Lavisa raced through the street, blood pumping in her ears. She could still hear it, feel it. The disheartening distress that bled into his quivering voice.


    Was a beast to blame? It wasn’t unheard of for a stray leader to slink past the barrier, and if it had…


    Faster.


    Lavisa pushed each stride harder than the last, the waning, morning-colored monoliths around her blurring, and though she could barely sense the heat, she caught the distinctive coppery whiff of burning blood. She stirred her Well with a fury, tossing the once calm energy over her core''s edge. This much wouldn’t be enough. She had to be faster.


    Tan?o turned to her, his eyes wide with panic. That look. She recognized that look. One wrought by the unholy glimpse of death standing at their doorstep.


    Lavisa wouldn’t make it. A beast would sweep him into its clutches, and if the stories were true, he’d…


    She cast the idea from her mind, reached into her Blood-Loader, and produced a bubbling phial. Uncorking the container, she whipped it forward, splashing its molten contents across the cracked street. Bolts of faint energy drew her boots towards the shimmering surface, promising stability, but instead of welcoming its embrace, she dispelled its grip.


    Lavisa burst forward in an explosion of rippling energy, the world thinning as she lost purchase. Gravity coaxed her to the center, but she leaned away, rejecting its seductive grip. Good blood, the start was awkward, but she couldn’t afford another second of stirring. Not now.


    A crescent stream of rippling blood veered towards Tan?o, drawing Lavisa along her predetermined course. There was still no haze in sight. Perfect.


    Lavisa twisted, held out an arm, and within the span of a second, felt something crash against her. She endured the bone-stabbing jolt of discomfort, hooking an arm around him as she promptly drew them to the side. The world roared in her ears as they spun.


    Lavisa felt for the floor, desperate to regain her balance, but there was nothing, only the hot air of the Firmament. Instead of crashing, she bounced. The floor repelled her like the firmest of mattresses.


    They knocked their heads against the street, and though it wasn’t painful, the nauseating experience of crashing repeatedly with no control whatsoever left her vision swimming.


    Throat-burning bile washed against her throat, making her gag, yet she clung to him. Clung to him until the world stilled, and then some.


    “Lavisa…” Tan?o wheezed.


    Lavisa tightened her hold. “Y-Yes? What is it? Are you well? What did you see?”


    “No…gonna…throw up…”


    Lavisa drew them into a sitting position, her Brand at her side. It wouldn’t do any actual damage, but perhaps a well-placed strike on the head would disorientate their opponent.


    “Where’s the beast?” she whispered into his ear.


    “B-Beast?” he rasped sickly.


    “Yes. Where is it?”


    “G-Good blood, can you stop? We need to help ?zar!”


    Lavisa released her grip. “?zar?”


    Before she could press him for specifics, Tan?o scrambled to his feet and made a mad break for a house at the center of the ruined street. Lavisa staggered to her feet, nearly tipped over, and once the world settled, followed him. The house he aimed for appeared as any other did: High, concaving walls, a looping fence of thin, silvery wires, and a crumbling porch painted red.


    Lavisa’s blood ran cold.


    She could see it: the faint outline of a still form hidden within the gloom. Their golden strands a brilliant tombstone not even the darkness could mask.


    The sound of something slick sliding against the floor jolted Lavisa from her reverie. A blur of motion crossed her sight, though it didn’t stop gracefully. They came to an awkward jerk, tripping over themselves and bouncing several times down the street until they crashed into a nearby building.


    With all the grace of a blood druk wolf, Jaster plopped face-first onto the faux lawn, his groan muffled by the malleable surface.


    Tan?o spun around to face them, his expression a cross between frustration and confusion. “Hurry!”


    The Nimmian grunted. “Give me…a minute…”


    Lavisa watched as Tan?o rushed to the corpse’s aid. There was nothing she, nor anyone else, could do. They were gone. Didn’t he realize that? Nothing would bring that Fadenician back. Not crying, begging, or asking God to show them a sliver of mercy. This was a power beyond them.


