It was much colder outdoors than Shean had anticipated. The grass was covered in frost, and it crackled noisily under their feet — or perhaps it only seemed that way because all else was completely quiet.

The school buildings stood in a semicircle, each connected to the next one with a covered walkway. The opening in the circle faced east, to provide the best light possible for the morning exercises. Now the moon hung there, dimming and brightening by turns as the clouds shifted across its face. Up there, the winds were strong; down on the ground, Shean did not feel them, but on the road that could change.

Siel had snuffed the lamp once they’d stepped outside. The windows were to be curtained for the night, but it was not of great importance, and so diligence could lapse; and then if there was a slit left open somewhere, the lamplight could make its way in and wake someone. That had to be avoided. Shean and Siel both knew the grounds well enough to find their way across even in total darkness, but Shean was grateful for the moonlight, still — seeing enabled them to walk more rapidly.

They would need to hurry. The village was close enough, but finding what they needed might take a while; and then they’d have to make their way back before the school awakened, so that they could spring their newfound knowledge on others before the Mistresses had a chance to interfere. It was essential to waste as little time as possible, move as efficiently as they could.

The buildings swam past, glimmering faintly where the moonlight touched the windows or the pipes. Shean counted as she cantered on — the main hall, the kitchens, the bathing house. The garden was next, with its short hedge and its apple trees; then, at last, the open lawns where you could run faster — faster — to the fence.

Leaving the school without permission was forbidden, and so was leaving it at night. Neither of these, though, would seem like much of a crime next to unauthorized entry into the Academy building. The fence was low, easy to clear; Shean forced herself not to think of it, to forget what it represented. Rules were for normal, everyday life, and since she’d seen the vision she knew her life was no longer normal — could not be, until it was over, prevented or true.

She leapt over, crashed into a bush on the other side, straggled out and stood there, panting. Here, the woodland began. The firs spread out, covering the sky, cutting off most of the light, and she could not make Siel out anymore. She could still hear her, though.

There has to be a way to stop it, Siel was thinking, over and over, clinging to the words in a hope that had little foundation to it. This side of her was pitiful and admirable both. There must be something. They’re just not telling us. But we’ll find it, we will. We have to.

There was something poignant about that lonely voice in the night, the desperate feel of a mind less sure of itself than it wanted to be. Shean heard her jump, too, and stumbled onwards in the dark, feeling for the moon as she went, trying to remember which way the road would be.

Light the lamp, Shean called. We’re far enough.

The wood was dense here, a true forest almost; navigating its undergrowth was going to be tricky, but even so it was still a shortcut — would take far less time than circling around to the road through the main gate. Siel carried the lamp in an outstretched hand, away from her body, and as it swayed its light danced around wildly, only occasionally hitting the ground. Still, it was better than nothing — it let the girls find a path between the bushes without having to break through them outright. The forest smelled wintry and bitter, the morning hint of cinder long gone. The frost glittered in the firelight like crushed amber, and above, the clouds were thinning.

Siel and Shean walked in silence, focused on the ground, the pace — but Shean did not need Siel to say it, in order to know that she noticed, too. By the afternoon, the clouds could be completely gone; by the afternoon, sunlight could come unimpeded, just as she had seen.

There could be even less time than they’d thought.

The road lay atop an elevated foundation, with its graveled sides steep and forbidding. Traveling up there, Shean had never realized how distant from the ground it really was.

Let’s find the steps, Siel thought. She glanced left and right, then decided on a whim. Shean followed, peering into the night, picking fallen needles off her mane as she went.

It did not take long before they found a way up. The steps were taller than convenient, with patches of black ice here and there, but after several slips the girls did manage to climb onto the road, and stood there for a bit, getting used to it.

The road wound through the woods, black and ribbon-sleek. In daytime, the village would be visible from here, but now all Shean could see was darkness. It was indeed windy up here, and she pulled her coat tighter around herself. It did not feel quite real — the night, the woods, the road. None of it had felt fully real, ever since she had seen the vision.

The traffic was non-existent at night. The girls galloped comfortably in the center of the road, not worrying anymore about the light or the clatter — here, there was no-one around to notice either. In the village, they would have to be cautious again, but that was a concern for later.

After a while, the bobbing lamplight grew almost hypnotic. Shean stared at it as she ran, allowing it to lull her mind just for the moment. The moon drifted above, gaining altitude.

As the village drew close enough to be heard, they had to slow down.

I can feel it from here, Siel thought in revulsion. I forgot how loud they are.

