《Notale》 1: ALWAYS HAVE BEEN Footsteps echoed through the lit corridor. The high stone arches, gold and red-shot walls seemed almost endless as a solitary figure sauntered towards one end. The guards maintained a blank expression as Lirous walked past them. Probably for the best. Reaching the end of the corridor, he stopped. ¡°...Master? You asked for me?¡± His master¡¯s head turned as Lirous paused at the edge of the gathering, the hem of his white robe brushing the ground with each step. He took a deep breath, heart racing as he approached the figure on the golden throne, elevated on the plateau. He bowed his head. No one could recall a single moment when Divinus showed kindness to another. Not even to his closest advisors. As the Master motioned for him to stand straight, despite his high status, he couldn¡¯t help but feel... Feeble. Sure, he had commanded and won his fair share of battles. But the vast expanse of the room turned him into a dwarf, the throne towering above him, even touching the ceiling. Somehow, it didn¡¯t make the one sitting on it small - Illusion magic? Whatever it was, the effect was working. ¡°Yes. I did... Lirous.¡± Divinus sat up. His expression was hidden by the ornate helmet he always wore. What was it of? Frustration? Annoyance? ¡°You remember Onyx, correct? Veles? That young brat, Tempest?¡± ¡°Yes, Master,¡± Lirous replied. What did this have to do with them? ¡°Well, Ajax here has kindly alerted us they¡¯re holding a meeting as we speak. It took a bit of... Encouragement, but we worked it out in the end. Didn¡¯t we, Ajax?¡± Lirous noticed a man sitting in a separate chair. This was hardly as stunning as the throne the Master of Light sat on, but it looked nice nonetheless. Strangely enough, the chair was facing away from the rest of the hall. Lirous could only assume that the man on top was staring blankly at the wall. Isn¡¯t Ajax one of his Guardians? Whatever his title was, he had no response. Sighing, Divinus turned back to Lirous. ¡°Anyway, I believe this war between us and them has gone on long enough. Would you be as kind as to prepare the army for a raid? And call the other council members. All of them.¡± As politely as Divinus had said it, Lirous knew that the Master held him in low regard. ¡°Yes, Master.¡± Lirous turned away, making his way back from where he came. Satisfied, Divinus turned back to Ajax. ¡°This is what you wanted. An end to this blasted war. No more bloodshed after tonight.¡± Ajax didn¡¯t move from his seat. Nor did he reply. Shaking his head, Divinus walked to his former ally. ¡°It¡¯s what you deserve, anyway.¡± Tearing his spear from the mutilated body he had thrown on the chair beside him, he summoned some magic to clean up the guts and blood strewn across the floor, before blasting the tortured corpse in a beam of holy light. The mess was immediately destroyed, leaving only a single hand missed by the spell. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Ignoring it, Divinus left the hall, his heavy, golden armour clanking against the stained red marble floors. He should probably call someone in to get rid of the other bodies he stored behind him. "No, no, no, no!" A figure staggered through yet another stone archway. Behind him, Veles could still hear the shouts and screams of his allies¡ªthe voices of those cries grew fewer by the second. His guards had bought him little time; Vero''s strongest heroes'' spells, swords, and spears had cut through them like wheat before a scythe. God dammit! I should have followed him when I had the chance! He desperately bolted a steel blast door shut. He instantly recoiled as a series of jagged dents appeared on it half a second later. Veles paused to examine the glowing red marks. At the foot of the door, bolts of unwavering electricity arced, dancing across the stone floor. "Tempest..." he muttered, shaking his head before continuing down the tunnel. There was no point. Bit by bit, the archways were growing larger. The light was growing brighter. His exit grew closer. An abrupt tremor, followed by a terrible screeching sound cut off his smile. By now, the shouting was all but gone. He was the last one. The teleportation circle was ahead of him. Hastily, he sent a bolt of green energy flying towards it, before redirecting it straight down onto the massive sigil. On any other day, he would have scolded a fresh recruit for activating it so crudely, but he didn''t have much of a choice with the Heroes on his back. Leaping on top, he funnelled his magic power directly into it. The circle grew a brighter, brighter, brighter shade of green until... "No." A sudden blast of yellow energy rocked the courtyard. Veles, despite his best armour spells, slammed into the back wall hard. His face of joy twisted into one of pain as his arm was wrenched into a position the healers could only call ''not ideal''. Veles forced himself into a standing position. Looking through the dust, the last of the green magic was slowly disappearing. In its place was a glowing streak of yellow light. A figure in shining armour. The armoured hero walked toward him. Step. By step. By step. Veles looked at his arm. In another time, he may have fended the Master of Light off... But now? No. Before the attack, he was barely clinging on to the position of Master of Poison. He knew it was a lost cause. Divinus knew it too. Veles couldn''t help but grin. "You''d think the heroes would make a less deceitful attack, huh? The last leader... Well, he was nice, for one." Divinus''s response was a savage kick to the stomach. Blood flew from Veles'' mouth to the floor as he slumped back against the wall. Kicking a man when he''s down? They''ve really gone downhill... "With a little donation, your former colleagues were happy to help. We saw an opportunity and we took it. Doesn''t matter if it''s ''heroic'' or not. It gets the job done." In the Light Master''s hand, a glowing blade of pure light appeared. He snorted with condescension. "Master of Poison?" spat Divinus. "It''s almost as if you were gunning for Master Null''s position." The other ''heroes'' appeared beside their leader. In the background, charred pages drifted in the ash-filled air as the library was burnt to ashes. So much for the truth. "Can we get this over with?" said one of the hero''s Fire users. "We still have all the rest of the documents to burn." "Soon," returned Divinus, "after I''m done with him." He charged up the Sunblade with magic, even though it was wholly unnecessary. A strange red light filled his helmet as he turned on Veles. "The people wouldn''t have believed you anyway." He scoffed. "Corrupt officials? Hypocritical heroes? Heroes are heroes, villains are villains. It will stay that way." Veles looked upon the glowing blade for the last time. "So... We were the good guys?" He coughed. "This whole time?" Divinus looked down. "Always have been." There was a bright flash of light as the sword rose and fell. 2: THREE FIGURES Three figures walked through the decimated town. Ash and flames swirled around them, but with their spells, they didn''t care. The broken frames and shattered walls of the once-lively town was a stark contrast to how it usually looked¡ªbustling crowds, dozens of street vendors, merchants, adventurers, and charlatans selling their wares. All gone. The whole place was as silent as a desecrated battlefield. The only thing that hinted at a town ever existing here was a fallen sign, reading "WELCOME TO LIGHTFALL!", but even that was swept away as one of the three crushed it under his boot. Brandishing a sort of hand cannon, the damned juggernaut fired at the skeletal remains of a crumbling house. The projectile faced little resistance as the whole thing fell to dust. "They''re all gone? So fast?" He snorted. "I was hoping for a little action. I hate clean-up duty!" He was about to fire off another shot at another house, but a hand stopped him. "Don''t fire when there''s no enemies." Another figure appeared, stepping out of the ash. "You might hit a downed civilian." Her cloak billowed rather ominously in the wind. "Ahaha! We all know the Recovery System in this place is bullcrap! If their house is gone they''re better off dead." The man with the gun pulled away, but he didn''t try to fire again. "You