The next three hours of Professor Gallon’s lecture felt like pulling teeth. All of us were anxious about the spy that lurked around the Academy. And while I was very interested to see how the whole planet's magic systems were laid out, I wanted to do something about the immediate threat. Gallon was rushing back and forth in front of us drawing symbols on the long chalkboard. She had written, in big bold letters, "The Seven Laws of Magic". Below that were seven different titles that represented the different kinds of magic spread across the planet in their own country. The supposed legend is something about a god not being able to decide on what magic he wanted for the world, so he picked twelve. There were other theories of course as to why this happened.
THE SEVEN LAWS OF MAGIC ON MOURNE
The Law of the Mind
The Law of Correspondence
The Law of Vibration
The Law of Polarity
The Law of Rhythm
The Law of Cause and Effect
The Law of Gender
—'Why is she still going on about this stuff? How is it relevant to us for fighting against an infiltration?'
Gallon finished a chalkboard drawing and let out a satisfied breath of air.
“Take good notes, I'm going to leave this up here for now, but it will be gone tomorrow. It's...what class?" She asked waving her hands to us.
"Necessary information," We all groaned.
"Professor," Zenobia raised her hand and stood. "With all due respect, you had started this lecture on the Stylosian Magebloods."
"Ah yes, you are quite right Ms. Zenobia. Let's move on! We’ve been discussing all Magebloods, their element bindings, and the seven Laws of magic that govern each continent’s core. Now, we delve deeper into the nature of their physical body.”
She drew a rough shape of a human torso, simplified and sketched in chalk. “At the center of every Mageblood’s body, here”—she circled a spot near where the heart would be—“lies their ‘Core.’ A Core is the source of their magical aptitude. It’s a physical organ."
Shocks erupted under my classmate's breath. How were we just told this knowledge now? No really, I’m serious!” She grinned and laughed. Her blueish frizzy hair bounced with each laugh. “We can cut open a dead one if we ever find one. It's a small thing, about the size of a grapefruit. It rests right beneath the heart. Think of it as a wellspring." She looked around the class and saw our eyes, once droopy and sleepy from her long-winded explanation, were now open and focused.
"Ah, you may be wondering why you never knew about this. Frankly, the knowledge of it is actually forbidden to be taught in schools and education. Mageblood and Voidblood alike. We wait to tell you until now, after your trial, because we know you now dare to plunge a dagger to protect yourself. With what's happening now you need to know all the ways to stop a mageblood. So far we have gone over, hand separation, and now the core."
"From it, the Mageblood draws aether, glow, aura, mana, threads, whatever you want to call it—tiny bubbles of energy— to weave, knot, and pluck to create spells. Without a Core, no spell, no elemental influence, no manipulation of the world’s fabric. They become normal Voidbloods like us. So, the second lesson, if you can't take their hands, take their heart.” Gallon smiled at us with a frightening grin. The actual murderous intent behind the teachings of the Academy was becoming more clear every day. But what choice did our oppressors leave us? It was like I was in a pressure cooker and all these tactics, weapons, and blood-infusions were all building toward some sort of catastrophe.
Gallon's constant rambling jumbled my mind but I understood what she was saying. My classmates leaned forward, curious. We’d learned about Magebloods in broad terms during the week before the trial, but never this detailed. I saw Mel’s eyebrows rise in fascination, for once interested in school. Vahim and Habr exchanged glances, and Tevin scratched the back of his head, looking puzzled.
Gallon smiled thinly. “Now, us Voidbloods—our Cores exist but remain dormant. You lack the ‘spark’ to ignite them. That is why you cannot weave Threads, sing Songs, or write the First Words. That is why you cannot use magic. Instead, we teach you to rely on physical prowess, artifacts, runes, Pillardust, and blood infusions to counter their magic. You are blades to their needles, cutting to their sewing.”
I tightened my jaw. I was reminded of the threads that Fern’s mom wrapped and burned me with. The pain, intensity, and feeling of utter hopelessness were terrifying. Yet now...it seemed that there were ways to stop that. Ways I could learn to get close to Noah. No matter what soul controlled him, and no matter what magic he threw at me, I was beginning to understand that there were counters to it all. It wasn't hopeless. We had other paths to power than Magebloods did. But were they enough?
