《A Myriad of Ether: Kaleidoscopic》


 Chapter 1

    The hush of anticipation settled over the grand theater, a stillness so absolute it seemed the very air held its breath. The stage, framed by dark velvet curtains embroidered with golden thread, stood bathed in the soft, ethereal glow of the performance crystals. These enchanted stones, embedded in the ceiling like miniature stars, pulsed with an otherworldly light, shifting colors in rhythm with the unseen energy of the theater.


    This was no ordinary playhouse. The Grand Cyprus was a sanctuary of illusion and wonder, where the impossible became tangible, where magic and artistry blurred into one seamless spectacle. And tonight, every seat in the grand amphitheater was filled. Nobles in fine silk, merchants weighed down by gold, travelers who had crossed mountains and rivers just for a glimpse of the famed performance.


    For this theater did not remain in one place. It was a fleeting wonder, appearing and vanishing across the kingdom like a mirage. And tonight, the stage belonged to the act that had enchanted audiences far and wide-the girl of a hundred faces, the star who no one could name. A hush fell over the crowd as the curtains rippled open. She stepped into the light.


    The collective gasp of the audience was nearly audible, their wonder palpable. She moved with a grace unnatural, her golden robes flowing like liquid sunlight. A painted mask covered the upper half of her face, its delicate filigree catching the crystal light. Her dark eyes, the only visible part of her true self, shimmered with emotion-an expression unreadable yet utterly captivating.


    She became the performance.


    The music swelled, played by unseen hands upon enchanted instruments, and she began to dance. Every step, every twirl, every delicate movement of her fingers wove a story of sorrow, love, and longing. Flames burst from the stage beneath her feet, curling in elegant patterns yet never touching her. A gust of wind swirled around her at just the right moment, making her robes billow dramatically. Shadows coiled and stretched, following her movements as though she commanded them.


    The audience was utterly ensnared. She sang then, her voice smooth as silk, carrying across the grand hall in haunting melodies. No one could look away. They leaned forward as one, bewitched, hearts pounding to the rhythm of her spellbinding performance.


    And then-


    She vanished.


    A blink, a moment of darkness as the crystals dimmed, and she was gone. The curtains fell. The audience erupted into applause, cheers echoing off the marble walls, hands clapping so fiercely it was as though they sought to bring her back through sheer will. They needed to see her again, to understand how she had disappeared so effortlessly before their eyes.


    But she would not return. Raze never did.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Behind the stage, hidden from the adoring crowd, the girl moved quickly through the maze of corridors. The mask was the first to come off, revealing a face far different from the ethereal goddess they had seen moments ago. Her golden robe was tossed aside, replaced with a dark, unassuming cloak that swallowed her figure in shadows.


    This was the ritual Razalea followed after every performance-disappear before anyone could glimpse the truth.


    Few knew her real face. Fewer still knew her name.


    A deep voice chuckled from the corner. "You outdid yourself tonight."


    She glanced toward the source, where a man leaned lazily against a pillar, arms crossed. His face was sharp, handsome in a roguish way, with laughter lines around his piercing green eyes. He, Ridian was one of the only two people in this entire world who knew who she was.


    "Same routine," she murmured, running fingers through her now-loosened hair. "They watch. They wonder. They never learn the truth." The man smirked. "And yet, someone always tries."


    She knew what he meant. There were always a few-a noble who wished to unmask her, a merchant who sought to buy her identity, a scholar who believed she was more than just an actress. She had evaded them all. But tonight...She frowned. There had been someone. Even on stage, even lost in the performance, she had felt it-a gaze that burned hotter than the flames at her feet.


    Not admiration. Not desire. Something else.


    A hunter''s gaze.


    Her companion must have caught the shift in her expression. "Something wrong?" She shook her head. "Just a feeling."


    Ridian Greeves didn''t press her, but his easy smirk faded. "We''re leaving in two days. Make sure nothing keeps you here longer than that." She nodded. The theater never lingered in one place for long. It was safer that way. Yet, as she stepped into the cold night air, wrapping her cloak tighter around herself, she could not shake the lingering sensation that, this time, it would not be so easy to leave.


    Ridian had met her two years ago. The first time he saw her perform, he was entranced-not by the act itself, but by the way she wielded presence. She wasn''t just a dancer or an actress; she was something else, something untouchable. A mirage in the desert. A fleeting illusion one could never grasp. And when the performance ended, when she vanished like mist in the morning sun, he had wanted-needed-to know more. It was the theater''s owner, the only other person who knew her truth, who had introduced them. He still remembered that night vividly. "She''s talented, isn''t she?" the old man had said with a knowing glint in his eye.


    "Talented is an understatement," he had replied, still lingering on the memory of her movements, her voice. "She''s... unearthly."


    The old man had laughed. "She''s careful."


    That was his first clue that the girl of a hundred faces was not merely a performer hiding behind masks and illusions-she was an act herself. Their first conversation had been short, curt even. She had regarded him with guarded eyes, as though weighing whether he was worth knowing at all.


    "You ask too many questions," she had said at last, lips curving just slightly at the corners.


    "And you give too few answers," he had countered.


    They had become close, not through grand gestures or dramatic revelations, but through understanding. She was someone who trusted few, who lived in the shadows of the very stage that made her famous. And in a way, he understood that better than most.


    She never asked him to protect her, but he did anyway. He kept people away, distracted those who got too close. He looked out for her, in the way one traveler might look out for another when navigating a treacherous road. Razalea barely showed it, but she was grateful.


    And sometimes, on the rare nights when she let her guard down, when they sat in the empty theater long after the crowd had dispersed, Ridian had often been left wondering if their friendship was just another act on her grand stage.


    But then she would disappear again, just as she always did, slipping through his fingers like a whisper of smoke. She wasn''t meant to be caught. And he wasn''t meant to chase her.


    ***


    Beyond the lavish theater halls, past the bustling streets where the audience still marveled over the performance, in the farthest shadowed corner of the city, a lone figure stood, hidden beneath a hooded cloak.


    They had watched her. They had waited. And now, they were certain.


    She was the one. There was no denying that heinous glow in her eyes at the peak of her performance. But they were not alone. From the rooftops, another set of eyes lingered on the grand theater, watching as the girl disappeared into the night. A second observer, unnoticed by the first, smirked. "Interesting," he murmured to himself before vanishing into the darkness.