still casting that divination spell?" "Yes. No survivors, as of yet." "As of ever." "Could you two shut up?" A boulder came flying over their head and landed with a minor shockwave beside them. A moment later, the source of the rock came floating up - a man with several smaller pieces of debris floating around it. "I hate it when I have to move stuff and listen to you two." "Says the Gravity user who got delegated to Search and Rescue." The man with the gun huffed. "Can''t you two see? This isn''t a rescue mission. This is a body-count job. Let''s just flatten the place and be done with it. Might save the Earth users some energy." In a small flash of light, his gun switched from a hand cannon to a grenade launcher. "I bought a few scatter bomb shells with me today. Was hopin'' to use them against the damn Villain, but they''ll do just as well in clearing the place out." "Must you always be so brash?" The lady''s eyes glowed blue in the shadow of her cloak as she cast another spell. There might be people alive here. You never know." If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "Alive? No civilian can stay alive from an attack from Tyrinth! Especially now that some shady third party is backing him," he huffed. "We don''t even know this place was attacked in the first place! No outpost, no heroes, no nothing was here!" The Gravity user turned around. "Guys-" "Oh yeah?" The lady ignored him. "What about Deathend? He was sent running with his polymorphed tail between his legs after the Tier 5''s arrived!" "Hey, stop-" "Oh, you know how rare that is! It was a fluke that they were even in the city at that time-" "STOP!" The hovering man sent a spray of dust across the two bickering people. "I found someone." The two of them stopped to look over in the direction in which their debris-clearer pointed. At first, the fog blocked their view. But upon looking closer, they saw the crumbled remains of another house. In front of it was... The bodies of a family. The diviner quickly leaped forward to take a closer look. There were four: A middle-aged man and woman, a younger male, and a small girl, all resting peacefully in the ash. Twirling a spell in her hands, she passed it over the victims - before stopping and hanging her head. "They''re gone." They all paused for a moment. Even the one holding the grenade launcher stopped. "Let''s go." There was no argument. Nodding, the lady pulled the cowl of her cloak over her head and began to walk away. But just before she could begin the walk back to their base... "Wait." She looked at the runes hovering in front of her. They were glowing yellow, not blue. She turned back to the remains of the house. "There''s someone else." Suddenly invigorated with a tiny spark of hope, they rushed back to the house and began searching. "Don''t blow them up!" Called the gravity user. "Don''t crush them!" Returned the gunslinger. Even with the gravity and divination magic, their progress proved to be painfully slow. But soon enough, throwing away another plank of wood, there appeared a body under the mess. "Found them!" The heroes gathered around the body. It was a teenage boy. But that wasn''t the strangest part. Even though the entire house had fallen around him, not a single scratch could be seen on his skin. Around him, there wasn''t a single broken stone or trashed block of rubble. Almost as if it was avoiding him. The diviner cast a quick spell and sighed with relief. "He''s stable, thank God. How on Earth did he survive?" The gunslinger stood up. "I dunno, but he''s got to be the luckiest kid in the world." "So it may seem. Any magic type?" Asked the hovering man. "Let me look..." She cast yet another spell, one for detecting magic, and stopped. The aura of the kid was... Strange. Storm magic? She thought. No, those are quite distinct... Air? But it looks so dark... Ink? No, they''re only in rich places... She cocked her head. "I can''t figure out what type. He''s a magician, but I''ve never seen an aura like this one before. It''s pretty dang weak, too." She took another look, before shaking her head. "Nope." The gunslinger stared incredulously. "What do you mean you ''don''t know''? You have every magic type memorized! You even remember that wet dirt type!" "Mud. And yes, I do. Which makes this even weirder." She got up. "We should take him back to base and run a proper spell on him. Nodding, they collected the strange kid and walked into the smoke. 3: DELIRIOUS INSANITY Night woke up. ...Where was he? He looked around him. There was darkness. Endless darkness. Almost as if a black wind surrounded him. He looked at himself - he was still wearing his usual clothes. Purple hoodie, black trousers, all the same. Then where the hell was he? He took a few steps in a random direction. Nothing happened. Night took another few steps in a different direction. Nothing happened. Wait, how did he even get here? He thought back¡ªnot that there was much to think back to. He remembered his home and his family. Wasn''t there an explosion? Night screamed out into the darkness. His voice didn''t echo; it faded out, as if the world didn''t care about him at all. He tried to reason with himself. He thought you can''t just teleport somewhere; there has to be a process to get to that location. This isn''t a normal place. Is this magic? Has to be. But why? Who would care about a non-magic like me? Who would bother? He stopped. Somewhere in the darkness, there was something else. Walking towards him, before disappearing, before reappearing somewhere else. He peered closer. Something was out there. Something in the shape of a man. Night woke up. ...Where was he? He first heard the gentle hum of what appeared to be a... Mana Generator? Yes, that was it. A healing type. He read about them during his long times in the school library. Why did he need one? Above him stretched a high stone ceiling. Much too grand for a hospital. He tried to get up. Immediately, he felt a wave of aches and pains wash over him. He hesitated - but ignored it and sat himself into a sitting position. It wasn''t a pretty scene. Around him lay dozens of rows of beds, identical to his. Through their open curtains, Night could see each carried an injured passenger; A few were propped up and reading books. Some were asleep. Some were crying out in pain as people, presumably healers, rushed and flowed around them. Most were missing a limb. Most were missing two. Seeing him wake up, one of the healers scampered over from one of the other patients and approached him, quickly pulling the hanging white cloth around his bed, obstructing his view. "Oh, uhm, hello! You''re... Night, am I right?" The man looked like a low-skilled healer. Only the cheapest for us. No offence, Night thought, shifting in the bed. "...Yes, that''s me. Do you know where my family is?" The dark spots on the healer''s shirt grew more prominent. "W-Well, erm, yes! Yes, we do..." He pulled up a series of floating runes before him and began searching through them, apparently looking for something. Looking from behind, Night could make out a few words. His name, age... "Why does it say orphan?" He asked quietly. The crappy healer quickly whisked the runes away. "Oh, um, yes! Well you see-" "I thought you said you know where my family is!?" Night didn''t know what to feel. Anger? Sadness? Probably both. Yeah, both. Maybe envy? I don''t know. Who knows? Ha, I do! No I don''t. Healers don''t either. Those rich Heroes don''t know. Goddammit. Maybe they do know? Do you know? Is this a bad nightmare? Has to be. When can I wake up? Please wake up. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! "Well, so, like, um, we know where they are, it''s just that, um..." The healer stammered. "Basically-" "They''re dead?" Not his fault. It''s not his fault. Not his fault. The healer hung his head. "...Yes." Not his fault. Please don''t blame him. Don''t- "GET OUT!" Night cried, his dismal screech ringing through the hall. The healer fled, dropping his pen as he went. The hospital, infirmary, or whatever went silent for a minute. Then it recovered and returned to normal, with the cries and shouts of people filling it once more. The world didn''t care about him at all, huh? Days went by. Maybe weeks? Night didn''t know. Nor did he care. It was in a dream he slept. It was in a dream he awoke. It was in a dream he ate, before going back to sleep. The only measure of time he had was the subsiding pain - physically - and the healers telling him how his condition was improving. Why are they treating me so well? He thought, staring into the orange of the soup they had placed before him. Part of Night wanted to throw it at something out of an emotion he couldn''t grasp, but he wouldn''t waste food. His family would be appalled. Normally they get us no-magics walking and throw us out again. It was true. He had seen countless people ushered out, even those with missing limbs, while he received celebrity treatment. Hell, they even gave him a councillor, who was now walking towards him. A god damn councillor?! When everyone outside had to rebuild their barely-holding-together homes with their own two hands!? He wasn''t even that bright. "Hello, Night!" The man wearing a white shirt sat down with is face. Well practiced. "...Hi." Night didn''t move. "So, how''s things? Are you thinking about the things that I told you? Are you alright?" "...I am not well." Pulling out a notepad (filled with things completely unrelated to their current situation), the man Night knew as ''Jack'' sighed. "Night, you can''t just want to kill every villain." He shook his head. "Remember, if you kill a killer, the number of killers in the world stays the same." Night turned towards him. "Kill two." "...What?" "Kill two killers." Jack blinked, before coughing. "N-Night, I believe you''re missing my point." "You talked about this yesterday, right?" Night cocked his head. "If there are five killers in the room, and you kill one, there will still be five remaining." The man was visibly sweating. "Yes-" "But if you kill those killers too, how many will remain?" "Well..." "How many?" Night pressed ''Jack''. "...One." Satisfied, Night leaned back into the pillow of his bed. "Not so hard, was it?" Stunned, his councillor paused, before clearing his throat and flipping to a different page of his notepad. "Anyway... The results of those scans came in. The ones who are those heroes who picked you up requested." "..." Night was curious, but didn''t show it. "They say... They say you''re a magician." Night smirked. "Yeah! Of course I am." The councillor didn''t blink. "Wait... For real?" "They say you have a magic type, but they wo- Can''t, tell me what it is." Looking down, ''Jack'' sighed. "Even so, being a magician, with a certified magic type, you have been granted a place at Valour academy." He glanced at Night. "Normally, whether you go or not is up to your parents, but... Yeah." Me? A Magician? Never. Night''s head was left spinning. Is this why they''re treating me so well? Just go outside and help everyone else! Can''t they see all the messed-up shit outside? Stop coddling me and help rebuild someone''s house! Unaware of his thoughts, ''Jack'' continued. "So the responsibility has fallen onto you. Of course, you could refuse, but... Well, it''s highly unrecommended." He stood up. "I''ll leave you to think about your choice." As the footsteps slowly faded away, Night was left sitting, alone. Valour Academy? ...I shouldn''t go. Night swung the cloth off his body. The bandages were still there, but he had enough injuries to know that they had all but healed. Well, mostly. That place is for the rich kids. I don''t even have proper training! But Night knew it could give him something he needed. He had been turning a plan around in his head during the time he had been left in the hospital. It was stupidly dangerous, but he didn''t care. He remembered the moment of the attack now. He remembered the expressions on people''s faces when the dragon''s shadow covered the town in darkness. It was pure... Fear. Terror. With screaming horror soon to follow. Those villains knew nothing but hunger, wiped all life from the outskirts in their search for power. And yet, they remained unsatiated. As for him... They had taken everything from him. Leaving nothing. Nothing but perfect hatred. Villains can be bastards, He thought. But I can be a bastard too. 4: MY WORLDS AFLAME Night walked through the remains of his town. The healers had let him go an hour ago, and he was left to make his way to the only teleportation circle in the town. If they''ve rebuilt it. The damn main city''s magicians always put us on low priority. The damage was worse than he thought. People, mostly family members of those who used to live there, were scattered everywhere, wandering aimlessly, filling the air with a cacophony of names that Night never knew. Now he would never know. They had travelled all this way, perhaps miles, perhaps hundreds of miles, in the hopes of seeing their loved ones... Just for this. Night felt like he was impaled. Am I seriously going to leave them? Like this? He shook his head. I probably can''t do much, but... He knew, if everything went according to plan, that he was going to do more than he ever could by staying and helping. He took a quick detour... Before turning back. He stopped. No, I have to. It would have been flat heresy not to. Grabbing a single rose from one of the remaining stores, Night headed down the side alley he ran down so many times. It felt strange, not being chased by his brother. Though he had hoped a day would come when he could walk down in peace, he severely regretted wishing for such a thing. Hell, he even missed the brawls he and his brother had when the brute caught up to him. Stepping over a fallen tree, he looked at his home. The broken house had already been cleared away by the other townspeople; all that was left was the foundation stone. It''s quiet. The silence is unnerving - usually there was a chorus of chatter or a choir of talk - but now there''s nothing. Like a passing storm without the sound. Walking over, Night noticed the swirling dust by his feet... And the faint but noticeable breeze dragging his hood to the side. The empty air flowing through. The hollow sound of the wind as it slowly moved and churned around him. He knew he shouldn''t be there. Unstable buildings, hidden dangers, all that. But he had to come anyway. Summoning the strength to go closer, he looked down. He had hoped they went peacefully, but the scene suggested otherwise. Old blood stained the ground. Lines and gashes were buried in the stone. Night knew what to expect. It was the same for everyone else in the town. It was just that... Maybe... I wish I could see them one more time. Talk to them. ...Too late for that though. Placing the rose upright in a small patch of dirt, he watched as a solitary tear joined it on the ground. For once, he had trouble thinking about anything. The silence really echoed his own mind. Just... Nothing. Getting up, he looked back for the last time. The blood''s still there. He couldn''t do anything about it. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. But he could do something for everyone else. He walked away, his shoes dragging against the dirt. He thought he heard a child-like voice behind him. But it''s probably just my imagination. "Hey! Night?" Heading towards the teleportation circle, Night saw a familiar man. "Barry?" Laughing, the short but round shopkeeper walked up to him. "Ah, I knew you''d be alright! How are you, anyways?" Barry swept some dust off his own clothes, which seemed much to small for the plump man. "My store''s been, well, y''know. But I''m sure rebuilding will be no problem!" Some distance behind them stood a building, slightly larger than the others. It wasn''t a pretty sight. The windows were shattered, with splintered wood sprayed everywhere across the floor. On the front, the words ''BARRY''S'' was left barely hanging on to the sign, clinging like fresh blood on a wounded man. Volunteers from the other towns were already helping to clean up the mess with buckets and brooms, clearing away the debris, and at the sight of it, Night felt like he had been impaled. "How''d you survive?" Night glanced about. "Isn''t Draco the Villain with the..." "Soul-stealing ability?" Barry shook his head. "Yeah, I got lucky. I was striking a deal with a few merchants out of town when... Well, this happened. God, to think what would happen if those bastards didn''t try