Dirt and splinters from fallen trees exploded around me as Piqah and the Guardian collided, knocking each other back and covering us in brown and red soil.
The Chapter Master’s gorilla form towered fifty feet tall before us as she regained her balance. Her black and silver hair shone like a mirror in the sunlight. Piqah slid her foot back and launched herself toward the Guardian, leaving a small crater and another spray of dirt in her wake.
“Get down!” Fan screamed, limping toward the tree line behind us. A splinter had pierced her leg, causing the surrounding skin to crack like broken pottery. The recruits immediately turned and ran with her, urgency gripping us all.
As the ground shook violently beneath our feet, I glanced beyond Fan to see the Guardian charging at Piqah. Its arms were angled back, and small black blades sprouted from its palms like sinister thorns. Piqah bellowed and slammed her shoulder into the Guardian’s chest. The creature roared in pain, twisting backward. Suddenly, two extra limbs sprouted from its back, catching itself in a spider-like stance. But Piqah was relentless. She rushed forward as the monster rose, grabbed its head, crouched low, and leaped into the air. Twisting mid-flight, she held the beast in a headlock.
THUD.
She landed heavily, shaking the ground like a falling tree. The monster squirmed beneath her, screeching in fury.
“Erik!” Silas shouted from behind me.
His voice snapped me out of my trance. Realizing I had been standing exposed, I turned and sprinted toward him.
“Thanks, got distracted,” I said as I caught up to him. Together, we joined the rest of the recruits and Fan at the tree line, seeking cover behind the thick trunks.
Behind us, another piercing screech filled the air. Risking a glance, I ducked behind a bush and saw the Guardian had impaled Piqah’s arms with its black blades. The giant gorilla grunted in pain, pulling the obsidian shards from her massive forearms. Despite her injuries, she stood firm. However, the Guardian appeared unharmed, its gaze now fixated on me. Shadowy tendrils shook from its face, and a chill ran down my spine.
I felt nauseous under its stare. Quickly, I crept back behind the tree, trying to avoid its sight. Beside me, Silas looked from the Guardian back to me; concern etched on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, the Guardian let out another screech.
VRRREEEE
I peeked around the tree to see Jiho had struck the Guardian’s ankle, causing black and purple blood to spray out. The House Enlil Chapter Master stood taller than before. His body was enveloped in dark smoke. He wore a white mask bearing the symbol of a shadow. With swift movements, Jiho dove from the dark fog sliced the monster’s back, and vanished into the mist once more.
I heard a cough and turned to see Lucius leaning against a tree, clutching his side.
“Shit,” he muttered. “I think those special muffins are wearing off. It’s not healing as quickly. Towel, bandage, anything, please?” Bright red blood trickled between his fingers as he held out his hands, expecting help.
Black mist spread across the ground, rising to our thighs.
“Can’t rely on those all the time,” Rinka said, approaching Lucius with fresh gauze and Pillardust. She began wrapping his wound.
“Should have brought more,” Lucius winced as Rinka tightened the bandage.
“Actually, that wouldn’t have mattered because—” Silas began, but Fan cut him off.
“Quiet!” Fan snapped. She had pulled the splinter from her leg and applied Pillardust to the minor wound. “We need to stay out of the Chapter Masters’ way.” Her black eyes were wide with terror as she looked across the battlefield.
The black mist was now up to our waists. Looking back to the battle, I saw Jiho’s shadowy figure darting across the field, striking the Guardian’s blind spots like black lightning. With every move, dark mist trailed off him, spreading across the ground and slowly obscuring the battlefield.
“What the hell is his plan—engulf the entire forest?” Mel whispered beside me, staring into the clearing. She tightened her grip on her axe. Anger and frustration flashed in her eyes.
“Simple,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “For cover.”
As the black mist rose to our chests, the Guardian appeared covered in dark purple blood. It had stopped attacking. Piqah charged the beast once more. She seemed determined to end it.
“Group up! With your house, with your house!” Barrett called out from nearby. He and the House Nin recruits huddled together twenty-five yards away, A few held up small shields.
“You heard him,” Marcus—the House Enlil co-captain we beat down the other day—shouted from even farther behind us.
“Defense wielders! Orders!” Fan shouted, her gaze darting between the three houses. “Use your shields, block the blades! Remember your grapple gauntlets. Survive!”
—‘What are they talking about? It looks like they are winning,’ Fern said inside my mind.
