I didn’t like the plan.

It wasn’t even much of a plan at all. For a living legend like Waelid, I was a little confused by what he offered. He supposedly had taken down one of these Guardians before, and he definitely stopped the one that was chasing us. So, why did he have little to say about what we were going to do? For a “leader,” he sure was keeping us in the dark.

Waelid’s basic plan went like this:

1. Make contact with the other Houses and form a temporary alliance with them.

2. Scout the Guardian’s movements.

3. Provide backup and let Waelid handle the assault.

Stupid. It was stupid and did not have nearly enough detail. Just what did he mean by letting him handle it? If he could “handle” it on his own, why didn’t he take it out earlier?

—‘Something isn’t adding up here,’ Fern said.

—That’s exactly what I was thinking, Fern. Stay alert, and let me know if you see anything suspicious. I don’t trust this plan, and we need to look out for our classmates and ourselves.

—‘So, do you also not trust the Chapter Master?’ he asked.

—He’s strong, we saw that when we came here, and in the cafeteria, he had incredible speed and power.

—‘But…?’

—It’s like you said, something feels off.

The campfire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the weary faces of my classmates. I sat on a makeshift stool, elbows resting on my knees, as the warmth of the flames fought against the creeping chill of the night. The Cavernous Canopy looked like a beautiful black sea in the dark with the rocky mountains at our back. The blurry shapes of the twin moons shone on the other side of the massive pillar walls that surrounded us. Our little camp sat along the eastern side of the floor, atop the only mountainous range in the Cavernous Canopy.

It was hard to believe that we were one mile high above the academy floor. My feet twisted in the sand, but thousands of feet below them was the labyrinth of the Academy and its many corridors. My knees ached at that thought. I shook the thought away and looked over my classmates… housemates? I should really come up with a better way to group us. Lucius had risen from the bedroll. His gashes were slowly closing, but he was wincing the whole time. The healing process from Ol’ Mumm’s muffins was limited in its capabilities. We still felt the pain even as it healed. Mel, who was covered in thousands of small needle-sized cuts across her body, grumbled as each wound slowly closed. Zenobia had shuffled Tevin over to a bedroll near the fire. Sora was still rubbing tears off her face as she kept inspecting her sister’s missing eye.

“It’ll grow back, right? Right?” Rinka said as she cried into the shoulder of her sister.

“Hey, hey. Don’t worry about me. I’ll stay with you. One eye won’t stop me from staying with you.”

Ruriel coughed. “That’s the attitude to have, twin number two,” he said. “Now you can join the gearhead.” He jabbed his thumb at Silas, who sat on the ground next to me.

Rinka glared at him, “That’s really uncall—”

Sora let out a small laugh. “I guess you’re right. Do you have any room for me in your club, Silas?”

Silas rolled his eyes. “Yeah, we got plenty. Rule one, don’t let jerks tell you what you can’t do or what you are.” He kicked out his shin at Ruriel, who jumped up, dodging the foot. Sora laughed, but then her smile faded just as quickly.

A silence fell over the camp, and a blanket of melancholy covered us. Waelid walked up to the fire and looked around. A bright grin shone on his face.

“House Anu, I can see those long faces, but c’mon, leave it to me. This is child’s play! Trust me, when you’ve got someone like me around, there’s no need to stress. I’ve seen worse situations—much worse—and come out looking like a hero every single time. Do you think this little challenge is gonna take us down? Not with me here. You all just hang back and watch the magic.”

“Is death really ‘child’s play?’” I said under my breath.

“Hey, you all knew that death was part of the game. You’ve lived shit lives already, might as well go out with a bang!” He cracked his knuckles dramatically, throwing a wink at Mel. She shuddered.

Waelid continued. “The way I see it, you’ve got the best possible guy for the job standing right here. No one else could handle this quite like yours truly. Why? Well, in case you’ve forgotten, I’ve taken a Guardian down before.”