and negotiate lower prices." He turned his attention back to Night. "You good?" "Yeah, I''m fine. I''m just... Dropped something off at my place." Night looked at the circle. They would start the spell soon. Barry''s jovial face seemed to melt away. "Yeah. I heard. I''m... Sorry, kid." He looked up. "Is it true? You''re goin'' to Valour?" He asked, in a feeble attempt to change the subject. "Yep." Night glanced at him. The Magicians wanted to start the teleportation spell, and they couldn''t when someone who didn''t pay was in range. "I''m going today, actually." He said, ignoring the glares. "...I see." He took a step forward. "Welp, I shouldn''t hold y''all up. I wish ya luck, wherever you end up." He pat Night on the shoulder. "And don''t fall for any of their mind-games. You''re a good kid, Night." "Thanks. I''ll see you again sometime." As soon as he steeped away, the circle began to glow. Night''s eyes traced the markings etched into the raised plateau, his skin prickling with the palpable sense of magic in the air. He had only been on a circle once, and he barely remembered that experience. It felt strange going alone. He looked back at his town; and looked away. With a final goodbye, Night disappeared with a flash. "Greetings. Yes, I personally made sure that you have nothing else going on at this time." "Calm down, calm down. Just because you''re getting an assignment from the ''big man'' doesn''t mean that you''re one, too. Well, not yet." "Let''s get to the point. This assignment I''m about to give you is not like the others. You can''t talk about it or tell anyone. No, not even your friends. No teachers, either. Except those I say you can talk to." "Hm? Sounds shady? Well, you''re the one who wants this. Want to get a few Credit Points? You''re going to have to do the dirty work. Anyway, as I was saying, you can''t tell anyone. This one''s more of a... Recon assignment." "This year we have more new Hero candidates than ever. Around a hundred, I think? But that''s besides the point." "Out of all of them, almost all of them come from a clan or house or whatever they call those things these days. Those families are getting ruder by the day. Those that don''t come from one of those are usually eliminated, whether by teacher or student. Usually that process is easy." "But there''s going to be a new kid." "His name''s... I forgot. Something like ''darkness'' or something. Anyway, your job will be to... Monitor him. From a distance. You can try to get close if you wish, but either way''s fine. All you have to do is report back to me. I''ll give you his info in a moment, though we don''t have much on him." "Got it? Good. Now go, before anyone starts asking questions." "...Yeah? Why do this?" "That''s none of your business." 5: A WARM-ISH WELCOME Night strolled through the city. He wasn''t going to lie - The Valiant was massive. Beautiful towers and buildings sprawled across the land, and shops ran away into the distance. And these weren''t made of wood. No, rather, they were made of marble of a quality Night didn''t even know existed. Hell, if they used half of the same kind of stone in his own town then maybe it''d still be standing. Even the road he was on was huge. On each side, vendors, merchants and charlatans presented their goods for all the city to see. Heaped upon the stalls, almost as if to boast their wealth, were turkeys, stews, pastries, great joints of meat by the butcher, sausages by the cooks, potions of healing, speed, strength, night vision, and many Night didn''t even know the name of; there were swords, shields, breastplates, leggings, all of which were polished so vigorously that the light seemed to bounce off them like so many scattered mirrors. The stalls were lined with such shining mana-lamps that each one almost looked like a captive star; from every lamp shone a brilliant golden light unlike Night had ever seen before. Night knew he was supposed to be amazed. This was Valiant, after all. The city the Master of Light ruled over. Restraining himself from grabbing something from the unguarded merchants, he made his way to the centre. The deeper he went, the richer the city seemed. Gold and white seemed to fly across the street as the townspeople- No, nobles walked around him. They walked around him in a big circle. Like, really big. But since when did I care about other people''s frowns? Ignoring the looks they sent him, he eventually came across a small building. The words ''VALOUR ACADEMY: CANDIDATE RECEPTION'' were spread across the top, not half as glamorously as the ones that surrounded it. Funnelling into it were teenagers, around his age, all wearing things of different shapes and sizes. Some wore pristine robes and held a obviously-expensive staff in their hand. Others wore simple clothing, wearing nothing but a simple coat as they shuffled inside. Night could see how the two types of people stood apart from each other. Moving to join the queue, he couldn''t help but frown. The building was quite small - Just a little bigger than his former home. But there were so many people going inside. How could they all fit? Were they going underground? From the back, he could see about, what, thirty people? This would probably take a- "Yo! What''s up?" Night spun around. He was about to reach into his coat when- Oh yeah. They took it away. Stupid hospital security guards. Night read the person who had greeted him. He had short blonde hair, fair skin, but not so fair it told everyone they used illusion magic on themselves. A simple brown coat, too thin to hide anything, black trousers, no enchantments... I think. Probably... Just another guy like me? Maybe. He''s too friendly to be from the outskirts, though. He seemed alright. "...Hi." "Hey!" He smiled. "I''ve never seen you around here before. You new to this part of town?" Night had met too many people who pretended to be nice, before stabbing the person they befriended in the back. Those types of people were all too common. "Yeah." Night gave him a small smile. "The name''s Night," he said, extending a hand. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Smiling broadly, the stranger extended his own hand into a lively handshake. "Artis. But most people call me Art." He turned towards the line. "Night''s a name?" "I mean, it''s mine, so, yeah?" Night glanced at him. "Art''s a name? Artis?" "It''s pronounced Ar-Tees, and yes, it is." Art stood on his toes to try and get a better view of the line, but after realising he wasn''t tall enough, gave up. "Anyway... So, you''re also a candidate for Valour?" Night nodded. "Yep. But why are we called ''candidates''? Shouldn''t we be called students?" Art raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, you''re definitely new around here." He raised his hands as if to make a gesture, before stopping and putting them down again. "So... You know how Heroes are supposed to be, like, virtuous and brave and all that?" "Yeah." Night looked Art up and down. "That''s the point, right? How we''re different from the Villains?" "Exactly. And the Heroes can''t have..." Art stumbled on his words. "Um... Like, fakers-" "You mean fraudsters?" Night suggested. "Yes! Yeah, that. Anyway, the Heroes don''t want people pretending to be good getting into the academy, using all the resources, before getting kicked out or turning into Villains after graduation." Art continued. "So they implemented a system where they check everyone to make sure they''re all good and stuff. Think of it as a... Alignment check." "Okay..." Night thought. "Wait, how do they do that?" "Oh, basically, they look at your soul." "Alr-" Night stopped. "Hold on. Your soul?" "Yeah!" Art confirmed cheerfully. "Don''t worry, it''s not as bad as you think. They only look at what they have to. They also check out your magic type, while they''re at it." "My soul?" Night stared. "How the hell does that even work?" Art''s eyes widened. "Woah, no swearing!" Night blinked. "...Hell isn''t a swear word." "Don''t say it! And yes, it is!" Art huffed. "Well," Night muttered to himself, "If that''s how you react to hell, I wonder what''ll happen when I say shi-" Art coughed loudly. Whether to avoid the swear-bomb, or for some other reason, Night didn''t know. "You see those totem-statue