I squinted, pushing my vision to see farther. Just as we had enhanced our hearing against the Scrollguard, I gambled on testing more senses. Straining, I urged my eyes forward. Muscles pulled and tugged behind them; my neck twitched, and my eyes ached. But it worked. My sight sharpened, focusing on distant details as if zooming in. I saw the Guardian’s shadowy tendrils on its face begin to glow ominously. Its stopped body began to move. Piqah was about to collide with it. The white-spiked gorilla looked terrifying.
—No, this is just phase one, I told Fern, realization dawning.
“RUN!” she bellowed through her white mask, slamming her fist into Guardian with all her might.
The ground shook, and a loud thud reverberated in the air. The mangled, shadowy creature absorbed each blow, seemingly unaffected by Piqah’s attacks. It began to hum, and small black blades sprouted from its arms. Its body bulked up, its joints extended and cracked, and an almost invisible silver robe materialized around it, shimmering in the dark fog.
Jiho’s black mist enveloped us up to our chins now. Across the field, I watched as House Enlil’s Chapter Master darted in and out of the dark mist like a predator, slicing his blades across the Guardian’s growing body faster and faster. Yet, the Guardian didn’t buckle. Instead, it screeched and spun, knocking Piqah back and Jiho to the side. It hurled dozens of black blades at them both. Jiho dove into the mist and disappeared. Piqah wasn’t as lucky.
She raised her massive arms in defense as the blades collided with her, piercing her hands, stomach, and legs. Piqah groaned and stumbled to the ground, the impact shaking the earth. She curled up, and the ivory spikes that grew on her back snapped off, emitting a white and green glow. The cuts on her body began to heal, and the blood on the ground returned to her. But the spikes remained broken stumps. Struggling to stand, Piqah looked vulnerable for the first time.
The Guardian seized the opportunity. It dashed toward her, its tentacled face now a reflective gray. Raising its hand, it slammed into Piqah’s body with immense force. She gasped as the air was knocked from her lungs. The guardian then flung her colossal form toward us, accompanied by hundreds of obsidian blades.
“Watch out!” I yelled instinctively. I aimed my grapple gauntlet at a distant tree, fired, and activated the retractor, pulling myself to safety just as Piqah crashed through the trees we’d been using for cover. The ground quaked beneath us, debris flying in all directions.
“Get focused!” Fan shouted from a nearby treetop. She had taken refuge above, her leg wound hastily bandaged. Despite her injury, her voice carried authority. Like Lucius, her healing wasn’t as fast anymore.
Below, the Guardian swiped at the ground, flinging thin shards of black glass at Jiho. The Chapter Master dodged expertly, but his space was shrinking rapidly. The black mist he had conjured was fading faster than it formed, leaving him exposed. Shards protruded from the ground like corn stalks poking through the diminishing mist.
Suddenly, a heavy gust of wind blew through the clearing, dispersing the rest of Jiho’s mist almost instantly. Exposed and vulnerable, he sprinted in a zigzag pattern as the Guardian swung its hand down. Hundreds of black blades flew at him—most missing, but some finding their mark and striking his back.
Without warning, a wall of small twisters blasted past Jiho, knocking him down and deflecting the remaining obsidian shards. I looked up to see Waelid soaring through the air, his scimitar glowing bright white, the runes shimmering with an intense blue. He swung his blade into the Guardian’s chest, spilling dark purple blood.
“Damn you, Waelid!” Jiho shouted as he scrambled to his feet. His black mist was gone. Blown away by Waelid’s strike.
Furious winds blew from Waelid’s sword, creating focused tempests that tore through the battlefield. The Guardian’s body contorted, its limbs reaching out to grab Waelid. He pulled his blade free and flipped backward onto the ground, maintaining distance.
The creature reeled, and a deafening screech echoed through the forest once more. The sound was unbearable. We clapped our hands over our ears, but the bone-rattling scream was so sharp that several recruits cried out in pain. Above us, a girl fell from her position in the trees—the girl with black hair who had volunteered to switch Houses with me. She hit the ground hard, letting out a pained scream. Her ankle was twisted at an unnatural angle.
The Guardian’s gaze snapped toward her, its eyes—or what passed for them—burning with malevolence. Raising its hands, its arms morphed once again into hundreds of thin black blades, all aimed at the defenseless girl. She tried to stand but collapsed back to the ground. She looked up—not at her housemates, but directly at me.
