A beast the size of a carriage padded towards them, its paws gliding across the ground like a mist poured from the morning sea.


    It came to a creeping stop some ways before them, the air crackling with delighted frost as its unblinking pockets for eyes stared at them. It exhausted no effort in halting, almost as if the energy propelling had been nothing more than his imagination trying to justify its flickering from one position to the other.


    “Jaster?” Taní whispered.


    “Yeah?” the Nimmian whispered back.


    “Start moving slowly.”


    “What! Are you kidding? Do you even see what''s in front of us? Ask for my mum''s arm why don''t you."


    “Fine. Then we’ll just stand here until it does something.”


    Jaster groaned. “I swear to God, I’m never coming down here with you again.”


    Taní rolled his eyes. Had the Nimmian already forgotten who invited who?


    The beast lowered its head, tracking them with a swivel so smooth that no living being—animal or not—could reproduce. It had a snout, yet it never breathed; it had ears, though they weren’t pricked. Those eyes, and only those eyes, shimmered with thought. A terrible whiteness ringed by twinkles so black that they dripped with tears of ink.


    “Tan?o,” came Lavisa’s low voice.


    He chanced a glance at her. “Yeah?”


    “I’ve an idea.”


    “Well? You don''t need my permission.”


    Lavisa dipped her head. “Given its size, the beast appears to be a pack leader.”


    A shiver ran the course of his spine. Eyes darting, he searched the ruins for echoing traces of its minions, but when he descried none, he asked, “Where are the others?”


    “Someways past the seventh floor. Linefeeders are far too weak to cross the barrier.”


    Taní relaxed. “So, we’re good?”


    “No. Pack leaders are faster and stronger than their diminutive minions. A true match for an experienced squire.”


    “Then what you’re saying is…”


    “That we’re outmatched?” Lavisa finished for him. “No. We are, however, ill-prepared to combat this menace. We’ve no weapons nor armor to ward off its blows, and seeing as its claws can rend wood, I suggest we err on the side of caution."


    Taní kept shuffling to the side, knees buckling as ?zar burdened him. That thing had probably rendered the third-year crippled, and if he was as strong as she said he was, then Taní, Jaster, and Lavisa stood no chance of besting the beast.


    “…thers…” ?zar wheezed.


    Taní leaned in. “Come again?”


    “Others…here… It wasn’t the only… Eighteen…maybe twenty. Couldn’t fight them all. Couldn’t—” ?zar bit his tongue, silencing a scream.


    Taní tossed a critical glance down the street. There was nothing there except—


    His heart stopped. Yes, there. He couldn’t see it well, but it was there, staring.


    Another beast.


    It didn’t glide right, though. If anything, it hovered to one side. A once-over revealed that its left leg was missing, but no blood poured from the spot.


    Taní slapped himself. He had to focus. No matter what happened, no matter how many there were, they’d survive. They only had to act smart.


    “Tan?o,” Lavisa called.


    He grunted. “Yeah?”


    “I… About earlier. I—” She hesitated, her stoic fa?ade returning a second later. “We need to reach the first floor.”


    “Won’t it just follow us?”


    “Not past the first barrier. Though the second and third floors tend to waver in strength, the first remains a stalwart defender of the academy’s peace. No beast, no matter how mighty, can break through.”


    “Okay, I already knew that, so why’re you stating the obvious?”


    Lavisa’s jaw tightened. “I only wished to remind you before I draw its enmity.”


    “D-Draw It away? As in…you’re going to distract it?” Taní asked with a slight quiver.


    “In a manner of speaking.”


    “No! Why would you even think of that? Are you stupid?”


    Lavisa’s eyes narrowed. “I am your future rul—”


    “You’re going to be bloody dead if you don’t think right!”