things over there?" "Hm?" Looking over, Night could see multiple towering, stone statue-like... Things. The shortest of them was just shy of the ceiling. The tallest was, well, sticking out of it, with a special glass dome protruding from the ceiling just to make sure it could fit. Each of them took a different shape. One was a lion, the other was an owl, and a different one was a wizard. Each of them had a pair of glowing gems in their eye sockets, almost as if they were staring at the ''candidates'' who stood beneath them. Night knew he didn''t have to, but he felt compelled to whisper. "So what-" Art shushed him. "Watch." He said, pointing. Night looked as one of the students wearing a red and orange robe-like thing stood beneath one of the statues. One shaped like a dragon. After talking to one of the people stationed behind a booth next to the statue, she turned around. Stepping onto a small platform in front of it, the girl bowed her head, ever so slightly, and stopped. After a few seconds, the platform glowed with a golden light - A disguised teleportation circle, Night thought. A triumphant look spread across her face as in a familiar flash, the girl disappeared. "So... It''s as easy as that?" Night asked. "Look!" Art said, raising a finger. Up ahead, beneath a different statue stood another boy. Night couldn''t get a clear line of sight on the kid, but he could see the boy''s face clear enough. Standing on top of the platform, the boy repeated the same steps as the other girl. But instead of the circle glowing yellow, it glowed red. A look of alarm shot across the boy''s face as he suddenly disappeared in a single, red flash. Night winced. He didn''t know what happened, but it didn''t look good. "...What happened to him?" "He''s either evil or he was thinking something sussy when the statue read him." Art sighed. "Happens to, what, half of all candidates?" Night looked at the line. Almost time. "Where do they end up? Those who fail?" Art thought for a while, before shrugging. "Actually, I have no idea!" His eyes widened as he saw the last person in front of Night walk forward. "Looks like it''s your turn, huh? Well, good luck!" Seeing a spot open up, Night was about to go forward when he stopped for the last time. "Wait, what does ''sussy'' mean?" Art gaped at Night. "You know, sus?" "Yeah, but what does ''sus'' mean?" "...Suspicious?" "Oh, okay." 6: A DARK SOUL Night stepped onto the platform. Soul reading, huh? He looked around. Well, there''s a first time for everything. The shadow of the statue cast him into dim light. The outstretched wings seemed to take up the most room out of all the statues. Night didn''t know if the sculptors had deliberately made the owl-shaped thing intimidating or not, but it certainly was. "You''d think they''d make sure the dumb bird fits in the room, right?" Turning around, Night saw an old lady sitting behind a wooden booth. She looked like she wasn''t having a great day. Her green glasses were pushed to the tip of her long-ish nose, exactly the way Night didn''t like them. She didn''t look like a very old person, yet, but the lines and creases of fatigue were beginning to show on her face. "Um, yeah." Night looked around. Now that he thought about it, the whole place looked pretty... Shabby. "Is this the normal place for this or-" "The usual building is undergoing renovations." She said, in a monotone voice. "Now, are these right?" After waving her hands about in a strange pattern, a series of words and runes appeared in front of her.
NAME: [ERROR]
AGE: [ERROR]
MAGIC TYPE: [ERROR]
SOUL: [PENDING]
I guess they do all their paperwork using magic around here. Or at least, intended to. "Uhm, I think..." Swivelling her chair, she stopped. "Well, that''s just dumb, isn''t it? We just bought a new mana-machine to power this damn thing and it acts up first time?" Muttering in frustration, she pulled out a slip of paper. "Name?" "Night," he said. "Notale." The lady paused. "Notale? Never heard that name around here. Age?" "Fifteen." "Magic type?" She actually looked up for this one. "...Not a clue. But they said they would check, well, later." She sighed. "Candidates these days..." Making a few big motions with her pen, presumably striking things out, she slapped the paper down on the desk beside her. "I''ll get these to the main office ''later''. Now, you were watching the other kids doing their readings, right?" She gave him a sideways look. Night coughed. "Yeah-" "Good. Now, just do what all of those kids did and it''ll be fine." She stopped for a moment. "Unless you''re evil." She shook her head. "Ah, whatever." This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Copying the others, Night bowed his head and looked down. Soul reading? How the hell can I get through this test? I''m no ''pure of heart'' guy that the heroes want. Night blinked. If it can see my past, I''m screwed... The statue sat, alone. What time was it? When was it able to return to the dazzling entrance halls it once knew? Even as a sentient statue, it had forgotten. Sighing internally- Wait, how does one sigh internally? If the statue could shake it''s head, it would have. Right now, it was simply... Tired. Reading candidate after candidate, telling the human opposite it which button to press, it was a energy-intensive process. After a while, everyone''s soul looked the same. Some looked bigger, some smaller, a few were strange colours. But other than these small variations there was little difference. The statue set its glinting eyes upon the next candidate. On the outside, this one looked different, no doubt. No fancy clothing, no clan or family emblem. It would have called this human a vagabond, if an infamous magician had not already taken that name. Bored, it began concentrating it''s energy on the human. It bowed it''s head like the others. Yes or no? Like so many times before, the statue saw it''s vision blur, before... ... What? The owl looked around. Inside the soul, it had an incorporeal form. It was about to move, but it felt... Strange. This soul was entirely dark. Around it, black winds swirled, howling around it. Confused, it tried to fly higher. Normally, the actual contents of a soul only took up half the space in it. Maybe... Maybe this person just likes the colour black? Soon enough, it had flown as high as it could go. Still, inky darkness pervaded the entire place. What in Divinus''s name? The usual areas - Happiness, sadness, anger - They were all gone. There wasn''t anything there. Disturbed, it tried to look for the largest one. Love. Every human had a spark of it, somewhere. Usually at the heart of their soul. Descending, the owl-shaped apparition quickly made its way to the centre. Surely, there had to be something- Oh, Gods. Sure enough, it had found something. At the core of the soul, a massive, broken crystal-like... Thing hovered in place. From the cracks, black mist and fog and smoke flew, spreading to every corner of the soul, supressing, and sometimes, destroying the other emotions. The statue knew what this was. The inverted version of love. Hatred. But this? This was so... Massive. It wasn''t supposed to be this big. Was it really just hatred? Fury? Rage? There wasn''t a strong enough word to describe it. Immediately, the owl started to exit the soulspace, casting magic faster than it had for a long, long time. Before it left, it took one last look at the soul. And it trembled. This human MUST NOT get into Valour! Night waited. Nothing was happening. None of the gems on the statue glimmered. No movement. No change. After a minute or two, Night slowly began to turn around. "Is this..." "Hold on." The old lady grumbled, taking a chunk out of a sandwich she appeared to have produced from nowhere. "Sometimes they take a while." Nodding, Night held his patience. And another minute passed. And another. Just before another could pass, the old lady, wiping her hands on a napkin, tossed a clipboard down. "Alright, maybe this one''s broken." "Broken?" Night looked around. The other people behind him didn''t seem too pleased with the big holdup. "Is that even possible?" "Yeah, happened once before. Pretty damn rare, but I guess you''re a luck sod." Tapping a few buttons on her desk, the words in front of Night changed.