The less trained a mind was, the more noisily it dreamed. Shean could hear it, too — a distant rumble, not unlike the sea but far more grating. Instinct pushed her to stay away, but the Academy building stood just outside the village, and to get in she and Siel would have to pass very near.

With the lamp snuffed again, the girls walked on carefully, picking their way down the sloping hillsides.

The village lay in a valley — a small, compact settlement, and the Academy made it seem smaller still. Towering far above even the Hall, it could cover the entire village with its shadow when sunlight fell right. Now it was near-invisible, and only when Shean’s eyes fully adjusted to the dark was she able to just make out its outline, traced by the moonlight.

The houses that comprised the village were even harder to see, but the thoughts emanating from them made them easy to avoid nonetheless. Shean and Siel kept as far as they could — as much as the hilly, difficult ground allowed — but it still made for sluggish going, with the chaos of dreaming too close for comfort.

Eyes could be shut, ears could be plugged, but minds were meant to be open, always; such was the nature of their kind, and learning to go against it — even preparing to learn — took years. Most of that was done within the Academy. Shean and Siel had only the most rudimentary knowledge of it, for now — all of it theory, as was proper for their age — and that left them vulnerable to the dreaming of others, that vortex of fragmented thought devoid of control and direction. Shean had gone through it the night before, Siel tonight when she had to sneak out after the others fell asleep; but neither experience prepared them much for this, the hum of untrained hundreds all in one place — jumbled, meaningless, pulling you in irresistibly until you drowned. Even with distance to weaken it, Shean knew she would not be able to stand it for long. She was hard pressed not to run, even though she knew it was too dangerous on this unknown ground — she would only fall, most likely, and break her legs; and broken limbs did not heal well in her kind, not in this world with its alien gravity. Still, when the village was at last behind her and its call grew quieter with distance, she was flooded with relief.

The Academy building hung above now, covering half the sky with its bulk. The gates were held in place with magnets, and clicked open easily when Siel pushed them. The Academy property was never locked — there was no need, with the Academy able to read any mind it wished, to spot — and punish — any criminal intentions well before those could be carried out. Internal crime was common enough, though, but within the Academy the rules were different.

Siel had been counting on that, when she had come up with her plan. For a non-member, trespassing would carry a harsh penalty, and rifling through the Academy’s private documentation a harsher one still — possibly as bad as temporary deafness, if the Academy judged it fitting. Siel and Shean were students, though — uninitiated, not members yet, but they had been pledged, and a pledge could not be broken. Whatever happened, their lives now belonged to the Academy; but that meant the Academy belonged to them, too, in a way — in future, at least. Whether it would be enough to save them in the present, neither of them knew for sure, but it was at least a hope.

Behind the gates, a short alley led to the main entrance. Shean remembered it from school visits — apple trees, they would flower soon enough, showering the ground in petals white as snow.

White as smoke… They might not flower this year, she realized — not if they burned, too. This whole land could turn to ash tomorrow — today, even, for all she knew. If only she could see why — if only she could understand… The vision alone did nothing for her, only made her more fearful.

If only she had been strong enough to go deeper…

Don’t think about it, she snapped at herself, seeking to convince, just as Siel had been doing before. Siel herself seemed too distracted to comment, for once. Concentrate on what you need to do.

They needed to find the porch. It should’ve been straightforward enough — it was at the end of the alley, just as you’d expect — but the dark confused, and somehow they’d lost their way, and had to stumble around for a while, before Siel finally walked into it.

The burst of pain from her mind made Shean cringe, too. As soon as it faded she ran to help, but Siel was already getting up.

Stone, she hissed, and Shean knew she was glaring at the porch despite not seeing it. Why do we build of stone? It’s cumbersome, it’s dangerous, if it falls on you, you die, what is the point —

Stone doesn’t burn easily, Shean reminded her.

Right. Siel deflated a little. Do you think someone might’ve heard me?

They strained to listen, but the village sounded unchanged — sleeping, just as disturbing and yet apparently undisturbed as before. Siel went up the steps, feeling cautiously in the dark for their edges. Shean followed.

The front door was not locked, either. Siel pulled it open just wide enough to let herself in, waited for Shean to slide through, then closed it shut.

It was as dark as a well — as a tunnel — as the depths of the ocean, or the space between stars. It was easy to believe, for a moment, that nothing existed here — nothing but thoughts, and even they were slipping away, whittled at by the chaos of the dreaming village, stranded in the blackness, lost, forever lost…

With a crack, the light came on, and Shean shut her eyes. It was still the same lamp, with its puny flame, but after a long break it seemed blinding, and it took some time before she dared to look.