    All but the beast flinched at Taní’s outburst. Training his eyes on the animal, he continued. “Look. I’m not a prince, or a princess, or whatever. I’m just a kid who had to grow up with dirt and like it. I don’t pretend to know better just cuz of that, and I don’t think I’ll ever amount to more than a disappointment to all the nobles, but why would YOU, a bloody PRINCESS of all people, risk your life for two students and a foreigner?”


    “As future monar—”


    “You should attach dead with how you’re acting.”


    A light blush dusted Lavisa’s cheeks. “I will not tolerate these slights, Tan?o. Not upon my honor. It is solely through my bloodline’s efforts that this kingdom persists. Were it not for us, then there would be no freedom, no Juneac?o, and no peace.”


    “And I completely understand that! Really! What I don’t understand is why you want to extinguish all of that.” Taní adjusted his stance so his sore shoulder wouldn''t scream at him. “Think about it. If you die, do you think your cousins’ll grant the privilege of the throne to the oldest? No. They’ll fight over a stupid chair like all the Tyrians, and it’s all because you thought it would be ‘noble’ to risk your life for three people nowhere near your level. Guess what? Any good leader knows their life comes before everyone else’s. They’re a sign! All the hopes and dreams of the people who just want more in life. That’s why Juneac?o pledge themselves to a sovereign before any Order or lord. Because they’re preserving more than your life—they’re preserving the hopes, dreams, and Wishes of everyone that exists!” Tan?o argued breathlessly.


    Lavisa’s embarrassment melted into anguish. She glanced at ?zar, then at the beast; her eyes telling two different stories.


    “If I remain idle, then you’ll—”


    “Nobody’s died yet, Lavisa,” Taní echoed Danza’s sentiment. He met her eyes, and though he had nothing to offer, flashed the princess a small, comforting smile. “So save your tears for another day. They''re better when you''re happy.”


    Lavisa’s lips parted, but every attempt to utter a response was met with failure.


    Taní spared the nearby bloody mound of rubble an inquisitive glance and spotted ?zar’s sword. It was a longsword. He had experienced with those, even if the one Danza had trained him with had been nothing more than a piece of hardwood.


    “Lavisa,” Taní called, “my shoulder’s a little stiff. Mind taking him for a moment?”


    Lavisa nodded, swiftly taking his spot without issue. Since she was taller than Jaster, she had to bend down to avoid causing ?zar discomfort. Then, once Taní was free, he bolted towards the sword. Pouring every ounce of energy he possessed into each stride.


    He broke into a slide, leaned towards the mound, and snatched the blade from its makeshift hill. The added weight coaxed him sideways, so he fell into the motion, opting to follow instead of fight. He wrestled against the whirling world, lifted the blade high, and tossed it with a wild spin upon his final revolution!


    The silvery typhoon whipped through the air, singing with crimson glee as it grazed the trio. Until, finally, it struck the beast! Severing its leg with a clean, misty slice.


    A distorted, whistling-click pierced the air as the thing collapsed. Hurt, but very much alive.


    “Go!” Taní yelled.


    Lavisa twisted around to face him. “Ta—”


    “Hurry!”


    Jaster stepped away, compelling Lavisa to follow his lead, lest she further impair ?zar.


    Taní tried following, but the moment he made it onto the street, the beast lunged at him. He slid out from under its attack, snatching the handle of the discarded blade as he went. Stumbling onto his knees, he gauged the distance. The thing was too far for a proper counterattack, so muscles bunched, he hurled the weapon with all the desperation he could muster, the blade whirling in beat with his hammering heart.


    The beast ducked, resulting in the blade clattering harmlessly against the side of the nearby ruined building.


    It swiped at Taní in retaliation, its blacker-than-night claws thinning the air with abyssal bolts. It was fast, but only half as fast as Lavisa’s sword strokes.


    He dove out from underneath its path, the blade-like nails reducing the Firmament to a shimmering aftershock. Scrambling to his feet, Taní discovered his earlier fatigue replaced with the unparalleled desire to live. So, he blindly darted into the building ahead, hoping the entrance would keep the beast at bay.


