There was an empty space where the fire had been ripped from him. No… not an empty space. Not a hole. But something far worse. Something cold. He could not understand what it was. But it was the feeling of … nothingness. An abyss that wanted to spill out and eat up everything around it. His heart was keeping that abyss locked in place. It could not get out. But if it did, he felt as if it would swallow up the world.

There was darkness around him.

He couldn’t see anything.

He couldn’t hear anything.

He couldn’t feel anything.

Except for the abyss in his heart and a call.

A call for him.

Something was calling for him. For the abyss in his heart.

It was not anything he could hear. It was just … there. He could feel in his heart, in his mind, in his very soul.

He tried to turn his head around. He did not know if he was successful, because he could not feel anything. Not even himself.

He didn’t quite mind. There was nothing to see.

Maybe if he heeded the call, he would find something?

He moved. Or at least he thought he did. He tried to do the motions that moving usually required. Lift your foot, push it forward, place it on the ground - was there a ground? There must be because he was not falling - and move your other feet the same way. And repeat again and again.

It must be working, because he felt as if he was getting closer and closer to the call.

He moved and kept moving forward, feeling a pull in his heart that got stronger and stronger.

Whatever it was, he had to reach it.

He ‘moved’ his hand, having a feeling that he should reach out.

And then… something clamped around his hand.

He blinked. He could feel it.

He could feel himself blinking.

“...milio, Emilio!”

He could hear.

His eyes snapped open and he found himself in front of an empty wall, surrounded by vines, plants and bushes.

He exhaled harshly and felt the air burn his throat as he inhaled the next moment, sweat dripping down from his temple. He could see a pale hand around his wrist, extended in front of him.

“Emilio?”

He blinked again and looked up, only to find Sebastian looking at him with wide-eyed worry. His hair was open for once, not up in a ponytail, and Emilio could see himself reflected in those coral eyes. His hair was swaying slightly in the wind, looking almost silver as it reflected the moonlight.

“Sebastian?” He called, his voice hoarse and, more importantly, confused.

“What are you doing here?”

It was not something he had considered, despite the fact that he had realised the moment he had opened his eyes that he was not in his room.

He frowned. “I… I do not know.”

Sebastian stared at him for a long moment, looking into his eyes unblinkingly. It was … unerring, the way Sebastian seemed to want to look into his very soul.

Emilio was the first to look away as he cleared his throat. “I… I was sleeping. I do not know why I am here.”

“So… you were sleepwalking?”

Emilio frowned again. “I … do not know,” he repeated. He had never sleepwalked before. It had never been a problem for him.

“If you were sleepwalking, then you should have stopped the moment you got to the door. Sleepwalkers usually cannot go beyond a certain obstacle.”

“How do you know that?” Emilio asked but then quickly shook his head. “Wait, no, never mind. I have never had the problem of walking in my sleep. I do not know how - or why - I ended up here.” He looked around. “There is nothing here.”

“Then why are you here?” Sebastian asked, his voice unusually solemn. And maybe it was Emilio’s imagination but it sounded … deeper. Somehow.

He turned around and Sebastian was still staring at him.

“I do not know,” he repeated, the lie falling on his lips instinctively. He didn’t remember much, but he remembered the call, the pull. It was … not something you could forget. He felt as if he could still a phantom ache in his chest where he had felt the pull.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked, his gaze now soft. It made Emilio think that the moment before was just his imagination.

He gave a small nod. “I am fine.”

It was then that he realized that Sebastian still had his hand wrapped around his wrist, as the boy pulled him closer gently, before cupping his chin. “Are you sure?”

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Emilio’s breath hitched, as he saw the beautiful face up close, those brows furrowed in obvious concern, those beautiful eyes gazing into his own. For a moment, the question did not register in his mind. He stood there, Sebastian’s cool hand a soothing weight against his cheek.

“Emilio?”

He blinked. “Yes,” he exhaled softly but did not pull back. Did not want to pull back. “I am fine. Um… You can let-”

“Emilio!” The familiar voice of Balsea finally pulled them out of their entranced closeness. Sebastian let go of his hand and then turned around, only to find Balsea morphing out of their signature purple smoke. “Are you okay? What are you doing here?!”

Emilio stepped away from Sebastian, strangely aware of exactly where the boy was. “I am alright. I don’t know how I got here. Apparently, I sleepwalked.”

“Walking in your sleep?” They asked, blinking. The concept seemed new to them, but they understood it immediately. “I swear, I decide to look around town one night and you decide to walk in your sleep that very night? I come back and find the room empty. Do you have any idea how worried I was?!”

“It’s not like I decided to walk!” He countered, feeling indignant. “It just happened!”

