“What’s going on?” Silas asked, craning his neck.
“Looks like a showdown,” Mel growled, crouching low. Using her small, agile body, she peered through people’s legs.
I exchanged glances with my classmates, and we pushed our way forward. The sea of black and gold uniforms parted just enough to let us squeeze by. Mel led the way, crawling between people as she headed toward a group of students wearing maroon sashes. We found the upperclassmen of House Anu. They greeted us with smiles. Even Fan, the stone-skinned girl, gave me a welcoming nod before she gave a disgusted look.
“Oh, flames,” Fan said, plugging her nose as we approached. “Which class did you come from? You smell awful.”
“Professor Rennal. He sorta drug—“
“No need to say more. I understood the moment you said Rennal. Yeah, good luck with that lunatic.” Fan put some distance between us while holding her nose.
“What’s happening?” Rinka whispered to one of our upperclassmen, a tall boy named Cork.
“Marcus over there is pissed we got picked to leave first in the Practical,” Cork replied, looking down at Rinka and blushing. “It’s a nice advantage for the recruits... well, for you guys. You should be happy. Waelid had to work hard to get you all that spot.”
I looked toward the fight in the middle of the group of people.
In the middle of a large circle of students, Waelid sat casually, cross-legged on a stool, hands in his pockets. Pacing around him was Marcus, a tall upperclassman from House Enlil. He wore a gold and black striped sash—his house colors. His arms were crossed, and a sneer twisted his face. The air was thick with tension.
Marcus’s voice carried over the murmurs. “Twelve students left, Waelid? Is that all your house can muster these days?”
Waelid laughed, shrugging. “Quality over quantity. Sorry, what was your name again, brother?”
Marcus scoffed, ignoring the question. “Quality? Is that what you call running your recruits into the ground? Or maybe it’s your charming personality that drives them to leave. You know our ranks are thin as it is. Is this some sort of game to you?”
A ripple of laughter spread through the Enlil students. I felt a flush of anger rise within me.
—‘This guy’s got some nerve.’ Fern said.
—I won’t say that Waelid’s training wasn’t rough, I thought to Fern. But I thought that’s how all the recruits’ training was. Is that not the case?
I looked across at House Enlil. It seemed they hadn’t lost a single person in their class. There were easily 30 or 35 students. I locked eyes with the girl with straight black hair—the one who had volunteered to switch with me when I requested House Anu. She would be in my place if I hadn’t spoken up.
—Is she doing alright in that house? I wondered.
Mel stepped forward, her fists clenched. “You got something to say about us?”
Marcus’s gaze shifted to her, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Ah, isn’t it your fiery bitch? Right, Waelid? Tell me, how’s that temper working out f—”
Before he could finish, Waelid’s smile vanished. In a blur, he moved—so fast my eyes struggled to track him. One moment, he sat on the stool; the next, he was inches from Marcus.
A collective gasp rose from the crowd.
Waelid delivered a single, precise punch to Marcus’s midsection. The upperclassman’s eyes bulged as he was lifted off his feet, hurtling backward until he slammed into the cafeteria wall. Plates and trays clattered to the ground.
Silence fell.
Students stared mouths agape. Even the usual hum of the cafeteria machinery seemed to pause.
Waelid straightened his jacket and flipped his coat back. His smile returned as if nothing had happened. He glanced over to where Jiho, the Chapter Master of House Enlil, stood observing with a detached expression.
“Sorry about that, Jiho,” Waelid called out cheerfully. “Got a bit carried away.”
Jiho met his gaze and shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me.”
Without another word, Jiho turned and walked away, his entourage following like shadows.
Marcus groaned, struggling to his feet. No one from House Enlil moved to help him.
Waelid clapped his hands together. “Okay, that’s settled. Anyone hungry?” He looked around, his eyes landing on us. “Erik, Mel, Zenobia—all of you—care to join us for lunch?” He motioned to move two large rectangular tables together and waved us to sit near him and the other upperclassmen.
Mel’s eyes were wide. “You... you just...”
“Just what?” Waelid asked innocently.
Zenobia shook her head in disbelief. “You sent him flying across the room.”
