The med bay had a way of making even the liveliest of places feel somber. The rows of curtained beds, the muffled chatter of healers, and the faint scent of herbal salves hung in the air. I walked through the aisles, carrying a small stack of books and notes I had hastily compiled from the past few days’ lessons.

When I reached Lorian’s bed, the sight of her sitting upright with a faint smirk on her face instantly lifted some of the weight from my chest. The bandages on her arm and side were a reminder of how close we’d come to losing her, but her sharp eyes and steady demeanor were proof that she was on the mend.

“You look like you’re about to deliver a lecture,” she teased, tilting her head at the books in my hands. “Should I start calling you Professor Illiad?”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “I figured you’d want these. Didn’t want you using your injuries as an excuse to fall behind. And I didn’t think you’d want to fall behind on our riveting lectures about military logistics.”

She reached out to take the books, but her wince as she moved made me place them on the bedside table instead. “Thanks,” she said, her voice softer this time. “You didn’t have to, though. I’ll be back on my feet before you know it.”

“Just trying to make myself useful,” I replied, pulling up a chair beside her bed.

For a moment, we sat in comfortable silence, the hum of the med bay filling the space between us.

“How’s everyone else?” she asked eventually.

“My teammates and yours are fine,” I said. “Bruised, but nothing serious. You got the worst of it.”

She huffed, clearly annoyed. “Great. Just what I needed—to be the damsel of the group.”

“Hardly,” I countered. “The fact that you went above and beyond for teammates just so that your group survived the whole ordeals tells a lot of your abilities.”

Her smirk softened into something more genuine. “You’re getting better at this whole morale-boosting thing. I almost believed you.”

I shook my head, reaching into my pocket to pull out the folded piece of parchment. “Speaking of morale-boosting…” I handed it to her. “This showed up after the training exercise.”

She unfolded the parchment, her eyes scanning the cryptic words: Prepare for betrayal.

Her brow furrowed as she read it again. “Where did you find this?”

“It was slipped under my pillow,” I said. “No name. No clue who sent it.”

Lorian’s fingers tightened around the paper. “You think it’s connected to what happened in the forest?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But it doesn’t feel like a coincidence. Something’s going on, something bigger than just a training exercise.”

She nodded, her expression pensive. “Be careful, Illiad. Whoever sent this… they’re playing a dangerous game.”

Her words carried a weight that settled heavily in my chest. “You just focus on getting better,” I said, standing up. “I’ll handle the rest.”

As I turned to leave, she called out to me. “Hey, Illiad.”

I glanced back, and for the first time since the training exercise, I saw a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. “Thanks. For everything.”

I nodded, offering a faint smile. “That’s what friends are for.”

Leaving the med bay, I felt a renewed sense of purpose—and a gnawing unease that this was only the beginning.

**

Back to Routine

Returning to the academy's daily rhythm after the events of the training exercise was harder than I’d expected. The crisp morning air carried the usual sounds of cadets preparing for drills, instructors barking commands, and the steady clinking of weapons being sharpened. It all felt... normal, almost like nothing had happened. But for me, everything had shifted.

My body still ached from the battle, and while the wounds were mostly superficial, the exhaustion ran deeper. Every step I took across the academy grounds was a reminder of how close we had come to disaster. Yet, life here didn’t pause for anyone. The academy demanded discipline, and so I fell back into the rhythm.

The morning drills were grueling, as usual. Lt. Garven had us running laps around the field before diving into combat techniques. Kalden was off somewhere practicing his precision with a bow, Alisha sparred with another cadet, her spear striking with sharp, calculated movements, and Tristan was being his usual loud self, boasting about some trivial achievement to anyone who would listen.

I kept my focus on the drills, using the routine to steady my thoughts. My movements were deliberate, precise, and efficient, a result of years of practice that had carried over into this life. Yet, even as I swung my training sword, I couldn’t shake the lingering tension in my chest.

Prepare for betrayal.