Waelid shot a pair of finger guns towards the group. “This is Waelid’s World, folks. I’ve got it under control. You just need to keep up and take notes, alright? Trust me, you’ll want to tell your grandkids about this one.”

No one said anything. Even Fan, his co-captain for this trial, couldn’t muster up the energy to give him a reaction. She lay by the fire on a bedroll, eyes closed, and forehead sweating as the special herbs from the healing muffin worked. Waelid nodded, grinned, and walked away.

He turned back over his shoulder and looked at Fan on the ground. Then he looked at me. “With that said, I’ll go start scouting where the Guardian is and report back. Recruit Erik?”

I snapped my head towards him. “Yes, Chapter Master?”

“You’re in charge for now, watch ‘em until Fan is healed, or I get back,” Waelid said before he hopped down the hill towards the forest.

Waelid left with words that he hoped would assure us—that we had nothing to fear. But as he disappeared into the darkness, a knot tightened in my stomach.

Fan coughed and cried in pain on the bedroll, her shattered clay skin slowly knitting itself back together, thanks to Ol’ Mumm’s healing muffin. The rest of my classmates sat around the fire, tending to their wounds in silence. Though their bodies were healing, the weight of what we’d experienced hung heavily in the air. The news of two students losing their lives to the Guardian had shaken us all. And for the ones that got hurt by the Guardian, they looked even more shocked.

I glanced around. Lucius stared into the fire, his expression unreadable, lost in the flames. Rinka fussed over her twin sister, Sora. Zenobia sat beside Tevin, who lay on the ground. They were whispering between themselves. Mel sharpened her axe with deliberate strokes, her gaze distant. Fear and uncertainty overshadowed the usual camaraderie.

—‘How are we going to face that thing? Look at everyone. They almost died. Sora lost an eye for god’s sake,’ Fern said. He was panicking. The confidence in him was shaken. No matter what strength we had, seeing the aftermath of a Guardian attack shook him.

Everyone was scared. I was scared too. Ever since I came to this world, I’d been overwhelmed. I’d been given a boon of sorts with our “twin-soul” abilities, but that even made me scared I would hurt my classmates. When it came time to use that strength for real, I felt less afraid. But now, the monsters just kept getting worse and worse. This Guardian, it was the worst so far. Worse than the fear I had with Fern’s unstable mom…I didn’t know if I alone could do anything to help turn the tides around.

I shook my head and stood up. Someone had to say something. And this group of teenagers, just kids, weren’t going to pull themselves out of their shock. I wasn’t a leader, I was a grunt employee grinding through multiple jobs to put money on the table for my brother. I didn’t try to rise to the top, I didn’t lead my co-workers in the past. But now, things were different. This group would suffer without true leadership. They were on the edge of breaking.

—What would the heroes in movies or books do, I thought. I pinched my thumb and took a deep breath.

“Hey, everyone,” I began, my voice louder than I intended. Heads turned in my direction, eyes reflecting the firelight. “I know we’re all on edge. Honestly, I’m scared out of my mind. Two students are... gone. That’s not something you just brush off.”

There was a murmur of agreement from Silas, but mostly silence from everyone else.

“I’ve been thinking,” I continued, rubbing the back of my neck. “We’ve all been through some tough times before we got here. Times when we didn’t think we’d make it. But that’s just it, we have all survived our worst days of our life. And this is just another one. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from watching you all this past month, it’s that y’all are survivors. Maybe…” I took a deep breath. My heart drummed in my chest. “Maybe it would help if we talked about those times. Share some of our stories. Might make facing what’s ahead a little less... daunting.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Ruriel snorted softly. “Group therapy session, huh mate?”

I offered him a half-smile. “Something like that. Look, we keep fighting alongside each other, but there’s so much we don’t know. Like, for instance,” I gestured toward Lucius, Rinka, and Sora, “you three seem to have some history. Care to share?”

