Taní slammed his head against the desk, hoping the smart of wood on bone would silence the woman’s agonizing lecture. It didn’t, so he went for a second. Then a third and fourth, until he entertained the prospect of rendering himself unconscious just to escape this lesson-turned-torture-session.


    He waited for her to stop and question him (as any ordinary human being would after fifteen minutes of uninterrupted talking), but when she continued to talk as if nothing was wrong, he took to DiY lobotomization.


    Again, and again, and again, until a flash of bright red colors coaxed a low moan from his throat.


    His physical distress, however, did little to mitigate her stream of perpetual verbiage. Wait. Good blood, he was actually learning something. He hadn''t even KNOWN what those words meant, but he supposed there was only so much mental lashing one can endure until it stuck.


    “D’Histell,” came the steady calm of Eleanor’s eloquent voice, “did you understand that?”


    Against his better judgement, he uttered a faint "yes."


    “Good! Then we mustn''t delay! We’ve over forty chapters to discuss!”


    Taní cocked his head back, then, satisfied, flew forward, hoping the lethal blow would send him sinking into that abyss devoid of cruelty. He''d no such luck, but the delightful rattle of his brain bouncing around left him distracted. Had a doppelg?nger taken her place? Because the Eleanor he knew wasn’t so…animated.


    Maybe the beasts really did gobble me up. A latent, piercing heat blossomed from the center of his forehead. That, or this is a nightmare…


    “Sanrevelle,” he groaned into the table, “can we stop now?”


    “What? We’ve only started an hour ago,” she said.


    “Yeah, and if you keep going, I’ll be here for the rest of the night.”


    “Then it is a sacrifice I’m willing to make!”


    Taní lifted his head high off the table, then hurtled down. Maybe this would be enough to send him to the nurse’s office.


    Before he could strike the sturdy wood, Eleanor’s gloved hand flashed before him, catching his head inches before impact. Her arm remained still as he furiously strained to smash himself against the unforgiving surface. It was like trying to move a wall.


    “Please do refrain from voluntary bludgeoning, D’Histell. I’d rather you not suffer permanent brain damage,” she chided, chin raised with a quiet confidence.


    “You know, I’d rather risk that if it means not being here.”


    Her cool facade withered. “What? But…I thought you enjoyed speaking to me.”


    “I do. Just not when it’s about school. You’re really boring then.”


    “Boring or not, you need to take your studies seriously. Now start noting down your thoughts.”


    Taní reluctantly straightened in his chair, grabbed his reedprinter, then pressed a simple phrase onto his parchment. Eleanor snatched the sheet with a speed born of lightning, her bright eyes running across the paper. Their initial joy darkened.


    “Help me?” She lowered the paper, her eyes narrowed at him. “D’Histell, show some class.”


    “We aren’t even in class!” Taní threw his head back, grappling with a pout that wanted out. “Can I leave now? I learned enough for one day.”


    “We''ve only been here for three hours."


    "Exactly!"


    "Fine. Then tell me what year King Bastino founded Corat?o.”


    “Pfft, that’s easy." He folded his arms, nodding to himself. "Five-O-Two Post-Fall after the mire lurkers attacked his family!”


    Eleanor’s eyes widened in sheer astonishment. “Not only are you off by two-hundred years, but you’ve mistaken actual events for a myth aged some two thousand years old.”


    “What’re you talking about? That’s what…uh…” Taní snapped his fingers, the accumulated trauma submerging their identity in a haze. “What’s the history teacher’s name again?”


    “D’Histell, the kingdom of Corat?o was founded in Seven-O-Six after King Bastino I rebelled against his local lord. Do you know why?”


    “…Spoiled meat?” he said, grinning.


    Pinching the bridge of her nose, she vented an exasperated sigh. “No. Their lord conscripted them into yet another war with Kastel. One which they wanted no part of.”


    “Great! Can I go now?”


    Eleanor turned to her thick stack of tomes and read from her page. A stream of colorful ribbons protruded from the pages. Why did teachers have those, anyway? Were they afraid of losing their place, or were the hues the sole thing that kept them sane as they read through line after line of brain-frying prose?


    Taní debated slamming his head against the table once more, but if there was one thing he’d learned, it was that Eleanor was fast. Unnaturally so. He didn’t even smell her blood boiling when she moved.