Siel was staring around, blinking at the shadows. The windows were curtained here, too. On both sides of the entrance, staircases led upwards, disappearing into the gloom, but Siel’s attention was not on them.

The library, she thought. We should start at the library.

It did seem sensible — that was where the formal correspondence would be stored — and Shean didn’t argue.

The library lay below, in the basement, where it was easier to safeguard the books from the sun, dust and humidity. There had been other types books in their home world, Shean knew, those that the sun did not threaten, but upon coming here it had proven to be simpler to borrow the ways of the local dead civilizations and make them from trees. Both girls had visited the building on school trips, but they had never been to the library; they knew where the entrance was, though, having seen it during those same trips. It lay half-hidden behind one of the staircases, and now Siel headed there, with the light in her hand swaying again in a mesmerizing rhythm.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

This door had no lock, either. Beyond it a narrower set of steps led downwards, ending it what looked like a corridor. Shean looked around with interest as she descended, but the place was quite nondescript — pale walls just like the school, no windows and no decorations. The corridor below smelled faintly of plaster. Only when the girls reached the door did Shean finally see something worth remarking on.

This looks so complex, she thought at Siel in wonder. How does it open?

Has to be here somewhere, Siel responded. She had placed the lamp on the floor, and was running her fingers over the edges of the doorframe, looking for the locking mechanism. Found it!

A slim lever lay parallel to the door frame, half-hidden by it. Siel had to use both hands to pull it all the way down. The door began its ponderous shift outwards, and Siel stepped out of the way.

One of her legs bumped into the lamp, overturning it, and she leaned down to right it and check the flame. Because of this, Shean was the first to see.

Even before she could process it and understand, something in her had already reacted — panicking and grieving, and knowing it was over. Siel shot up, alerted, but it was already too late. The light shone around the edges of the door, bright and incontestable; someone was inside, and there was no time to run.

Together, they stood paralyzed with fear, watching as the door drifted open. There was no thought coming from the inside, nothing they could hear, but that could only mean they walked on the Academy members, and high-level, too. So much for outwitting the Academy; so much for saving the city. So much for their plan. It had been stupid from the start to think they could manage, to think they could pull it off — something like this was bound to happen… It seemed suddenly ludicrous that neither of them had expected it, neither had been smart enough to have seen it coming.

At least you understand that, a familiar voice called dryly from behind the door.

Then, abruptly, the world fell to nothing.

This time, coming to it took work. Shean was used to the effects of the wave of silence, of the Affirmation, the exercises — all of it took a toll and left her weary and altered, one way or another. But none of it compared to this. Her head reeled, her mouth was filled with blood, and before her eyes odd circles of light swam and shivered. Her eyelids were stuck together; she reached up to unglue them, and saw through a haze that her fingers came away bloody. Above the ceiling swayed, the lamps there leaving streaks across her field of vision. Shean felt around for Siel, but could not hear her.

Fear jolted her upright.

It was a mistake; her head split with pain, and before she knew it she overbalanced and fell, rolling off of something — an elevation — the floor hit her in side of the face, but she lurched upwards defiantly, trying to untangle her legs and stand up despite the vertigo, to get up to find Siel —

Stop it! Nothing happened to her! Stop this, before you hurt yourself further!

The same voice as before. Now she recognized it, and her insides twisted with horror. Of all the people to encounter here, on their rule-breaking journey, of all the possible Academy members — it had to be the Directress; worst luck imaginable. Shean had known there would be punishment, but she’d thought there would be time to prepare, to brace herself, to figure out a line of defense.

There was no time. She would have to explain it now.

You may have a short while to compose yourself, the Directress allowed.

Shean blinked at her surroundings, waiting for them to settle. Her brain still hurt, but her vision was slowly clearing. She was lying between two desks; she understood now she must’ve fallen from one. Gingerly, she stood up.

Whatever this place was, it could not be the library. No shelves, no books, no comfortable seats — only a few desks, and some seats in a corner. One desk away, she saw Siel laid on her back — unconscious, silent, she had smears of blood on her face, too; Shean wanted to reach out, to wipe it, but was suddenly afraid to try.

The Directress stood in the corner by the door, still as a statue. She returned Shean’s look, but said nothing.

Shean hesitated.

May I ask what you did to us? she began, nervously. When will she wake up?