“Did I?” Waelid glanced over his shoulder. “Oh dear, I suppose I did. Must be all that weightlifting Marcus was talking trash about.”
A few chuckles from the other House Anu members broke the tension. Slowly, conversations resumed, and the crowd dispersed. Some students shot wary glances our way; others whispered among themselves. The rest of our house carried on like nothing had happened. House Anu didn’t care what the other houses thought.
We filled our trays, the aroma of spiced meats and fresh bread momentarily distracting me from the earlier confrontation. I made my way back to the table and sat next to my roommates.
Tevin leaned over. “Did you see the look on Marcus’s face? Priceless!”
Ruriel laughed and took an aggressive bite of a spiced chicken leg. “I don’t think anyone will be bothering our house as long as we have the Chapter Master around.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Lucius said. “People like him hold grudges. I know—I used to be like him.”
“You sure you still aren’t?” I teased. Lucius pretended to throw his drink at me but then cracked a small smile.
We continued eating and conversing with our housemates. It was a pleasant pause as anticipation of the trial bubbled with anxiety in my stomach.
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Walking to our next class, Beast Mastery, I felt a surge of determination. With a leader like Waelid, we could survive anything. He may have put us through hellish training, but it hardened us to withstand whatever came our way.
—Now, if I could only not get squeamish when I see blood again.
The sight of blood always made me feel nauseous. I’d felt that way ever since the car crash involving my parents. I’m not used to so much violence, especially after trying to avoid it in the past, but Stylos has been different. One might expect that all the video games and history I’d consumed would have made me indifferent, but it didn’t. It was one of those things I didn’t take seriously when I first arrived in this fantasy-like world. Bloodshed will happen.
The afternoon sun filtered through the corridor windows, casting long shadows. As we stepped into the light and headed to Beast Mastery, I shielded my eyes.
A warm glow enveloped the Beast Grounds. The covered barn and open-air grazing areas buzzed with activity.
Older students brushed a six-legged horse with two heads while three large oxen with sharp, tiger-like claws scratched at what looked like the world’s largest scratching post.
The moment we stepped inside the barn, a pungent smell hit us. The mix of animal scents was overwhelming. I plugged my nose, but over time, I got used to it.
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Professor Herman stood at the center of the barn, his bushy mustache twitching with enthusiasm. Beside him stood Al, who gave us a big smile and wave.
“Gather ‘round, everyone!” Herman’s voice boomed. “Today, we’ll tackle one of the most crucial skills for any aspiring Cinder: calming enraged beasts.”
I exchanged a glance with Tevin.
“Enraged beasts?” Tevin whispered, eyes wide. “Sounds exciting!” He was practically shaking with excitement. The kid loved animals. Behind him, Habr looked equally thrilled, his fingers twitching, ready to jump in.
Herman gestured to a reinforced enclosure where a massive Razorback Boar paced restlessly, its tusks glinting and eyes glowing an unnatural red. “Meet Bruno,” Herman said fondly. “Normally a gentle soul, but under an enraging elixir, he’s a tad... irritable.”
“Hey, that’s not right,” Tevin protested.
“Sorry, lad. Sometimes, you gotta do these things to learn more. He’ll be okay, I promise.” Al patted Tevin’s shoulder.
Bruno let out a guttural snort, scraping the ground with his hoof.
“He doesn’t look too happy,” I muttered.
—I’d say that’s an understatement.
Al stepped forward, holding a slender wooden flute. “We’ll demonstrate three techniques to pacify such beasts,” he said softly.
“Technique one: Soothing Melody,” Herman announced.
Al raised the flute to his lips, playing a gentle, flowing tune. The melody floated across the grounds like a calming breeze. Bruno’s pacing slowed; the red glow in his eyes faded back to their natural hue.
“Music can influence a creature’s emotional state,” Herman explained. “The right frequency with this special flute can alleviate stress and aggression. You’ll all be given one. I recommend practicing immediately. You never know when you might need it.”
Al then gave Bruno a treat, causing his eyes to rage again. Bruno began grunting and charging into the cage walls.
