he had set before the fireplace in which a fire was crackling and casting a warm glow over the room. He had been smoking, as his office was full of a thin smoke that had an earthy, but sweet smell. If he had offered to let me to try the tobacco, I would’ve accepted. I looked around and saw that the entire room was dimly lit. From the ceiling hung a chandelier with five light-beads, which all together lit the room enough for the evening.

The Lord Commander sat in silence and looked ponderous, with his chin resting on his arms and a lit pipe in his mouth. He wore a long robe of deep purple and crimson, which was very fitting for that evening; I thought.

“Good evening,” Ardovar Verrier said. “Or, perhaps, good morning would be more fitting.”

On shaky legs, the Lord Commander stood up and walked to his desk, and sank back down into the large chair. We stayed standing, as there were only two chairs in the office, and one was before the fireplace.

“I’m happy that both you and Mr. Espian came, though I hoped you would check in on the Lodge earlier,” he said. “So I sent Guardian Vialisios to get you. Warden Regalla, I hope you had enough time to rest because we are at the Lodge stretched thin enough as it is. We cannot idle. There is much work to do.”

He turned to me with his small, dark eyes, which were tired and strained. “Mr. Espian, I must say you look more presentable than before. How is your injury? I hope it hasn’t been causing you too much trouble.”

“Almost healed, but still stiff,” I said, trying to match his casual tone, though I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off. The wound on my side was healed, but still sent faint stabs of pain every time I thought about it. It was lessening with every passing day, yet it was still present.

“Very well,” Ardovar said, his voice haughty and addressed all of us. “Do not bother sitting down. The meeting will be brief, and I have not had the time to return the chairs from the meeting room.”

He leaned back in his chair, eyes scanning the room as he took a puff from his pipe. The sweet smell of tobacco was enticing, and it seemed like a relaxing activity. I thought I should get one for myself. After a moment of rubbing his tired eyes, Ardovar turned to Florencia.

She seemed to be in high spirits, which I found surprising given what had just happened at the docks. She stood beside me, lips turned upward in a small smile, and her chest puffed out with pride. Her posture was confident and straight, her arms crossed over her chest, but she was relaxed and at ease.

“I have an assignment for you…”