    The welcoming glow of sunset stone greeted Taní as his eyes furiously adjusted to the interior''s luminosity, but before he had a moment to relax, the building quaked. Each shudder dispelled particles from the ceiling in great geysers of dust, daubing the spotless furniture with age.


    Suddenly, the entrance burst open in an explosion of sun-melting fervor. Taní shielded his face from the spray of dim stone, but none pelted him. The beast came barreling towards him in the shower of debris. With panic guiding him, he sprinted down the hall, the beast’s hulking mass tearing through the slim passage.


    A door greeted him at the end of the hall, but instead of stopping and throwing it open, he threw his shoulder forward. There was no impact. He just sliced through the air.


    Bewildered, Taní stumbled, his adrenaline drowning out logic as he aimed for the only window in what he assumed to be a bedroom.


    Taní threw himself through it, but just like the door, there was no resistance. A discovery that did more harm than good, as he had used all his strength to toss himself forward. He soared, and for a brief moment, wondered if this was what crashing birds experienced.


    A blinding flash of red light eliminated all thought, his bones stiff in all the wrong places. Finally, he realized he was lying in front of a dead tree. He pushed himself up with a groan, his head throbbing with an all too familiar ache.


    Good blood, I really need to wear a helmet.


    Taní grappled with a crippling wave of nausea as he stumbled to his feet. A headache wouldn’t stop him. There were worse things than a slight bump on the head, like being eaten alive by an unholy creature, or being late to master Yedevar’s class.


    A deep, rumbling-click dispelled all thought from Taní''s mind. It brushed against his right ear, and it sounded close.


    Too close.


    He glanced from the corners of his eyes and when he couldn’t see it, turned. There was another beast. This one with all its legs.


    A resounding thump echoed from behind, growing louder and louder until Taní thought his eardrums would burst. Thunder in his ears, the beast before him snapped, its jaws flying towards his head.


    The beast from before broke onto the scene, clumsily crashing into Taní’s would-be attacker in a shower of sunset stone.


    Taní scrambled from his spot and down a slim alley. He mapped out the route in his mind, but as he exited the passage, he spotted a single beast to his left. Its voidless eyes set on him. So, Taní made for the right, keeping a close eye on the blinking haze that glided towards him. Once he was far enough, he broke into a sprint, his legs carrying him as fast as humanly possible.


    Taní swallowed and attempted to take the next turn, but there, waiting for him, were a pair of beasts. He caught a snippet of high-pitched whistling-clicks from the distance. Were those two still fighting?


    Wait…


    If he could recreate the circumstances of that collision, he could turn them against one another! That would work. It had to.


    He only hoped his skull was durable enough to survive several more impacts.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Taní escaped into the safety of a nearby building and began inching his way back, eyes to the entrance. Calm. He just had to calm down. Think clearly. Being distracted by the harrowing fear of death wouldn’t help him now.


    If that current group tracked him, it meant they had to take turns bashing in the entrance. Maybe they’d even crash into each other and instigate another fight.


    A small smirk tugged at his lips. Tan?o, the great vanquisher of beasts. Too bad they’re stupider than they are scary.


    Debris exploded from behind him, scattering the hall in dim orange chunks as the quarreling beasts barreled through the passage, snapping at each other’s necks.


    Taní crept back towards the entrance, but it was too late. The haze had already broken through the front door, leaving a gap large enough to fit three.


    Short of breath, Taní returned to the two, and while he briefly entertained the notion of sneaking by, he decided against it. He was as likely to be injured by them as the ones actively hunting him.


    With nowhere else to go but up, he zipped across the staircase and onto the second floor. The house quaked as the beasts tore through the walls. Good blood, they were going to bring him down with them.


    If he reached the roof, then he could climb down. Maybe even find a fence tall enough to latch onto! No. The rooftops were his best bet for safety.