NAME: Night Notale
AGE: 15
MAGIC TYPE: [UNKNOWN]
SOUL: ACCEPTED [MANUAL]
He looked the statue up and down. "So I don''t have to, like, do it again?" The lady rolled her eyes. "Uhm, there''s a big line of people waiting behind you?" She sighed. "Alright, it was nice meetin'' you, and all that." Pulling a sort of lever, she gave Night a half-hearted wave. "Bye bye!" "Hold on!" Night quickly raised a hand as the ring below him began to glow a bright yellow. "Can you find out what magic type I am?" "I have no idea, kiddo!" She said. With the press of one more button, Night was gone in a flash. 7: GATES OF A FALSE HEAVEN Another stupid teleport. Well, better than walking by foot I guess. Night shook his head. What''s with magicians and teleporting? I mean, I know it''s fast and all, but can''t they make portals where we can see where we''re go- He stared forward. Oh shit. There were rumours that the castle was owned by a family of giants before they were exterminated by the Kingdom''s soldiers. Now, Night was beginning to believe them. Before him lay a polished white-stone bridge, shimmering under the sun as it disappeared into the dark crevasses of a pair of looming gates. Did I see those in a postcard before? In the distance, a towering castle rose high, its spires stretching into the sky like chimneys to heaven. Each of the five towers loomed large, almost like they refused to let the landscape show it''s own beauty. The gates... Well, they had to be the biggest things he''d ever seen. You could probably fit a 3-story house under those. "You made it!" Spinning around, Night saw Art shooting up off a nearby bench and leaping towards him. "Oh hey!" He made it? Of course he did. He''s definitely not evil. Right? He cleared that thought out of his mind. Nah, he''s not. "What is this place?" He glanced at the edifice. No way that- Art gave him the ''what the heck?'' look. "Mate, that''s Valour!" Night stared at the castle, then to Art, then back at the towering structure. "...Nah." Art threw his hands up. "Yessir! Jeez, being here in person is AWESOME! Y''know, sometimes when I look at massive buildings like this my heart beats really fast for no reason, but it stops really fast so-" Night flicked his gaze toward Art. "You mean palpitations?" Art stared blankly. "Palpa... Yeah! Yeah, that." Night couldn''t move. He had heard about places like these where the super-rich went to study, but he had thought those pictures were just false adverts to get more people to pay up. How much magic did it take to make... "But seriously. What kind of school is big?!" His friend rolled his eyes. "First, it''s an academy. Not a school. Schools are for no-magics. What were you studying at your old-" "Economics." "...What?" Night turned away. "I was studying economics at my old school. Also a bit of literature. And some math. Y''know, regular stuff. But mainly economics." He sighed. "Well, before it got blown up." It took a full ten seconds for Art to process this information and run back to Night, who had walked quite a distance away. "Wait, so you''re telling me, you''ve never studied magic-" "Nope." "What about combat? Surely-" "Nada." "Weapon handling?" Night threw a look at him. "Weapon handling? Doesn''t that fall under combat?" Art rushed in front of him. "So... Y-you''re telling me... You''re going to the most prestigious, competitive, biggest-" He pointed, "Academy in the continent, and you haven''t been in a fight before?" Night flashed a sad smile. "Well, my brother used to beat me up a lot so-" "THAT''S NOT WHAT I MEAN!" Night winced and tilted his head this way and that. "Eh... Effectively, yeah." Art took a deep breath. "Okay... Okay. Well- Yeah, I guess... Maybe you could get away with being a... Scribe? No combat for you, definitely. I mean your magic type... Oh yeah, there''s that too. Hopefully... Perhaps..." Night just stared the whole time. "Are you okay?" I think I broke him. "Yeah! Just thinking." Art shook his head. "Anyway, about your magic type, what did you get? Okay, first, what took you so long?" Art changed his tone. "I saw a massive queue behind the reader you were at." This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. "Well, the statue was..." Night coughed. "Broken." "Broken?" Art gaped. "What d''ya mean ''broken''? They''re literally living things!" "Are they?" After seeing the other''s furious nodding, Night turned around and continued to walk down the endless bridge. I hate it when they make long-ass bridges like this. "Well, it just, um, stopped working." Art threw his hands into the air, opened his mouth, closed his mouth, waved his hands about, before shaking his head and following Night. "Okay. Well, what magic type are you?" Art was beaming. "I''m a creation user!" "Creation?" It was Night''s turn to be perplexed. He paused, confusion knitting his brow as he gazed ahead. A creature soared in the sky, its massive wings rivalling the size of the castle walls themselves. Was it a wyvern? He couldn''t tell. The beast danced through the air, spiralling around the towering spires, diving sharply before climbing again in a graceful arc, disappearing into the background. So... Nobody''s gonna say anything? "Wait, is that-" "Yeah, that''s Divinus''s dragon. Anyway, about Creation... Where was I? Oh yeah. It''s self explanatory." Art walked a bit faster to get in front of Night, before walking backwards so he could face the no-magic. "Creation lets you, uh, make things!" Side-lining the question and not answering it? Okay. "Like, what kind of things?" "Y''know, walls, swords, stairs, anything! But the bigger the item, the more energy it takes, obviously." He looked about, before sliding closer to Night. "My parents were kinda expecting this, actually." "Really?" "Yeah! My grandfather was a creation user, my mom''s a creation user, so we kinda figured it would get passed down or something." "So your dad also had magic?" Night asked. But this doesn''t make any sense! If neither of my parents had magic... How did I get anything? Well don''t know that yet, but... "I mean, neither my parents were-" "What?" Art chuckled. "No, my father doesn''t have magic. He''s a regular guy." "What does he do?" "My dad was a toolmaker!" Art replied. "So anyway, what did you get?" Seems normal enough. Night shrugged. "No idea." "Ha! Ha ha..." Art faltered. "You''re messing with me, right?" "Mm, no. They literally said I have to ask the damn-" Art''s finger shot up. "Language!" "-Teachers what type I am." Art stopped short in front of him. "So let me get this straight." "Yeah?" "No knowledge of magic." "Yeah." "No combat training." "Yeah." "No magic type, yet. And even if you get one, it''s probably something you can''t use to help you because all the other kids here are more experienced than you." Night shrugged. "Well, yeah. But there''s over two hundred documented magic types, and the vast majority are combat-based, or orientated, so maybe I''ll get one that helps me get through this-" "You''re so cooked." "...Yeah." The two of them walked beneath the mammoth gates and disappeared under it''s shadow. The massive courtyard, which could easily fit a hundred magicians, look just like the maps Night read in the days of his old school. Huge space to make the place look great. One-way window disguised as the stone wall to my left, spaces for enough magic-archers to take down an army concealed at the right. They could at least to keep the blueprints out of the public domain. But who''d take a few hours to stare at those? The whole space is shaped like an oval - not because it''s a good design choice - and around a hundred... Candidates? Now they had passed the soul-reading test, he didn''t know what they were called. He was going to call them ''students'' from now on. Most of the students congregated in the centre, of the space, chattering amongst themselves. Night stopped suddenly. Wait, isn''t this whole place- Ah. Yes. Best to keep calling them ''candidates'', then. The expressionless guards lining the walls stared ominously as more students filed through, their suits of metal armour standing in stark contrast to the golden walls behind them. All the kids entering here had years of training and practice to prepare themselves for this. Night had none of that. Well, he had some knowledge. But that''s about it. "Hey! Snap out of it!" Art jabbed Night on the shoulder. "You good?" "Y-yeah, I''m good." Night knew what was about to happen. "Have you trained for this before?" "...Trained for what?" "Nothing, then." Maybe we''re all dead. In a burst of vivid light, a figure appeared. The large man stepped forward, seemingly... Levitating? Yes, the