 Chapter 2

    The hush of early morning clung to the theater, a stark contrast to the streets beyond its towering doors. The air smelled of dust and cooling lantern oil, the last remnants of the previous night''s revelry. Somewhere in the rafters, a stagehand coughed before shifting into more sleep, but within the grand hall itself, silence ruled.


    Razalea sat in the dressing chamber, staring into the polished metal of her mirror, though her own face was barely recognizable. The kohl-lined eyes, the painted lips, the shimmering dust across her cheeks¡ªremnants of Raze, the star¡ªwere almost gone, wiped away in slow, methodical strokes. Only in the dim light of morning did her own reflection feel like a stranger. A faint knock at the door. She exhaled. "Come in."


    Ridian pushed the door open with an amused smirk, arms crossed over his chest. Even in the poor lighting, his green eyes caught the glow of the dying lanterns. "Thought you''d still be sleeping," he said, glancing at the half-packed travel chest beside her. "Planning an escape?"


    She rolled her eyes and kept scrubbing the last of the stage paint from her face. "Not all of us lounge around past sunrise, Greeves."


    "Some of us don''t have to. We let our stars do the hard work." He leaned against the vanity table, brushing his fingers across a silver hairpin resting there. His reflection met hers in the mirror, sharp-eyed and curious. "You heard the commotion outside?"


    Razalea stiffened. She had, though only faintly. At first, she''d ignored it, dismissing it as another street brawl or some unfortunate merchant being chased down for his debts. But it hadn''t stopped. Instead of answering, she stood, wrapping a dark cloak around her shoulders and securing it at her throat. The disguise was second nature¡ªnothing extravagant, nothing memorable. The kind of face no one would look at twice.


    Ridian sighed, already knowing what that meant. "You''re going, aren''t you?" "Just to see," she replied.


    "And if it''s dangerous?"


    "Then I''ll stay out of it."


    Ridian didn''t look convinced, but he didn''t stop her either. He never did.


    The city beyond the theater was already awake, but the normal flow of merchants and passersby had been disrupted. People stood in clusters, heads tilted toward the eastern road, their voices lowered to murmurs.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Razalea slipped between them, invisible yet all-seeing, listening.


    "Did you hear?" someone whispered near a stall. "The trial starts soon. Some say the first duel will be the bloodiest in years." A young woman scoffed. "Not if Lord Merivale''s son enters. He''s a prodigy¡ªthey say he''s already bonded to a wyvern." "He''s not the one I''d be worried about," an older man muttered.


    "It''s the others. The desperate ones. The ones who need to win." The trials.


    A chill licked up Razalea''s spine, but she forced herself to walk on, feigning disinterest. The academy''s entrance exams weren''t a secret, nor was their reputation. They didn''t just test magic or strength¡ªthey tested survival. People had died in previous years, and yet the kingdom still gathered like hungry wolves to watch.


    Another voice cut through the murmurs, hoarse and urgent. "You think the peace will hold if they let more in?"


    Razalea paused. She turned her head just slightly, enough to see the speaker¡ªa man hunched against a cart, voice lowered to his companion. His coat bore an unfamiliar crest, half-concealed by travel dust. "The peace is barely a decade old," his companion replied, tone wary. "The academy is a weapon. It always has been."They moved away before she could catch the rest, their words sticking to her ribs like a warning. She turned her gaze to the east. In the farthest distance, beyond the clustered rooftops, the academy loomed.


    Its banners, woven with sigils and magic, fluttered in the morning wind, and even from this distance, she could swear she could smell them. Cold. Strange. Unnatural. She clenched her jaw and turned away.


    By the time she returned to the theater, Hyrus von Veerd was waiting. The renowned theater master stood by the stage, arms clasped behind his back, surveying the empty hall. Even in his fifties, he radiated the air of a man who knew everything before it was spoken. "You went out," he said, not looking at her. Razalea hesitated. It wasn''t a question.


    "I heard the noise," she admitted. "Thought I''d see for myself." Hyrus finally turned, his sharp, dark eyes sweeping over her with amusement. "And? What did our star learn?" She didn''t answer immediately. She chose her words carefully. "The kingdom is restless," she finally said. "The trials stir more than just students. The merchants, the travelers¡ªthey all came because of it. They''re spending freely, eager for distraction."


    A slow smile crept onto Hyrus''s lips. "And you thought this the perfect time for a performance?" Razalea met his gaze. "I know it is."


    For a moment, he simply studied her. Then, he laughed¡ªa rich, knowing sound. "That''s why I like you, Raze," he mused, shaking his head. "Not just a performer, but a schemer."She said nothing, only watching as he turned away, already considering the next move in their game of profit and illusion.


    "Good," he said. "Then let''s make sure our audience leaves starving for more."

 Chapter 3

    The streets of Velmoria pulsed with energy, a blend of noble presence and common folk drawn together by the looming Academy trials. The city''s usual rhythm had shifted¡ªeverywhere, there were whispers of who would be entering, who would be leaving, and who might never return. Razalea weaved through the crowd with ease, her cloak drawn close around her. The chatter of merchants and travelers barely registered as she caught fragmented conversations around her.


    "The kingdom''s peace is thin as glass¡ª""Have you heard? They say this year''s duels will be ruthless¡ª""That family has no place in the Academy¡ª"Then, the unmistakable sound of steel being unsheathed.


    A ripple went through the gathered crowd. People turned, shifting toward an open space near the heart of the market district. Razalea glanced up just as a gust of wind sent fruit carts tumbling. Two young men stood in the clearing, their stances rigid, their tempers raw.


    Callen Duvaye and Kieran Rosmont.


    Razalea recognized the names immediately¡ªboth were from noble houses with long-standing grievances. Their families had been rivals in politics, trade, and blood. But even that history wasn''t enough to explain why they had drawn their weapons in broad daylight. Kieran''s blade flickered with magic, veins of molten orange tracing its steel. Callen''s dagger sang with wind, the air around him thrumming with unseen force.


    "Still eager to show off, are you?" Kieran sneered. "Pathetic."


    Callen laughed, a sound full of arrogance and reckless confidence. "Worried you won''t make it past the trials, Rosmont? Or just worried I''ll beat you there?" People whispered, watched, and waited. This was entertainment to them, a glimpse of what the Academy would soon see. Razalea, however, felt a sharp unease. This wasn''t just a test of skill. It was personal.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    The moment Callen lunged, the crowd gasped. The clash of enchanted steel rang through the street, both nobles darting and striking, testing and countering. Their movements were quick, brutal, fueled by a grudge deeper than their years. And then¡ªA figure stepped between them. A sharp clink. A blur of motion. A heartbeat later, both Callen and Kieran were flat on the ground, staring up at the sky. Razalea blinked. What?