“Help,” The black-haired girl whispered, not in a scared way, but…like she was waiting for me.
Without hesitation, I leaped from my perch in the tree toward her. Time seemed to slow as I landed hard, but I stayed on my feet. Rushing over, I extended my bo staff to her. She grabbed it. I called out to Fern with urgency.
—Give me all your strength! I pleaded, feeling a surge of energy course through me.
Twisting my hips, I swung the bo staff with all my might, using it to launch the girl back up into the treetops. Her housemates reached out, catching her as she ascended. Relief washed over me, but it was short-lived. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Guardian dash toward me, its bladed fist pulled back. I realized, fear shooting across my goosebumps that I was its next target.
Waelid summoned a gust of wind beneath him, creating a small floating cloud. He swung his sword, and with a grin, he pushed himself away, leaving me to fend for myself.
—What the f-
It swung its arm toward me as it barreled forward with terrifying speed.
I tried to move, but it was too late—the blades were already flying.
—No! Fern yelled inside my mind.
Desperation took over. I held out my staff, hoping to block or deflect the incoming attack. Suddenly, a force pulled away from my chest. The world around me seemed to slow to a crawl. Sound became distorted, a low hum replacing the cacophony of battle. My vision blurred, and I could only see within a few feet around me.
I watched in disbelief as, one by one, the black glass blades struck the dirt around me. Every single one missed, embedding harmlessly in the ground. In front of me, a faint blue translucent figure appeared, standing protectively. It was only there for a moment, but I felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity and comfort.
Then, as the last obsidian blade embedded beside me, the chaotic battle resumed in full force, and the figure vanished.
The Guardian screeched again, frustrated. I plugged my ears, watching as the Guardian thrashed in anger. Then, amid its frenzy, Jiho and Waelid seized the opportunity. Together, they cleaved one of its feet clean off. Black mist poured from the severed leg, but the Guardian didn’t fall. Instead, it vibrated violently, preparing for another attack.
—Again? I gotta find a way out, I thought urgently.
Scrambling, I aimed and fired my grapple gauntlet at a nearby tree, hoping to escape. But the bolt froze in midair. All sound ceased, and time stood still. Panic surged as I tried to move my legs, but they were stuck—glued to the ground. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. I couldn’t move my body, but I could move my eyes. I looked up at the other recruits; they were frozen, too. I saw Silas above in the trees, his hand extended toward me, mouth open in a silent shout.
Suddenly, my ears vibrated with a thousand drumbeats. My movement returned; my grapple retracted back into the gauntlet. I heard everyone screaming at each other. I looked back at the Guardian, only to feel a force lifting me off the ground.
My body rose into the air, weightless. Silas was screaming for me, but I couldn’t make out what. I turned to see the Guardian’s arms raised. Its twisted shadow face fixated on me with an intensity that made my blood run cold.
“DIE, STRANGER,” a dark voice growled. My joints ached as an unseen pressure squeezed me. Higher and higher, I was lifted, the battlefield shrinking below.
I tried to turn back toward my friends. But in that fleeting moment, I saw the girl with black hair watching me thoughtfully as I was launched into the sky. Time seemed to resume its normal pace, and the world blurred around me as I hurtled upward.
I soared above the trees, climbing higher and higher. Sound returned first—a fierce whooshing of wind tearing past my ears. Awareness flooded back; my stomach lurched, and my heart pounded in my throat. I wanted to scream, but the sheer speed stole the breath from my lungs.
—‘We’re gonna die!’ Fern shouted in my mind.
I ignored him. Everything felt out of control, but I couldn’t let panic consume me. Twisting mid-air, I looked down as the first floor unfolded beneath me—a vast expanse stretching endlessly. The terrarium-like landscape spread out, the clearing where the Guardian had blasted me now a mere dot lost in the immensity.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Above me, the ceiling of the floor loomed, a sky of stone adorned with hanging trees and vines, reminiscent of Professor Rennal’s class when he drugged us. Reaching the peak of my ascent, I stretched out, fingertips brushing the dangling foliage before gravity reclaimed me.
—Think, think, think! I told myself. The interior wall of the Pillar loomed ahead, approaching fast. Options were scarce.
I twisted around and aimed my grapple gauntlet at an upcoming tree. One shot—that’s all I had.
—Time it right, I told myself.