hem of his white robe floated above the ground. Night had to physically restrain himself from craning over for a better look. Magic. "Greetings, candidates!" His voice to reverberated throughout the rotunda. More magic. "You, are all pure of heart. Take a look around! Look at peers, for they may be your fellow magicians in the future. Well, that is, if you don''t kill them in training." A hundreds of laughs and cheers went up, echoing around. Night didn''t. "Art, do you know what''ll happen?" He whispered. His beaming face turned towards Night. "What?" "You know its not over, right? This whole place... It''s not a courtyard." "Each and every one of you have passed the first test. The power you must feel! You have been just taken your first step into a wider world. A world riddled with problems and evil, definitely, but the wider world nonetheless." He raised his hands. "Here, starts your journey to becoming Heroes. And for your sake, I wish you luck." More cheers went up. In the midst of it, Night whisper-shouted. "It''s not a courtyard! There''s a Demi-plane Constructor! Underground!" Art''s smile melted away, like so much snow on the road. "Wait... A Demi-plane... My parents told me about those! Can''t you create literal sub-realities with-" "HOWEVER!" The levitating man bellowed. The cheers stopped. "There is a reason why you shouldn''t know your peers." "For the next time you see them..." A slow, sinister smile crept up the man''s face. "You may have to kill them." As exclamations of confusion and anguish rang out, the scene shifted. The walls melted away into black crags. The sky seemed to fade into a hellish red. "Did you really think you would be admitted to our academy... With a simple reading?" 8: COOK OR BE COOKED "Wait, we''re inside a... Demi-plane?" Despite the hellish landscape around them, Art was acting like they were in heaven. "Holy-" He stopped himself. "Dang. Never thought I''d be inside one of these before!" "Can you stop mucking about?" Night looked about. "We''re literally in hell!" The place was intimidating, to say the least. Night, Art, and the rest of the other kids were placed atop a great stone platform, which appeared to be... Floating? More magic, I guess. Splayed out in front of them was a series of smaller stone platforms, each one gliding up and down in an almost rhythmic pattern, hovering a few dozen feet above the spitting, seething lava below them. Art''s gaze hovered down. "I know that my parent''s talked about it and all, but I just wanna check... Is that real?" "Yes. All of it is. Everything made inside a Demi-plane Constructor is real." Night recited. "Unless they''re manifesting illusion magic. Doesn''t matter. The fall would kill you anyway." "Well, shoot. I''m alright at parkour though, so-" "Attention, candidates!" The man reappeared in the air once more, his voice booming overwhelmingly loudly in the strange cave they seemed to be in. "This is your second challenge. Heroes don''t only have a good heart. They have strength! And courage!" Lirous shouted the lines that he must have memorised beforehand. "To pass, you must have both!" Night coughed. "For God''s sake, just move on already." "Your task is simple. Get to the other side of this cavern without falling. Once your on the other platform, you will be considered ''safe''. There are no rules other than that." A strange grin made it''s home on his face. "Good luck." And in a flash of beaming light, the man disappeared from view. "Wait." Art turned. "He said ''no rules'', right? Does that mean..." "Killing is allowed?" Night shrugged. "Ah, heck. Whatever." Facing the multitude of stone platforms, he turned around. However, not everyone was as concentrated as he. "EVERYONE!" A loud voice echoed through the chamber. "I HAVE PLAYED THESE GAMES BEFORE!" A kid with a plain white shirt and jeans was waving his arms about wildly, apparently in an attempt to grab everyone''s attention. People weren''t paying him much heed, apart from the occasional chuckle and sideways look. "Who on earth is that?" Night knew the kind of guy who was rapidly approaching. Rapid is an understatement. "Oh! That''s, uh, John." Art frowned. "John F Johnson. Normally he''s a bit of a, uh, messer, but in this case he should be alright." Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. "HEY! You over there!" John stormed towards the pair. "Who are you!? Never seen you ''round here before!" Art was about to say something when Night stepped forward. "The name''s Night. You''re John, right?" John shoved his big hands in his big pockets. "Yep, That''s me!" He cocked his head. "Your name''s Night? Your parents must hate you!" "They liked me just fine." Oh, he wants to do that, does he? "Who wears buttoned shoes these days, anyway?" Night nodded downwards. "My little sister used to wear those." John threw his head back and simply laughed. "You seem like a cool guy. I''ll try not to kill ya." He slapped Night on the shoulder - who recoiled from him - and walked off. Art breathed out. "Alright, that wasn''t so bad." He glanced at the figure disappearing in the crowd. "Normally he makes a big scene of things." Night turned back. "So is he the only one we gotta worry about?" But before Art could reply, shouts reverberated throughout the cavern, some loud enough to make small pebbles to rattle down from the craggy ceiling. People began to rush to the side, and a certain tightness winched itself up in Night''s chest. The stone platform had lowered itself to a level where it was safe to cross, and soon it would lower itself into the churning lava below. It was time to move. The roaring flames were a call to battle. Each step to the next platform was a step into the firing line. There was no time to talk. Night and Art bolted between the platforms, avoiding any magic-powered skirmishes they could. Occasionally, a platform would drop itself directly into the lava without warning, leaving nothing but a gaping hole in the rocky pattern. Worse still, sometimes there were still people on them. Night was no stranger to running, though. Keep going. No problems here. Don''t mind us, just passing through- A streak of fire launched itself into the ground at his feet, flames licking his shoes, and he jumped back. "Crap!" From the corner of his eye, he spotted another, and ]he ducked as another mote of fire shot past just above his head. The heat must have singed the hairs off his neck. "You runt! Get back here!" Night jerked his head around. Two of the other kids, apparently magic-users, were fighting on a separate platform. One was wielding a pair of flintlock pistols, whilst the the other was hurling flames all over the place. Night didn''t know whether to feel relieved the two of them weren''t being targeted or shook that he nearly lost his head. "You good?" Art called forward. "Yeah, just a bit, y''know." Night brushed the arms of his hoodie, even though there wasn''t really any need to. "Can''t you do anything? Creation magic, right? Can''t you make a..." He glanced over at the two arguing kids. "Gun? A sword?" Art nodded. "I mean, let me see." Making a few strange gestures in the air, blue and navy rectangular sparks swirling. Seemingly shaping the sparks, he extended it until... It was a dull metal rod. "..." Night slumped. "Didn''t you say you did this before?" Art gaped. "Says the guy who can''t use magic at all!" He held the simple but weighty tool in one hand, making it look more like a walking stick than weapon. "I normally make pens and stuff, but those take an hour or two." "An hour or two?!" Night shook his head. "I know, I can''t use any, but look at them! They''re throwing fire and shooting automatically reloading flintlocks-" "Shoot." The platform they were on shook, and the two barely had time to jump as the platform fell with horrifying speed into the lava below. Night nearly stumbled as his forward foot caught the edge of the opposite platform. "Dammit." Night turned around. "We''ll talk when-" "Talk with who?" A different voice asked behind him. 9: TWO STEPS FROM HELL Night look over his shoulder. Wait, did I- Oh. His gut twisted as he realized his error. He separated from Art. "So it''s true, huh? They let a no-magic get in? Do you know when the last time that happened was?" Just a dozen feet in front of him, a girl clad in shimmering golden armour stepped forward. The plate mail glinted in the light, its intricate designs catching the dangerous glow of the lava. In her hand, she held a spear that seemed to hum with an ethereal glow, radiating a golden light. Light magic? Must be. Or maybe she''s just an entitled rich