The induction into the Academy was exactly what one would expect: bright lights, artificial warmth, and a sea of nervous teenagers thrown into the mouth of hell and told to survive.
'Why is everyone on the staff so… beautiful?' Asteria wondered, her eyes gleaming. 'Is this what Awakening does? If so, sign me up for the deluxe package.'
Today was induction day. She'd lucked out; since the Spell followed no schedule, people were constantly "infected" and arriving at all hours. Inductions were held like clockwork on the first of the month, or weekly as the dread of the Winter Solstice drew closer.
Sleepers lined the walkway, clutching backpacks and even full suitcases. Asteria watched them with a mix of pity and annoyance. 'Don't they know they can't take any of that into the Dream Realm? Waste of space.'
The cafeteria was loud. Obnoxiously loud.
It was filled with teenagers who seemed to think the only way to process trauma was through endless chatter. They bragged about their Nightmares, asked invasive questions, and peacocked for attention.
'What a chore,' Asteria thought, finding a quiet corner.
Near the center of the room, that scruffy boy from the gates – Sunless, she heard someone call him – was already making a name for himself. He had a loud mouth and a catastrophic lack of a filter. Within minutes, the room had branded him an arrogant, rude degenerate.
Then, the smell hit her.
Actual food. Real, cooked meat and herbs – not the synthpaste that tasted like wet cardboard and looked like dirty concrete. Asteria's mouth watered. She might have looked half-crazed to the onlookers, but she didn't care. She was starving.
She joined the line, trying to maintain a veneer of calm while her stomach roared. She was in a daze of culinary anticipation until a voice snapped her back to reality.
"Mm?"
Asteria turned to find a small group of boys behind her, their gazes ranging from predatory to greedy.
"What's your name, pretty lady?" the tallest one asked, his eyes scanning her with a slow, disgusting unfamiliarity.
Asteria felt a wave of profound exhaustion. She'd never thought of herself as particularly attractive, especially coming from the battered outskirts. 'I am so not doing this today. Just turn around, Asteria. Ignore the oaf.'
She turned back to the food line.
"I'm talking to you." A hand clamped onto her shoulder, gripping her hard.
Asteria froze. 'Does this oaf actually want to die?'
"Yes? I don't believe we've met," she said, her voice dropping into a dangerous, icy register.
"Yeah, well, how about you head to my room tonight?" the boy said with a wide, lustful grin. "We're going to the Dream Realm in a month, after all. Might as well enjoy ourselves."
White sparks flared around Asteria's hand. The static in her soul coalesced into a physical form. For the first time, she summoned her Memory.
[Obsidian Glass] was a masterpiece.
The blade was long and narrow, forged from a translucent, mosaic-like material. It was almost transparent, refracting the cafeteria's harsh light into razor-sharp veins of indigo and violet. Within the glass, dark currents drifted like ink in water. The edge was impossibly thin, almost vanishing when viewed head-on.
The crossguard was minimal, a sleek indigo-black obsidian that curled around a grip wrapped in matte leather. It was a blade designed for one thing: the end of a life.
Asteria planted the cold flat of the blade against the boy's neck. Her eyes were twin shards of glass, devoid of any warmth. The cafeteria fell into a deathly, suffocating silence.
"Hands off, or your head goes with it," she said, her voice a harrowing whisper. "I don't particularly want to kill you, but you should learn that 'no' is a complete sentence."
The boy froze, his face draining of all color. Asteria could feel her pulse racing. 'I didn't expect it to be a sword! Do I even have the strength to pull this off?'
Ten seconds passed. Nobody moved.
"Hand. Move it," she demanded. She pressed the edge closer, drawing a thin, bright line of red against his collar.
The sting of pain shocked him into reality. He yanked his hand back, trembling.
"Thank you. Was that so hard, Oaf?"
"Oaf isn't my na-"
"It is now. Answer the question."
"Yes-"
CRASH.
"What do you think you're doing? Are you crazy?"
A man with brown hair and a gentle, handsome face stepped forward. His posture and the subtle glow of his presence screamed one word: Legacy.
"I believe I'm perfectly sane," Asteria countered, not moving the blade. "Tell your friend here to keep his hands to himself."
"Do you even know who he is?" the handsome stranger asked, looking genuinely baffled.
Asteria let out a long, weary sigh. "No. I don't know him, and I don't know you. Shall we do introductions, or is this the part where you try to play hero?"
The man visibly relaxed, though he kept a wary eye on the sword. "I'll go first. My name is Caster, of the Han Li clan."
'A Legacy. Fantastic.' Asteria thought.
"Asteria."
"Would you please dismiss that Memory, Asteria? My friend was out of line, but this has gone far enough."
"I could," Asteria said, gauging Caster's build. She knew instinctively she'd lose in a fair fight. "But let me ask you a question, Lord Caster. If a man touched a lady of your clan like this, what would happen?"
Caster's lips pursed. He looked at the Oaf, then back at Asteria. "If it were my clan... they would lose their hand. But-"
Asteria didn't let him finish. She gave a small, terrifyingly sharp grin. "That's all I needed to hear. Thank you for the legal advice, Lord Caster."
With a fluid, practiced motion she didn't know she possessed, Asteria flipped the blade.
"Like this, my lord?"
The [Obsidian Glass] hissed through the air. It wasn't a clean cut – the boy's scream made sure of that – but the blade was sharp enough that the deed was done before most people could blink.
A light thud echoed on the floor.
"Asteria! How dare you-" one of the boy's cronies started to lunge for her, but Caster held up a hand, silencing them.
"That was too far," Caster said, his voice tight as he looked at the dismembered hand and the sobbing boy. "There are healers here. We can fix this. Now, please... dismiss the blade."
The white sparks returned, and the sword dissolved back into Asteria's soul. Inside, her stomach was doing somersaults.
'I think I'm going to puke. That was so gross. Please don't call my bluff, I'm not as heartless as I look.'
"For the record," Asteria said loudly to the silent room, trying anything to steady herself and her rollercoaster sickness, "I just wanted to eat. He decided to be a predator. Sometimes the lesson of consent has to be taught the hard way. I'd suggest he remembers this one."
She turned back to the counter, picked up a tray, and started piling it with chicken. She gave Caster a pleasant, innocent smile – the kind of smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Now, if you'll excuse me? I'm starving."
The cafeteria remained unnervingly quiet as Asteria sat alone, digging into a roast chicken. It was the best thing she had ever tasted.
'Damnation, my life just got a lot more complicated,' she thought, tearing off a wing. 'So much for "don't make enemies."'
She glanced across the room and caught the scruffy boy, Sunless, staring at her with a look of intense, complicated wariness. She just winked at him and went back to her meal.
'At least I'm not as villainous as he's made himself' She lampooned.