    The one who had stopped them hadn''t even drawn a weapon.


    A tall, lanky figure stood over them, tilting a deep blue gourd to his lips. Pale green eyes¡ªlazy, amused.


    He sighed. "You two really can''t wait until the trials to try and die, huh?" Kieran coughed.


    "Who the hell¡ª"


    "You''ll know soon enough," Dyker cut in, flashing a grin that looked both careless and calculated. He nudged Callen''s sword away with the tip of his boot.


    "You should be thanking me. Saved you both from embarrassing yourselves in front of all these people." There was laughter in the crowd, hushed but unmistakable.


    Razalea watched as the green eyed man adjusted his grip on the gourd and turned. For a fleeting moment, his gaze landed directly on her. And then¡ªa wink.


    "Didn''t think I''d see you here, Phantom."Razalea''s breath caught. She disappeared before she could react.


    The streets had quieted, but Razalea couldn''t shake the unease. Dyker. That single glance. Had he recognized her? How? She let herself fade into the less-traveled streets, moving like a whisper of silk, a breath in the wind. She had learned how to vanish a long time ago¡ªand yet, tonight, she felt watched. Then, something caught her eye.


    A figure slipping into a side alley. Unusual. Suspicious. Razalea followed, keeping to the darkness. She reached a half-collapsed tailor''s shop, its entrance shadowed by abandoned crates. The figure had already gone, but something remained.


    A letter. She crouched down, careful, fingers ghosting over the seal. Her pulse quickened as she read the words inside. This wasn''t about noble duels. This was about sabotage. About Academy students being eliminated before they ever set foot inside. And it wasn''t just about passing the trials. Somebody planned to kill. And now, Razalea knew. She needed to leave, and fast. the last thing she needs is getting involved in something that would draw attention. She did not know why but for the past year her gut had been telling her to lay low.

 Chapter 4

    The Grand Cyprus Troupe was alive with movement. Performers polished their routines, stagehands adjusted elaborate set pieces, and musicians fine-tuned their instruments. The warm glow of lanterns bathed the grand hall in hues of amber and gold, casting flickering shadows against the crimson drapes.


    Hyrus von Veerd stood above it all, watching from his usual spot on the balcony.


    He was waiting for her.


    Razalea stepped into the theater, shaking off the lingering thoughts of Dyker''s words.


    "You were seen."


    His voice cut through the hum of activity below.


    She looked up at him. "I was careful."


    "Not careful enough," Hyrus murmured, his fingers tapping against the rail. He didn''t sound angry, merely... intrigued. "Tell me, what did you find?"


    Razalea hesitated.


    Because she had found something.


    After that spectacle, her instincts had kicked in. She had followed the flow of the gossiping crowd, slipping between shadows, until she stumbled upon something she shouldn''t have.


    It wasn''t some petty attempt at cheating. The letter spoke of eliminations.


    Accidents would be arranged. People would die.


    And whoever had written it had the power to make it happen.


    Razalea wasn''t a hero. She wasn''t someone who involved herself in things that weren''t her problem.


    But something about this scheme triggered her, she had the feeling it was a danger to more than just the students at El'' Grazhia.


    She had thought about burning the letter, about simply walking away. But then she had an idea¡ªa way to put it off balance, to interfere without drawing attention to herself.


    Except she had underestimated who was watching her.


    "It wasn''t the crowd I should have been worried about," Razalea admitted finally.


    "No," Hyrus agreed. "It wasn''t."


    He turned toward her seeing the internal struggle in her eyes, he knew she would not involve him no matter what she faced, her ability to handle herself and her interests had always been her pride, but seeing her so worried, his sharp gaze began considering. "What is that you need to do?"


    Razalea exhaled, fingers gripping the edge of her cloak. "I don''t know yet."


    Hyrus studied her for a long moment before stepping away from the railing, descending the narrow stairway to join her below. When he reached her, he lifted a hand¡ªgently tugging the hood from her head. His expression showed fatherly concern as he searched her face.


    "You''re hesitating," he observed. "That''s unlike you."


    She glanced away, swallowing. "I just... don''t know if it''s my place."


    "If you didn''t care, you wouldn''t be struggling with this choice." His voice was steady, grounding. "But you do. So the real question isn''t whether it''s your place, but whether you''re willing to do something about it."The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Razalea clenched her jaw. "And what if it costs me everything?"


    Hyrus gave a quiet chuckle. "You never do anything without a way out, Lea. You''ll figure it out."


    Something in his unwavering confidence made her chest tighten.


    She let out a slow breath. "Yeah... I suppose I will."


    He smiled faintly, stepping past her. "Just don''t take too long to decide. Whatever''s in that letter, you''re not the only one aware of it. And if you wait too long¡ª"


    "¡ªsomeone else will make the choice for me," she finished, nodding in understanding.


    Hyrus said nothing more, only squeezing her shoulder lightly before walking away, leaving her alone in the dim glow of the lanterns. If the worst did indeed happen, he knew she''d be safe he''d taken plenty of measures to ensure that all under his care remained unscathed. Others were not his concern, unless of course his darling pupil requested his interference. Not that she would ever have to, with her wits and skill. Razalea was his one and only apprentice and he wasn''t keen on accepting any others. Not even Ridian could come close to her worth and he was Hyrus''s nephew!


    The night air was thick with the scent of burning tallow and damp stone as Razalea moved through the twisting alleys behind the Applicant Station. Shadows stretched long across the cobbled streets, flickering with the occasional torchlight. The city never truly slept, not with the Academy''s entrance trials on the horizon.


    She had spent the past hour threading together the puzzle¡ªcoded instructions, missing names, a pattern hidden within the streets. Whoever had orchestrated this plot wasn''t just aiming to tip the balance in the trials.


    They were ensuring certain students would never leave them alive. The plan was methodical¡ªintercept key entrants, eliminate those considered ''risks,'' and ensure only their chosen candidates passed.


    But why? Why were they only targeting first years, what was so special about this year''s entrants?