    She occasionally glanced at him to see if he was following along, and out of the kindness of his heart, he listened. Not that screaming for help would do anything. That, and his creaking jaw couldn’t withstand another mouthful of gloves. Why she carried a bottomless supply of them in her Blood-Loader, he couldn''t fathom.


    So, instead of subjecting himself to mindless torment, he blocked her out, his thoughts drifting to the Labryinth. ?zar’s cryptic voice echoed from the depths. A relic. The relic. The one thing his House needed to even the playing field. Could its power overshadow that of D’Arcy’s Spine or Valtar’s Vambraces?


    If Dragonfang’s relic encapsulated death, then could Valtar’s be life itself? And where would that leave Fadénix? How would it function? Dragons were harbingers of destruction. Kin directly descended from the Desolator. And serpents? The bones of the earth. But a bird?


    What significance did a feathered fowl hold?


    "Fire… A true, severing fire. She''s calling—calling on oaths long forgotten. Don''t ignore her, she hasn''t the strength. His will...it lingers at her doorstep. And it''s waiting for you." The third year struggled to recount the closing line of his introduction. His ensuing fever guaranteed he remembered nothing, only that a fire waited.


    Eleanor’s stern, saffron-chambray eyes came into view. Despite their blood-chilling effect, she was anything but scary. Lively was more like it. Had she passed the day well?


    The Tyrian’s skin—a pasty pale—bore an uncanny resemblance to the reclusive nobles he’d encountered during his travels. Did teachers not leave Hierrsé’s confines all that much? And her nose. Straight without being bulbous. It certainly fit her angular face well.


    Even her style of sitting exuded a quiet confidence rivaled only by Lavisa. Her posture was straight without appearing stiff. As for her regalia? That did little to conceal her toned physique.


    A snug military jacket of black with gold accents hugged her torso, and adorning her shoulder was an elegant gray cape pinned in place by a golden lunell. Tygenna’s flower, an Iteration of the Agent herself. Its emerald core emulated the moon’s radiance.


    Grazers claimed the emblem a Lunarkin’s badge. Those blessed not with Sedd, but with Her very blood. They were an odd sort. A “perfect Juneac?o” if there was ever one to exist. So why hadn’t Taní encountered their kind on his travels? He''d seen Nimmians, Kastellians, Tyrians, merchants from the east, swarthy Déqoish, but never the towering Lunarkin.


    Eleanor’s legs, clad in black tights, revealed a rippling display of power that demanded respect. As difficult as it was to pry his gaze away from the sight, he realized that staring was impolite and so returned his attention to her regal face.


    Hers would make a noble profile upon a gleaming vine. He wasn''t even sure if he''d spend it.


    “Eleanor,” he spoke.


    The Tyrian’s lips dipped. “Show proper respect, D’Histell.”


    “Right…master Sanrevelle, mind if I ask you something?”


    “Ask away.”


    “Your uniform…is that?”


    A twinkle of amusement shone in Eleanor’s eyes. “Is that to blame for your wandering eyes?”


    “…Yeah. That’s definitely why.”


    “If you must know, this is my typical attire outside class. My wearing the Art uniform is only because I am required to. That, and it’s bloody difficult to slip out of the sweaty thing. The regalia might be snug around the torso, but I prefer it over the damp suit. As it not only displays my service but honors my king.”


    Taní nearly fell out of his chair. “You used to be a royal guard?”


    Eleanor quickly averted her gaze from his. “In another life, yes.”


    “Why’d you leave?”


    “I didn’t.”


    “Oh. Are you on temporary leave or something?”


    The harsh squeaking of leather drew Taní’s attention to Eleanor’s fingers. They pressed into the tome’s wrinkled surface, tearing open the countless imperfections that scored it. “Shall we continue? I’d rather not keep you till midnight!” she said with an edge of faux enthusiasm.


    “I’ve got a funny feeling that’ll happen, anyways. I''m a little...dull," Taní mumbled.


    Once she concluded her Literature unit, Taní groaned and laid his head flat on the table. He was one of TWO people who carried House-altering information, and he was stuck listening to a woman who barely knew how to teach? Fate transpired against him. “C-Can we talk about something else?” he asked, hoping to speed up the lesson.


