The academy was a labyrinth of stone and shadows.
Narrow corridors lined with columns that disappeared into the ceiling. Skylights letting in the faint light of the setting sun. Portraits of old masters that seemed to follow me with their eyes whenever I passed. It smelled of wax, parchment, and sweat.
I wandered aimlessly.
Sara was in the vocalists' courtyard, practicing incantations. I saw her in passing, repeating ancient syllables without managing to ignite the flame at her fingertips. Frustration etched on her face. I didn't interrupt her.
Ariny was in the library. I saw her too – sitting in a dark corner, surrounded by piles of books, her eyes scanning endless pages. She didn't look at me when I passed. She pretended not to see me, or didn't want to see me. Perhaps both.
Ana… Ana was in her room.
At least that's what I thought. I hadn't seen her since our arrival. The only time I tried to speak with her, the door closed before I could finish my sentence.
"Don't take it to heart," Sara had said at the time. "It's the revulsion. She didn't choose it."
"I know."
But it still hurt.
---
The academy's front courtyard was enormous, flanked by statues of griffins and stone lions. The older students trained there with real swords – the clang of steel echoing against the walls. The ground was marked with ancient scars, dark grooves that told stories of past duels.
It was there that Daniel Daniarólis found me.
"Macano's chosen one," he said, loud enough for the others to hear. He had dark hair shaved at the sides, wearing the blue tunic of Derylini. An angular face, narrow eyes. Older than me. Stronger. More experienced. Third year at the academy. "The slave the gods smiled upon."
"Are you talking to me?"
"Is there another chosen of Macano in this courtyard?"
The others laughed. I clenched my fists.
"What do you want?"
"I want to see if divine blood helps you hold a sword." Daniel drew his blade. The steel gleamed, sharp. "A duel. Here. Now."
"It's against the rules."
"Rules are for the weak. Are you weak?"
I hesitated. I looked around. The other students had stopped training. Their eyes were on me. The silence, too.
"No."
I drew my sword. The iron one, heavy, bought at the Derys market. It wasn't Andy's sword. It had no name. It was just a weapon.
"Begin," someone said.
---
Daniel attacked first.
He was fast. Faster than I expected. The first strike missed my neck by inches. The second hit my shoulder – a superficial cut, but it burned like fire.
I stepped back. Raised my sword. Tried to block.
The third strike disarmed me.
The blade flew from my hand, spun in the air, fell to the ground with a dry thud. Daniel pointed the tip of his sword at my chest.
"That was quick," he said, and it wasn't a compliment. "Macano's chosen one. What a disappointment."
The other students laughed.
I said nothing. I just walked away, my shoulder burning, my face on fire.
"How is it that a slave gets chosen by the strongest god?" Daniel shouted at my back. "How do you spend your life swimming in privileges? What kind of justice is that?"
I didn't answer.
What could I say? He was right.
---
The girls' dormitories were in the north wing, separated from the boys' by a stone staircase and an iron arch. The corridors were empty.
I knocked on Ana's door.
No one answered.
"Ana," I called softly. "I know you're in there."
Silence.
I heard footsteps inside the room. They approached the door. Stopped.
"No," she said from the other side. Her voice was cold. Distant.
"I just want to talk."
"I can't. The revulsion… I can't. Your presence…"
"The duel. I lost."
"I know."
"How do you know?"
"Everyone knows. You were humiliated."
I pressed my hand against my wounded shoulder.
"So I came just to… to say that…"
"I know." Her voice cut me off. "Go away, Ethan."
I didn't open the door.
I stood there, staring at the varnished wood. The footsteps retreated. Then silence.
---
I gave up.
I turned my back and walked toward the staircase. My head full of thoughts. Shame burning in my chest.
That's when the body fell on top of me.
"Ouch!"
A tray of dirty laundry flew into the air. White cloths scattered over the steps. I stumbled, lost my balance, but managed to catch the girl before she hit the ground.
"Forgive me, sir!" the maid stammered, her eyes wide. She wore grey, a stained apron. She couldn't have been more than twenty. "Forgive me, I didn't see you. The steps are so steep…"
"It's all right." I helped her straighten up. "Are you hurt?"
"I… no." She adjusted her apron, picked up the clothes. Her hands were trembling. "Thank you, sir. You are very kind."
"You don't need to thank me."
I made to leave. She grabbed my arm.
"Wait."
"What?"
She looked one way, then the other. Lowered her voice.
"I heard… the guards talking. There's a letter. From Duke Decatry. I delivered it to the director today."
"A letter? From Andy?"
"Yes. They say…" She swallowed hard. "Trussum is out. The demon lord. He came out of the second portal."
I smiled. The girl looked genuinely frightened.
"Trussum? That's a rumour. Demon lords don't just come out like that, without warning."
"I swear, sir. I saw the letter. The duke wrote to Director Irina. They don't want anyone to know, but…"
"Did you read it?"
"No! I can't read. But I heard what the messenger said." Tears began to stream down her face. "He said the demon is here. In Endomyar. And no one knows where."
"Don't cry." I touched her shoulder. "They're just rumours. People like to invent stories."
She looked at me. Her eyes big, wet.
"Do you believe it? That it's a lie?"
"I don't know." I sighed. "But don't tell anyone else. It could cause panic."
She nodded, clutched the cloths to her chest.
"Thank you, sir. I'm sorry for the trouble."
And she ran off down the stairs, leaving me alone.
I stood still.
'Trussum. The great liar. He came out of the portal.'
'If it's true…'
I clenched my hand. My shoulder still burned.
I looked at the empty corridor. At Ana's closed door.
*If it's true, what are we waiting for?*
---
— INTERLUDE —
Far away, in Delizy – a small village of shepherds in the foothills of Derylini – the bells of the sheep tinkled in the wind.
They were bronze bells attached to leather cords, tied around the animals' necks. Each sheep had its own, and each bell tinkled with a different sound – high, low, hoarse, metallic. The green field stretched to the hills, bathed in the warm, strange light of Endomyar's two suns. The sky was red and purple, as always. As it had always been.
One sheep strayed from the flock.
Its bell tinkled. The wind blew. The grass bent.
At the entrance of a dark stone farmstead, a figure stopped.
Blood-red hair. Grey eyes. Traveller's clothes.
Trussum smiled.
"What a beautiful place," he murmured, his voice sweet as a whisper. "It will be a shame."
The wind blew stronger. The sheep bleated, restless. The demon's shadow stretched across the ground, in the opposite direction of the sun – a small irregularity that no shepherd would have noticed.
No one ever noticed.
The Trásserius flowers, black as holes, were blooming on the deserted island. The great liar walked across the green grass of Derylini. And the academy, the stone fortress where the chosen ones learned to fight against evil, was days away.
The bells tinkled.
The sheep wandered further.
Trussum disappeared toward the farmstead.