    She traced the marked locations with her eyes:


    The Southern Gate ¨C Entry point for out-of-region competitors. The Bloodless Chamber ¨C A misnomer; duels held there weren''t always bloodless. The Trial Arena ¨C Where hopefuls would prove their worth. Each a choke point. Each a place where an ''accident'' could happen.


    And then she saw it again¡ªher own theater''s name. Not as a target. As a meeting point. Razalea''s pulse had quickened when she first glimpsed this detail. They had been using her stage as their cover. The very act she had crafted to enthrall the kingdom''s elite had been nothing but a distraction for something much darker. Her first instinct was to tell Hyrus. He would know what to do, but that was also one of the key reasons she could not involve him or Ridian.


    She knew they would have her back but what if what she wanted to do wasn''t the best idea, she always over thought like this beneath her mask, and while she knew she could pull it off she always had doubts and when she doubted herself, she became clumsy. This was a chance for her to test out what she learned from Hyrus.


    If her plan to ''help'' did indeed fail, she would not want to burden the old man or worse cause him trouble, she knew he would be able to handle it but that was never the point, being under his care was a privilege to her. His lessons on careful scheming always rang in her head, it was woven in her very nature.


    The name signed at the bottom of the letter was unknown to her. No noble crest, no affiliation¡ªjust a singular, calculated phrase. "The Wheel Will Turn." And that meant this was bigger than a mere conspiracy. It was a game. And she refused to let The Grand Cyprus be used in such an undignified way. Razalea did not intend to play the hero. She wasn''t a soldier, a noble, or a knight. She was an actress, a ghost, a girl who had survived by not being noticed. So she did what she did best. She dabbled. It started with small interferences¡ªletters misplaced, signals disrupted, meeting points exposed. She was careful, deliberate, making it seem like the conspirators had been careless. By the time the night stretched into its final hours, she had successfully dismantled two of their planned attacks. And then¡ªshe heard it. The soft click of a crossbow.


    Razalea didn''t hesitate. She twisted, slipping behind a pillar just as the bolt buried itself into the wooden beam beside her. Not a warning shot. A kill shot.


    Her heartbeat remained steady.


    If they had found her this quickly, it meant...She had been careless. She exhaled softly, preparing to move. But the moment she stepped forward, a hand caught her wrist. Her entire body tensed.


    That was a mistake. A shift of weight, a sharp motion¡ªshe twisted, aiming to break free.


    Instead, she was yanked off balance. And then she saw who had caught her. The gourd tilted lazily in his other hand, green eyes flickering under the moonlight. Dyker.


    "Well," he mused, taking another sip of whatever strange concoction he always carried. "Didn''t expect to find you tangled up in something this messy, Phantom." Razalea''s blood ran cold. Of all the people to get in her way¡ªHe leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a low murmur. "Not that I mind, of course. But you might wanna explain why the hell you''re standing in the middle of a confirmed assassination plot."


    This was bad. He wasn''t a noble. He wasn''t a mere first year applicant. She knew he was one of those few special students who were allowed to do official business.


    He was also someone who could sense her. He was part of the Academy''s internal enforcement.


    The one group meant to stop this kind of sabotage, not that they were any good at it seeing as she  had to thwart the previous attempts on her own. Which meant¡ªRazalea wasn''t about to be ignored. She was about to be arrested.


    And she had just made her biggest mistake yet. Getting noticed.

 Chapter 5

    A floorboard creaked behind her. Before she could react, strong arms seized her, and a cloth was pressed over her mouth. The world blurred as shadows closed in. When Raze woke, the room was dimly lit by a single enchanted lantern. Her hands were bound, though not too tightly. She wasn''t alone.


    Seated across from her was none other than the obnoxious El''Grazhia student¡ªthe one who had stopped the duel, Dyker. He regarded her lazily, swirling a small vial of liquid in his hand yet again.


    "Breaking into places you don''t belong? That''s a bold move." His voice was amused but not unkind. She tested the bindings, arching a brow. "And knocking people out in alleys is completely normal, I assume?"


    "Depends on the person." He leaned forward slightly. "You were snooping around something dangerous. You don''t seem the type to be part of it, which leaves me curious¡ªwhy and how are you involved in this incident?" She said nothing. "Fine, keep your silence." He stood, stretching, knowing she was the cautious type. The way she gazed at them suggested that she thought he was the enemy. "But if you want to keep breathing, you might want to consider your next moves carefully. There are people watching you, Raze." She froze.


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    He had used her stage name. That meant he knew. Dyker acknowledged that the girl was definitely careful but in the kingdom''s capital teeming with high rankers, where everyone is scouting, seeking new talents, scheming and regarding new enemies, there was bound to be someone who noticed her and that someone had sent him to entice her into El''Grazhia for her safety.


    Dyker did not really know the reason behind the old man''s decision but he''d follow through regardless, lest he become the object of his attention. The old man always knew things others didn''t, plotting and scheming to his own amusement.


    , Before Raze could demand answers, the door creaked open, and another student entered¡ªa sharp-eyed girl with an air of authority. She studied Raze before turning to her companion. "Is this her?" He smirked. "Oh, definitely." The girl crossed her arms. "Then she''ll have to accept the offer. Take the trials and you can join us, The Silver Order in shutting down the threat and maybe we''ll overlook the fact that your theatre is getting involved in official business"


    She would not be a perfect addition to their ranks, Rein thought, but it was all they could do to keep her out of the sharks tank and safe abiding by the orders they were given, after all the girl was not trained in anything other than entertainment, the other applicants and student would tear her apart despite her feigned tough exterior.


    Raze was slightly confused, Dyker knowing bits of her was fine, she''d guessed he must''ve been the one watching her in the theatre and pieced it together with her appearance near that dumb noble spectacle, but now?


    What''s this nonsense about an offer of joining them? They weren''t arresting her but recruiting her? Is this some sort of joke? She''d have to escape, she tested her bindings once more and hatched a plan.

 Chapter 6

    Razalea moved swiftly through the darkened streets, the echoes of the earlier encounter still lingering in her mind. She had slipped past their grasp, but her thoughts were tangled. The academy. Their offer. She wanted nothing to do with it, yet somehow, she felt like something was pulling her in. She brushed it off as intrigue, but the scent of anything academy related still disgusted her, she had forgotten why and had tried her best not to blanche at the scent of the academy uniforms when facing Dyker and Rein. One can''t exactly go around offending their captors now can they.