Rinka exchanged a glance with Sora, who nodded hesitantly. Lucius shifted uncomfortably but didn’t object.

Rinka took a deep breath, wiped her red eyes, and turned towards us. “Well, it’s a long story, but I guess we’ve got time.” She settled closer to the fire, the light illuminating the faint burn scar on her cheek. “Sora and I were born in Khalo, in the service of High-Court Delondra.”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“High-Court Delondra? Do they run the show there?”

Rinka tilted her head at me.

“The Corello boy really knows nothing of Khalo politics, Rinka, you’ll have to explain more,” Lucius said in a less asshole-ish way than normal.

Rinka nodded. “How much should I go into?”

“Give me the cliff notes,” I said.

She looked at me confused. Silas looked back at me. “Cliff notes?”

“Shit, I meant the abridgment.”

“The what?” Mel said across the fire.

I shook my head. “A high-level summary. I’m not well-educated in your fancy capital, as Lucius so politely points out,” I said through gritted teeth.

—Keep cool, Erik, keep it cool. I told myself.

Rinka shrugged and continued. “Khalo—well, Stylos in general—is run in part by the 13 High-Court families. Most of them live and command from their headquarters in the capital, Khalo.”

Lucius interrupted. “The 13 High-Courts control the various economic means of our country.”

“I thought you had some sort of royal governing system here. I keep hearing mentions of the royal family did this, did that, etc.”

“It’s a partnership in a way. The Royal Family controls the strongest mage military in the country, and their blood ties back all the way to the founding of Stylos, some seven hundred years ago. The High-Courts are all descendants of the people who helped the Royal Family take power. Now those families run the governance and economy of the cities across Stylos,” Zenobia spoke up, adding more context.

“Yes, but partnership is a rough word. The High-Courts have been trying to take the power from the Royal Family over the years.”

“I see, ok noted. Sorry, Rinka, continue,” I said, waving my hand at her.

“Our mother was a servant in High-Court Delondra, and our father... well, he was a member of the Delondra family. But when he found out we were Voidbloods like our mother, he... wanted nothing to do with us.”

Sora’s non-patched eye glistened with unshed tears. “He tried to get rid of us. Said we were worthless.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Rinka reached over and squeezed her sister’s hand. “He... he tried to harm us. Our mother specifically, specifically. And then us.” She touched the burn scar on her cheek, and her hand shook. “But Lucius stopped him.”

All eyes turned to Lucius, who stared intently at the ground.

“You?” Mel burst out laughing.

“Yeah, sorry Lucius, but it’s kind of hard to see you being kind. Especially to Rinka and Sora…what happened?” Silas said.

“I was just a kid,” he murmured, pushing back his white hair. “I didn’t understand everything, but I knew it was wrong.”

“Wait, hold on. You stopped them? So were you a servant too?” I asked.

Lucius shuffled his feet and then groaned. “Ugh! Do we really need to go into our pasts like this? Just accept that we are up against a deadly threat and bury the rest. Why do we need to do this?”

“Hey,” Rinka said firmly. “It’s a good idea, now keep going.”

He sighed. “I am a son of the Delondra family…or was, I guess. Now I have no name. Just Lucius.”

“Before he saved us,” Rinka continued, “we grew up alongside Lucius. We played together and learned together. Although we were servant children, he would come down from his room high above us and take us on adventures through the city. We even had fun with his siblings. For a while, it was... nice.”

“What happened?” Zenobia asked softly.

Lucius exhaled slowly. “When my family discovered I was a Voidblood, everything changed. My family claimed I only saved Rinka and Sora because I knew I was a Voidblood too. They claimed I wanted to ‘protect my own.’ My own family, they shunned me. I became... an embarrassment. But an embarrassment in a High-Court can’t just be thrown away like that immediately. I had to continue acting like everything was fine. They told me to just shut up and get in line. From that day when I turned ten and learned I was a Voidblood, I knew I would be sold to come here.” He clenched his fists. “I thought if I acted like them, like High-Court Magebloods, they wouldn’t do that. I thought that if I distanced myself from Rinka and Sora, my family would accept me again. So I treated them poorly. Worse than Rinka and Sora ever deserved.”