    Favoring possible injury to mutilation by beast, he devoted himself to the completely sane idea of rooftop jumping. He picked out the first window he saw, calculated the distance, and dashed with excessive urgency.


    He was, however, as bad at mathematics as he was in literature.


    Taní came short of the jump, banging his head against the sharp edge of the roof, and while the ungodly, stabbing pain crushing his skull lanced through him, an encapsulating sear arrested his right leg upon landing.


    The only leg that managed to get a solid foot on the ground.


    He couldn’t scream, he couldn’t howl, he couldn’t even curse. The heat silenced him, and with a stiff stumble, he promptly collapsed. Soon enough, the threading pain was replaced with a static, needling fuzz.


    Once it faded, Taní blinked, his mind swimming with exhaustion. He was staring up at the faux moon, his wet forehead throbbing.


    God, not again…


    With a deep breath, Taní rolled onto his hands and knees and pushed. A mind-bending, molten claw ripped through his right leg, lighting every nerve ablaze. His breath caught, dying with a squeak before promptly collapsing. He gasped breathlessly, squeezing a handful of palm-numbing rocks, and though the abyss beckoned him, he resisted its icy touch.


    He rolled onto his back, gulping air as the iron brand slowly withdrew from his flesh. His thoughts reduced to hazy wisps, their meaning lost.


    Nothing had ever felt this bad before. Not falling off of Blondie mid-gallop, nor slamming into a wall. He could live with all of those injuries, but this?


    Taní sucked in a stale breath, preparing himself for the task ahead. That’s when he noticed it. Or rather, the lack of it.


    The grunts and clicking-whistles of the beasts.


    Taní strained his ears to catch a sound, and when that didn’t work, he peered down the alleyway. Nothing.


    He swiftly rolled onto his stomach, balanced himself on one knee (the one connected to his good leg), then held his breath. The other came down, and he pushed.


    The heat reignited tenfold, coaxing a mangled scream from his throat. Inch after inch, he slowly stood back to his full feet, until finally, he stilled. His right leg feeling stiffer than a used pole, and hotter than a Sun’s Peak day.


    Clearing his mind of all concerns, he stepped forward, and slipped on his bad leg. A thousand blazing needles exploded from the bone, embedding themselves in the twisted muscle that sent his mind reeling into a crescendo of blazing white agony.


    He fell again, cursing and screaming until oxygen voided his lungs. Only then did the pain recede.


    Can’t stay here…can’t…


    He dragged himself forward with what little strength he possessed.


    Lavisa…


    Their first voyage felt so long ago. A month and a half…


    Seeing her smile, hearing her laugh for the very first time, even the way she treated him! So different from the rest, yet she still put up an act.


    Taní groaned as he took a brief respite, and after sucking in more oxygen, pulled.


    Jaster…


    The Nimmian was his first friend. Invited him when no one else wanted him around, cooked, and studied together! They even had their own exclusive room to relax in. Not many could brag about that. Then there was his House. They had never been particularly inviting, but Canela and ?zar were exceptions. Sure, they were strange, but who wasn’t?


    Taní dragged himself out from the alleyway, only to discover the beasts from before waiting around the corner. They stared at him with those unblinking, twinkling eyes. So infinite and deep. Like the Desolator''s hide.


    Realizing what would happen next, Taní reached into his Blood-Loader and uncorked a phial.


    “Do you know how to make a Wish, Taní?” came Danza’s phantom recollection.


    Blood painted the ground in currents of dull, rippling red matter.


    “Some think it’s all about praying and hoping. Y’know, the easy, private way, but that ain’t how it works with Juneac?o. We don’t have that fortune.”


    Taní scraped the shimmering stream into a crude circle with his thumb, leaving just enough puddles inside to create delicate arches and sweeps. The moon. The sun.


    “Y’need something good. Fear, hope, happiness, life. The things that make you, you. One phial won’t do it. Two ain’t good enough. You’ve got to give everything. Cuz having so many children means you can’t spare others the time.”