    A sudden commotion ahead made her slow her pace. The muffled sounds of a scuffle, followed by a sharp yelp. She narrowed her eyes, slipping into the shadows as she approached the source. A small, frail figure was pressed against the cold stone wall of an alleyway. The boy couldn''t have been older than twelve, his too-big robes hanging awkwardly off his thin frame. A group of guards loomed over him, their stances rigid, their voices dripping with more hostility than authority.


    "You thought you could sneak in?" one of them sneered. "The academy doesn''t take children."


    "I-I''m old enough," the boy stammered, but his trembling hands betrayed him. "I swear it!" Razalea caught the way his fists clenched and the way his jaw set despite his fear.


    "Lying is a punishable offense," another guard said, cracking his knuckles. "And attempting to falsify enrollment? That calls for a harsher lesson." The boy''s eyes widened in panic as one of the guards grabbed his collar and yanked him upward. She watched as they used one of those torture crystals reserved for interrogations  on the boy and heard his quiet gasp of pain unable to scream due to the indescribable pain. She herself had never felt it but Hyrus had made her aware of it''s existence in one of their many musings. Something hot curled in Razalea''s chest. She knew the El''Grazhia academy''s rules were strict, but this? This was unnecessary.


    Before she could talk herself out of it, she moved.


    She was a blur¡ªquick, decisive. The first guard barely had time to react before she hooked her foot behind his leg and sent him crashing down. A second later, she twisted, knocking the other away from the boy with a sharp jab to his ribs. The boy dropped to the ground with a thump, scrambling backward. The remaining guards spun toward her, recognition flashing in their eyes. "You!" Razalea exhaled sharply. Great. They clearly was on that mission with Dyker, the one that ended with her caught instead of the real perpetrators. A sharp voice cut through the tension. "Stand down."


    Dyker. Oh bloody hell. Why did she have to draw attention now, and beside him, Rein, the girl with the sharp eyes. More figures appeared from the shadows, each one standing with the bearing of academy elites. This many people and they still could not catch the real masterminds?


    At this very moment they had drawn a lot of attention to themselves, she didn''t realize how close the academy gates were to the alley. Plenty of onlookers had seen her by now ,despite the fade of daylight but her face was still somewhat hidden due to her hood.


    Razalea''s instincts told her to bolt, but she stood her ground, her pulse hammering. They couldn''t force her to enlist in some academy, she had things to do and the last thing she needed was to die at some over glorified survival test. What was the point even if she did pass, surely they didn''t think she would lay down her life to serve those disgusting royals and nobles. Dyker glanced at the groaning guards before leveling his gaze at her. "Interfering with academy discipline moments after running away? Not a wise move."The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Razalea crossed her arms. "And beating a kid half to death is?"


    "He broke the rules."


    "He''s just a kid."


    Dyker studied her, hiding his approval, he didn''t exactly take too kindly to those who abused their power and he was glad she knocked those guards over. Hurting kids was not his bottle of beer either, he then turned his attention to the boy, who shrank under his gaze. "What''s your name?"


    The boy hesitated before whispering, "Aiden."


    "Why did you try to sneak in, Aiden?" The boy swallowed hard. "To get in the academy... You get a signing bonus, right? Provisions for your family?" Razalea paused. The academy rewarded its recruits? That was new information.


    "My little sisters," Aiden continued. "They''re starving. I thought... if I could just make it in, I could help them."


    Something about the quiet desperation in his voice made Razalea''s stomach twist. Surely Dyker wouldn''t be too harsh on him. Dyker sighed. "The rules are clear. Sixteen and older."


    Aiden''s face fell. Razalea clenched her fists but was relieved that he didn''t sound too cruel. "So what now? You shouldn''t punish him for attempting to apply. Don''t you fools want applicants to be eager to die for your cause?"


    "We were going to give him a proper punishment," one of the guards muttered, still rubbing his ribs.


    She shot him a glare before looking back at Dyker. "I stopped them, so punish me instead."


    A flicker of amusement crossed Dyker''s face, he would have seen to it that the boy was handled correctly regardless, the amusement was gone in an instant. "You? Oh, you''ll be punished, but we have a better idea."


    Rein''s lips curled into something resembling a smirk knowing where Dyker was going with this. "He wants to enter so badly? Let him." Razalea''s brows furrowed. "What?"


    "The trials are beginning soon. If he''s so determined, let him participate, we can''t exactly let the boy''s family starve now can we" Dyker said. "Survive, and he''s earned his place. Die, and we''ll still provide the provisions. It''s a win-win"


    Razalea''s stomach dropped. The trials.


    Aiden would never make it through. He clearly wasn''t prepared. Even if he did prepare, he was way to0 small in stature. He wasn''t ready. He was not going to survive. "Of course," Rein added, her gaze sharp, "you''re responsible for him now."


    Razalea stiffened. "Excuse me?"


    "Since you''ve personally interfered, we''ll let him in, which means you''re the reason he''ll take the trials," Dyker said smoothly. "You fought so hard for his cause, it''s the least we could do. I''d recommend seeing him through though unless of course you wouldn''t mind him dying, in that case, carry on"


    "I''m sure one of the other first years would be more than ecstatic to watch over him" Rein smirked, glancing behind them where a line of particularly brutal looking applicants stood waiting for their turn to sign up. They''d slaughter the boy. Of course there were the occasional weak looking ones too, but those were none the better as they are the most likely types to resort to underhanded tactics. Ugh, why did she even care, she gave them a cool look while she calculated.


    She''d noticed the hostility between the new applicants. She couldn''t blame them. A healthy portion of them might die at the hands of the others. Her pulse pounded in her ears. She thought about dissuading the boy but she could see the desperation in his eyes, and she knew he''d never listen.


    She could leave. She could turn around and disappear into the night, let the boy fend for himself. She certainly did not need more attention. It would ruin everything. She didn''t even know him.


    But as she glanced at Aiden¡ªat the brave but fearful look in his too-young eyes¡ªshe knew she wouldn''t go. If Hyrus had thought to leave her back then to save himself, she wouldn''t even be here and he wouldn''t hav-


    Dyker smirked. "So what''s it going to be, Raze?" She hated that he knew her name and used it so publicly. Her performances were meant to be secret, separate from her.


    She hated confusing her acts. She hated that she was trapped. And most of all, she hated that she already knew her answer.