Those words lingered in my mind like a splinter. Who could have sent it? And why me? I glanced around the training yard, studying the faces of my peers. Most seemed too focused on their own tasks to notice me, but the nagging sense of unease remained.

By the time the drills ended, I was drenched in sweat and no closer to figuring out the message’s origin. Grabbing a towel from the rack, I made my way to the dining hall for lunch.

Kalden and Alisha were already seated, engaged in a heated debate over strategy techniques.

“I’m telling you, maintaining distance is key,” Kalden said, gesturing with his fork. “You don’t rush in with a spear; you make your opponent come to you.”

Alisha rolled her eyes. “And I’m telling you that waiting too long gives them the upper hand. Sometimes, you have to press forward.”

Sliding into the seat across from them, I interrupted, “You two arguing again?”

They both turned to me, Kalden flashing a grin. “More like educating Alisha here on the finer points of ranged combat.”

“Educating?” Alisha scoffed. “Please, your so-called advice would get someone skewered in a real fight.”

Tristan joined us moments later, slapping a plate of food onto the table. “What’s this about skewering? Are we talking tactics or dinner?”

The light banter helped ease some of the tension I’d been carrying, though it was clear none of us had fully moved past what happened in the Wedelia Forest. Even Tristan, despite his usual bravado, had moments where his cheerful mask slipped, revealing a flicker of doubt.

After lunch, I made my way to the library. It had become a habit of mine to spend a few hours there after class, poring over books on strategy, history, and combat. The academy’s library was a treasure trove of knowledge, its towering shelves filled with countless tomes. It was the perfect place to gather my thoughts and prepare for whatever might come next.

As I settled into my usual corner, I couldn’t help but glance at the students moving between the aisles. Were any of them connected to the parchment I’d received? Could they be watching me even now?

Shaking the thought from my mind, I turned my attention to the book in front of me. The words blurred together for a moment before I focused. If there was one thing I could control, it was how prepared I was.

But as the minutes ticked by, the stillness of the library was interrupted by faint whispers. At first, I ignored them, assuming it was just other students chatting nearby. But the tone of the voices caught my attention—hushed and urgent, as if discussing something they didn’t want anyone else to hear.

My instincts prickled. Something was off.

And so, I listened.

**

Library Encounter

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The whispers were faint, barely audible over the rustle of turning pages and the occasional creak of a chair. I paused mid-sentence, pretending to focus on the book in front of me while straining to catch the words. My eyes darted toward the source—a cluster of shelves in the far corner of the library, shadowed by the fading afternoon light.

At first, I thought it was just another group of students studying, but the hushed urgency in their tones said otherwise. Most cadets weren’t so secretive in their conversations unless they had something to hide.

Carefully, I closed my book, the faint thud masked by the distant sounds of footsteps on the wooden floor. I made my way closer, moving as quietly as I could, weaving between shelves and pretending to browse through the titles when anyone glanced my way.

As I approached, the words grew clearer.

“…the pendant is the key, we have the key. All we need is to wait for the weekend,” one voice whispered. It was sharp and confident, probably belonging to someone who thought themselves a leader.

Another voice, quieter but no less insistent, responded, “Are you sure it’s still there? The academy’s security isn’t something to take lightly.”

“It’s there,” the first voice replied, with a certainty that sent a chill down my spine. “The Black Pendant hasn’t been moved. We just need to get past the outer wards and the secondary lock. Then, The Black Pendant will be ours. Can you imagine the power it’ll give us? We’ll finally have a way to control…”

“Shh!” a third voice interrupted. “Do you want the whole academy to hear?”

My breath caught. The Black Pendant? What kind of fools were they to tamper with something so dangerous?

The Black Pendant. The name alone struck a chord of recognition. During one of my late-night reading sessions, I had come across mentions of it in a historical text—an artifact known for its ability to manipulate minds. Dangerous enough that it was classified as forbidden and locked away, far from the reach of ordinary people.

My pulse quickened as I leaned against the edge of a shelf, careful to keep myself hidden.