    Taní sketched the last mark upon the glyph, his thumb caked in blood. Finished, he pressed a hand against the lukewarm surface of the Wisher’s Well. The same mark that branded their eyes upon Awakening. If he ever had one.


    It was their Mother’s favor made manifest.


    Tygenna. Taní called out into the recesses of his mind. Mother, the first, the greatest of all dreamers, I beseech you in my final hour. Grant unto me your favor, my destined Wish.


    Something stirred. It was here, but not. A heat that dwelled within the shell of permafrost.


    I want nothing. Just like all the great Juneac?o before me, I want nothing. A smile cracked on his lips. Well, almost. I want something, but I’m not sure if it''s right. Or even if I deserve it.


    The static jolt of haze neared.


    Maybe I don''t. Maybe I’m just asking for nothing in the end. Someone’s probably asked for it, no doubt. They’re amazing, after all. Even then, I… Taní’s throat bobbed as the padding neared. I want Jaster to always have a tasty meal every day. Maybe something so delicious that it’d help him make lots of friends. And Lavisa… I don’t know what more you can give a princess, but I… Well, I really want you to give her a new joke every day. I don’t care if it’s through a dream, or some random person she meets. I just want her to laugh. And not that fake laugh, either. I want her to laugh so hard that it hurts; I want her to laugh so hard that when she stops laughing, she’ll still want more.


    Taní tensed as the shadows overcame him. It was going to happen. He couldn''t stop that, so why? Why did he want to see them one last time?


    Please, Mother… He dragged a hand across the bloody glyph, tarnishing the crude circle. Please…


    A stifling blast of heat swept over the street, engulfing Taní in its suffocating grasp. He choked, tried to breathe, and when that failed, cleared his lungs.


    God, he could taste it. The metal; the intoxicating zest of raw power lapping at his flesh. It reminded him of when he''d mistaken Danza’s blood for wine. Not that it was Taní’s fault. Danza should’ve given him a sip like he’d asked.


    The ensuing prickling surge, the searing that dried his mouth, it was just like then, but more potent.


    Alive!


    Taní croaked, his dry lips cracking as the second surge crashed into him. He wobbled, shielding his face from the blast, but the heat slipped past the vents, caressing him with an onslaught of life-draining zephyrs.


    He wrestled against the unseen specter, doing whatever he could to free himself from the godly stifling. Nothing he did, however, worked. It just worsened with every passing second, squeezing what paltry vigor he clung to until he felt like a dried husk.


    That’s when he realized something: He was going to meet his end, anyway. Why struggle?


    With that thought in mind, Taní fell slack. Prepared to meet his demise.


    Only then did the oppressive flash relinquish its hold.


    “Tan?o Zahara D’Histell!” a familiar voice thundered. One so haughty it looped right back to being eloquent. Even now, he could see them, their skill with a blade rivaling their ability to dish out unwarranted criticism. “You’ve broken curfew, trespassed senior property, and now you think it appropriate to perish before you’ve even received proper punishment? Oh no. You shan’t escape my wrath, D’Histell; you shall atone for every sin like a proper Juneac?o. Chin held high.”


    Taní didn''t stir. It was too late for him. These beasts would finish him, and it would be all for nothing. If she were a bit faster, or even stronger, then maybe—


    “Did you not hear me, D’Histell? Chin held HIGH. Not low; not to the floor. High. You’re better than that.”


    Taní’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t want to, he didn’t even plan on obeying the command, but those words, the lingering hope that he could be something so much more… It was impossible to resist. A primordial want that made almost everything else seem negligible.


    He craned his neck, and though the shimmer in his vision obscured much, he saw her.


    Master Sanrevelle. Eleanor.