 Chapter 7

    Razalea let out a slow breath, her mind racing. She hated to admit it but something about the El'' Grazhia''s trials excited her. Either she was loosing it or gaining back a bit of what she lost but the more appalled she felt, the more excited she got. There was definitely something between her past and this place. She had never mentioned it to Hyrus but when they moved here she had a thrilling sensation, she''s sure he would have noticed though seeing how she''d unusually gotten curious and involved in matters that weren''t her own. He always noticed, ever the dutiful guardian.


    The boy stood close to her, his too-big robes swaying in the cold night air, his hopeful gaze locked on hers. The smart thing to do would be to run. To leave him behind. But she already made her decision earlier. She was familiar with what it was like to have no one to rely on,  even if her situation had only lasted for a few days, from what she could remember anyway.


    "Fine," she said, her voice sharp as steel. "I''ll see him through the trials."


    Dyker''s smirk deepened, but there was something thoughtful behind it.


    "Good. Then you''re both officially in." Razalea''s teeth clenched. This wasn''t part of the plan. She had spent a year keeping herself out of sight, and now she was walking straight into the very thing she had tried to avoid. Hyrus had warned her about getting too involved in the beginning the troupe stuck to themselves, she however occasionally meddled once or twice. Well, it''s not like she planned to stick around after those wretched survival games anyway.


    Rein folded her arms, her sharp gaze flicking between them.


    "You should get some rest. The trials begin at dawn." Aiden stiffened beside her, excitement flickering in his eyes before anxiety took over. Razalea had another urge to tell him to run¡ªto find another way¡ªbut that would be a lie. There was no other way for him, he was 12, he could never get a job and going to The Madame''s was much worse practically torture, she knew that better than anyone. The academy was his only chance, no matter how dangerous it was.


    Dyker gestured toward one of the guards, who stepped forward reluctantly. "See to it that they''re housed for the night."


    "I don''t need housing," Razalea bit out. "I have a place¡ª"


    "You''re part of the trials now," Rein interrupted smoothly. "That means you follow the rules. "Her muscles coiled in frustration, but arguing wouldn''t change anything. She glanced at Aiden, who was barely suppressing a shiver, and sighed. "Fine."


    The walk to the academy grounds was silent save for the occasional flyer or two above, tension sat thick in the air. Aiden trailed behind her, glancing at the looming stone walls of the academy with a mix of awe and fear.


    "Hey," she said quietly, slowing her pace until he caught up. "Why''d you really do it?"


    He looked up at her, confused. "I told you. My sisters¡ª" Razalea studied him. "You''re small, you''re weak, and you''re not stupid. You know you won''t last through the trials. So why?"This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Aiden hesitated, his fingers curling into the fabric of his robes. "Because when I died, I''d at the least know they''d be provided for."


    She exhaled, looking away, that would only have been possible if he survived the application process to begin with and he almost didn''t.


    The kid was braver than he looked. Or, again, just stupid but desperation tends to do that to a person. Another example of why Razalea hated nobles and royalty. They thrived off of the poor and hoard wealth that aren''t even there''s. They were all thieves.


    When they reached the academy barracks, the guard shoved open a heavy wooden door. Inside, rows of bunks lined the stone walls, each one covered with rough blankets. The air smelled of sweat, metal, and something faintly herbal. Other recruits¡ªsome looking confident, others uneasy¡ªwere scattered throughout the room.


    "This is where you''ll stay," the guard grunted.


    "Get some sleep. You''ll need it." Aiden stepped in hesitantly, his wide eyes scanning the room. Razalea followed, her body thrumming with unease. She had spent so long avoiding attention, and now she was locked in a place where she could not avoid it. Guess it was time to forge a new mask, a color so savage and dangerous, ensuring people never dared to get close. She turned to Aiden.


    "Stick close to me. No wandering off." He nodded quickly, noticing the shift in her presence. He wasn''t very strong but the one thing he was skilled in was detecting a person''s presence. that was how he had managed to keep himself and his sisters safe this long. He worried about how they would manage but they were smart like him, they''d be fine until he sorted something out. He had to have faith. "Got it."


    She dropped onto one of the lower bunks, running a hand through her hair. Everything had changed too fast. She had only wanted to stop an injustice, and now she was bound to the academy trials, responsible for a boy who didn''t belong here.


    Razalea closed her eyes, exhaling sharply. Whatever happened, she had to be ready. They can never find out. Failure was not option.


    Because if she failed, it wouldn''t just be her life on the line¡ªit would be Aiden''s, too.


    Far from the academy, in the dimly lit backroom of a tavern, a man with a finely pressed coat and keen eyes sat behind a heavy wooden desk. Mr. von Veerd had been drinking a rare vintage, savoring the quiet, when a messenger burst into the room.


    "There was an incident near the academy," the man reported. "A commotion in the streets. A girl intervened." Von Veerd''s fingers tightened around his glass. There was only one girl anyone would bother him for. "A girl?"


    "She matched her description. The lead actress." His jaw clenched. Razalea. What had she done? His worry was short-lived as another servant entered, placing a sealed letter on his desk. It bore no name, only an emblem he recognized instantly. Breaking the wax, his sharp gaze swept across the parchment''s words:


    I won''t be gone long.


    Don''t cause trouble in my absence.


    Everything is under control.


    Don''t give Ridian my spot.


    Lu valson del en se''anvie''ro del valson an vu.


    It wasn''t a farewell, nor an explanation. Just a reassurance wrapped in ambiguity¡ªjust like her. Von Veerd huffed a quiet laugh, setting the letter down. His expression softened ever so slightly at the Yuazhan quote he''d taught her, it symbolized that your family will always look out for you, and you will them whilst also trusting each other to handle themselves. "She always has to be dramatic, doesn''t she?" The messenger hesitated. "Should we send someone to retrieve her?" He shook his head. "No. She''ll return when she''s ready."


    And if she didn''t, he would make sure that man and his academy regretted ever keeping her.

 Chapter 8

    "Every personality is associated with a color in Raze''s mind, and so every time she acts out a personality she becomes the mask, her face hardens, softens and becomes gentle or tough depending on the role she needed to play, the girl of a hundred faces. And yet at the end of the day she was barely sixteen."


    Razalea woke to the echoing sound of a bell tolling through the stone halls of the academy barracks. Dawn had barely broken, and already, movement filled the room. New recruits scrambled out of their bunks, donning their academy-issued tunics and securing weapons or satchels. The air buzzed with nerves and excitement. Aiden stirred beside her, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Is it time?"