“We’ve got the key, thanks to a certain someone in the faculty,” another voice added, a hint of amusement in their tone. “All we need is to make our move during the weekend when most of the academy will be empty. Less chance of getting caught.”

The weekend. That was only days away.

I inched closer, peering around the edge of the shelf to catch a glimpse of the conspirators. There were three of them, their faces obscured by the dim lighting and their positioning.

Is it the nobles? A classmate? An upperclassman? Or worse—an instructor?

The taller figure produced a slip of parchment, holding it out for the others to see. “This is the layout of Regulus,” he said, his voice low but commanding. “We stick to the plan. No deviations, no mistakes.”

Regulus. The academy’s forbidden library.

My breath caught in my throat. Regulus wasn’t just any restricted area; it was a vault of dangerous knowledge and artifacts, the kind of place only the most trusted scholars and military officers had access to. The fact that cadets were plotting to break into it was madness.

A thousand questions swirled in my mind. Who were these students working with? How did they get their hands on a key? And what did they plan to do with the Black Pendant if they succeeded?

Before I could gather more, one of them glanced toward the aisle I was hiding in. I ducked behind the shelf, my heart pounding as their footsteps approached.

“Did you hear something?” one of them asked, their voice wary.

“No,” another replied. “You’re just being paranoid.”

After a tense moment, the footsteps retreated. I waited, counting the seconds as they finished their conversation and exited the library, their whispers fading into the distance.

Only when I was certain they were gone did I step out from my hiding spot, my mind racing.

The parchment. The timing. The warning to “prepare for betrayal.” It all fit together now.

I couldn’t go to Lt. Garven or any of the instructors—not until I knew who I could trust. And Lorian... she was still recovering in the med bay. Dragging her into this wasn’t an option.

As for Kalden, Alisha, and Tristan, they were good teammates, but the message had warned me about betrayal. What if one of them was involved?

No, this was something I had to handle on my own.

I closed my book and slipped out of the library, my thoughts focused and my resolve hardening with every step. If these students were planning to unleash the Black Pendant, I couldn’t afford to hesitate.

Whatever their scheme was, I would stop it. Even if I had to face it alone.

**

Illiad's Decision

As I stepped into the cool evening air outside the library, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The plan I overheard wasn’t just reckless; it was outright dangerous. The Black Pendant wasn’t a mere artifact—it was a weapon. One that could twist a person’s mind, eroding their sense of self and turning them into a pawn. The implications of such power falling into the wrong hands were chilling.

But who could I trust?

The cryptic parchment resurfaced in my thoughts, its warning carving itself into my mind. Prepare for betrayal. The words had felt abstract at first, like the paranoia of an anonymous messenger. Now, they loomed over every relationship I held within the academy.

Kalden’s calm and steady demeanor, Alisha’s unflinching courage, Tristan’s confident charisma—could I be sure of them? I clenched my fists. No, doubting my team without reason wouldn’t help. Still, the stakes were too high to gamble on trust.

And then there was Lorian—or Gwyneira, as I knew her now. She was my closest confidante here, someone I could normally rely on. But with her injuries keeping her confined to the med bay, I couldn’t bring myself to burden her with this. Not now.

I felt the weight of the decision settle squarely on my shoulders. If I acted, it had to be alone. There would be no safety net, no backup.

You’ve done this before, I reminded myself. You’ve walked alone in the shadows when no one else could see the truth. This is no different.

Still, the academy wasn’t a battlefield. The rules were different here—or at least, they were supposed to be. I exhaled sharply. Whatever rules were meant to keep us safe were clearly being bent, if not outright broken. If those cadets succeeded in their break-in, they could do untold damage. Not just to the academy, but to lives outside it.

With a deep breath, I turned my thoughts to the night ahead. There were preparations to be made. If I was going to stop them, I needed more than just resolve—I needed information, tools, and a plan.

As the academy’s clocktower chimed in the distance, signaling the approach of curfew, I made my way toward the dormitory. The hallways were quieter than usual, the lingering chatter of students fading as they retreated to their rooms.