    She approached him with swift, measured strides, her resounding footfalls the heralds of inevitability. Her fingers coiled about the hilt of her blade, her free hand clutching the saber''s scabbard. Taní paused. Yes, he’s seen that sword before. D’Arcy’s Spine! The relic of House Dragonfang.


    Master Sanrevelle cracked the blade from its rest, but heat, unlike before, refused to pour from its sickly steel. Beasts lumbered in response, their smooth motions replaced with choppy, unreal flickers of madness.


    A steady clicking emanated from the horde. They shook their heads one moment, then glared at Master Sanrevelle the next.


    D’Arcy’s Spine sailed free from its scabbard with a bone-crunching crack. The blade wasn’t terribly long. Maybe three feet at its greatest extent, but the paintings decorating the Dragonfang wing could do it no justice.


    A venomous green edge with a black flat, and its guard…good blood, that eye. It was alive, trembling with a blacker-than-night glee. What happened to its red hue?


    Once again, she had forgone her previous attire, substituting her one-piece for a black open-front coat that hugged her athletic form, accented with golden trim. Draped over her left shoulder was a gray cape, one which fluttered as she went. It even depicted the grapevine of Corat?o! Just like the Jury of Ila?el’s regalia. Actually…it looked a bit too much like the regalia. Just muted like a storm sky compared to their ocean-blue hues.


    Completing her formidable appearance was a wide-brimmed hat. One adorned with a cluster of orange feathers complementing her flared collar.


    She brought the saber to a stiff salute, the steel in her eyes rivaling the scintillating fang. A challenge. One the pack silently agreed to as they bared their fangs.


    Flicking the relic aside, she flashed forward, the Firmament rippling behind her in jets of smoke. His eyes darted about for a sign. She often sat and watched as the rest of the class whacked each other silly, but to suddenly throw herself at a host of beasts? Well, that was bloody crazy. But...good blood, he''d never seen anyone move that fast before.


    The beasts let out a chorus of whining clicks, shaking off the suffocating spell that gripped them. Not simultaneously. Several of them growled at the ground as they shouldered the oppressive weight. But the others? They exploded forward in a manic frenzy, their hazy forms a blur.


    Icy dread gripped Taní’s heart as he caught the blurring form of his instructor. Even if Eleanor was strong, she was just one person. They’d smash her to bits and gobble her up like an appetizer, and it’d be his fault. He had to do something; he didn’t know what, but he had to do something!


    “MASTE—” Taní choked as the oppressive tide returned in full force. It wasn’t filling the space; it was entering his lungs. Burning his precious supply of oxygen until nothing but searing smoke remained, and even then, it didn’t relent.


    The leading beast broke the formation with a lunge, swiping at the Tyrian’s midsection. She dodged sideways, the scabbard redirecting the trailing claw that threatened to tear into her.


    Another beast followed suit; its jaws ready to devour her. Before its fangs could pierce her, the scabbard sliced forward, tearing through the wind until it glided just like them.


    Unreal; perfect.


    Master Sanrevelle smashed the beast with the blunt instrument, using its momentum to launch herself into a death-defying waltz. She guided the beasts step-by-step, their blacker-than-night claws rending the vacant space she’d once occupied. When they grew bold, she slapped their paws with a flick of her scabbard, prompting them to fall back in line with a clicking hiss.


    Taní watched, engrossed as she threaded through the mass. Her footwork consisted of measured sweeps and blinding pivots. A lunge there, a retreat here, but she was never pressed. Only focused as her boots struck a furious tempo to their phantom song.


    She ducked, twirled, and slid when her partners threatened to overwhelm her. Her mien a serene depiction of absolute calm, for she was now rendered a Juneac?o of pure instinct.


    Light ringed Master Sanrevelle as her fervor escalated, the scabbard’s slot radiating wisps of energy. The beasts renewed their efforts, launching a series of compound attacks that were as savage as they were cunning. Most aimed for dismemberment, but as Master Sanrevelle had made evidently clear, this was not their dance to guide.


