Silas’s mechanical arm whirred and whined as he clicked a brass dial, releasing a small burst of light. The flash was supposed to blind the oncoming intruder, but the creature darted aside. It crept like a serpent through the bookcases, still facing us. Silas turned and aimed the glowstone light toward the slinking creature. I caught my breath, heart pounding.

Staring at us through the shelves was a towering, black-furred ferret-like…thing, easily seven feet tall when hunched. Its white mask featured a black painted symbol of an elongated creature with long claws. Large red eyes glowed behind the mask, and at the ends of its elongated arms, glinting like polished steel, metal blades grew from its hands. It was the spy. It had to be. Not only that, but they were blood-infused. Someone with the same power I saw in the trial. Someone…who had gone to the Academy.

—‘Try using the shelves!’ Fern urged inside my mind. ‘Fan out! Lose it in the maze! You can’t fight it head-on.’

—And risk damaging the books? Not a chance, I thought, ignoring his plea. We need to neutralize this threat now. Its our chance to take out the spy now.

The beast arched its long head out from the bookcases and stumbled back out, its red glowing eyes adjusted to the light coming from Silas’ arms.

“Uh oh, that’s not good,” Silas said.

The beast opened its mouth and a loud hair raising chatter came out from its mouth. It lowered its arms and turned the bladed palms toward us. It lowered its head and ran towards us like a pursuing shark.

Ruriel moved first. He jumped to the right and hurled two throwing knives at it. The intruder swiped a claw upward and batted it aside with ease. The best ignored the blades as they embedded into its side. The infused raised its hands and swiped around at the bookshelves. Splinters of wood, dust, and torn paper flew into the air. My stomach tightened as I watched centuries-old knowledge fall through the air in tatters.

I didn’t have time to think. The beast was there.

I pushed Silas out of the way.

“Push the shelves back, make some space for us!” I said.

The infused swipe missed and clawed through more books on a nearby shelf. I cringed.

—Damn it, I thought, gripping my sword.

The cursed blade’s runes flickered, and a strange pain pricked behind my eyes.

—Oh come on now, you didn’t act up in the pillar, I thought, shaking the pain away.

The beast twisted its body and tilted its large head at me. More loud chattering came from its mouth as it lifted its claw and flung itself towards me. I straightened my stance and took a deep breath. I raised the sword and watched the infused raise its arm.

Now.

I stepped back on my feet, creating a fraction of distance before I cut down and parried the infused’s claws, causing them to grind against the floor. One blade bent and shattered because of the angle against the stone floor.

“Hah! Take—”

The other arm of the infused slammed into my back and I was knocked into the air. I let out a gasp as the wind was knocked out of me.

I slammed and skidded against the ground until I hit a bookshelf, causing more books to fall, more pages to be bent, and more dry frayed paper to rip. The strength of the blood-infused had cracked several ribs. I was in pain from that, but my back wasn’t broken, which I was thankful for. My knees shook and buckled as I tried to stand up.

The beast had pushed itself up, missing one claw. It turned towards me and took another step when two throwing knives buried themselves into the chest of the blood-infused. Like before, it did not flinch.

“Blasted fucking beast. You alright mate?” Ruriel shouted. He was kneeling on top of a bookshelf.

I wiped the spit and snot from my mouth and pushed myself up. “Yeah, just great.”

Anger flared—at the spy, at the buzzing little pricking from the sword, and at this tragic massacre. Books and scrolls, precious bits of lore that I could devour about this world if I wasn’t being hunted this whole damn time.

I gritted my teeth and yelled as I ran towards the infused.

—I will cut you down!

—‘Let’s go for the kill!’ Fern yelled.

My legs felt like they would snap, but the strength we had trained with and grown together made Fern and me a force. We were still finding our limits together.

I sprinted, hopping over fallen books and broken pieces of wood. My sword was drawn. The infused chattered again and held out its claws.

I slid forward, slashing low at the intruder’s torso. It leaped back, balancing on spindly hind legs, then swiped with one elongated arm. Claws whistled through the air. I pulled my head back just in time. The swipe continued onto the stone floor behind me. Scrapping metal rang throughout the archive.

—Shit!

The intruder hissed, turning its masked gaze toward me. A guttural whisper escaped it: “Twin-Soul, your death will save thousands…” My blood ran cold.

Silas and Ruriel closed in, flanking it and throwing more knives into its body. Silas shot small, black bolts from his metal gauntlet. An invention?

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The creature twisted as two of the knives dug into the side of its face. My sword hummed, runes brightening. I fought the dizziness and pain away, refusing to yield to this cursed edge. I stood up and yelled out to the beast, getting its attention focused back on me. Its head twisted away from my friends. I ran towards the center of the archive, where no more books were at risk of being shredded.

