Returning to the academy after winter break felt different, as if the world itself had shifted. Time flew quickly, carrying with it the change of the seasons. The cold grasp of winter was fading, replaced by the gentle warmth of early spring. Thick coats were replaced with short-sleeved uniforms and red vests, while the academy grounds, once covered in a blanket of snow, now burst with new life. Bright flowers like crocuses and daffodils sprouted from the damp soil, reaching toward the sunlight. The fresh scent of greenery mixed with the crisp air left behind by melting frost. Birds, silent throughout winter, now chirped from the trees, filling the academy with their songs.


    Even with the change in seasons, the academy remained just as demanding. Classes became more intense, assignments piled up, and the days blended together in a cycle of lectures, training, and stolen moments of rest. Students pushed themselves harder, knowing that the combat trials were fast approaching. The training fields buzzed with magic and combat techniques as warriors and spellcasters alike honed their skills.


    Eric, who used to flirt with Kayla at every opportunity, had toned it down—though he still tried now and then, only to be met with her unimpressed eye rolls. Sorrel and Lydia, once unlikely training partners, had become inseparable. Their practice duels turned into a spectacle, drawing crowds of students who watched as Lydia controlled earth with unwavering precision while Sorrel commanded water with remarkable fluidity. Their combined efforts made them stand out among their peers.


    Artemis and Ren had settled into their routine as well. Most afternoons, they walked back to the dorms with Sakura, talking about class assignments and speculating about the upcoming trials. The academy paths stretched before them, bathed in golden light as the sun dipped lower in the sky. They occasionally passed the training fields, where students practiced their divine abilities, sending ripples of magic into the air. Ren often paused to observe, his sharp gaze studying the movements of the sparring students with quiet intensity.


    One evening, as they walked, a familiar voice broke through the air.


    "Hey, Artemis," Archie greeted, flashing his usual grin. He shot Ren a smirk. "And would you look at that—Mr. Scary actually has friends."


    Ren’s face remained neutral, but Artemis noticed the small movement of his left hand brushing against his shoulder, as if reassuring himself of something hidden beneath his uniform. She knew what lay beneath—his god mark, the physical sign of his divine lineage, concealed from the world yet constantly pulsing with power.


    Archie hung around for a few minutes, cracking jokes before sauntering off. As soon as he was gone, Ren spoke in a lower, more serious tone.


    "I don’t know why, but I have a bad feeling about him."


    Artemis frowned. "Archie? He seems harmless."


    Ren shook his head. "It’s just a feeling. I can’t explain it."


    Artemis wanted to brush it off, but something about Ren’s certainty made her pause. She remembered the attack in the city—an attack no one else should have known about. And yet, Archie had mentioned it as if he had been there. The thought unsettled her.


    Later that night, as the girls gathered in their dorm’s common area, Sakura looked up from her notes, eyes shining with excitement.


    "Are you guys excited for the field trip tomorrow?" she asked.


    Artemis nodded. "Yeah, it’s our first trip off campus."


    Kayla smirked. "I’m looking forward to it—mostly for the research. I never miss a chance to learn something new."


    Lydia stretched and sighed. "It’ll be nice to get off campus for a bit."


    They chatted about the museum exhibits before heading to bed, but Artemis couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling lingering in her chest.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


    The next morning, the academy was buzzing with energy as students climbed onto the buses bound for the Michael C. Carlos Museum. Their history instructor, Ms. Hatt, led the trip, her usual stern demeanor softened by excitement as she explained that Second Years would also be attending. The ride was filled with lively chatter as students discussed which exhibits they wanted to see. Ren sat by the window, arms crossed, staring outside in deep thought. He was unusually quiet, his expression unreadable.


    At the museum, First Years were paired with Second Years. To Artemis’ surprise, she was partnered with Archie. Each pair received worksheets to analyze artifacts and explain their historical significance.


    The museum was breathtaking. Massive marble statues stood in rows, their faces carved with expressions of wisdom and strength. Ancient pottery sat behind glass cases, their delicate patterns whispering stories of forgotten civilizations. Artemis ran her fingers along the protective barrier in front of an inscribed tablet, tracing the curves of the ancient symbols while Archie jotted down notes beside her.


    "This one’s interesting," Archie remarked, tilting his head at the inscription. "Looks like some kind of record-keeping. Maybe laws?"


    Artemis squinted at the carved symbols. "Could be. Some ancient civilizations kept track of legal codes this way. Or it might be a tax record."


    Archie made a face. "Ugh, taxes. Some things never change."


    She chuckled. "Right? Even back then, people had to worry about money."


    They moved to another display—a collection of bronze weapons displayed in a glass case. Archie tapped on the glass. "These look like they’ve seen some serious battles. Imagine wielding one of these in a fight."


    Artemis examined the craftsmanship. "They had to be strong, but also light enough to swing effectively. Look at the balance on that sword—whoever forged this knew exactly what they were doing."


    "Think you could fight with one?" Archie asked with a smirk.


    "Maybe," Artemis mused. "But I’d prefer something with more range."


    Archie grinned. "Smart. Distance is key."


    They continued through the exhibit, discussing the significance of each artifact, losing themselves in speculation about what life must have been like in ancient times. Time slipped away as they worked through their worksheet, analyzing details and debating interpretations.


    Then, the once-lively museum became eerily silent, the hum of voices fading into an unnatural stillness. Her hand slowly reached up and gently rubbed over her god mark as it began to tingle. Something was wrong.


    "Should we head back?" she asked, turning to Archie—only to realize he was gone.


    A deep, guttural growl filled the air.


    Her blood ran cold.


    She spun around, her heart hammering in her chest.


    A hulking creature emerged from the shadows.


    Its face was disturbingly human, with glowing blue eyes locked onto her. But the resemblance ended there. Its massive body was covered in thick, red armor-like skin, its mouth lined with three rows of jagged teeth. A long, segmented tail flicked behind it, ending in a glistening venomous stinger.


    A Mantikhoras.


    It lunged.


    Artemis barely dodged, rolling to the side as razor-sharp claws sliced through the air where she had just stood. She scrambled to her feet, her mind racing. She had no weapon.


    Then, the ring on her finger grew warm, pulsing with a strange energy. A soft glow enveloped her hand.


    A bow materialized in her grasp. It was beautifully crafted, its silver engravings shining under the dim museum lights.


    She didn’t hesitate.


    Summoning an arrow, she pulled back the string and released. The glowing projectile struck the Mantikhoras in the shoulder. It roared in pain, turning its furious gaze on her.


    She fired again. And again. But the beast refused to slow.


    Then—agony. A sharp, burning pain erupted in her side.


    Artemis gasped, stumbling backward. The Mantikhoras’ stinger had pierced her. Heat spread through her veins, the venom working fast.


    Desperate, she notched one last arrow, her vision blurring. With the last of her strength, she released it.


    The arrow flew true—piercing straight through the creature’s skull.


    With a final, earsplitting shriek, the Mantikhoras collapsed.


    Darkness closed in. Distant voices shouted her name, footsteps rushed toward her—but everything felt far away, like echoes underwater.


    The last thing she saw before the world faded was the blurry outline of people running to her side.