Soon. The Directress stepped a little closer, looking down at Siel. She lacked sleep, was weaker than you. But it shouldn’t take too long. Her disconcerting gaze traveled back up to Shean again. It is the same wave of silence you are familiar with, but a more potent version. You have erred greatly. It was not a moment for lenience.

We wanted to help, Shean ventured, without much hope. We only wanted to save the city.

I am aware. Same as before, there was no anger in the voice of the Directress. Yet it gave you no right to defy the Academy. No right to defy me.

A flicker of consciousness lit up nearby; they both turned to Siel.

You may approach her, the Directress permitted.

Shean came closer. Siel’s eyes opened, but her mind was still in disarray, bewildered —

Shean? Explain? What happened, where am I —

There was some drying blood on her mouth; Siel lifted a hand to wipe it off, then stared at her fingers much like Shean had.

You’re on a desk. Careful, don’t fall. Shean helped her to sit up, holding her by the shoulders. Siel blinked a few times, and saw the Directress. The feel of her mind snapped to freezing cold.

Have you been lying in wait for us? There was not even a trace of reverence in her tone.

Shean’s mind lunged to interfere, but the Directress overrode her before she had a chance to word it —

No, let her go on. She addressed Siel then, speaking in colorless, measured words. You have walked in on a meeting. There was no trap. No need, as it turned out.

A meeting? Siel’s voice was mocking. Were you discussing Shean’s vision, perhaps? How to stop it, I would hope?

The Academy’s private matters are of no concern to the uninitiated.

Is the city of any concern to the Academy? Siel snapped.

The Directress watched her for a bit, saying nothing. Siel radiated discomfort, unable to hide it, but she did not lower her eyes. Shean reached to touch her hand, drew away when it only made things worse.

What is the purpose of the Academy? the Directress asked at last.

To preserve the land, Shean volunteered promptly. To educate the people. To light the path that leads away from temptation. To prevent the recurrence of the Great Crime.

I knew it. Siel’s mind was gaining speed again. So you will not stop this, because you’re afraid of repeating the past? It is not the same at all! Desperation rang in her voice, and a tentative, heartbreaking hope. Fire is not a being worth protecting! It does not feel, does not think, so why can’t we simply —

You do not know of what you speak, the Directress spoke.

Siel stared at her, stopped in her tracks.

Enlighten me, then, she thought bitterly. Light my path away from this.

Enlightenment cannot be demanded, the Directress replied. It must be given when it is fitting, and only then. You are not in a fit state; you are not an initiated member.

Shean sensed it come in waves — disappointment, anger, dejection, betrayal; above all, the utter frustration of not being heard. Siel’s emotions flooded Shean’s mind, too loud to be shut out; yet behind it Shean knew her own thoughts, too, knew that she herself was not surprised at all.

The Affirmation was clear enough. They should’ve known. Siel had known, had said as much — yet she had still hoped, against all reason, that she could change their mind, could somehow talk them into a different choice. Yet there was no possibility of that, not with the Academy — not with the people whose minds were as impervious as granite, as distant as the stars.

So the city will burn, Siel went on, and you will do nothing; and you won’t even explain, won’t even tell…

The vision is not the truth, the Directress repeated baldly. It may happen, and it may not. It is not decided yet.

But you will not prevent it.

I will do my duty, the Directress thought, and let the events unfold as they must.

Siel stared at her for a while in silence, but in her mind a resolve was growing.

Fine, she shot out at last, decided. You do as you will. But I will go. She stood up and pulled Shean to her. I will tell them, we can still do something — leave the city, drench the buildings —

You will go nowhere. The Directress stepped back, placing herself in front of the door. You are pledged to the Academy, to the school. I decide on your punishment. And I have decided you will stay here, for now. She caught their thoughts and clarified — Not in this room, but in this building. There are guest quarters above. You will be fed; it will be quite comfortable, since you are, after all, children…

I don’t care for that, Siel snapped. So you’re imprisoning us?

I am holding you for your own protection. With some surprise, Shean realized there was a hint of regret in the voice of the Directress, a sadness the cause of which was not quite clear. They may reach here, or they may not; but they will definitely come to the city, and you will perish if you go there.

The inquiry rose in both the girls’ minds, but Shean worded it first —

Who are ‘they’?

The Directress’s stare had grown remote.

Some say a parasite, she thought, some say a curse. They do not speak, and so we have no way of knowing.

What do you think? Siel asked.

The Directress looked at her in some surprise, as if the answer should have been obvious.

The reckoning.