Herman prepared a herbal concoction. “Technique two: Herbal Sedatives,” he said, mixing powdered herbs into a bowl. He loaded the mixture into a blowdart and, with precise aim, shot the sedative into Bruno. Moments later, Bruno yawned widely and settled down to rest.
“Effective,” Ruriel remarked beside me.
“But what if we don’t have instruments or sedatives?” Rinka asked.
“Excellent question!” Herman beamed. “That’s where Technique three comes in Empathic Connection.”
We moved to the next enclosure. Al approached a restless lynx, matching its pacing and mirroring its movements. He stared deeply into its eyes. Gradually, the lynx’s agitation eased, and it approached him calmly.
“By establishing rapport through body language, you can gain a creature’s trust,” Herman said.
He clapped his hands. “Now, pair up and practice these techniques!”
Tevin and I chose to try Empathic Connection with a pair of Moon Rabbits—skittish creatures with oily, rainbow-like luminous fur. We mimicked their gentle hops and head tilts. It felt a bit silly, but soon the rabbits grew calmer, hopping closer.
“Looks like it’s working,” Tevin whispered.
“It’s just like how I bonded with my pets back in the day,” I smiled.
Nearby, Mel and Silas attempted the Soothing Melody. Mel hummed—slightly off-key—and Silas played an untuned flute. Their Fuzz Sparrow, a large dog-sized bird, wasn’t impressed and resorted to pecking. After Al helped retrieve the bird, Mel and Silas argued until Al intervened again to break up their fight.
When the bells signaled the change of classes, Herman reminded us, “These skills may very well save your lives in the Pillar. Enraged beasts are common on the first level. Understanding them gives you an edge.”
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In History and Strategy class, we were puzzled by our professor’s transformation.
At the front stood Professor Gallon. Today, she looked entirely different. Her previously unkempt, frizzy blue hair was straightened, cascading down her back. Sleek glasses perched on her nose, and she wore a neatly pressed military dress uniform adorned with medals. It was odd to believe, given her behavior the previous day, but today, Gallon wore a serious expression that commanded attention.
Mel leaned over to me, her voice barely above a whisper. “Waelid told me that Gallon’s mood swings are because of an infusion gone wrong. She can be unpredictable.”
I raised an eyebrow. “An infusion?”
“Beats me. I thought maybe one of you dorks would know.”
“How would I know about infusions? And why are we dorks? School just started.”
Before Mel could reply, Professor Gallon turned sharply, her gaze piercing. “Did you say infusion?”
Mel’s eyes widened. “Uh, yes, Professor.”
I cleared my throat. This was my chance to get more information about what Pestil suggested happened to Fern and me.
“We’ve heard about infusions from upperclassmen,” I said. “Could you tell us more about them, please?”
Gallon studied us for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Very well. It’s important you understand.”
She tapped a crystal on her desk, and the room dimmed. Holographic projections sprang to life above us—a mesmerizing display of the Pillar, its ten levels spiraling upward into the unknown.
“Today,” she began, her voice measured and clear, “we delve into the true nature of the Pillar and the opportunities—and dangers—it presents.”
The projections shifted, highlighting the first level. “Each floor of the Pillar is a world unto itself, filled with creatures both wondrous and perilous.”
Images of beasts appeared alongside the projected Pillar—some majestic, others terrifying.
“To survive and progress,” Gallon continued, “one must adapt. For those who prove themselves capable of ascending past Level One, there’s the reward of power through the process of blood infusion.”
I felt Fern sit up in the back of my mind.
—This is it. A way we could learn more about how to free ourselves or gain power. Pay close attention in case I miss something. I said to Fern.
—‘Absolutely.’
“Blood infusion is a ritual granting enhanced abilities,” she explained. “You may have been told your whole life that Voidbloods can never be strong. This is not true. Through the gift of the Pillar and strength, speed, and compatibility, we can obtain powers strong enough to fight back.”
“It involves the blood of a magical beast and a blood crystal.”
An image of a shimmering red crystal appeared among the holograms.
“These crystals are unique to the Pillar. They cannot leave its barrier; if they do, they crumble. This is why Magebloods can’t use them. The material simply disappears whenever it’s taken outside the Pillar’s influence,” she said. “When combined with a beast’s life essence, they can amplify your abilities.”
