I stepped through Redwood's gates, the school uniform fitting snugly against my form. The fabric was high-quality, but the cravat felt too tight around my neck—it was Phobe who tied it for me, after I admitted I didn’t know how. Ada used to do it for me back in my world—and before her, my mom.
People stared as I walked by, their glances lingering on the scars on my face. Though the nurses assured me they would heal without leaving marks, they also warned me that complete healing would cost two more gold coins. I had refused, knowing I needed those coins for the dorm room at Redwood Academy. Besides, the scars weren’t too severe. The deeper injuries—the claw marks on my back and the stab wound on my shoulder—would stay as permanent reminders, no matter how much healing magic was used.
Feeling like I was being watched, I looked up at the rooftop. “Hmm.”
"Axel," a familiar voice called out behind me as I made my way toward the main building.
I turned to see Liam standing near a fountain, his posture confident and serious. "Oh… Liam, right?"
"Yes," he said, walking toward me. His sharp eyes scanned my face. "What happened to you?"
"Fell," I replied curtly, knowing the excuse was flimsy.
"Not very convincing, but I won’t pry," he said, adjusting his glasses. "The headmaster wasn’t pleased you missed your first day yesterday."
"Yeah, I had some personal stuff come up," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral. "I couldn’t make it. Sorry."
"Is that why your face looks like that and your leg’s still limping?"
"I thought you said you wouldn’t pry."
"Touché," he said with a serious voice. "But as head of the student council, I’m responsible for every student here. The headmaster takes this place seriously, and so do I."
"I get it, and I’m sorry," I said, keeping my voice steady. "It won’t happen again. I know I’m at fault, and, like I said, I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen in the future."
He paused, studying me for a moment before crossing his arms. "You’re one of those people, aren’t you?" he said, his tone slightly colder. "The kind who tells others what they want to hear. Plays weak and unassuming so you wouldn't come across as a threat."
"That’s… a strange assumption," I said. "I’m nothing like that.”
Except, I was.
When I was younger, I’d found recordings of my father’s police interrogations stashed on his work laptop. They fascinated me—the way he pushed suspects to the edge without aggression, using the Reid technique like an art form. He could break down even the hardest criminals with a calm demeanour and a few precise words. He knew exactly what to say, and what not to say every time. He could manipulate a stubborn criminal into confessing their crimes like it was nothing.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Those recordings became my secret obsession. Without friends, they were my only entertainment. And over time, I started mimicking what I saw. I would create imaginery scenarios where I was trying to get a criminal to confess something he did, or make a gang member confess where he hid the drugs---safe to say that I was a stupid kid back then…
But then my world collapsed. My father abandoned us, my sister died, and my mother turned to drugs. Everything I’d learned went out the window as I sank into the city’s unspoken rules—trust no one, show nothing, survive at all costs. The city’s numbness stuck to my face as I lost every crumble of hope I had.
"Hey," I said, trying to steer the conversation into safer waters. "Is the library open at this hour?"
"Yeah," Liam replied, glancing at the clock tower. "The first lesson starts in twenty minutes. Why do you ask?"
"Just curious. I like reading."
"Mm. Right.”
"Since we're on the topic of books," I continued cautiously, "do you know of a book with blank pages? Its cover was kind of... squishy."
Liam's expression shifted slightly. "You mean Orlaath, the Gluttonous Queen of Endless Desire?"
"Endless des---huh? What?"
"She has a book like that," Liam said, adjusting his glasses as he spoke. "Each page is blank, but it holds a tally of how many people she’s controlled—how many bodies she’s taken over throughout the centuries. Each page traps a human soul. Dead or alive, they're imprisoned within."
"The... wait, Orlaath of Gluttony?" I asked, frowning. "Who is that?"
"Orlaath, the Gluttonous Queen of Endless Desire," Liam corrected, his tone sharp. "She came from Veldyrn, the portal connecting our world to the devils' domain."
"They’re... devils? Real devils?”
"Yes," Liam replied, his voice dropping slightly. "No one taught you this?"
"No," I admitted. "So... Suzan is being controlled? Hmm."
"Suzan?"
"Uh, how does she control someone’s body?" I asked quickly, trying to change the subject.
"A pact has to be made," Liam explained, his voice serious. "I don’t know the exact details, and you shouldn’t, either. This is forbidden knowledge." His eyes narrowed. "Why are you so curious about her all of a sudden?"
"I overheard someone talking about it," I lied, keeping my tone casual. "Anyway, thanks for the help."
"No problem," he said, though his gaze lingered on me for a moment. "Are you going to be staying in the dorms?"
"Yeah," I said.
"It’s two gold and five silver coins. You know that, right?”
"Two and five?" I repeated, my tone dull. "I thought it was just two."
"It was never two gold," Liam said, his tone firm. "Who told you that?"
"Mortan, the blacksmith," I replied.
"Mortan... ah, Mortan. Aiden’s father," Liam said, nodding. "It had to be two gold in his father’s time. Things have changed drastically since then, as you can imagine."
"Hmm… okay." I muttered, realising I’d be completely broke if I paid. But staying at a tavern long-term would drain my pocket faster. "Now, I’ll head to the library, if you’ll excuse me."
"Why are you so interested in the library?" Liam asked, his sharp gaze probing.
I couldn’t tell him the truth—that I’d been yanked into this world by a bizarre cosmic eye, and I was desperately trying to figure out how to escape back to my own. So, as always, I fell back on a lie.
If the city hadn’t numbed me so much, I might’ve thrown in a sad face or some other act. Instead, I kept it simple. "Like I said, I just want to try some new books. The village I grew up in didn’t have much to offer."
Liam studied me for a moment before fixing his glasses. "Alright. But keep in mind, the first class starts in twenty minutes. Your classroom is on the first floor—look for a door labelled with a ‘1F.’"
"Thank you," I said. "I’ll be going, then."
"Okay," Liam replied, his sharp gaze still fixed on me as though trying to spot a crack in my story. "See you soon, Axel."
"Yeah, see you, student council."
"Just Liam," he corrected.
"Alright," I said, adjusting my tone. "See you, Liam."