“By the Old Spirits, everything just happens with you!” They snapped back. “What if something happened to you? What if you fell down the stairs? What if you encountered that bastard? What if-”

“Balsea!” He interrupted the fae harshly. “It’s not like I could control it! I went to sleep and the next thing I know, I am here! What am I supposed to do about it?”

Balsea seemed to freeze at his harsh tone. After a moment, he slumped. “I know. I am sorry. I was just… when I thought that something might have happened to you, I just…”

Emilio’s eyes softened. His friend was worried about him. He put a hand on the fae’s shoulder. “I am fine. See? Nothing happened.”

“You’re lucky nothing happened.”

Emilio blinked at the hissed comment, which came from below him, and then looked down, only to find Sal wrapped around his calf. He had not even realized that the Leviathan was there. He was practically weightless at that moment.

“Sal? What are you doing here?” He asked.

“I came with you,” Sal replied in a deadpan tone. “You just stood up in your sleep and walked all the way here. I tried to call you and snap you out of it but it didn’t work at all. What else was I supposed to do except cling to you?”

Emilio smiled and reached down, gently stroking Sal’s head with a finger. “Thank you.” He then offered the arm for Sal, who slithered up and took his usual place around his arm.

Emilio then turned around and nodded to Sebastian. “Thank you for waking me up. Who knows what might have happened.”

“No worries.” Sebastian smiled. “You should get back and rest. Classes tomorrow.”

“Alright. Thank you again.”

With that, Emilio walked away with Balsea, painfully aware of Sebastian’s gaze on his back.

What he was not aware of, was Sal’s gaze fixated on the stretch of empty wall he had been reaching out for in his sleep.

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

He woke up with a mild headache the next day. He wondered if it was because of what happened last night. He made sure to drink more water than usual at Sal’s urging. How the baby Leviathan knew about human remedies was beyond him.

The classes went uneventfully. Fortunately, he did not have Mana Theory. So he did not have to face the Prince, which was undesirable to him on every level imaginable.

Unfortunately, he did have Magical Combat. With Evan.

He made sure to stay away from the boy, even though he did not seem to be paying attention to Emilio, seemingly engrossed in a conversation with his classmate. So that was a relief.

He himself spoke to Balsea about mundane things and distracted himself well enough until Professor Sullivan came. His presence seemed to exude some sort of aura because the moment he walked in, everyone went quiet and turned their gazes, following his steps as he situated himself in the middle of the field as always. His gaze ran over the crowd, lingering on Emilio for a split second.

“Today,” he started, “we are going to do something different.”

Emilio straightened and he could feel most students around him doing the same. Different usually meant something exciting.

“Today, we will do a teamwork exercise of sorts.” Emilio could feel some sighs of disappointment. Well, that was a given, since they probably were looking forward to some sort of exciting combat.

The man rolled his eyes at his students. “No need to be so disappointed. You will get your dose of combat.” He pulled out a small box from his robes. “In this box are small chits, each four of them having the same number. You will take a random chit and your team will be the other three who take the same number. The four of you will be a team in this exercise.”

“But what is the exercise?”

“Good question.” He pointed towards the woods. “There are six flags scattered across different points in the forest. Each team will be given a map with the locations. Each time will have to get the flags and get back here within two hours. The teams who fail to do so, will be punished with training until sunset.”

Emilio raised his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Florian?”

“Sir, you said there are six flags?” He asked, and the man nodded in answer. “But if we are being divided into teams of four, then there will be twelve teams. There are not enough flags for all the teams.”

A smirk spread across the man’s face and chills ran down the spines of all the students, except perhaps Balsea.

“You caught on. Very good. Yes, there are only half as many flags as the number of teams. Which means, even if all the flags are captured and brought back, only half the teams will win. How your team gets its flag is upto the team itself. Anything goes, as long as there is no permanent damage.”

Emilio heard murmurs running through the crowd, equal parts excited and uncomfortable. Emilio himself felt it, feeling the drive to win but knowing that it wouldn’t be easy. No doubt many teams will use underhanded tactics to get the flag.

“Now, come and get your chits. No cheating to get the number of your own friends. Trust me, I’ll know and all of you will have to do it all over again.”

He did know. After about a dozen students took their chits, one of the students tried to use a spell to see through the chits and get the number she wanted. Professor Sullivan immediately caught on and everyone had to put their chits back in, glaring at the girl.

No one tried anything after that.

Emilio stood patiently in line and took his chit. He opened it. Three.

Once everyone was done, the man looked around. “Everyone, now you will raise your chits as I call your number. One!”

Four students raised their chits. Two of them looked pretty excited. Must be friends.

“Two!”

Four more.

“Three!”

Emilio raised his hand and looked around to see who else had gotten the same number.

His breath hitched.

Evan.

Clara Preisis.

Princess of Zahir.

Which god did I invoke the wrath of?