    "Looks like it," she muttered. She would coo at his adorableness if it weren''t a stalk reminder of how in over their heads they were.


    She could fend for herself well enough, but how in the abyss was she supposed to keep him out of harm''s way? Her makeshift family had taught her more than just performance¡ªself-defense, and, when necessary, the art of striking first. A few weeks after Hyrus had taken her in, offering a place among the troupe, he''d seen through the careful control in her movements, the sharp instincts that set her apart. Oh, how adept  she was.


    He hadn''t pried. After all, secrets were the lifeblood of the playhouse, and every performer carried talents meant to be hidden. Instead, he had ensured she honed her skills, sending her from one troupe member to another, month after month. Swordplay from one, sleight of hand from another. Acrobatics, lockpicking, even the delicate art of mimicry¡ªeach skill layering over the next until nothing about her seemed singular everything unexpected. Nothing about her seemed natural. Every talent looked learned, picked up through time and exposure, and yet woven into her very being, burying whatever truth lay at her core. Ridian trained her when Hyrus couldn''t, refining what she already knew and sharpening what she didn''t. Every lesson, every skill, another layer of misdirection¡ªanother mask to wear..


    She was a masterpiece, and yet it leaves one wondering where does the act begin and when does it end?


    She stood, stretching out the stiffness in her limbs. The academy was far grander up close than she had ever cared to notice. Towering spires of stone, banners rippling against the cold morning air, and the sheer weight of centuries of history pressing down on the students within its walls. It wasn''t just a school; it was a proving ground. A sharp rap at the barracks door silenced the murmuring crowd. The door swung open, revealing a figure clad in dark robes, a golden insignia embroidered across their chest. Razalea gagged involuntarily. She was lucky only Aiden noticed. At this rate, she might just end up blowing  everything if she wasn''t more careful." All recruits, outside. Now. "Razalea and Aiden followed the flow of soon-to-be students pouring out into the courtyard.


    There, hundreds of recruits gathered in neat rows, murmuring amongst themselves as the academy''s upper-ranked members stood before them. A woman with stern eyes and silver-streaked hair took a step forward. "I am Grand Inquisitor Rhenna. You stand on the threshold of greatness¡ªor ruin. The trials are your first step into this academy. If you fail, you will no longer be with us." Razalea noticed how she was careful to avoid saying we''d most likely be dead although it was practically the same thing, those who failed but didn''t die were few and they usually left with crushed dreams and a missing limb, if not worseStolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    " If you break, you will be discarded. If you prove your worth, you will earn your place."


    Ah. There it was. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, a slow-building wave of speculation and unease. Razalea remained still, her gaze sweeping past Rhenna to the figures gathered behind her. She recognized Rein and Dyker among them, their expressions unreadable. But there were others¡ªfigures whose presence carried more weight than the academy instructors, their very stance dripping with authority. Some, she noted, held themselves with an arrogance that surpassed even the Inquisitor''s.


    Arrogant, haughty, self-righteous pricks.


    A silver-haired young man with a face that was the very personification of a freshly dug grave looked amused. He glanced her way, a single pierced brow lifting in silent appraisal. She didn''t look away, didn''t flinch. She merely blinked, cool and measured, before continuing her assessment of those around her.


    Rhenna gestured toward them. "This academy is divided into divisions, each honing a different skill set. Some of you will become Mages, wielders of spells, fortification barriers, and alchemical mastery. Some will become Riders, bonded to beasts of war¡ªgriffins, serpents, and dragons. Others will train as Assassins, masters of stealth, or Tacticians, the mind behind the battlefield. Each division is a path, but your journey through the trials will determine where you belong. "Aiden shifted beside her, his hands clenched into fists. He had no idea where he belonged. Neither did she but she would do everything to make sure they were together, well until she knew he was safe. Surely once they were fully fledged students, he''d be fine.


    Rhenna continued, "But above these divisions exist the Three Circles¡ªour academy''s elite. These students are not defined by divisions but by their influence, skill, and status. "She turned toward the first group. "The Silver Order. They are strategists and politicians, trained not only in battle but in manipulation, negotiations, and control. They hold the academy''s favor and ensure its public image remains untarnished." A group of well-dressed students stood in formation, their gazes sharp, assessing. Razalea spotted Rein among them, unsurprised. Dyker stood at the very top and center of his Circle, signifying his rank, she wasn''t too surprised there either. "The Veilkeepers." Rhenna''s voice was quieter now, almost reverent. "They are the academy''s intelligence network. Masters of secrets, whispers, and hidden truths. If there is knowledge to be gained, they will have it first."


    A group clad in dark navy robes remained motionless, their presence more like shadows than people. Razalea felt the weight of their eyes, unseen yet suffocating.


    Finally, Rhenna''s gaze hardened. "And then there are the Black Talons. The most feared and infamous among the student body. They act without care for perception or favor. If they take action, it is because they deem it necessary, not because they need permission. Their methods are unconventional, their reputation often ruthless."


    Rhenna blew out a breath and not so subtly glared at the group who either ignored her or flashed her shameless grins.


    The final group stood apart from the others. Their presence was undeniable¡ªeach figure radiating a confidence that teetered on arrogance. The tallest among them, a young man with inky black hair and striking golden eyes, tilted his head as though amused by the attention. He stood at the same position as Dyker in his Circle , she noticed the silver hair was in the last group too. Razalea didn''t like the system already.


    She didn''t like any of them.


    "You will earn your place in the academy," Rhenna concluded, voice ringing through the courtyard. "Your first trial begins in 10 minutes after you are briefed by Dyker, highest ranker of the Silver Order. Survive, and you may yet call this place home. Fail, and you will never set foot within these walls again."


    Or die. Why do they always forget to mention they might die, Razalea growled in her head. The ground beneath them rumbled. Aiden tensed beside her. Razalea narrowed her eyes.


    What now?

 Chapter 9

    A stillness fell over the recruits as Dyker stepped forward, his piercing pale green eyes sweeping across the gathered hopefuls. The torchlight in the vast chamber flickered against the black stone walls, casting elongated shadows that seemed to breathe. The air was thick with unease, laced with something almost electric¡ªa sense of impending judgment.


    "The first trial is simple," Dyker announced, his voice an icy blade cutting through the silence. "Survive."


    Murmurs rippled through the recruits.


