-Year 7335, Derylini Peninsula – Road to the Academy-
I wake before the sun.
The inn room is still dark, but I can no longer sleep. The mattress is hard, the blanket thin, and my thoughts won't stop.
Gustavo is already up, speaking quietly with the innkeeper in the hallway. I catch fragments: "cart... mules... half a day's walk...". His leg is still wrapped in cloth strips, but he doesn't complain. He never complains.
I put on my tunic, lace my boots. The sword leans against the wall — a simple iron sword, bought at the Derys market. It's not Andy's. I lost that one at the bottom of the sea. This one is heavier, less balanced. It will do.
At breakfast, the girls come down one by one. Sara is first, already bright-eyed, animated. Ariny follows, silent as always, her brow slightly furrowed. Ana is last.
She doesn't look at me. She doesn't need to. The discomfort fills the air when we sit at the same table. Sara tries to make conversation, but Ana answers in monosyllables. Ariny watches, as if studying an insect.
"Today we're going to the academy," Sara says with a smile. "Finally."
"We haven't arrived yet," Ana replies.
"But we will. Today."
"Or tomorrow. Depends on the road."
"Don't be pessimistic."
"I'm not pessimistic. I'm realistic."
Gustavo enters the room, a bowl of porridge in his hand.
"The cart is ready. The road is long, but we can make it in a day. If it doesn't rain."
"And if it does?" asks Sara.
"We get wet."
---
The cart is a wooden plank on wheels, pulled by two grey mules. The driver is a quiet middle-aged man with an unkempt beard and a look that has seen too many roads.
Gustavo sits beside the driver. The four of us sit in the back, on uncomfortable wooden benches.
The road rises and falls over hills covered in blue and red pines. The air is fresh, almost cold, but the sun is starting to warm our backs.
In the distance, the Derylini lighthouse shines against the clear sky. During the night, we saw its light blinking on the horizon. Now, by day, the stone tower looks smaller than I imagined.
"Have you ever been there?" I ask Sara, pointing at the lighthouse.
"No. Mother says it's dangerous. There's corruption in the rocks."
"Corruption?"
"What comes out of the portals. If you spend too long near it, you go mad. Or die."
Ariny adds, without looking at me:
"That's why the island where Trussum came out is deserted. No one can live there."
"Trussum?"
"A demon lord. The great liar. They say he's the weakest, but also the smartest." Ariny falls silent. Her gaze fixes on the horizon. "Father spoke of him at the meeting."
"And what is he going to do?"
"No one knows. That's why he's dangerous."
---
Later, we meet other travellers on the road.
A smaller cart, pulled by a thin horse, carries three young people. The first is a dark-haired boy with brown eyes, wearing a blue tunic. He introduces himself as Renan. The others — a girl with red braids and a younger round-faced boy — are his companions.
"Are you going to the academy?" asks Renan, with an open smile.
"We are," Sara replies.
"So are we. We're from Elasér, but my parents aren't nobles. I'm a scholarship student. I earned a place in the magic tournaments."
I look at him. He doesn't seem older than me.
"Scholarship?"
"It's when you don't pay. You have to be good."
"Are you good?"
"I'm decent." He looks at my hands, at my sword. "Are you a knight?"
"A squire."
"Ah. So you'll go to combat classes. I'm going for vocal magic. Mana is my thing."
His companions are shyer. The girl, Lena, barely opens her mouth. The boy, Dorian, just smiles.
Gustavo chats with their driver — an old man, also quiet.
"Shall we travel together?" suggests Renan.
Ana looks at him with distaste. Then she looks at me. Then at nothing.
"We'll travel together," Sara replies, before anyone can refuse.
---
The two carts move side by side.
Renan talks nonstop. About the academy, the teachers, the legends. His parents are merchants. He discovered mana at fourteen, alone, reading ancient scrolls.
"Do you know how to use magic?" he asks me.
"No."
"Why not?"
"I can't."
"Everyone can."
"I can't."
He looks at me, confused, but doesn't insist. Lena, the red-haired girl, watches me at intervals. Her eyes are green, attentive.
Sara tries to befriend Dorian, who is younger than he looks. She discovers he's afraid of the dark and that his mother forced him to go to the academy to "gain courage". Sara laughs, but kindly.
Ana keeps her distance.
Always distant.
---
"Why don't you talk to them?" I ask her, at a moment when the cart slows down.
She looks at me. Her expression is neutral, but her eyes... her eyes don't lie. The revulsion is there, latent.
"I don't like new people."
"They're just three."
"Three too many."
"You'll have to deal with many at the academy."
"I know." She looks away. "I'm practising."
"Practising?"
"Practising patience. Father said I need to."
"Your father gives good advice."
"He does. But I prefer my own."
Silence returns. Sara, from the back, calls me to hear a story Renan is telling.