    The light would fade from their eyes; their breaths coming in shorter gasps until they ceased altogether. Then they’d sit in stunned, bitter silence. Wondering what more they could’ve done to extend their agony, even if for a brutal second.


    Lavisa’s breath shortened as Tan?o began shaking the body. When that didn’t work, he tried speaking to it, reminding them of the family that dearly missed them. Sorrow never once brushed her heart. Oh no. In its stead settled a low, bothersome heat that nagged at her core.


    Shaking him… Why? The dead deserved their rest. That’s why her father had ordered her to stop shaking that cold, lifeless body that had brought so much sunshine it hurt. And this commoner violated that peace. Treating the cadaver as if it were a mere plaything that would respond just because he wanted it to; just because he thought he was deserving of it.


    What arrogance.


    What ignorance.


    He profaned their shell. Wasted his voice, and if he dared cry, bastardized the joy they’d brought. All for what? Several seconds of grief?


    Despite the chest-tightening heat that threatened to consume her, Lavisa inched closer to the scene. Time thinned to a Cycle-spanning eternity. Her stiff legs drawn towards the absence in the Solanarium’s glory. Jaster arrived long before she ever did.


    “…isa…La…”


    Lavisa stared at the thing''s slack face. She found no pinch of discomfort, nor the furrowing of a distraught brow. Only serenity. A return to nothingness.


    “…help. Don’t know…”


    Lavisa refused to pry her gaze from the things mien. If her eyes drifted, then she''d remember. She didn’t want that; she had to be strong. If not for herself, then for them. It’s what A?el would’ve wanted.


    “Your highness!”


    Lavisa started. With nary a thought, she craned her neck to Tan?o, and though she was in full control, she wouldn''t cease trembling. “Yes?”


    “We need to get him out. Jaster and I can’t carry him all the way back by ourselves. We’ll need to switch off,” Tan?o said, an edge of panic in his voice.


    “I…no. We can’t.”


    “What? Why? Is there another way out? Maybe something faster than the lifts?”


    He’s dead. Don’t you understand? Dead. “No,” came her hollow response.


    Tan?o’s lips dipped. “What? Y’know what, forget it. Let’s just carry him. You’re stronger than us, so get his front. If you get tired, we can—”


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    “NO.”


    Tan?o recoiled at the volume of her voice. She wasn’t whether he appeared more confused, distressed, or desperate, but he wore all three well.


    “Wha—What do you mean no? Lavisa, he’s our classmate! He might not be a Vlasalisk, but that doesn’t mean—”


    “I never asked for your opinion on the matter, Tan?o. Nor do I consent to the removal of a corpse on academy grounds. If we must, we will report this matter to the proper authority.”


    Tan?o’s eyes widened. “Dead? He’s not dead! He’s not. If you looked at him for more than five seconds, you’d see that too!”


    The singular flame in Lavisa’s breast burst, suffocating all thoughts that wished to defy it. She set a cold, piercing gaze upon him, and summoning her father’s memory, began, “You dare defy your future sovereign, peasant? You, who has been graced with my presence, patience, and charity?”


    “No, I nev—”


    “And now you not only plainly defy me, but choose to insult me? I, a direct descendant of King Bastino I. The true and rightful heir of our great nation.”


    “What? No, no! I was just…I…”


    “I could have you gaoled for this slight. Perhaps thrown into some musty cell deep within Histell’s dungeons. Destined to wither away with your unmet aspirations.”


    Tan?o’s brow knit into an expression of supreme grief. He sat in silent obedience, though even that did little to deter her fury.


    “Hear me, and hear me well, D’Histell. You serve the crown of Corat?o. Not the Juneac?o, not a lord, not even God. You serve me. Do you understand? ME. Your ideals, our codes, those are second to my will. And they shall remain as such, so kneel. Beg for my forgiveness, and I shall absolve you of this crime.”


    The boy from Histell tightened his grip on the corpse’s uniform, squeezing the bloody uniform for all its worth.


    And the sight only infuriated her. “That was not a suggestion, D’Histell; that was an order. Kneel.”


    “…How do you know he’s dead?” Tan?o whispered.