    Eleanor gently closed the tome. “I suppose a brief respite isn’t uncalled for.”


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    “Cool, then why’d you quit your post as a royal guard?”


    “D’Histell…”


    “What, did you hate the idea of killing people?”


    “We’re supposed to—"


    “Cuz if you did, I don’t blame you. It’s not right, y’know. Even if it is for a king.”


    She sighed. “This is hardly the time for—”


    Propping an elbow on the table, Taní pillowed his cheek on his palm. “Was it the training? Heard qualifications are tough, but you kinda look like you’d fit in. Especially since you’re so tall! Probably even the tallest person I’ve ever seen!” He paused, considering. "You''re a little shy of all those D''Arcy lifesizers. She was a Lunarkin, too, I think."


    “Tan?o.”


    “Did something happen between you and the king? Or was it Lavisa? You must’ve known them if she’s only fifteen. Did you—”


    A splintering crack resounded as her tome crashed into the desk, Eleanor''s hand flying behind it as she split the table in twain. Taní, caught at the crossroad of running for his life and begging for mercy, stared with wide-eyed alarm.


    So, he did the smart thing and stayed seated, his pulse running rampant.


    When nothing happened, he risked a glance at his tutor. She hung her head, her shoulders trembling something fierce. After a moment of silence, she snapped up and flashed him a too tight, plastic smile.


    “Shall we go for a snack?”


    ?


    Taní munched on a chestnut as they traversed the depths of the school’s halls. He didn’t mind a walk, but was catching some fresh air all that wise when they still had four classes to tear through?


    He caught Eleanor glancing at him between bites, her lips hinting at a grin.


    Taní threw another chestnut back, savoring the spicy blend of cinnamon and sugar as they coated his tongue. The Nimmians were certainly brilliant for discovering the snack.


    Realizing she was still looking at him, Taní held out his bag to her. “Want some?”


    Eleanor waved. “I’m fine.”


    “Are you sure?”


    “Most definitely.”


    Taní plucked a handful from his bag and rolled them into her upturned hand. He didn’t care about pressing, so he took another bite from his slightly emptier bag. The sacrifice made the taste all the sweeter.


    Eleanor’s lips dipped with disapproval, though she voiced no objection. Resigning herself, she plucked a piece and chewed on it. An audible crunch betrayed the silence.


    Finishing, Taní tossed his bag into the nearest disposal bin. He waited for the soft flap of the stainless container to strike his ears, but it never came. Only a low, giddy rustle emanated as the bag vanished into the liquid shadows.


    Pausing, he pressed the flap open. It was empty.


    “Kinnakelar.”


    A frigid lance of dread pierced his heart. Tenderness born from absolute adoration dripped from the voice’s summons, yet it was wrong. Fabricated. No. Not fabricated. An imitation of warmth. Like it was only trying to affect an inviting tone.


    “It is you. The one there. It is you. I see it; I see you. Your deficient shells mask not Potential.”


    An inky twinkle shone from the bin’s fissures.


    “Do you see me? Our dream beyond a dream.” A throat-binding pause elapsed, and in a voice devoid of faux affection, it asked, “How can you see me? How can you dream me? Dream…dream, dream, dream. This is not a dream. You’re…real? Awake. Wrong. You’re wrong. Changed. Different. Alive. Why is this shell still alive?”


    “D’Histell,” Eleanor’s voice shattered the spell.


    Heat flushed Taní’s body. He peered through the flap, found nothing, and in a fit, stuck his head inside the bin. Pushing until he squeezed his shoulders past, his hands brushing against gunky litter.


    “D’Histell!” The darkness gave birth to light as Eleanor yanked him out of the bin like a misbehaving puppy. “Show some restraint! You need only request more and I’d be happy to purchase you food.”


    Dazed, Taní blinked at her owlishly. “Did you hear that?”


    “If by hear you mean witness you scrounge through the trash like a starving pup, then yes. I ‘heard’ it.”


    “No! The voice!”


    Eleanor’s eyes darted from him to the disposal bin. When she could not descry the sinister presence, her lips thinned to a worried line. “Are you in need of Ystalix’s counsel, D’Histell? She''s been meaning to discuss your...issues as of late.”