There was a heavy silence. Then, Rinka offered a faint smile. “We understood why you did it. Doesn’t make it right, but... we understood why.”

Sora nodded. “You tried to do what we all try to do, survive.”

I felt a pang of empathy hit my stomach. “Damn, I was not expecting that. It sounds like you’ve all been through hell. But Lucius…why do you still treat them like shit, you yell at them all the time like you’re their master.”

“I…do we really need to deep dive into me right now? I don’t know, I just…look I don’t know, I’m sorry!” He sat down and crossed his arms. Clearly, he had more healing to do, but that was for another time.

Zenobia leaned forward, her eyes on Lucius. “I had no idea you went through that. I thought you were a Mageblood the whole time until I saw you three on the wagon that day.”

He looked up, surprised. “You knew me back then?”

She offered a small smile. “We crossed paths a few times. I’m not sure if you remember. My mother was... a companion to Lord Mehmur of High-Court Sesur-Sati. I was a page there.”

Lucius nodded slowly. “I remember now…the concubine’s daughter.”

Rinka slapped his arm. “Lucius,” she hissed.

Zenobia’s gaze dropped. “When they found out I was a Voidblood, they executed my mother. Had me move into the servant quarters, took away my quills, books, and clothes, and handed me a mop and a bucket. They told me then I would either be made a concubine or a Cinder. Either way, my body was sold from me.” Her voice wavered slightly. “All that education, all those expectations, gone in an instant.”

Tevin placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We both lost everything that day.”

“What’s your story, Tevin?” Mel asked, her sharpening paused.

He shrugged. “I was a servant boy in the same court. Did a lot of manual labor. When Zenobia was outcast from her post, she met me. And when she turned sixteen and was sent away to the Cinders, I volunteered to go with her. Figured I could at least be useful to my only friend.”

I smiled. “That’s brave of you.”

He shook his head. “Just seemed like the right thing to do.”

Turning to Ruriel, I asked, “What about you? Did you know anyone here before we met on the caravan?”

Ruriel chuckled dryly. “Nope. But I did hear tales of a certain pit fighter from Lower District Alpha.” He nodded toward Mel. “Heard you were unbeatable. Heard you were a menace over there in that district too.”

Mel smirked. “Those fights were something else. Started when I was ten. Had to make money somehow.”

“Sounds intense,” I commented.

She shrugged. “You do what you have to. Lost my parents young. Ended up with a guy who gave me a roof over my head, but nothing’s free. Fighting was a way to pay my way. Learned not to rely on anyone but myself. I’m not getting into any mushy backstory, move on.”

There was a pause before Ruriel spoke back up. “I grew up in Lower District Epsilon, one of the five ‘slums’ of Khalo. Let’s just say if we had food, it was a good day. My parents were both failed Magebloods. Their skill was minimal, they couldn’t even be accepted into a small mage school. That’s why I was grateful when I found out what I was. Being a Voidblood was a ticket out. Sold myself to help my family. Better than staying and wasting away as an extra mouth to feed.”

I nodded. “You’ve all been through so much.”

“Anyone else want to share?” I asked. “Silas? Vahim? Amani or Habr?”

Silas spoke up next. “Mine’s a pretty simple story. No parents, just showed up one day on a boat as a baby and ended up as a dock slave. When I turned ten, like you all, I was hoping to be a Mageblood. Well, you see how that turned out.” He looked at his mechanical arm and started fiddling with it. He avoided eye contact when he spoke. “Continued my servitude until the city could make some quick coin by selling me, and here I am.”

I patted his back and then looked over to the Veclan kids.