    “He’s broken, Tan?o. Can’t you see that? The number of gashes, the dried blood, even his empty Blood-Loader. What more evidence do you require?” Her anger diminished to a cold flicker, leaving her hollow. Still, she kept the front. “Besides, this was inevitable. Juneac?o like ?zar aren’t destined for a peaceful end.”


    “You said…” Tan?o closed his eyes, his voice cracking. “You said that he was different, right? That he was talented. The first kid in fifteen years to be that good. How—How can he just be dead?”


    Lavisa swallowed a hot lump in her throat. “Talent doesn’t equate to invulnerability. If that were so, then the greatest Juneac?o would remain with breath in their lungs. Skill…it only leads to a swifter demise. I only hope his was a quick one.”


    “Don’t…just don’t say that.”


    “If you must grieve, then do so on academy grounds. Not here. I’d rather he receive all the honors of a proper burial, lest his Wish go unheard.”


    “…We can carry him. Check to see if he’s really gone. If we wait, then maybe it will be too late.”


    Jaster set a comforting hand on Tan?o’s shoulders. “It''ll be easier this way, Tan-Tan."


    Tan?o struck his thighs with a balled fist, the bruising strikes leaving his lips quivering. It was only after Jaster held his arm in place that he pried open his eyes. His gaze drawn to ?zar’s unholy form. “…What’re we gonna tell Canela?” he asked with a strained whisper.


    Jaster released his arm. “I don’t know.”


    “She has to know. We can’t just wait for the teachers to tell her and act like it’s okay.”


    “I can offer her a grievance sum,” Lavisa suggested.


    Tan?o gaped at her in utter disbelief. “NO. Don’t just give people money when someone dies! That won’t do anything.”


    “It’ll certainly give her extra funds.”


    Tan?o pushed himself to his feet and paced around the place. They would leave, but perhaps he needed a moment to cool off. Lavisa would grant him that much.


    The boy from Histell grumbled and swore to himself as he attempted to fabricate a solution. Not that Lavisa would allow it. ?zar was tall for his age, but unlike most students, possessed a filled-out physique. Broad shoulders, powerful forearms, and biceps that swelled with a taut strength. His abdomen was a rather...well, shameless topic she''s heard several of her housemates gossip about. With his uniform in tatters, she could see why.


    The revelation contrasted the typical image of the slouching third-year. She often forgot just how much time he spent hiding behind his sister. That, and his capes certainly worked wonders to mask his champion-like physique.


    No…these images didn’t fit. Had they discovered someone else? A poor sod washed in blood.


    As Lavisa attempted to merge the identities of the two students, a low, shuddering gasp ripped through the air. Her eyes darted to ?zar’s chest as it lurched with effort, his lungs raking in what oxygen they could. He was alive.


    Good blood, he was alive.


    Tan?o scrambled to his side in a flurry of motion, clasping the third-year’s hand in his. “?zar! Hey, can you hear me?”


    A second shallow breath followed, followed by a ragged cough. The third-year slowly cracked an eye open, never managing more than a thin vent.


    “Taní? What’re you doing here?” ?zar rasped.


    Tan?o forced out a glass chuckle. “What am I doing? You disappeared for a week and you''re asking how I''m doing?” He laughed again.


    “I suppose a little privacy is too much to ask for…”


    “You spend every day in a garden. What more privacy do you need?”


    “Yeah…flowers don’t complain much, but sometimes, I don’t want to be around anymore.”


    His lids fell, but before they could close, Tan?o squeezed his hand. “C’mon, get up. We need to get out of here.”


    “I—” ?zar coughed. “I think not, Taní.”


    “W-Why?”


    “Because…it’s nice and peaceful. No one to scold you, no one to remind you of this or that. It’s just perfect. I want to be down here. Forever.”


    Lavisa’s heart twinged. The low, trailing moan that followed his words, the exhaustion behind them… He’d pass, too. Regardless of what they did.


    “But what about Fadénix? You can’t just hole up here expecting they’ll forget about you,” Tan?o reasoned.