“Speaking of Pillardust,” Gallon said, turning to a new section of the board, “let’s talk about that. Pillardust—tiny crystalline grains extracted from the very walls of the Pillar—plays a critical role in our battles. It seals wounds, halts bleeding, wards off some creatures of the upper floors, and can even nullify or distort the Threads Stylosian Magebloods weave. Properly applied, Pillardust can ruin a Mageblood’s delicate pattern of energy, leaving them powerless at a crucial moment. Now, isn’t that…wonderful.” She grew another giant grin on her face. I was beginning to think this side of her was her more sadistic side.
Silas smiled and smacked Ruriel and me on the arm. He was excited. Pillardust was something tangible, something we could use, something we knew. Sora and Rinka exchanged smiles and began to whisper about how to use it from long range. I guess Sora gave up the nunchucks and decided to join her sister with the bow. Lucius straightened in his seat and began writing down something on his paper, and Zenobia whipped out another notebook jotting down ideas and notes in two places, Both were intrigued by the strategic possibilities.
Gallon’s face became grave. “However, Pillardust is precious, and one of our only valuable resources that we have control over. Because of it, we have been able to remain...peaceful with the Royal Mages. We buy our freedom to act as mercenaries with it. It's on the second floor after each Pillar reset, and it must be handled with care. It’s kept in special pouches sewn from fibers found within the pillar, that keep it…well, I guess you could say 'free'? Once the dust is taken out of these pouches it will remain useful for only a short while. After long exposure, it becomes no more than just a ground-up stone. Because of its multiple applications and limited use, distribution records are strict. Every gram is accounted for because if it got into the wrong hands—imagine what a traitor could do, either against the academy or towards other wars and conflicts across the globe. We have made sure to send only a small amount to the Royal Mages. Nothing huge to them. But, if they found a way to break through our barrier, and take pillar dust for themselves, well, that would be the end of us. That is why we teach you, that is why we give blood infusion pacts. We must become a force that doesn't rely on one sole thing.”
My pulse quickened. Wrong hands… The spy. The shipment records we stole. I had to review them when we finished with everything today. This new information about Pillardust could be a huge clue to finding the Spy. It seems so obvious...right? I glanced at Silas and Ruriel again. I could tell they were thinking the same thing. Over lunch, we’d have to discuss what this meant.
Before class could continue, the faint silhouette of the Headmaster appeared outside the door’s small window panel. He didn’t enter, just murmured something to Hopsander and Laska, who hovered in the hallway. Hopsander nodded gravely, and Laska looked troubled. They left quietly, and Gallon waited for a moment before continuing, respecting the Headmaster's rank.
Hopsander cleared his throat softly from the back as he walked past, reminding Gallon to finish up. Gallon sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. We will continue our strategy teachings tomorrow. Specifically, the spell-casting symbols to watch when facing a Mageblood.”
The bell rang softly, signifying lunch break. Before letting us go, Gallon pointed at us with a stern gaze. “Listen carefully: No wandering alone. Always move with at least one partner. If you see something suspicious—anything—report it to your Chapter Master or Hopsander. The well-being of our academy depends on your vigilance….so.... bye-bye!” She then skipped out of the room. Her two personalities seemed to fighting a lot today for attention.
----------------------------------------
With that, the class paused for a break. We shuffled out into the corridor, tension lingering in the air. I caught snippets of conversations as we headed toward the mess hall for lunch:
“Did you hear? Some runic inks went missing,” Rinka whispered to Sora.
“Shhh, not so loud! What is the spy is listening? I heard he can hide in walls.” Sora hissed. “A House Nin recruit told me that Shipping and Storage lost a crate of rare metals, too.”
Tevin, walking behind them, muttered, “Great. As if we didn’t have enough to worry about. Now this?”
I followed behind them in step with Ruriel and Silas as we navigated the corridors.
—‘The spy must be after something big if they’re stealing materials from multiple departments,’ Fern said quietly inside me.
—We need to piece it together. What did the twins just say? Something from the Runic labs, and Shipping and Storage? We need to get somewhere where I can read these papers. Why can’t I freeze time? I cursed in my head. Fern just rolled his eyes. Or at least...it felt like he did.
We reached the mess hall, which hummed with subdued chatter. Unlike before, the energy was cautious. Everyone seemed aware something was off. The only relief from the tension of the spy's presence was the aroma of roasted vegetables and spiced broth filling my nose.
I steered Silas and Ruriel to a corner table. Once we had bowls of steaming soup and chunks of crusty bread before us, we leaned close together.
“So, Pillardust. It's crucial and regulated,” Ruriel said, dipping bread in his soup. “If the spy got their hands on it, that would mean bad news right?”
I nodded. “Exactly what I was thinking man, I am worried about what they could do. Imagine an invasion of Magebloods."