—And...
—Now!
I fired the gauntlet. The hook sailed through the air, embedding in the tip of an upside-down tree. My momentum swung me forward violently. I pressed the retract button, trying to slow down.
CRACK!
The treetop snapped. I slammed into the wall, the impact jolting through me like a lightning bolt. Pain exploded in my shoulder as I bounced off the unforgiving stone. Then, I plummeted hundreds of feet toward the ground. The wind roared in my ears, the world spinning chaotically.
Darkness enveloped me.
——
I awoke to the evening sky, the twin moons casting a pale teal light over the landscape. My face was pressed against the transparent wall of the Pillar, gazing out across the countryside a mile below. Stars speckled the horizon, and the distant mountains we’d crossed on our journey to Ash were faint silhouettes against the darkening sky.
Aching all over, I lay there, every movement sending shards of pain through my body. My leg throbbed painfully—I was too afraid to look.
—It’s gotta be broken, I thought.
—‘Where... where are we?’ Fern’s voice was weak, tinged with concern.
—I don’t know. Far from the Guardian. And everybody else.
—‘Do you think everyone else is okay?’
I hesitated.
—I don’t know...
Gathering my will, I pushed myself up, trying to turn my head. Pain shot down my spine like a bolt of electricity.
—Something’s broken, I realized, gritting my teeth. I gently touched my ribs, and they were sore. Most likely bruised, at worst, broken.
Reaching out, I tried to grab my bo staff but felt nothing. Memories flashed of the Guardian’s attack—the force, the helplessness.
—Oh, right, I remembered grimly. Probably broken.
I pressed my hand against the interior wall of the Pillar to steady myself. My palm slipped, leaving a streak of red blood smeared across the translucent surface and causing me to slam my shoulder into the clear wall.
Stumbling but keeping balance, I moved forward, hoping someone was nearby. Maybe someone else was blown far away and survived. The night was loud and filled with nocturnal creatures and insects having their nightly symphony.
Eventually, the twin moons rose higher, their light illuminating the first floor in a pale teal glow. Shadows stretched and shifted as I limped along, keeping the wall of the Pillar on my left. The terrain was uneven, rocks and roots threatened to trip me with every step.
After what felt like hours of limping and fighting the urge to give up, a fresh scent reached me—the unmistakable aroma of meat roasting on a campfire. My stomach growled, hunger gnawing at me. Then, a quiet song played in the air. Someone was up ahead. And that person was a musician?
—Do you smell that? Do you HEAR that? I asked Fern.
—‘I do. Be cautious, Erik.’
—They are playing music, how bad could they be?
Holding a hand against the wall, I followed the melody—a melancholy tune played on a string instrument. It sounded reminiscent of Asian traditional music I’d heard in old movies and documentaries.
—Now, how is that possible? Greek writing in rune textbooks? Is Asian music being played? The connections were becoming more and more apparent.
—‘I don’t trust this at all,’ Fern said, his tone wary.
—If I wasn’t in such pain, I’d be excited to meet whatever strange character is up there, I replied.
—‘What do you mean, excited? This is some sort of trap.’
—Who knows Fern? But right now, do we have any other choice? We flew across the entire floor and somehow survived with just a broken leg. Do you really think our luck is so bad that this mysterious place is a trap? I say we count our blessings.
Fern stayed silent.
I sighed. Fern’s caution was justified, but desperation pushed me forward. My leg protested with every step, the broken bone making me shuffle awkwardly.
Desperation and curiosity drove me as I continued. The music grew louder. Soon, I spotted a small opening carved into the wall—a cave entrance framed by smooth stone.
When I looked out from the side of the wall, I realized the Pillar extended outward here, forming a ledge or balcony. This section was cut out from the main wall, an architectural anomaly.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside the hole. The ground beneath my feet transitioned from dirt to cobblestone. The air inside was warmer, carrying the scents of wood smoke and burning meat.
I walked down a narrow hallway. The walls were plain stone walls, and there was no source of light was small yellow glowing rocks embedded in the stone flooring. The music echoed gently, guiding me forward. After a few moments, I reached a set of stairs leading upward. I began to climb, and finally, after ascending about a hundred steps, I emerged into a dimly lit chamber.
Curved ceilings arched overhead, and slender red pillars lined the perimeter. Each pillar held a larger yellow glowing stone that illuminated the room. At the center, a campfire crackled in a stone pit. A small featherless bird grilled on a spit above the fire, the aroma was mouthwatering.