    He stared. “I heard something.”


    “And these audible hallucinations may derive from your traumatic experience in the Labyrinth. Your mind is not sound as you might believe. Do remember that.”


    Like she was one to talk. Voices, darkness, beasts… Had the Desolator tainted him? And why here, of all places? Hierrsé was holy grounds. The literal work of an Agent. Not Tygenna, but still.


    A yawn suddenly escaped him, and his tired lids weighed upon his eyes like anchors. Poor sleep…good blood. What he would do for a single full night''s rest.


    “Eleanor?” Taní called.


    “Yes?”


    “Are nightmares possible here?”


    The Tyrian’s shoulders stiffened. “I’d not concern myself with that, D’Histell." The rings under her eyes somehow darkened, and for the first time since he’d met her, she appeared ready to topple over.


    “Then they’re not real, right?”


    “Let us return to our studies, D’Histell.”


    She stalked down the hall without waiting for his response. Fighting back another yawn, Taní followed her. A blacker-than-night presence lapped at the winding shadows of Hierrsé’s hall, nearing whilst simultaneously shrinking. Almost like his mind was making up the details of his false pursuer.


    “Master Sanrevelle,” he began, already knowing the answer to his question, “what’re nightmares?”


    Without breaking her stride, she spoke, “They are the accursed remnants of the Desolator’s will. The darkness that gnaws at our hearts.”


    “Because he wants to be alive again, right?”


    Eleanor huffed. “Familiar, are we not?”


    “Father always said that you had to think about good things to get rid of it. Y’know, cuz the Desolator hates happiness.” His gaze drifted to the curling shadows. “But why would something that hates happiness eat the container that holds all of it?”


    “Technically speaking, our minds translate the sentiment we define as happiness. The heart simply regulates our oxygen supply.”


    Taní rolled his eyes. “Alright, if it doesn’t hold happiness, then why eat it?”


    Eleanor hummed, her hands clasped behind her back. Students cleared her path, only apologizing when they bumped into her. She never once scolded them.


    “Perhaps he seeks to engorge himself with Sedd. What greater source could there be besides our hearts?” she said.


    Sedd and hearts. Somehow, that didn’t make sense. His father believed them remnants, Danza and a bunch of Grazers claimed them “the natural evil” of Vale?o, but his Art teacher? Yeah, maybe he needed to double-check everything someone claimed.


    The faint green glow of the moon washed over the hall, drawing Taní to the satellite hanging high in the sky, beyond the glass-thin barrier.


    Whispers did not accompany its station. Nor did visions strike him. He just stood there, ears straining for her sonorous voice.


    He glanced at Eleanor, and while she remained tall and strong, her eyes appeared distant. As if she were staring at something past the moon.


    A spark of faint light twinkled from the core of her pupil. A realm that should’ve belonged to a black sphere was now occupied by a void of white. And its guest? An emerald sparkle.


    Taní stared, speechless. She was one of them, wasn’t she? Descended from the blood of those who had partaken of Tygenna’s essence all those millennia ago.


    A Lunarkin.


    “Eleanor?” he called.


    The instructor’s unwavering gaze remained locked on the moon.


    “You there?”


    The void white-green light continued to twinkle, resonating with an unseen signal.


    “Hey!”


    Eleanor flinched, the twinkle in her eyes diminished, but very much present.


    “Did you say something?” she asked.


    “Does…” He looked around. “Does this always happen whenever you stare at it?”


    “Yes… I suppose it’s something of a special connection.”


    After a moment of silence, the weight of a familiar question returned to his mind. “Mind if I ask you a question, Sanrevelle?”


    Eleanor let out a heavy sigh. “Use the proper titles, D’Histell.”


    “Just say yes or no. I’m curious,” Taní pressed.


    “Fine. You may.”


    “I know it’s been a while, but how did you find us in the labyrinth? I don’t think we told anyone where we were going. Not even our Housemates.”


    Eleanor folded her arms. “If you must know, I was doing my daily rounds when I caught wind of a trio’s presence. Mind you, I make no effort to speak to divers, but seeing as I’m one of the few instructors qualified to brave the labyrinth’s depths, I eventually learned that they appeared suspiciously young for a band. One member in particular was the spitting image of our fair Lady.”