Silas nodded and wiped broth from his lip. “Do you think they could do that with Pillardust? Could they make an artifact that can break open the barrier?”
I nodded grimly. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
We ate quietly for a while, the background murmur of the mess hall seeming distant. Even my spoonfuls started to taste a bit bland under the weight of my thoughts.
Tevin passed by our table, pausing with a forced smile. “Hey, you three look like someone told you the world’s ending.”
I laughed it off as Tevin walked away smiling and getting a second helping. I did the same, just in case.
----------------------------------------
The academy’s training field was washed in a pale, wintry light. The chill air nipped at our exposed skin. We wore our training uniforms, which as a winter option wasn’t great. It only included a thin underlayer of long sleeves and pants under the black martial arts robe. We all had on simple black shoes with high sides that went halfway up my shin. They were tied with gold ribbons around the leg and had gripped soles under them for combat on uneven terrain, the standard Cinder field shoe. We gathered at the field’s edge of the outside training yard, and each of us was strapped into a weighted forty-pound vest that pressed heavily down on our shoulders. Sora, the smallest of us looked the most ridiculous. Her blue hair was bunched up and caught on the back of the weighted vest. Rinka was trying to help pull her hair out.
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Hopsander was in front, his webbed hands clasped behind his back, posture rigid as ever. He scanned our faces, nodding in approval. Beyond him, a cluster of supply crates stood waiting. The sound of something tinkling inside—flasks or glass tubes—reached our ears.
From behind the crates, Professor Rennal emerged. Tall and slightly disheveled, he hummed softly as he carried a small chest. Placing it on a makeshift table, he flipped it open to reveal rows of tiny vials filled with a glowing amber liquid. “Alright, children,” Rennal said, voice loud and dramatic. “This will simulate what your blood infusion will feel like. Imagine, pure energy, increased blood flow, heightened stamina, the works! But only for a short while. Think of it as your training wheels before the big day. We want to get you exposed immediately. You know...given the situation.” He winked at me and I raised my eyebrows in confusion.
—No way Rennal's the spy and so outlandishly gave away his hand right? I thought.
We looked around at each other with some confusion. We had already been drugged once by Rennal. Do we really have to do it again? We looked at Hopsander who gave a nod of approval. The vials looked harmless enough, though each shimmered faintly. Rinka muttered something to Sora, both uncertain. Tevin shrugged and reached for one. Before Mel pushed him aside.
"Me first big guy, see if it hurts me." She smiled at Tevin and patted his back before swigging down the vial. After she took a step back and gave a thumbs-up, we followed suit. I opened mine and downed it, the taste was metallic and slightly bitter. Then, at once, a warmth spread through my limbs, and I felt more awake, more aware. Fern stirred within me, curious.
Hopsander wasted no time. “Weighted sprints!” he barked, gesturing to the far end of the field. “Go!” At his command, we broke into a run, legs pumping harder than before. The vest pulled at my shoulders, but the potion’s effect made the strain almost exhilarating. The ground blurred beneath my feet as I pushed myself to keep pace. We felt like a group of wolves, a pack, running through Hopsanders orders.
After sprints came grappling drills, pairing off with partners to practice swift, controlled takedowns. Mel faced me, grinning fiercely as we locked arms and tried to knock each other off-balance for the victory. The potion buzzed in my veins, letting me anticipate her moves. Fern and my additional Twin-Soul strength surged and I was able to push her around easily. Still, Mel was no slouch—she managed to weave and slip out of my grip many times and used my weight to toss me onto my back in a cloud of dust a few times. I was able to return the favor though and we ended up tying the match. I couldn't relish in the victory however, her technique was too good and I was still relying on the power-ups I was given. I thought to myself that I should master a style like she had.
As we cooled down, the sun dipping lower, Laska appeared at the field’s edge. She gave Hopsander a signal and He nodded. After another sparing match, I slipped over and asked Laska about Pestil’s absence and my ‘check-up’. She shrugged, pushing a strand of dark hair aside. “He’s busy,” she said simply, avoiding details. “Focus on your training, Erik. We’ll need you at your best.”
I nodded, watching her turn away. She was behaving strangely today.
Trust no one That's what Lotrick told me. But it couldn't be Laska...right?