Behind the fire sat an old man inside a massive metal jar turned on its side—a large cauldron of sorts. He reclined on a small pad of cloth, strumming a long-stringed instrument. Each twang resonated with clarity, the notes echoing softly in the curved space.
Without looking up, he spoke.
“Come in, boy. Don’t stand there in the doorway—you’re ruining the acoustics.”
I hesitated, surprised.
“Well, are you coming or not?” he added, plucking another string.
Gathering myself, I stepped forward into the chamber.
“Sorry to intrude,” I began, my voice hoarse.
He waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense. Encounters I have are rare but always welcome. Have a seat.” He continued playing out his song.
I approached cautiously, the warmth of the fire sooth my skin. As I drew nearer, I could see the man’s features more clearly. His hair was a wild split mane of black and white cascading down to his shoulders. His eyes had no iris and were pale white, the exact opposite of Fan’s all-black ones. He had a wild, unkept-looking beard. He had no shirt, only a small cloth that hardly covered him. He was skinny, and his bones poked through his skin. He finished his song and set his instrument aside.
“You’re injured,” he observed, glancing at my leg.
“Yeah,” I said. “Took a bit of a fall.”
He chuckled. “It was more than a bit. Now, if I must ask you to sit one more time, I am afraid I will no longer offer any food. Disobedient dogs miss meals provided.”
I eased myself down onto the ground opposite him, suppressing a groan as my leg protested. I kicked it out in front of me and dragged up my torn pant leg. My shin was bright pink, and the bone behind my shin was shifted, out of place and poking at the skin unnaturally.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
He plucked a few more notes before replying. “They call me Dog.”
“Dog?” I repeated, puzzled.
“Yes, Dog. Do you have an issue with my name? Or perhaps you think I should be called something more dignified, like ‘Human’?”
I blinked. “No, it’s just... unusual. Why Dog?”
“Why not? Dogs are loyal, wise, and live simply. They understand the world better than most humans. Tell me, do you despise dogs?”
“No, of course not. They are the best.”
“Precisely!” he clapped his hands in excitement. “Unlike humans, who complicate their lives with unnecessary worries and possessions. I prefer the simplicity of a dog’s life.”
“I see. So, you…like live out here on the Pillar, away from everyone else?”
“Indeed, I live on the Pillars. Society below is a man-made labyrinth of illusions. Out here, I’m free to live as I choose, unfettered by the trivial pursuits of men.”
I glanced around the chamber. “Why are you here?”
He gave me a sly smile. “Why is anyone anywhere? Perhaps the winds of fate blew me here, or maybe I just enjoy the view. Does a man need a reason to be where he is?”
“I suppose not. But…what do you do here? Are you from a city below? You must be a voidblood to even be here, right? How do you live?” I peppered the old man with questions. I knew a crazy wise hermit when I saw one. He fit all the descriptions from my video games and books.
“Live? Exist? Survive? Call it what you will, but I do, yes. This Pillar, that Pillar. All the Pillars, with their lofty heights and secrets and people, provide all I need. Unlike the academy below, the cities below, the mountains and forests and land below, with its rules and pretenses, and changes. Like seasons. Ugh, seasons don’t get me started on those pesky things.”
I tensed slightly. “So, you know about the academy?”
“I know many things, Erik.” His colorless eyes met mine, and a shiver ran down my spine. “The academy trains warriors, but it also blinds them. You, however, are different. You see beyond the surface. Or at least, part of you wants to.”
“How do you know my name? And what do you mean by that?”
“Names are but labels, easily discovered. Each is written on one’s soul. Yours has two, but Erik runs the show, yes? As for my meaning, well, that is for you to uncover. Perhaps over a meal? I was just about to dine.”
My stomach growled in response, betraying my hunger. “Actually, yeah, I could really use a meal.”
He pulled the spit and began tending to the cooked bird. “You’ve had quite the ordeal, from what I saw.”
“Saw? What did you see?” I asked.
Dog didn’t answer.
I sighed and continued. “There was this... thing they call a Guardian. It’s crazy powerful and knocked me away with some sort of weird force. I flew through the air, tried to save myself with my grappling hook, slammed into the wall, and got knocked out. Now I’m here, and my leg’s busted. I am trying to find my recruits.” I paused. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything to help with a broken leg, would you?”