My thoughts were a tangled mess of strategies and contingencies, but one question nagged at me: who was the “certain instructor” helping those cadets? The mention of a faculty accomplice added another layer of complexity to the situation. It meant that this wasn’t just a misguided student plot—it was part of something bigger.

I stopped briefly in the dim corridor outside my room, staring at the closed door. The parchment, now tucked securely in my belongings, felt heavier than it should. Its warning wasn’t just about betrayal; it was about timing. Something told me the weekend break-in wasn’t the end of it—it was just the beginning.

My jaw tightened. I couldn’t afford to falter. The lives of my peers and the sanctity of the academy depended on it.

Pushing open the door, I stepped into my room and closed it quietly behind me. The faint glow of the moonlight streaming through the window illuminated the sparse furnishings. I sat down on the edge of the bed, my thoughts racing.

The moment I shut the door behind me, the silence of my dorm room enveloped me like a suffocating blanket. It was the kind of silence that forced every thought to the surface, no matter how much I wanted to push them away. My mind raced, trying to untangle the web of intrigue I’d stumbled into.

I sat at the small desk by the window, the faint moonlight casting pale patterns across the room. Spreading out a piece of parchment, I began jotting down every fragment of information I had, trying to make sense of it all.

Who were those cadets? Their voices were familiar, but the library’s acoustics had distorted their tones just enough to make identification impossible. Still, I had my suspicions. There weren’t many students reckless enough—or ambitious enough—to attempt something like this.

I scrawled down a few names, circling the ones I deemed most likely. They were all strong contenders for troublemakers, cadets who seemed to operate in the academy’s shadows, exploiting loopholes and keeping just shy of outright expulsion.

But the real question burned brighter in my mind: Who was the "certain someone in the faculty"?

The involvement of a faculty member complicated everything. The instructors at the academy were meant to uphold its values, to guide us toward discipline and honor. The idea that one of them might be complicit in something so dangerous turned my stomach.

I ran through a mental list of every instructor I’d interacted with—some kind, some indifferent, others stern—but none of them had struck me as someone who’d betray the academy’s trust. Then again, appearances could be deceiving.

Finally, there was the parchment.

I pulled it out from beneath the notebook on my desk, holding it up to the moonlight. The warning was as cryptic as it was troubling.

Prepare for betrayal.

Who had sent it? And why? Was it someone trying to help me? Or were they merely sowing distrust to make me paranoid?

I turned the note over in my hands, searching for anything I might’ve missed—a hidden mark, a faint scent, an unusual texture. It was nothing more than ordinary parchment, hastily written. But the message carried weight, as though the sender understood the gravity of what was about to happen.

My thoughts turned briefly to Gwen. She would’ve been able to piece things together with me if she weren’t stuck in the med bay. Her sharp mind and knack for finding connections I might’ve overlooked would’ve been invaluable right now.

But I couldn’t involve her. Not in her condition.

I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. Every clue, every hint, seemed to lead to more questions than answers. The cadets were planning the break-in for the weekend, which gave me little time to prepare.

I needed to gather more information—quickly. But how could I do so without tipping anyone off? Without endangering those I cared about?

My gaze drifted to the faint patterns of frost forming on the windowpane. The night was cold, and so was the pit in my stomach.

Whatever was happening at this academy wasn’t just about the Black Pendant or some forbidden tomes. It was part of something larger, a conspiracy threading its way through the very foundations of the institution.

I closed my eyes, forcing my thoughts to settle. I couldn’t afford to lose focus. I needed a plan, one that accounted for the cadets, the instructor, and the unknown sender of the warning.

I gripped the edge of the desk, my resolve hardening.

No matter how tangled this web became, I would unravel it. For the academy, for Gwen, for everyone who believed in what this place was supposed to stand for.

There was no turning back now. Whatever lay ahead, I would face it. Alone, if I had to.

The weekend was coming. And with it, a storm that I had to prepare for.