----------------------------------------
When I reached Hopsander’s office that evening, my hands were bright red from the cold. The corridors were quieter now, the distant hum of conversation replaced by the gentle hush of torchlight flickering on stone. The only sound I consistently heard was the echoing of our footsteps. I’d come with Silas and Ruriel through the side halls as instructed, avoiding the main routes to limit the chances of being seen. We walked into his office and walked around his desk to the wall behind it. I carefully pressed on a concealed panel as Hopsander had told me. With a muffled click, a small door swung inward, revealing a dimly lit passage leading to a cramped meeting chamber hidden behind his office wall.
Inside, the lanterns were hooded, casting long, stretched shadows against shelves stacked with scrolls and tools of the training trade. The smell of dust and old leather hung in the air. I crept forward until I saw them: Hopsander, his broad, frog-like silhouette unmistakable; Waelid, leaning casually against a wall, arms crossed; and Fan, seated on a short wooden stool, her porcelain-like features impassive. Silas and Ruriel moved to the side as I walked up to the center of the room placing my hands on a table that was covered in papers.
“Good, we’re all here,” Hopsander said quietly, nodding at each of us in turn. He tapped a short cane against the floor. “We have much to discuss and not much time.”
I folded my arms. “Before we start,” I said, my voice low but firm, “I need to know something: Why is Fan here, and how do we know we can trust her?”
Fan’s gaze flicked to me, and a wry smile touched her lips. “Erik, why are you so hostile? Didn’t we just bond in the Trial? I’m here because our Chapter Master asked me to. I am here because I was assigned by Hopsander, to assist your friends.” Her tone was sharp and flat.
"Excuse my accusation but the more we add to our circle of secrets, the more we open ourselves up to being exposed. And what do you mean help my friends?"
Hopsander cleared his throat. “Fan’s presence is necessary lad. You and Waelid will be going away soon. And I will need Silas and Ruriel to continue the investigation here. I trust Fan, if you don't then we don't move on with the mission. Am I making myself clear?.” The big frog-man looked at me more seriously than I had seen him before. How close were he and Fan?
I frowned. “Clear...but...going away? I'm sorry I didn't agree to that, what do you mean?”
“There's nothing to agree to recruit. It means they don’t want you here, and I have to babysit,” Waelid said.
“You know, I missed it when you were overly charming,” I said turning my nose away from him.
“Oh, I am always charming, Erik. I just feel that now that I can be honest with you, why would I want to lie to a friend?” Waelid said with a smirk.
I bit back a retort. Our alliance was fragile, and pushing too hard could break it. I couldn’t risk that now, I needed all the help I could get. Besides, if Hopsander vouched for Fan’s role, that would have to be enough. For now. But, I did not like it. She was close with Waelid. Does she even care about what he did?
Hopsander took a step forward, his webbed feet rasping on the stone. “Erik,” he began, “you obtained certain documents from the restricted archives. I need to know what you took.”
Exchanging a glance with Ruriel and Silas, I nodded. “We took some records on Twin-Souls, references to the four Guardians and The Kingdom Above. As well as an assortment of certain staff assignment logs. Not everything, just what looked relevant. Last five years of reports.” I paused, measuring my words. “I have them hidden safely. I’ll show you if necessary, but I won’t bring them here.” I still wasn’t sure I trusted everyone fully—even Hopsander. Knowledge was power, and I didn’t want to lose what little advantage we had.
Hopsander gave a curt nod. “Keep them hidden. I’ll publicly announce that we recovered all stolen documents. Hopefully, this will calm the spy’s nerves—and make them think we’re not pursuing that lead. It might cause them to relax or make a mistake.”
Ruriel tapped his chin thoughtfully. “So, the official story is that the infiltration was thwarted and no information was lost?”
“Yes, only that the spy got away. We are still keeping the Academy on high alert,” Hopsander said. “We’ll say the intruder ran off empty-handed. Meanwhile, you three—Silas, Ruriel, and Fan—will discreetly analyze what you have, cross-referencing staff assignments and old records to see who might have ties to the Magebloods and the Royal Mages. Keep your circle tight. Trust no one else. Not even your classmates unless necessary.”
Silas nodded grimly. “Understood. We’ll be careful.”
Waelid stepped away from the wall, folding his arms. “And so now back to us. Are you seriously making me go too?” he asked, flicking his gaze at me. “You’re sending me and Erik off to train with Captain Philip, is that it? Away from the academy, away from where the action is?”
Hopsander’s throat sac puffed slightly before he responded. “Yes, Waelid. Captain Philip’s training regimen is legendary. You know this. Why are you questioning me when he made you the man you are today?”
“Yes…I know. Still, I’m not happy about having to share that knowledge with…him,” Waelid said nodding toward me.