The beast followed, ignoring more bolts and knives that found their place in the infused’s back. In the middle of the archive, there was a small statue of a man sitting and reading a book. Above the statue, stood a hooded stranger. Abruptly, I heard the infused behind me freeze. I slowed my run and looked between the hooded figure and the infused. A new tension charged the air. The beast hissed softly, staring at the new arrival in the middle of the room.

A sudden emerald flash flared behind me, bathing the shelves in a ghostly green light. A small breeze blew behind us, rustling the scattered papers and books on the shelves like leaves in the fall. The infused screeched, and it covered its mask and face as it reared back. I whirled, sword at the ready, only to see the hooded man gracefully jump down from the statues and stand in front of me. He lowered his hood. A cocky smirk was carved across his face. He held a small, rune-etched stone in one hand—its green glow fading now that it had unleashed its brilliance. On the other hand, he held a small, curved dagger.

“Well, well, well. The archives certainly are lively tonight, aren’t they?” Waelid drawled, voice low and mocking.

With a snarling hiss, the intruder wasted no time. It sprang backwards and knocked Ruriel aside. It climbed up the back wall shelf, black fur blending with the shadows as it scaled the wood with an impossible speed fifteen feet high. Splinters and dusty volumes showered down. Before I could even take a step, it vanished through a narrow ventilation shaft near the ceiling. Metal scraped as the creature’s claws echoed away, leaving us all standing amid scattered pages and half-toppled lanterns.

Dust swirled, and I coughed. Silas and Ruriel ran up to me, weapons lowered but still wary. Waelid stepped forward, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What, exactly, are you three doing here?” His voice held a sharp note of accusation. “Breaking into the restricted archives? Care to explain?”

Before I could stumble through a response, distant shouts drifted down the corridors—The librarian, Mrs. Brindle fiercely barking, and then Hopsander’s booming voice overpowering hers. Likely trying to warn us. We couldn’t stay. The tension in my gut twisted tighter.

Waelid didn’t wait for an answer. He jerked his head toward the doorway. “We have to move. Now. I won’t get caught with my own recruits breaking the second most important rule in the Academy, and I doubt you want your clever little scheme exposed.”

We traded hurried glances. As much as I distrusted Waelid, he offered an immediate escape route. He slipped into the hallway, quiet and deliberate, and we followed. We kept close as he guided us through cramped side corridors and unlit passages. Every footstep felt too loud in my ears, every distant shout too close.

We ran out the way we came and all sprinted through the halls, running as lightly as we could on the balls of our feet. We made it back to the dorm and followed Waelid inside.

We navigated quietly through the dorm and climbed a narrow spiral staircase that led to a secluded watchtower branching off the building. The night air seeped through a small window that sat at the top of the stairs, cooling the sweat on my brow. Waelid unlocked and opened the only door on this floor and we stumbled inside—a single-occupant room, sparse and quiet.

He closed the door and turned to face us, raising a brow. “Now,” he said, voice calm but deadly serious, “tell me exactly what you think you’re doing.”

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

Waelid’s room was as stark as I’d have guessed: a single cot shoved into the corner, a narrow table bearing a sharpening stone and a neatly folded shirt, and a handful of weapons mounted on the stone walls. A narrow window offered a view of the Academy’s sprawling grounds, the moonlight cutting pale beams across the floor. The space felt less like a dorm and more like a soldier’s watch post.

Waelid shut the door behind us and leaned against it, arms folded, his broad shoulders nearly blocking the room’s limited light. His eyes glinted with suspicion as they moved between the three of us.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s hear it. What were you doing down there? What did you find? And why did you break the rules?”

Silas shifted uneasily, his mechanical arm letting out a faint whir as he adjusted its position. Ruriel remained silent, watching Waelid like a coiled serpent, ready to strike. He looked at me and then back at Waelid as if to say, ‘just say the word’.

I straightened. “Why would you care about rules?”

“I care about the Academy, I care about protecting this place for voidbloods to train and seek revolution. I don’t care what happens to anyone who stands in my way or threatens that.”

—So he’s just extremely dedicated to the cause? That’s something I can work with.

—‘Didn’t you hear him? He doesn’t care how he achieves his goals? He is a THREAT Erik? Why won’t you listen to me?’ Fern said, angrily.

—You’ll see.

I took a deep breath. “Look, Chapter Master,” I said with bitterness. “We weren’t stealing anything to harm the academy. It’s actually the opposite. You remember when you spied on me in the library the other day?”

“I did not spy. I was on my way to the archives like I do every night. I then caught sight of you, of all people, reading a letter.”

“Regardless. That letter was from my brother, like I told you. He told me something. There’s a spy in the Academy, and I think they’re connected to the Royal Mages.”

“Your brother…” Waelid’s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “And who is your brother, exactly?”