    She erupted into a tempest of twilight fury. One, two, three steps, each a fading afterimage of the last. A flick of her wrist here, a swift thrust with her scabbard there, but despite her saber''s make, she never once sullied it with the faux haze of her foes.


    The light about her thinned, and though it was a dwarf among giants, the sword''s slot gleamed with a familiar warmth. One whose blood poured from the sky.


    The sun. It was like looking at the sun.


    A deafening roar ripped from the depths of the scabbard’s slot, splitting the air and robbing the Firmament of its glorious hues before quickly restoring them.


    Master Sanrevelle came to a pivoting stop as she finished her performance, her scabbard drawn to a pseudo salute. A beast threw itself at her vulnerable form, but this time, she didn’t parry.


    Master Sanrevelle sprang into the air, arcing over the brute’s hulking form like the crescent moon over a snow-capped mountain. She ascended past the rooftops, twisted mid-air, then aimed the gleaming scabbard at the horde below.


    Wisps of light sputtered from the slot, coating the dim air with the forgotten radiance of the faux moon.


    And then the world turned white.


    A thunderous, ear-splitting roar exploded from the relic as a gout of blinding radiance burst forth, washing the dark in its all-consuming, flashing fall. The beam crashed upon the beasts, silencing their cries with a godly shrill that echoed from the heavens.


    The ethereal expanse gasped, emitting a deafening shockwave that threatened to send Taní tumbling across the street. It came again and again; the beam swelling until it resembled an inverted goblet teeming with wisps of shimmering energy.


    Taní screamed, his mind racing through a list of prayers Danza had taught him. Sedd, Goem, Toem. The various Paths were nothing when compared to the almighty authority of a blood-stained relic.


    The light sputtered as it thinned, ejecting every ounce of divine radiance until it died. With it went the wind and the roars, restoring the world to its natural gloom.


    With nothing to keep her airborne, Master Sanrevelle twisted and landed with all the grace befitting a swan, but not on the road. That had been reduced to a crater. One that spanned from her end of the street to Taní’s.


    A sweeping scan revealed nothing in his immediate vicinity. Not rubble, not the dim glow of houses, not even those beasts. Only ruined tranquility.


    Taní peered at the colorless haze that occupied the gloom, yet no matter how hard he looked, he could not pierce past the nauseating wall. Just glancing at it made him feel all sorts of wrong. Master Sanrevelle approached Taní, her strides short, even a little rushed. She kept her scowl, but with each motion, it diminished. Then, her mask of supreme calm shattered.


    She burst into motion, dropping her blood-stained relic as if it were nothing more than a mere twig. One moment she was deep in the crater, and then in the next, she knelt before him, heat rippling from her form.


    Taní blinked. Since when had she covered all that ground? Not even Danza was that skilled, and he’d been a Juneac?o for over forty years!


    Taní attempted to rope the remembrance back into his mind, but before he could manage a good grasp on it, she drew him into a suffocating embrace.


    For a moment, they said nothing, the silence of the labyrinth washing over them. He liked the instructor’s company, though not enough to want to hug her. She was a bit too scary for that.


    A slight tremor racked Taní’s body. At first, he thought his leg was to blame, but then it came again. Like the first chill of Frostfall, and then a death-calling fever. That''s when he realized it wasn''t him, but her.


    Realizing it wasn’t the best idea to push away someone so vulnerable, Taní returned her embrace, his nose brushing against her rock-hard shoulder.


    Master Sanrevelle squeezed him in return, her arms swelling with a hidden strength that didn''t quite match their appearance. They felt more like the sturdy trunks of a tree than the slender arms of a maiden. Taní briefly attempted to shake her off, though this only resulted in her crushing him. He only hoped she hadn’t heard him squeak.


    “Taní…” Master Sanrevelle sniffled.


    “Yeah?”


    “See me for remedial lessons starting next week. You’re failing Art.”