“He’ll shape Erik’s raw potential and refine your own. It’s necessary,” Hopsander said. “The coming battles with the Guardians and possibly the Magebloods will demand more than what we have now. Also, I believe it's time you get your infusion Waelid.” The frogman’s eyes narrowed. “Captain Phillip has it ready.”
Waelid’s eyes opened and he beamed a bright smile.
“You’re telling me this freak doesn't have an infusion yet? You're that strong without one?!” Ruriel said jabbing a thumb in the direction of Waelid.
"There are many things you do not know about your Chapter Master recruit, now have some respect." Fan stood in front of Ruriel looking ready to fight for Waelid.
“Captain Philip is stationed on the second floor,” Hopsander continued. “He’s preparing advanced recon squads. You two will join him. It’s also an opportunity to move you away from the academy, Erik. The spy is interested in eliminating you, and with you gone, they might turn their attention elsewhere or expose themselves.”
Waelid cast me a sidelong glance. “Lucky me, trapped with the twin-soul boy.” His tone was mocking, but I caught an undercurrent of resentment.
I couldn't hold it in anymore. I tightened my fists. “At least you won’t be sacrificing recruits while we’re gone. No one to toss to their death.”
A tense silence fell, thicker than the chill wind outside. Silas and Ruriel shifted uneasily. Fan crossed her arms and watched us carefully as if gauging the fault lines in our alliance.
Hopsander sighed. “I expected this. Let’s address it now: Erik, you object to Waelid’s methods. Waelid, you claim you were doing everything you could do for the greater Cinder good. Boys, we’re in a war against forces that would see us enslaved or dead. We are just now bearing the first fruits of years and years of our labors. If the enemy comes into our territory now, it is the end of us. All the work done by the Cinders before us will be for naught. Sometimes, moral lines blur. But we need unity.”
I glared at Waelid. “Unity doesn’t mean I accept murder as a tactic,” I said, my voice low and tense. “You threw kids at a Guardian. That’s not strategy; it’s cowardice.”
Waelid’s jaw worked as he ground his teeth. “I did what I deemed was right, twin-soul. The difference between survival and extinction is sometimes one sacrifices away. I make no apologies. If you think it’s cowardly, you know nothing about what I’ve faced. I would sacrifice a hundred recruits for the promise of better days for millions. Besides, did you even know any of them? Do you think they didn't deserve it?”
“What do you mean?” I slammed my hands on the table. “Who are you to determine if they should be killed or not?”
Fan stepped forward, placing a hand on Waelid’s arm. “Enough, both of you. We don’t have time for this. You’ll settle your grievances later.” Her eyes darted to me, then back to Waelid.
"Listen to Hopsander, aren't you supposed to be older? Don't you see what the greater threat is? Don't you see what is better for the greater good?"
I clenched my fists, anger hot in my jaws.
Fern stirred, whispering—‘We said we’d get justice, right?’
I took a deep breath and drew my dagger. Everyone took a step back as I brandished the blade and slammed it down onto the table. Papers flew and glasses shook with my declaration.
“I challenge you Waelid, to trial by combat. With Captain Hopsander as my witness, I demand you admit to your crimes and serve for them,”
Hopsander tapped his cane three times now, drawing our attention. “Enough, enough! Consider this postponed. Erik, if you want a duel with Waelid, do it at the end of the term, after we have rooted out this spy problem. I won’t stand in your way.” He looked at Waelid. “It is up to you to accept or decline the challenge, but if you decline know that it will be marked down on record as a refusal to duel.”
Waelid nodded grimly. “I accept.” His voice was quiet, almost resigned.
Hopsander cleared his throat. “Good. Time is short. I have the interviews to conduct, and I must make sure I appear to be fully invested in the official investigation. Waelid and Erik, report tomorrow morning at dawn. Be ready at the Mouth.”
I bowed my head slightly. “Understood.” My heart thrummed. Waelid gave a terse nod, showing no emotion. But as he turned to face the door, I noticed his knuckles were gripping the hilt of a short sword at his waist. He didn’t relish this alliance any more than I did.
As we prepared to disperse, I stepped closer to Hopsander. “Captain Phillip,” I asked quietly, “he knows about Twin-Souls, right?”
Hopsander nodded. “He’s aware. He helped train Waelid years ago. While not a Twin-Soul himself, Waelid is…special. Philip has seen many anomalies. He won’t shy away from pushing you beyond your limits.”
“How long will I be gone?”
“Three weeks at least.”