    A tired smile touched ?zar’s lips. “Forget about me? That’d be amazing.”


    “What?”


    “Yeah…guess you wouldn’t understand. That’s fine. I don’t blame you. Some people want to be remembered for all the good they do. Maybe even for being different or something more, but people like me?” ?zar sighed, closing his eyes. “Nah, it doesn’t matter. Complaining never does anything, anyways.” An uncomfortable silence elapsed until he spoke again. “Hey, Taní.”


    Tan?o sat him up with a grunt. “Yeah?”


    “You ever feel like you’ve nowhere left to go? That maybe you’re sinking and it’s too late to ask for help?”


    “I dunno.”


    “Yeah, neither do I. It’s just easier drowning in the mud. It''s a little comfortable after a while.”


    Tan?o trembled as he lifted ?zar from his spot. He wasn’t strong enough to carry him but helping him walk seemed like the next best thing. That is until ?zar uttered an unholy curse that would’ve made the dead turn in their graves.


    If it wasn’t for Jaster’s swift intervention, the third-year would’ve collapsed. His pinched face, however, revealed the muscle-straining effort it took to remain upright.


    “Taní,” ?zar wheezed.


    “I’m not going to leave you,” Tan?o gasped.


    “No, listen to me. It’s here.”


    “What''re you talking about?”


    ?zar leaned in and whispered something. Lavisa only caught one word: Fadénix. Tan?o’s eyes flickered wide open.


    “Wait…h-how? And where? No...are you sure?"


    “I heard it calling. Deep down near a tomb.”


    Tan?o responded with contemplative silence, his gaze drifting across the ground. There was something almost…calculating about the look.


    His sunset-field eyes came to a stop some thirty feet ahead of them, but all he did was stare. His lips slightly parted.


    “You can hear it too, right?” ?zar asked weakly.


    Tan?o shook his head. “What does it mean?”


    “Synthesis.”


    “Why’re you telling me this?”


    “Because Fadénix needs to be told.”


    “Then tell them yourself.”


    “Just leave me. Let this be my one and only good; let this be the favor that breaks our streak. If I—” A lung-rattling cough struck ?zar. One that soon devolved into a laugh. “Nah. No point in sulking now. Mother wouldn’t like that. Just get on up there, alright? They''ll be happy."


    “NO.” Tan?o roared, his defiance echoing in Lavisa’s ears like a thunderbolt. “I’m not gonna leave you. Not here. I don’t care if you think you’re the shittiest person in Hierrsé, you’re still my Housemate. That’s why I’ll watch out for you like you watched out for me.”


    “Taní…”


    “And what about Canela, huh? Are you just going to abandon her, too? Do you think she’s just going to forget about you like it''s nothing?”


    ?zar bit his lip, his crimson-green eyes robbed of that faux joy he’d used to mask his fear of death. In their stead was but a deep, remorseful glint. One that threatened to overshadow the gloom.


    “She’s your sister, ?zar. The one person who’s known you your entire life. If she were a friend, or maybe some random Housemate, then maybe it’d be different; maybe it wouldn’t even matter, but her? She won’t forget you. Even when she’s so old she can’t remember the year, she won’t forget about you. You’ll be the first thing on her mind. And one day, maybe the last.” Tan?o stepped forward on trembling legs, and so did Jaster. ?zar hissed, but that didn’t deter the first-years. “I can’t make you choose if you want to stay; I can’t even tell you to be happy. But you wanna know one thing? We’ll get there. I don’t know how, but we’ll get there. Cuz the alternative is hurting the people you love the most, and you won’t even be around to regret it.”


    Lavisa’s throat tightened. The way he spoke reminded her of A?el. Uncertain, but confident. A person who didn’t believe in lies but knew there would be more than sorrow. They just needed to try.


    Maybe…maybe it could work out. Maybe there could be more than disappointment.


    Forgetting her doubt, she approached them, prepared to offer her aid, but a clicking rumble resonated from the corner, stopping her.


    There it was—the hulking, hazy form of a hound with wings as it rolled into view like an eerie fog. One taller than even a Lunarkin. A pack leader.