I hesitated. This was the tightrope I’d dreaded walking. “His name is Lotrick. He’s a student at the magical academy in Khalo. And he is learning from the Magelord himself.”

“Close to the Magelord?!” Waelid’s voice spiked with venom. His hands dropped to his sides, fists clenched. “You’re telling me your brother has ties to Magelord Starbringer?”

Before I could answer, Waelid lunged. His speed caught me off guard, and his forearm slammed into my collarbone, slamming me back against the wall. The cursed sword clattered to the ground.

“Waelid!” Silas shouted, darting forward. His mechanical arm shot out, prying Waelid’s grip loose. Ruriel hopped on Waelid’s back and held a knife up against the Chapter Master’s throat. Waelid froze and let off some pressure.

“Drop your knife, recruit. I am backing off, but don’t mistake my submission as weakness. I can crush your windpipe with the wind at my call.” Waelid turned toward me. “You! You’re working for them! A dog of the Magebloods. What, did your brother send you here to report back our weaknesses? Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

“I’m not!” I shouted. “Listen, damn it! Just calm down. One, you saw we were the ones being attacked, right? So obviously, someone here has a hidden agenda to attack me. Two, I hate the Magebloods just as much as you do! You think they treated me well?”

Waelid stilled, his chest heaving, but his glare burned. Ruriel hadn’t dropped his knife and Silas had his fists clenched, ready to restrain him again if needed.

I rubbed my chest. “I’m not lying. I’m a Twin-Soul. That’s why they’re after me. The spy knows what I am, and they want me dead. I’m like a problem with their grand plans or something. Lotrick warned me about them, saying there was a spy, but he didn’t know everything either. I’m trying to find the truth, just like you.”

Waelid’s expression shifted, his anger cooling into something sharper, more calculating. “They are not here because you are. Don’t be so egotistical.” He said.

—That’s rich coming from you. I thought.

“You’re…a Twin-Soul?” He said, raising his eyebrow. “Prove it.”

“Huh? How am I supposed to ‘prove it?’.”

“Well, how am I supposed to believe you? Twin-Souls are supposed to be almost mythical weapons. Powerful, unstable, and experimental. They are supposed to be Magebloods only, too.”

“Well, maybe I’m the first Voidblood Twin-Soul?” I shrugged.

Waelid stared at me for a long moment, then scoffed. “Let’s just say you are. You think this…spy, the thing I made scurry like a rat, is trying to kill you because you are one? Why go to the archives, then, where it’s secluded and the perfect place to be ambushed?”

I rolled my eyes. “Because I needed to find out information. Information that I could only get there. Records, histories, etc. So I can find out who this spy is. When I do, I can stop the attempts on my life and my classmate’s lives.”

“I see, I see.” He grinned, then looked at the bag of scrolls and books we took. “If it’s tracking down a spy who works for the Magebloods…then I’m in.”

“Huh? You’re…what?” Silas said.

“Why do you care so much about the spy?” Ruriel asked warily.

Waelid’s jaw tightened, and for the first time, his eyes darkened with something deeper than anger. “Because they’re working for the Magebloods. And because of what those bastards did.”

He stepped to the window, staring out at the moonlit grounds. His voice turned bitter, heavy with hate. “Five years ago, Noah Starbringer appeared in Khalo. He was some pride and joy of the King and Princelords. He just…appeared out of nowhere. A Mageblood that could use all the elements. The stars themselves bent to his will. The Magelord and his ilk quelled every semblance of dissent throughout Stylos. Tens of thousands died at their…crusade. To keep it short, I have a blood feud with the Royal Mages and the Magelord himself. Can I trust you? Is your brother loyal to the Magelord? Are you loyal to your brother?”

His words hung in the air, bitter and raw. I felt Fern stir uneasily in the back of my mind. I looked at him in the eye. I saw him as slightly different now. There was a darkness inside of him that was born out of injustice and bloodshed.

“I am my own man. I am me. A Voidblood Twin-Soul. I want to get power to protect those close to me, and keep my loved one’s safe. I know how the Magebloods control us and my blade will forever be the Cinders to use, as long as I keep the ones I love, the ones I have left…safe.”

“So, you want to join us, because it helps you get back at the Magebloods?” Silas asked carefully.

Waelid turned back to us, his smirk returning, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Because if you’re going to topple a kingdom, you don’t start at the throne. You start with the cracks in its stone walls.”

He jabbed a finger at me. “I don’t fully trust you. I am joining you partly for that reason. To make sure you aren’t lying to me. Okay? If I find you are, I will cut you down that instance. We catch this spy, take their secrets, and I get to use them against the Magebloods. Deal?”

I hesitated before reaching out my hand. “Deal.”

The uneasy truce felt as fragile as glass.

—‘Erik…I think you made a big mistake letting him in.’

—Sometimes Fern, in life, you’ll have to make a deal with a devil.