“What about you all? We haven’t bonded as much, but earlier I fought together with Amani and Habr. They are strong, good people. Tell me about your story,” I said.

Vahim cleared his throat. “In Vecla, we have different ways. Magic is... drawn from the land. Amani, Habr, and I couldn’t draw. So we were sent away. No torture like you experience here in Stylos. But we were still sent away.”

Amani nodded. “We stick together. Always.”

Habr added, “And we won’t ever be separated.”

“Are you like siblings?” Mel asked bluntly.

They shook their heads. “We are from the same city in Vecla. We bonded over our differences from the rest of Veclan society.”

I smiled. “Glad to have you with us.”

Time passed as everyone continued to tell more stories of their past, and the journey everyone went on to get to Ash. The Veclans had to fight off giant sea monsters, and their caravan leader, a certain Captain Bartholomew, apparently was a master with the sword. I had not met the man yet, but the stories Vahim was telling had me enthralled. Eventually, Ruriel shifted his attention to me.

“You’ve asked a lot of questions, Erik. What’s your story? What’s your deal?” he said. Everyone stopped sharing and stared at me.

I hesitated, caught off guard. My mind raced. How could I explain that I wasn’t really who they thought I was? That I was a 25-year-old from another world, inhabiting this body? And what about Fern?

Internally, I argued with myself. Maybe it’s best to keep it simple. But they deserve something.

“Well,” I began slowly, “I’m from Corello. Worked in my father’s forge, and was beaten regularly by my mom. Both were Magebloods and my little brother too. But, I don’t remember much about my early past.”

“What’s your family’s name?” Zenobia asked.

“Uh,” I paused.

—‘Landaluce,’ Fern said.

—Why have I never asked that?

—‘A lot has happened. I don’t blame ya,’ Fern said.

“Uh, Landaluce.” I said.

Lucius and Zenobia sat up straight.

“Did you say Landaluce?”

“Um…yes? What? What does that mean to you?”

“You don’t know?” Zenobia asked.

“Of course he doesn’t know, he’s a Voidblood, why would he have been told about something that happened twenty years ago. Why would he have been told anything about the Day of Divide?”

“Whoa, you can’t just start dropping bits of lore like that without telling me. What does that mean?”

“It’s—”

A crack from the forest below made everyone jump. Mel quickly held up her axe and stood ready. Then, Waelid soared up the hill in a long jump, propelled by wind he created with his sword.

“Recruits!” Waelid burst through the forest. “Good news, the Guardian is only staying near the Mouth. So we have time to prepare. Cut the chit-chat and get some sleep. We leave before dawn.”

“Where are we going to go?” Zenobia asked.

“We are going to group up with the other Houses. I have spoken to their leaders already. It’s gonna be a full frontal assault!” Waelid said, pumping his fist in the air.

—I don’t like the idea of that. I thought, seeing my allies’ wounds still healing. Fern, what is the significance of your last name? Why did those two act like that?

—‘I have no idea, mother would never talk about her past, and father just said it was…complicated.’

—Landaluce…Day of Divide. I say we have some research to do when we get back to the library.

—‘If we make it back.’

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

The Next Day

The three Houses stood in a large clearing, tension seemed to envelop all of us. House Anu, led by Waelid and Fan, gathered us recruits behind them in one section of the clearing. We faced House Enlil, led by Jiho and Marcus, whose recovering recruits eyed us warily, some with spite in their eyes. And then there was House Nin, led by Piqah and Barrett they looked serious. It made sense. They had lost two recruits the day before. The group of massive, muscled boys and girls, stood solid and unwavering behind them.

All three Chapter Masters and their co-captains were discussing the strategy against the Guardian. An endless barrage of words bounced between Jiho, Piqah, and Waelid. I stood off to the side, my eyes narrowed with resentment. Not that I expected to be part of the main discussion—but I wanted to be. Instead, the so-called “leaders” debated a plan to continually flank and assault the Guardian, relying on overwhelming force to gain an advantage. Waelid insisted it had no blind spots and was unpredictable, and that our best chance was to wear it down.