He chuckled softly. “Quite the adventure indeed. Guardians on this floor? You must have disobeyed one of Them.”
“Them? The Guardians? What do you know? Please, tell me.” I looked at him seriously.
“Or,” He continued without addressing me. “Maybe someone called for the Guardians to come? Ah, the mysterious relationship between Men and Them will always fascinate me. You’re not quite aware of Them, I guess.”
“You keep saying Them…who?”
He handed me a wooden plate with a portion of the grilled chicken. The aroma was intoxicating.
“Thank you,” I said sincerely. “So…Them?”
Dog furrowed his brow and shouted. “Them, yes, Them. Is it my fault for your lack of education? Just look it up in your library.” He waved his hand and began to hum a tune, tapping his foot in rhythm.
Realizing he wasn’t going to answer my question, I asked a different one.“So, what do you do all day? What does a free man do away from the ‘rules’?”
He leaned back, gazing up at the curved ceiling. “I observe, I ponder, and sometimes, I meddle in the affairs of those who pique my interest. The world is a stage, Erik, and I am but a humble spectator, occasionally stepping into the spotlight to meddle with the actors.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Meddle?”
He grinned. “Only when necessary. Or when it’s particularly amusing.”
I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. Despite his eccentricity, something was endearing about Dog.
I thought to myself, what would I do if I was playing a game? Surely, this guy would have some sort of item to give me, right? Or a special map? I had to try. “So, uh. You wouldn’t happen to have seen a bo staff around, would you? I lost mine during the... incident.”
“A staff? No.” He tapped his chin. “But perhaps something more fitting for a man thrust into the unknown.”
—Oh hell yeah, for real? Please be a magical sword. Please be a magical sword!
He chuckled and leaned back, and reached into the large cauldron behind him. He rummaged around, the clang of metal echoing softly. “Now, where did I leave that blasted thing…Ah, there it is!”
He pulled out a sleek, straight sword, its scabbard adorned with intricate patterns unlike any I’d seen before. Fern didn’t recognize the language as well.
—That’s what I’m talking about! I shouted in my mind.
He offered it to me blade first. “Take this. A strange weapon from a strange Pillar for a strange man.” He winked.
I hesitated, wondering if this was too good to be true. Would it be cursed? I forced the doubt away and reached out to grasp the sword. With it in my hands, I grabbed it how it was meant to be held. The hilt felt cool in my hand, the balance perfect. Unsheathing it slightly, I glimpsed the blade—sharp, long, thick, and double-bladed. It had runes etched along the center that glowed faintly. Almost pulse-like. Until I realized it was glowing in time with my pulse.
“It’s…reading my heartbeat,” I murmured. “I’ve never had something like this.”
“Except from items from home, right?” Dog said.
“My…home? What do you mean-”
He continued. “The runes are from a different Pillar, their swords are…unique. It speaks of protection, courage, and the journey ahead. Or so it says.” Dog laughed, his beard shook, and dandruff fell from his colored hair
I looked up at him, half with frustration, half with curiosity. He was just the sort of character to be cryptic and hand me a magical sword. I had to ask though. “Why help me?”
He met my gaze; his white eyes shimmered in the firelight. And he gave the most predictable answer I could think of that a crazy hermit would give to a player in a game. “Why does the sun rise? Why do the stars shine? Some things simply are. Perhaps I see potential in you. Or perhaps I’m just a sentimental old man seeing himself in the heart of a young adventurer.”
I sheathed the sword, securing it at my side. “Thank you. I don’t know how to repay you.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “No need. Consider it a gift. Besides, I will call on. Your help in another time and place.”
Suddenly, he clapped his hands. “Ah! Almost forgot.”
He picked up his instrument again and began to play a different melody—lively and whimsical. As the notes filled the chamber, I noticed small glimmers on the ground. Tiny insects emerged from the cracks in the stone floor, luminescent and delicate.
I tensed. “What are those?”
“Helpers,” he replied, continuing to play. “They won’t harm you. The help!”
The bugs scurried toward me, and before I could react, they crawled onto my injured leg. I flinched, but as they moved and crawled over my skin, a warm sensation spread through the limb. Tiny mouths dug into my skin, slightly stinging, but as the bugs entered my leg, the pain began to ebb, replaced by a soothing numbness.
“What are they doing?” I asked, astonished.