I swallowed hard. That meant no mercy, no easy shortcuts. Three weeks to get as strong as I could. I hoped and prayed that the spy wouldn't attack anyone while I was gone. If he follows me, then Hopsander will know immediately who the spy is. If he doesn't he may remain harmless, hiding from the investigation.
Perfect. Exactly what I needed. I turned to look at Waelid, who was whispering something to Fan. They parted abruptly, and Fan came over to join Silas and Ruriel, giving me a nod as if reaffirming her role in our secret faction.
Hopsander stepped to the door. “We should leave separately. Erik, you stay a minute. The rest of you—go. Slowly, one by one.”
Ruriel and Silas, followed by Fan, moved first out the door. Ruriel paused at the threshold, caught my eye, and mouthed, “Good luck.” Silas patted my shoulder as he passed, his mechanical arm’s whir reassuring me. Fan slipped out without a word, silent as a shadow.
Waelid hesitated, eyes lingering on me. For a moment, his gaze was hard to read—anger, guilt, ambition all twisted together. Then he turned and left, boots echoing softly down the hall.
Now it was just me and Hopsander. The frogman leaned close, speaking barely above a whisper: “Be careful with the power you gain. Captain Phillip will try to draw out your full potential. Captain Philip will help unleash the true keys to the Twin-blood power. He may try to push you in ways you won’t expect. Don’t lose yourself. Your moral code, your reason for being here—cling to that. Otherwise, you risk becoming another Waelid, driven by passion.”
I nodded, my throat tight. Was this a warning I could heed? Could I remain true to myself in the face of so many forces pulling at me?
Hopsander’s eyes held an intensity I’d never seen before. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small, polished stone, about the size of a coin. Its surface was etched with a single rune ‘Beetle’. “Keep this,” he said quietly. “It's Goro’s summoning rune. If you find trouble on the second floor—real trouble—break it. It will send a signal, and we will come.”
I took the stone, slipping it into my jacket. “Thank you, Captain.”
I took a step toward the exit, pausing in the narrow doorway. The dim corridor beyond seemed endless, lined with torches guttering softly. “I’ll do my best,” I said. “Just… keep an eye on Silas and Ruriel for me.”
Hopsander nodded once. “I will. Good luck, lad.”
I slipped into the hallway and quickly headed down a hallway to get back to the dorm. Each step I took away from that secret room brought me closer to an uncertain future.
Halfway down the corridor, I paused at an intersection, listening. The academy was quiet. No footsteps, no voices. Just the distant hiss of a torch. I turned left, heading toward the dorms. Another turn and I was in a narrower passage.
Something moved at the edge of my vision—a flicker of shadow, gone too fast. I froze, hand drifting toward my sword’s hilt. The corridor stretched before me, empty. Was it just my imagination?
I took another step. A soft scraping sound came from behind. I whirled around, drawing a sharp breath.
No one. Empty halls. My heartbeat drummed in my ears.
—‘We’re not alone,’ Fern whispered, anxiety dripping from his voice.
"Show yourself!" I said, loud enough to reach the end of the hallway but not a full yell.
I took another cautious step, and the torches above flickered, casting shifting patterns on the walls. Then, a faint whisper reached my ears—an indecipherable hiss of words that set my teeth on edge.
I spun again, sword drawn, breath caught in my throat. The pinging noise from my sword was a faint buzz right now. I ignored it and looked down the hallway.
There, at the far end of the corridor, a dark shape melted back into the shadows. It was the shape of a woman, with nine fox tails that were flickering softly in the darkness. Then a soft, mocking laugh drifted back to me. My grip tightened on the hilt, knuckles whitening.
“You need to leave Twin-Soul, leave, and keep your friends safe.” She hissed.
I tightened my grip and spoke. “Yeah? Well, let's say I do take that advice. Starting tomorrow I’ll be going up in the pillar. How about you find me there, yeah?"
The shadowy figure stepped to the side and disappeared in the darkness. Fear knotted in my belly as I stood alone in that dim corridor, facing a silent emptiness, knowing that just beyond the edge of the light, danger lurked, watching every move.
"If you get involved you know there's no going back, yes?" The voice said.
I swallowed hard and took a step backward. Another laugh, softer this time, echoed faintly as if from behind a closed door, or through a wall.
Outside, a gust of wind rattled a window somewhere. The torches flickered, plunging the corridor into a brief half-darkness.
When the light steadied, the hallway was empty again. No more voices, no more laughs, no more hisses.
I lowered my sword slowly, heart hammering. The nine-tailed woman....was she a friend? Or another enemy?