I stand up. But before I move away, Ana adds:
"The revulsion... it's not about you. It's about what you are. Don't take it personally."
"I don't."
"You do. I see it in your eyes."
"Then stop looking into them."
She doesn't reply. The cart creaks. The road goes on.
---
Lunch is under a tree with thin leaves, where mana gathers at the tips, glowing faintly.
Renan shares bread and cheese. His companions eat in silence. Gustavo stretches his leg, groaning softly.
"Is your friend always like that?" Renan asks, nodding toward Ana, who eats alone a few metres away.
"Always," Sara replies.
"Is she shy?"
"She's... complicated."
"Ah. I understand."
He doesn't understand. No one does. Not even me.
---
We talk about the academy. Renan knows more than we do.
"There are four main courses," he explains, drawing on the ground with a stick. "Vocal magic, for those with a knack for power words. Written magic, for those who prefer scrolls and runes. Material magic, for alchemists and herbalists. And knighthood, for those who want to fight with sword and armour."
"And the gods' chosen ones?" asks Sara. "Where do they fit in?"
"Chosen ones don't use magic. They have divine power. So they either go for knighthood, or for theory. History, bestiary, strategy. Commander stuff."
"So I'll go for knighthood," I say.
"Do you think you have talent?"
"No. But I'll try."
Renan laughs. It's a genuine laugh, without malice.
"I like you, Ethan. You're honest."
"I'm terrible at lying."
"That's also good." He looks at Ana, who no longer eats, just watches the horizon. "Your friend... was she hurt?"
"Why?"
"She has a scar on her chest. Was it a wound?"
I remember the ice. The blood. Ana falling to her knees, her chest pierced.
"It was a monster," I reply. "She killed it."
Renan doesn't ask more.
---
Afternoon falls.
The road climbs a steep hill. The mules tire, the driver calls to them, the cart creaks. Gustavo gets off and walks beside it, leaning on a stick.
"Is it much further?" asks Sara.
"An hour, maybe two," Gustavo replies. "The academy is at the top of the hill. They say it was built at the highest point of the peninsula to watch over the sea and the mainland."
"And the elves?" asks Dorian, timid.
"The elves are in another layer," Ariny replies. "They haven't mixed with us for centuries."
"They say they're beautiful."
"They say many things."
The lighthouse is now behind us, small as a needle. Ahead, the top of the hill reveals the first towers.
"There," Gustavo points. "That's the academy."
The building is enormous. Dark stone walls, round towers, high windows. An iron gate flanked by statues of faceless warriors. Above the walls, slate roofs are visible, and at the centre, a golden dome shining in the setting sun.
The library. They say it contains scrolls from the foundation of the world.
"It's beautiful," Sara murmurs.
"It's big," says Ariny.
"It's scary," adds Dorian.
Ana says nothing. She just looks.
---
Renan's group says goodbye when we reach the village near the gates.
"We'll stay there tonight," he says, pointing to a red-roofed inn. "Entry to the academy is only tomorrow morning. Until then, we rest."
"Until tomorrow," Sara replies.
"I enjoyed meeting you," Renan says, and the smile is genuine. "Especially you, Ethan. You're strange, but good company."
"You're strange too."
"I am. But with style."
They disappear toward the inn. We are left alone on the road, with the academy in the distance.
Gustavo sighs.
"We'll rest too. I don't want to enter at nightfall."
"Why not?" asks Sara.
"Because the gates close at sunset. And the guard there is known to be ill-tempered."
"You know the guard?"
"I do. I was young once."
---
The village is small, stone houses with thatched roofs. The inn Gustavo takes us to is called "The Tired Warrior". The owner is a fat, rosy-faced man who serves wild boar stew and dark bread.
We eat in silence.
Ana is by the window, looking at the academy. The twilight light outlines her profile.
Sara tries to talk to Ariny about the courses.
"I'll try vocal magic," says Sara. "It seems easier."
"It's the most dangerous," Ariny replies. "If you say the wrong word, you can explode."
"Then I'll go for written magic."
"It takes years to learn."
"Then I won't go anywhere."
"You will. You have time."
Gustavo takes a sip of wine.
"Tomorrow we enter. Then classes. Whatever comes, comes."
I look at Ana. She still hasn't turned around.
"What will you study?" I ask.
She takes a while to answer.
"Destruction."
"That's not a course."
"It is. Mine." She turns, her eyes dark. "I'm going to learn to control what I have."
"The mark?"
"The mark. The power. The rage."
"And then?"
"Then I kill the remaining monsters."
The air grows heavy. No one says anything.
Sara breaks the silence with an innocent question.
"Ana... aren't you afraid of us anymore?"
"Afraid?"
"Of hurting someone."
Ana looks at her own hands.
"I am. But fear won't stop me."
The stew cools in the bowls. The candle on the table flickers.
Outside, the academy waits.