Ruriel raised his hand. “How does the process work exactly?”
“The infusion must occur at the moment of the beast’s death as its heart makes its final beats,” Gallon replied. “Delay even a moment, and the vitality needed fades, which can have... heavy consequences.”
—She’s speaking from experience, I said quietly in my head.
—‘I wonder what happened to her.’
A heavy silence settled over the room.
I broke it with another question. “Will we learn this ritual?”
Gallon met my gaze. “Only those who pass the upcoming Practical. It’s a privilege earned, not given lightly.”
I exchanged a glance with Silas. He looked nervous and glanced away.
Gallon continued, detailing each level of the Pillar—the Crystal Labyrinth with its deceptive pathways, the Shifting Sands where the ground itself moved like a living creature. Holograms illustrated her words, making the Pillar feel both enchanting and ominous.
“Remember,” she concluded, “knowledge is your greatest weapon. Prepare well; the challenges ahead will test your strength, wisdom, and resilience.”
As the lights brightened, she asked, “Any final questions?”
Before any of us could ask, the bell rang. I closed my notebook full of notes about the Pillar and hurried after my classmates.
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The Artifact Engineering workshop stood apart from the other buildings—a dome-shaped structure of gleaming metal and glass reflecting the amber hues of the setting sun before the shadow of the Pillar covered it. Inside, the air buzzed with energy. Tables cluttered with gears, coils, and mysterious contraptions filled the space, and the scent of oil mingled with the hum of machinery.
At the front stood Professor Twinges—his nonchalant attitude irked me. Goggles perched atop his head, and his grease-stained fingers gestured excitedly. Despite his small stature, he commanded the room.
“Welcome, kids,” he said. “Today, you will build a tool that will either save your life... or kill you.”
Silas grinned beside me. “This should be interesting.”
Professor Twinges pulled a cloth off a table to reveal a sleek, arm-mounted device made of polished metal with intricate engravings. A coiled cable ended in a sharp, retractable, claw-like grappling hook.
He sighed deeply. “Behold, the key to scaling new heights—literally,” he announced. “You will each construct your very own grapple cannon.”
Excitement spread through the class.
“These devices will allow you to traverse difficult terrains, ascend unreachable places, and perhaps even save your lives in the depths of the Pillar,” he continued.
He handed out kits containing metal casings, gears, springs, cables, and detailed schematics. “Follow the instructions carefully. Oh, and feel free to personalize your grapplers—make them extensions of yourselves.”
We settled at our workstations, spreading out the pieces and studying the schematics—complex but manageable.
“Need any help?” I asked Silas, noticing his mechanical arm whirring as he examined the parts.
He smirked. “I was about to ask you the same.”
We chuckled and dove into the assembly.
After some time, I secured the final piece—the grappling hook with collapsible claws. “Moment of truth,” I muttered.
I slid the grapple gauntlet on and tightened the straps. A metal handle popped out that I held onto.
Aiming at a testing pillar, I pressed the activation switch. A satisfying thwip sounded as the hook embedded securely. I pressed the retracting button and jumped. I was drawn through the air toward the point where I had fired the grapple. For a moment, I felt like I was flying.
Below, Professor Twinges applauded. “Excellent work! Now, safely return to the ground, please.”
Other classmates practiced their grappling hooks, too. We were like twelve spiders dancing from blade to blade of grass.
When class wrapped up, Twinges gathered us. “You’re likely wondering why we’re crafting these now,” he said with a wink. “Your Chapter Master has plans for you tonight. These devices will come in handy.”
“What’s happening tonight?” Ruriel asked.
Twinges smiled mysteriously. “All in good time. Just be prepared.”
Outside, the sky deepened to shades of purple and gold. Mel slung her grappler over her shoulder. “Think Waelid’s going to have us scale a mountain?”
“Wouldn’t put it past him,” I replied.
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That night, just as Professor Twinges said, Waelid gathered us after dinner and led us deep into the school.