“Reckless,” Piqah commented, folding her arms as she listened to Waelid. “Your method is dangerous ‘golden-boy’.”

“Dangerous, but effective,” Waelid countered, the grin on his face as unwavering as his arrogance. “The best offense is constant pressure.”

Jiho sighed but seemed to relent, his eyes glancing over the gathered recruits. “We’ll split into three teams, each with a specific angle of attack. You realize the risk here, don’t you?”

“Risk is part of the job.” Waelid shrugged, clearly unconcerned.

My stomach twisted with unease. Something about this plan felt too reckless, too reliant on blind confidence. I hated it.

Suddenly, a rustle came from the underbrush, and a recruit from House Enlil stumbled through the bushes, panting heavily. His bright green hair caught my eye instantly—it was almost unnaturally vibrant, brighter even than my own.

“The Guardian!” the boy yelled, his voice cracking in panic. “It—it saw me! It followed me here—”

His words were cut short as a black shard burst from the treeline and pierced straight through his chest. His eyes went wide in shock, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly as he slumped to the ground.

The forest erupted into chaos as branches cracked, and the trees split apart like unseen blades had slashed them. Emerging from the darkness, the Guardian burst into the clearing. It was tall and lanky, almost humanoid, with grotesquely long appendages that seemed to blur as they moved. Its face was obscured, nothing more than a swirl of black lines, its fingers elongated into deadly sharp points. It was a different guardian than the one that chased us on the way to Ash.

The clearing filled with horrified screams, but no one moved—frozen in terror as the Guardian stooped down, plunging its sharp fingers again and again and again into the fallen boy’s body, turning the earth beneath him into a darkened, blood-soaked mess. It grabbed his corpse and lifted it, inspecting it, before letting out a bone-chilling screech and flinging it aside like a rag doll.

The creature then turned, its head tilting as it scanned the clearing. My heart froze in my chest, and for a moment, I could have sworn it looked directly at me. There were no eyes that I could see, only that swirling, dark blur where its face should be—but I felt it. Its presence bore into me.

It screamed—a high, piercing sound that reverberated through my entire body.

“Scramble! Improvise!” Waelid shouted laughing like a manic while he drew his crescent scimitar. The runes on the blade glowed. A small whirlwind formed around the scimitar, the wind picking up leaves and dust as Waelid lunged toward the creature with a powerful leap.

The Guardian moved faster than he could have anticipated. Its elongated arm shot out, swatting Waelid aside like an insect. He flew through the air, slamming into a tree with a crack that made my stomach lurch. He crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath, his scimitar skittering away from his hand.

“Waelid I told you. You’re reckless!” Piqah growled, her eyes narrowing. She glanced at Jiho, who nodded, daggers already in his hands.

“Get into positions!” Jiho shouted. Black runes glowed across his daggers, and a thick cloud of dark smoke poured from them, obscuring his figure. He turned to Piqah. “Do your best to hold it off!”

Piqah didn’t hesitate. She roared, her form twisting and expanding, a bright silver glow sketched around her body, her muscles bulging as she shifted into her blood infusion form—a massive, demonic gorilla-like beast with sharp spikes jutting from her back. Her face transformed into a pure white mask adorned with a symbol of an ape.

Fan sprinted toward us, her face pale with fear. “Get back! Form a line!” she yelled, waving her arm to gather us.

But I couldn’t take my eyes off the Guardian. It stared at me, its blurred face somehow still fixated on me, even as it charged toward Piqah. My heart pounded in my ears.

Piqah let out a deafening roar, slamming her fists into the ground as she braced for the impact. The Guardian collided with her, its sharp fingers scraping across her spiked back, but its blurred face—its gaze—never left me.