    "Beneath this academy lies the Nightveiled Labyrinth¡ªan ever-shifting, living structure, older than the kingdom itself. You should all be aware of the requirements needed within this institute; you should have been sufficiently prepared to survive in at least the First Level by your respective preparatory schools before you were sent here. In the First and Second Levels, you will find illusions, death traps, and creatures that exist to cull the weak."


    Preparatory Schools, that''s where Aiden should''ve been enrolled and she doubted he had any of the prior knowledge the other recruits had considering he skipped the whole thing altogether.


    Dyker''s gaze sharpened. "You will stick to those levels and shall not go beyond them. Those of you who attempt to do so will undoubtedly die. Those of you who try to trick others into going below will immediately be eliminated¡ªor worse, depending on the severity. Your objective is to reach the exit before the Labyrinth consumes you, or survive until the time is up. Those of you who wish to forfeit may simply utter the word ¡®Meridonis.¡¯" He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. He worded it like it was a common practice for participants to entice each other into dying, it probably was. "You have three hours."


    Razalea sifted through the bits of information she caught from the whispers around her. The Labyrinth was essentially made of layers. No one around her seemed sure about how many there were, but they knew that each level became more dangerous the lower you went. The First Level was treacherous, filled with traps and creatures bred within the academy¡¯s depths. The Second Level was worse, a place of psychological torment where illusions could trick even the strongest minds into madness. Beyond that¡­ there were rumors of horrors no first year lived to describe. Well none they had met anyway, rumors always tend to be slightly- if not overly, exaggerated. With someone to look out for, however, she wasn''t too eager to find out.


    She exhaled slowly, already calculating her odds. Her feet itched to move, but she knew better than to let anxiety dictate her choices. Aiden, however, fidgeted beside her, shifting from one foot to the other. His brows were knitted in deep concentration, but she could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clenched at his sides.


    "It¡¯s just a test," he muttered under his breath, barely audible over the rustling crowd. "Just another damn test."


    "It¡¯s never just a test," she replied evenly. "Not here."


    The ground trembled once again as the great iron doors to the Labyrinth groaned open, the sound deep and guttural like some ancient beast awakening from its slumber. A void of darkness stretched beyond them, yawning wide, swallowing the dim light from the chamber. The cold air that leaked out carried an unsettling scent¡ªnot of rot or decay, but something older, something that smelled of forgotten places and things that had never known the sun.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Aiden took a shaky breath. "This place is¡­ wrong."


    "That¡¯s the point." someone muttered.


    A low horn sounded, and the recruits surged forward. Some hesitated at the threshold, but the mass of bodies behind them forced them in. Razalea moved swiftly, grabbing Aiden by the wrist and pulling him alongside her, weaving through the crowd before they could get separated. The moment they stepped past the threshold, the doors slammed shut behind them.


    Darkness enveloped them. Then, torches flared to life along the damp stone walls, their light barely reaching the ceiling high above. The passageway stretched ahead, splitting into multiple corridors like a spider¡¯s web, each one promising danger in its own right.


    The group that had entered together immediately began to splinter. Some darted off alone, desperate to prove their strength. Others clung to whatever semblance of a team they had formed beforehand. Razalea made a quick mental note of the directions others took, filing them away for later. If the Labyrinth shifted, that knowledge might not matter¡ªbut if it didn¡¯t, she¡¯d have an advantage.


    Aiden pulled his dagger free. "So¡­ do we have a plan?"


    "Stick to the First Level," she said without hesitation. "Get a feel for the terrain before we make any rash decisions."


    His lips pressed into a thin line. "And if we run into something?"


    "We handle it."


    They moved cautiously, keeping their backs to the walls whenever possible. The air was heavier here, pressing against them like unseen hands. The flickering torchlight cast deceptive shadows, making it difficult to tell what was solid and what wasn¡¯t.


    It didn¡¯t take long for the first obstacle to reveal itself.


    A growl echoed from one of the corridors. Then another. Clawed feet scraped against the stone. Emerging from the gloom were three creatures¡ªhound-like but grotesque, their bodies elongated and twisted as though they had been stretched beyond their natural limits. Their eyes glowed an unnatural violet-red color, and saliva dripped from their jagged teeth.


    Aiden tensed beside her. "Shit."


    Razalea¡¯s grip on her dagger tightened. "Illusions?"


    "Doubt it."


    The creatures prowled forward, their movements precise, predatory. They were studying them.


    "Do we run?" Aiden whispered.


    She exhaled through her nose, gaze locked on the beasts. "If we do, they¡¯ll chase. If we fight¡­"


    "We kill them," he finished. He hesitated, jaw clenched. "But do we have to? They¡¯re just¡­ following their instincts, right? They were put here to test us."


    Razalea didn¡¯t take her eyes off the creatures. "They won¡¯t hesitate to kill us. That¡¯s the difference."


    Aiden shifted uncomfortably. "That doesn¡¯t mean they deserve to die."


    "Deserve has nothing to do with it. It¡¯s about survival."


    The hounds tensed, their muscles coiling. The decision was no longer theirs to debate.


    The first one lunged.


    Razalea reacted instantly, sidestepping as she brought her dagger up in a swift arc. The blade met flesh, carving across the creature¡¯s shoulder. A shriek tore from its throat, but it didn¡¯t falter. The second one came in low, snapping at Aiden¡¯s legs. He barely managed to dodge, his dagger slicing through empty air.


    "Focus, Aiden!" she snapped, shoving him back just as a third hound sprang from the shadows.


    Instinct took over. She moved fluidly, striking and dodging, using the narrow corridor walls to her advantage. The creatures were fast, but she was faster. Aiden, however, was struggling. His hesitation cost him, and the moment he faltered, one of the hounds lunged¡ª


    ¡ªstraight for his throat.


    Time seemed to slow. She didn¡¯t think. She just moved.


    Her blade found the creature¡¯s chest, plunging deep. It let out a strangled cry, its body jerking before going limp. Aiden gasped, staggering back as the other hounds snarled in fury.


    He looked at her, wide-eyed. "You¡ª"


    "Later," she bit out. "Move!"


    The remaining creatures snarled, but the scent of fresh blood had them hesitating. Razalea didn¡¯t waste the opening. She grabbed Aiden¡¯s wrist and ran, dragging him deeper into the Labyrinth before the beasts could decide if vengeance was worth the risk.


    The echoes of their retreating footsteps drowned out Aiden¡¯s shaken breath.


    This was only the beginning.