She had never told them anything more. Shean could feel Siel’s frustration as a tangy, pinching cloud, bordering on explosion yet never quite able to reach it. The Directress had held them both under her control as she’d led them upstairs, but the pressure she exercised was fairly light, and only then did Shean realize how exhausted Siel must’ve been for that to be enough. But Siel herself was oblivious to it, preoccupied with her own resentment. She walked behind Shean, dragging her feet — up the stairs out of the basement, then up some more and more, all the way to the top.

This was not how Shean would’ve expected to see the insides of the Academy — the parts closed to regular visitors. Once initiated, she would be allowed to come here whenever she wished, and she had dreamed of that — of being able to take any book, use any equipment she wanted, permitted to research anything she liked. At last, all those years of hard work at the school would pay off; at last, she would be free.

That future seemed very far-off now. They’d walked so swiftly that Shean had hardly seen the corridors, had no time to observe. The Directress led the girls into a room, but did not enter herself.

There are rations in the cupboard, she informed them. I will lock you in here. Do not try to attract the attention of other members of the Academy; they have been instructed not to listen.

Siel glared at her.

And if ‘they’ come here, too? she jeered. Are we allowed to escape, then?

If they come, the Directress thought, there will be nowhere left to go. Consider your conduct, then, and ponder your errors, so that if it does occur, you will be able to accept your fate and meet your end in peace. There is no more any of us can do.

With those words, she locked the door and left. Shean listened to her footsteps disappear into the distance, fading until nothing remained but silence.

Siel stumbled to a bed and sat on it, as abruptly as if her legs ceased working.

What are we to do now? she thought, all her bluster gone. How am I to stop it, now?

Shean sat next to her.

Perhaps we are not meant to stop it, she thought, trying to soothe. She is the Academy; have you not considered that she may be right?

It was the wrong thing to say. Siel flashed with anger, then turned away, but she did not move when Shean reached to stroke her mane. Weariness was beginning to claim Shean, too.

It cannot be right, Siel thought. How can it be, if it means the deaths of so many? What good is the Affirmation if this is what it leads to? How is this any better than the Great Crime? I don’t understand any of it. I have lived with it my whole life, and I still don’t understand.

Beyond the windows, the sky was lightening. The girls fell asleep there, on the bed, too high above the village to disturb anyone with their dreams.

The room was pleasant enough — a long, three-windowed suite, austere in a way that reminded Shean of the school: off-white walls with no decoration, two single beds with dark coverings, and a cupboard where, indeed, the girls found boxes of rations. Hungry when she woke up, Shean chewed on one; it tasted of nothing, and it took her a while to finish it. At least that was something to pass the time.

Sequestered up here, the girls were far enough from the villagers that they could pick up only a faint buzzing. If there were any members of the Academy passing nearby, none made themselves known. The windows were not facing the village, and all that could be seen through the windows were the forest and the road that wound through it. Further away, just behind the horizon, lay the city. On an overcast evening, its lights could be seen where they reflected off the cloud cover; but now the weather was fine, and when Shean looked into the distance, she felt sometimes as if it was not there at all — had never been, and her vision merely imagined. Yet she knew this was only wishful thinking. The trees below were growing more green, the days passed each warmer and sunnier than the last, and there could not be much time left.

Siel was set on escaping, and looked with grim determination for any means to do so. But the lock was too complex for her to pick, the door too sturdy to break, and the blankets too small to make a rope out of them and leave through a window. Shean gave up on trying to dissuade her, and simply listened as she paced the room and her mind churned in search for a way out.

Shean herself did not know what to think. Siel’s distrust of the Academy was largely alien to her, yet the vision had sunk its claws too deep into her mind to be ignored, and she could not help yearning to get out, too, to be able to do something — anything — to stop it from happening, even though they were directly instructed to remain in place. She had always been inclined to follow others and do as she was told — because it allowed her to obey the Affirmation, and be better liked, and stay untroubled by the need to decide, all in one swoop. But now the temptation to cross the Academy and do as she herself willed had grown too strong, and for the first time Shean found herself wanting to join Siel not because of Siel’s forcefulness, but as a genuine choice. Yet then she would remember the words of the Directress, the sorrow in her voice, and was cast into doubt again.

Boredom did not help. There was nothing to do — no books, no tools, nothing to look at but the forest and the sunlight creeping across the walls. Shean stared out of the window at the birds and the squirrels, at the passers-by cantering along the road, but none of it was much of a distraction, and her thoughts kept returning to the same thing: the streets, the smoke, the screams. She could find no path to peace in this, despite her training.