We set off, climbing stairs for a good thirty minutes. When we reached a certain height, we headed toward the center of the Pillar. The only rooms here were storage closets for the winter season.
The path inclined steadily. Waelid led the way, setting a brisk but manageable pace.
“So, what’s this all about?” Lucius ventured after a while.
Waelid glanced back. “Patience, Lucius. All will be revealed soon.”
After what felt like an hour, the landscape opened up. We emerged onto a plateau deep inside the Pillar. It offered a breathtaking view. Before us stood a tall platform that jutted off the ground, above, I could see the inside of the massively tall Pillar.
“Welcome,” Waelid announced, “to the Mouth of the Pillar.”
Waelid gestured grandly. “In three days, we’ll return here to enter the Pillar. This is where we’ll begin our ascent—to fight for the truth and find whatever they want us to in the scavenger hunt!”
Inside, the space expanded into a vast cavernous chamber. Blue luminescent crystals lined the walls, casting an ethereal glow. The ceiling soared high above, disappearing into darkness.
But it was the center that drew our eyes—a massive hollow shaft stretching upward beyond sight. It was as if someone had hollowed out Baldred’s Pillar itself.
I stepped to the edge of a wide balcony overlooking the central shaft. Peering upward, I saw layers upon layers—the Floors of the Pillar. It was like looking at a sliced, layered cake.
“Wow,” Mel whispered beside me. “It’s... endless.”
Waelid joined us at the railing. “Impressive, isn’t it? Just wait until you learn more about the history of this bad boy. You just gotta catch Gallon on her good days.”
He gave a quick wink.
“It’s beyond words,” Zenobia breathed.
He nodded thoughtfully. “Each Floor is a world unto itself. The first, known as the Cavernous Canopy, awaits just above.”
He pointed upward. Far above, I could make out a lush, verdant expanse. Trees of immense size sprawled across the interior walls, their canopies forming a dense jungle. Waterfalls cascaded from unseen sources, their mist catching the light in shimmering veils. Birds and other winged creatures flitted between branches, their calls echoing melodiously.
“The Cavernous Canopy,” Waelid continued, “is a rainforest teeming with life—and filled with death.”
“What’s that layer above it?” Silas asked, squinting.
Just visible through a layer of mist was another Floor. This one glittered as though made of glass or crystal.
“That,” Waelid said, “is the Crystal Labyrinth. A maze of reflective surfaces and tunnels. It’s easy to get lost if you’re not careful. It’s also the best place to harvest Pillardust.”
—It’s like the Pillar holds entire worlds within.
—And each one will probably have its challenges.
I tried to peer higher, but a thick layer of clouds obscured the view.
“What lies beyond the second Floor?” Rinka inquired.
Waelid smiled enigmatically. “Mysteries for another time. Few have ventured beyond the fourth Floor and returned to tell the tale.”
“Why are you showing us this now?” Tevin asked.
Waelid faced us, his expression earnest. “Because I want you to understand what you’re striving for. The Practical isn’t just a test; it’s the first step into this vast unknown. Knowing what’s ahead can boost your confidence.”
Mel straightened. “We won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t,” Waelid replied warmly. “We’ve trained hard for this.”
He turned to face us fully. “We may be fewer in number, but that can be our advantage. We move swiftly, support each other, and adapt.”
We all nodded in agreement.
“Three days,” Waelid declared. “You have three days to get mentally ready. You’re already physically ready—I trained you for that, and you survived. You can do this.
“If you haven’t been paying attention in class yet, now is the time to do so. These professors are the ones proctoring the test. If you’re well-trained and realize that, you’ll pass. The house that wins gets a very special prize.”
Waelid leaned in and pulled out a drawing of a bird in blue flame.
“The winner gets the blood infusion for the legendary-level Blue Phoenix.”
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Three days later, we stood in the same spot as that night. We looked up at the chasm above and the interior of the Pillar. Its massive size made my knees shake.
—You’ve got this. Focus, I told myself and Fern.
“Ready up!” Waelid shouted orders at us. We held up our gauntlets and pointed them to the location he marked on the map the day before.
“Launch!” Waelid commanded. I fired my gauntlet, and we flew up into the Cavernous Canopy.