“Helping, didn’t I just say that?” Dog said simply. “They carry restorative properties and repair your cells. Just relax.”
“The healing herbs you humans make only speed up your natural recovery, it makes your wounded area weak and easy to break again if not given time. The Helpers bypass that and use their own body to repair yours.”
“You mean…they are dying inside me, and my body is using them to heal?”
“Exactly! Now you’re listening!” Dog said, continuing to play.
I watched in wonder as the insects worked their way under my skin. After a few moments, the bump lowered, and the moving stopped. I flexed my leg cautiously. The pain was gone.
“That’s... incredible,” I breathed.
He smiled knowingly. “The world is full of wonders if you know where to look and who to ask. Like getting that sword.” He raised his eyebrow.
I stood up, testing my weight on the leg. It felt as good as new.
“Thank you,” I repeated
“Think nothing of it,” he replied, finishing his song and setting his instrument aside. “Now, there’s something I’d like to show you.”
He stood up and walked over to a large curtain draped across the far side of the chamber. With a swift motion, he pulled it aside, revealing a massive window that looked out over the entire first floor.
I stepped forward, awestruck by the view. The landscape stretched out beneath us—the forests, the large central river, and the distant mountains where we had camped the night before all bathed in the teal glow of the twin moons. From this vantage point, the floor seemed like a game board, filled with monsters, traps, and places to hide.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.
“Indeed,” Dog agreed. “A world within a pillar on a world connecting two existences. The feats of Them are indeed impressive.”
As I gazed out, a flicker of movement caught my eye. In the distance, near an area not too far away, flashes of light erupted—bursts of energy illuminating the night.
My heart jumped. “Something’s happening down there.”
Dog nodded thoughtfully. “It appears your friends are still engaged in their struggles.”
I strained my eyes, and my vision enhanced. I could make out details through the treetops, the familiar lanky figure of the guardian shifted between trees. Small explosions of light erupted near it, then more movement, and the Guardian ran.
“I have to go,” I said urgently, turning away from the window.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “You could stay here, rest. Or, you could join me on the other floor. There’s much more to discuss. Much more to do.”
I hesitated. Part of me was tempted to remain, to delve deeper into the mysteries this strange man presented, following him would be an option to grow more. He was the quintessential old man mentor from games. But the thought of my friends in danger spurred me to turn away.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done and this,” I said, patting my new sword, now tied to my hip. “But they need me.”
Dog nodded. “Very well. The choice is yours.”
I started toward the stairs, then paused. “Will I see you again?”
He gave me a cryptic smile and bent down. With incredible hidden strength, he lifted the large iron pot and rested it on his back, tying a large rope that hung between its handles across his chest. He started to head up another set of stairs to the next floor. “Perhaps. The Pillars have a way of bringing paths together. If I don’t see you here, it will be another Pillar. That’s what we Towerhoppers do.”
“Towerhoppers?” I asked, but Dog began to climb and disappeared.
With that, I descended the staircase, the weight of the new sword at my side. My leg felt strong, and my spirit was renewed.
—That was... unexpected, Fern remarked.
—Tell me about it, but this sword has GOT to be special I replied. We can’t waste time. They might need our help.
Emerging back into the hallway, I made my way toward the cave entrance. The night air greeted me, cool and invigorating. I glanced back once, but the chamber above was silent.
I ran towards the direction of the commotion. I focused on my muscles and sight to navigate the dark forest floor. The darkness faded into a light gray and white, and I navigated easily through the thick woods with blazing speed.
———
—‘We need to be cautious,’ Fern warned.
As I cut my way through the thick forest. My sword felt like air; each cut gave no resistance. The blade was a masterpiece.
—Agreed, I thought back. But they might need our help. We can’t let a moment waste.
As I approached closer to shouting and bright bursts of light, a hand shot out from a thicket and yanked me into the underbrush. Instinctively, I reached to raise my sword, but a whisper halted me.
“Quiet!” came a familiar voice.
I turned to see the girl with black hair—the one who had offered to switch places with me during the orientation, the one I’d saved earlier. Her eyes were wide with urgency.
“You!” I whispered, surprised. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, placing a finger to her lips. “Shh,” she cautioned, then pointed ahead.
Through the foliage, I saw a chilling scene unfold. Waelid stood in a small clearing, his posture rigid. Opposite him was Marcus, the House Enlil co-captain, the one with the crab blood infusion. His face was pale under the moonlight.