    Taní scratched the back of his head. “Couldn’t help but investigate, huh?”


    “And it was a good thing I did. My swiftness not only led to the safety of the princess, but to the survival of two students.”


    “Yeah…sorry about that. Didn’t mean to make you overwork yourself.”


    “Save your breath, D’Histell. Your words are wasted on me. From now to the day I die, I shall never recognize them as worthy of my forgiveness.”


    Taní’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach. “Did I do something bad? I know I almost died, but—”


    Eleanor’s eyes narrowed to slits. It was enough to reduce him to silence.


    “Do not treat your well-being as if it’s a leaf caught on the wind, D’Histell,” Eleanor chastised him. “A Juneac?o must preserve life. The people, your king, mine, and yours. Ignoring the most basic of codes proves you are not only ignorant but a fool, and I’d rather you never die a fool. Not while I remain with breath in my lungs. You shan’t be brought low. Even If I must tear you from death’s sweet embrace for the rest of my life, then I shall continue to do so.” She drew a fist to her side. “You are capable of greater good than I’ll ever be, and I’ll be damned if I ever see you perish before I do.”


    Words completely eluded Taní. They were sincere, but why him? Didn’t she realize he was just another student? That dozens would replace him in time.


    Taní wasn’t the strongest or quickest. He couldn’t even use Sedd, so why was she acting like he was the biggest thing since zesty fí odala?


    “So…where’s the joke?” he asked with a sheepish grin.


    Eleanor scoffed. “Do not test me, D’Histell. I’ve no patience for comedy, and this is hardly the place for it.”


    “Right, right. Sorry. I didn’t mean it.”


    “Cease your pleas for forgiveness. You shan’t find it with me.”


    And with that, she started for a nearby transmitter. Her boot clicks echoing in his ears.


    Great. Just when the afternoon couldn’t get any worse, now he had to deal with an upset Art instructor.


    Taní struggled to keep pace with her long, proud strides as they made their way to the second floor. While Eleanor initially suggested they use her office, the putrid musk of sweat wasn’t conducive to an academic environment. So, they settled on an empty corner of the Fadenician wing once used for a club. Not that there were any left following the lack of funding.


    “Hey,” Taní whispered, “is ?zar really banned from being House champion anywhere?”


    Eleanor slowed her strides, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes. “Yes. Disappointing though it may be, rules are rules.”


    “Do you think he’s guilty?”


    “Now why would I think that? I’ve yet to meet a more capable youth in all my years.”


    “Then you knew he wasn’t cheating!”


    “I suppose not.”


    “Then why didn’t you say anything?”


    The clicks of the Tyrian’s heels drummed in his ears. “Because the student body—not the faculty—governs the position of champion. Even were I to file an appeal, my claim would be met with scrutiny.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “This is tradition, D’Histell. Though ?zar’s fault lies in speculation, we cannot overrule a council-wide agreement.”


    Disquiet gnawed at Taní’s gut. “Then he’s stuck like that.”


    “Indeed.”


    As much as he hated it, this was ?zar’s fate. Unfair, yes. Unfortunate, yes, but he was still alive. That was something to be happy about.


    They returned to their room not long after, and as Eleanor explained a mathematical equation to him, Taní interrupted her with a question.


    “Yes, D’Histell?”


    “Ele—” He paused. Her name was nice, but it didn’t fit. Nor did her surname. There was something else he wanted to refer to her by. Something more important. So, he settled on it after a brief debate. “Master… Yeah, Master. I just wanted to say thanks. You know, for everything.”


    Eleanor’s eyes widened. She leaned back in her chair, the seat groaning until she toppled backwards, slamming the back of her head against the floor. The chair shattered beneath her weight, and though she wasn’t heavy like a noble, her built physique certainly made up for the fat.


    Taní rushed to her side, one hand scrounging through his Blood-Loader. He doubted his blood’s potency, but it never hurt to try, right?


    Dazed, Eleanor reached for his wrist. A sweeping glance at her uniform revealed an untouched set of clothes. Thinking about it, she almost looked… Happy.


    “Master! What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”


    Eleanor flashed him the largest, goofiest grin he had ever seen.


    And then, in a voice drunk with syrup, she asked, “C-Can you say that one more time, please?”