“Please, not me,” Marcus pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. “You can use one of the other students.”
Waelid’s expression was cold, his eyes reflecting no empathy. “I’ve seen just how weak you are, Marcus. You couldn’t hold off Fan or even manage your recruits. To beat mine, outnumbered and with the upper hand of surprise. Pathetic.”
Marcus took a shaky step back. “I can do better. Just give me another chance.”
Waelid shook his head slowly. “You’ve shown you’re not up to the task of being an upperclassman, let alone a cinder.”
A knot formed in my stomach. Something was wrong.
“What’s he doing?” I murmured.
The girl beside me clenched her jaw. Her pale blue eyes were fixated on my Chapter Master. “Just watch.”
Waelid took a deliberate step toward Marcus. “In this world, strength is everything. Sacrifices must be made for the greater good, to make way for the stronger to rise.”
“No!” Marcus cried out, turning to run.
But Waelid was faster. With a swift motion, he grabbed Marcus by the collar and hurled him into the open.
From the shadows of the forest, the Guardian emerged—the towering figure of darkness and raised its bladed hand. Its shadowed face glowed gray with an otherworldly light as it fixated on Marcus.
“Help me!” Marcus screamed as he flew, but it was too late.
The Guardian’s elongated arm shot out, claws of black blades piercing through Marcus’s body. The air filled with a sickening sound as the life drained from his eyes. I stifled a gasp, my heart pounding in my ears.
Waelid didn’t flinch. Seizing the moment, he dashed forward, his scimitar gleaming. With calculated precision, he slashed at the Guardian’s exposed limb, causing it to recoil and release Marcus’s lifeless body.
“He’s using him as bait,” I whispered, horror creeping into my voice.
“Exactly,” the girl replied bitterly.
Waelid reached into his cloak and pulled out a small, spiked device—a rock-like object that pulsed with a faint light. He lobbed it toward Marcus’s fallen form.
“Cover your eyes,” the girl warned, pulling my head down.
We shielded our faces just as a brilliant flash erupted. Even with eyes closed, the intensity was blinding. The Guardian let out a deafening scream, a sound that resonated deep within my bones.
When the light faded, I dared to look. The Guardian thrashed wildly, disoriented. Waelid took advantage again, unleashing a flurry of strikes that cut deep into the creature’s form. Dark mist and purple blood poured from its wounds, dissipating into the night air.
For a moment, it seemed he might defeat it.
But then, the Guardian regained its bearings. With a guttural roar, it swiped at Waelid, forcing him to leap back.
“Persistent beast,” Waelid spat, frustration evident.
He took several steps back, assessing the situation. The Guardian stood between him and the direction of the academy.
“Fine! You want another one?” Waelid shouted. “I’ll find one!”
He turned and vanished into the trees, leaving the Guardian writhing in the clearing before it followed him.
I stared in disbelief. “He... he sacrificed Marcus.”
The girl nodded solemnly. “And he’ll do it again.”
“How can he justify this?” I demanded, anger rising within me. “He’s supposed to protect us!”
She met my gaze, her eyes hardened by experience. “That’s how Chapter Master Waelid won his last fight with a Guardian. He sacrificed over fifty recruits.”
My breath caught. “Fifty?”
“He’s ruthless,” she continued. “Our Chapter Master prepared us for this. But we weren’t ready to experience it right away.”
A mix of nausea and fury churned inside me. The academy, the place that was supposed to be a haven for honing our abilities, was harboring someone capable of such atrocities.
“We have to stop him,” I said, clenching my fists.
She placed a hand on my arm. “You want to confront the golden boy of Ash? You will certainly die.”
“Then what do we do?” I asked, frustration evident.
“It is not the time yet. But, if we can defeat the Guardian, that is one way he will stop.”
I looked back toward the clearing. The Guardian had receded into the shadows, its presence lingering like a stain on the night and Marcus’ body leaving a red stain on the ground.
“Why are you helping me?” I asked her.
She offered a faint smile. “Because you helped me.”
“What’s your name?” I realized I hadn’t even asked.
“Luna,” she said softly. “Lunafreya.”
“Lunafreya,” I repeated. “Thank you.”
She nodded. “Come on. We need to regroup with the survivors and warn them.”
“Survivors…how many are gone.”
Lunafreya shook her head. “Too many.”