kid. "Yeah, about that, eh, I''m not actually-" Her golden eyes seemed to flash. "Whatever. Point is, you seem pretty weak. You can''t wield magic either, can you?" She scoffed. "Any combat training?" Why do they all care about fighting here? "Look, can we just go our separate ways? I''ve got a friend I need to-" "It''s not about that. You''re a commoner, right? No clan or family - of note - to support you. No patron. And that means you''re going to have to rely on your allies to help you. Which means-" Night sighed. "You''re saying I''m a liability?" "Yes-" "You''ve got to be kidding me, right?" He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You seem well off. Can''t you just, like, buzz off?" The blonde-haired girl slammed the butt of her magical spear on the stone floor. "Excuse me, do you know who I am?" Night was fed up. "Well actually, no, I don''t know you. So can you... Not?" In a heartbeat, the glowing spear appeared where Night''s head had been less than a second ago, the girl jabbing it forward like a fencer, one arm outstretched, the other out behind her. Night jolted violently to the side, heart racing. BRO! GOD DAMMIT! WHY?! WHAT DID I DO? Shifting back to his feet, he tried to gain some distance. But when you''re stuck on a round, stone platform with a crap-ton of lava flowing beneath it, I don''t have much space to move. And yes, the girl clearly had combat training, too. So swift, silent, and calculated were her movements like that of a war-battered general in the heat of battle, that he couldn''t help but think how effective she would be if she put all her effort and energy into attacking the bad guys, instead of wasting her time on him. Seeing her initial attack miss, she scowled as she twisted the outstretched spear mid-air with a flick of her wrist, and charged forward, the golden spear of light resting on her shoulder, the front in her hand, the tip pointing right at his face. But it wasn''t the spear that made Night''s stomach turn. This wasn''t a bar fight. Of course, Night had never been inside a bar before. Well, not formally, at least. But every time he had gotten into a fight, it was brutish. About strength, speed, and how riled up you could get your opponent before the actual fight started. Here, it was all about skill. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it And weapons, which he didn''t have. ...Depending on what your definition of weapon is. Dancing to the side, he swiftly took off his hoodie, revealing the black shirt beneath, and dashed towards the girl- No, his enemy. Wrapping one end of the coat around his left hand, he held one arm of it in the other hand. She narrowed her eyes, but didn''t stop. Just as the spear was about to impale him, he whirled the hoodie around the head of the spear, and summoned all his strength to yank the stupid glowing thing away. A rush of satisfaction surged through him as the spear left his attacker''s hand. A feeling of annoyance bubbled up as, in a flash, it disappeared and reappeared in the girl''s other hand. Well, shi- With a swift motion, she swapped her grip on the spear to backhand, launching the lower end of the weapon straight at Night''s torso. He barely had time to raise an arm in defence as the spear struck him with a staggering impact, sending him rolling dangerously close to the edge of the platform. She returned to her neutral position, glowering with... Satisfaction? Night couldn''t care. "This isn''t a tavern brawl, y''know." She raised her weapon into a backhand stance. "You''re name''s Night, right?" Night put on his hoodie again. No point using it now. "Huh? No. You''re looking for a guy?" Ignoring the question, the girl paused. "...What? But you''re-" "DWEEB!" Art leapt over from the platform adjacent to Night''s, wielding his metal rod like a madman. The girl was forced to take a step back as he took a swing at her, before she lifted her spear back up and snapped it forward, pointing it at Art. Night pushed himself off the floor. "You really can''t say much, can you?" "Shut up!" Art backed away from the girl, before looking at him. "How the heck did you get into a fight with her?" Art hissed, putting himself in a pseudo-sword fighting stance. The rod was too heavy to manoeuvre as quickly as one, Night could tell. "What? I don''t know!" Night threw his hands up. "I accidentally jumped on the same platform as her and she started spouting some crap about liabilities!" "Doesn''t matter now." Art held still. "Wait, you do know-" "Who she is? Heck no." Art wavered. "How do you not know!?" Night shrugged. "I mean, if she''s that famous, why haven''t I heard of her?" Art nearly dropped his metal pole, seemingly trying to pronounce a word he didn''t know, which there are many, before shaking his head and staring back. "Man, that''s Chalice! Divinus''s kid!" The hoodied boy stopped. "...Oh. Like, Divinus, the Master of Light?" "Really, if you don''t know your history, then you shouldn''t be here." The girl glowered, seemingly annoyed at being left out of the conversation. "Can you-" "Oh, I know my history." Night turned back. "I used to visit the library almost everyday. I just didn''t read anything the Kingdom published about itself." Chalice suppressed a laugh. "Why not? Sounds like-." "Uh, bias?" Night sighed in exasperation. "Guess they don''t teach media literacy-" "Mate," Art said, "Can you stop using those obscure terms? I know you like them and all, but-" "ENOUGH!" Chalice commanded. "You''re getting in my way, Creation user. You shouldn''t have made friends with a fool like him." With one quick motion, Art was sent rolling on the floor dangerously close to the edge, as Chalice dashed towards Night, covering the space between them in three steps. Night braced himself as the girl held her spear out in front of her, shoving forward with unprecedented speed. In a swift motion, Art was sent tumbling across the floor, perilously close to the edge as Chalice surged toward Night, closing the distance between them in just three powerful strides. Night braced himself as she held and thrust her spear forward, the weapon cutting the air with astonishing speed. Night was left to fend for himself as pebbles tumbled down into the endless distance before the roaring heat. A strange energy filled Night. It wasn''t an adrenaline rush - he had experienced that too many times before - but something else. Something that coursed through his veins, surging, threatening to burst out of his body. He tried to use this to his advantage, his two hands on the glowing weapon, next to Chalice''s, trying to push it back. "It was nice knowing you, Night." Chalice swung the spear up, forcing his hands off, sending him stumbling on the edge of the platform, Art just beginning to recover, grabbing the air behind him. "Goodbye." With a final blow from the spear, Night was sent falling into the lava. 10: HES NOT DEAD YET Am I going to die? Night felt the wind rushing around him. He had felt something like this before. It was never this... Long. He saw the platforms above him. Soon they would be out of sight forever. The strange energy was still coursing through him. It was stronger now. Flowing through him, shaking his very bones. What a waste! All that power, lost. He was falling at such an angle that he could see his destination - the bubbling pools below were suffocated with molten rock and swirling embers, a glowering orange and black, like the infernal stomach of some oversized demon. Scattered around the orange ocean, towering mounds of hardened lava, great ridges of scorched earth and smouldering stone, loomed like a grotesque graveyard, slowly illuminated by the flickering glow of the molten river. Weirdly enough, he didn''t feel panicked. Like it was supposed to happen. ... What about them? What about my family? My brother. My sister. Art. Am I going to let them win? That villain who killed them all? Those heroes who do nothing but talk? If I don''t do it, who will? The energy in him was raging so much Night felt he was about to explode. He didn''t care about that. He knew he was going to kill Tyrinth. Blasted dragons. He knew he would. He''d boil every ocean, cut through every land, tear through every kingdom just to kill that asshole, to tear them limb from limb, snap their bones, keep them burning for eternity. He would, that evil... "...Fucker." Bolts of black and purple flew like lightning from Night''s body as his vision blurred. One crackled from his right eye, arcing down his cheek. The energy seemed to tear through him, infecting his breath, his lungs, spreading to every corner of his body. He knew it was. What else would it be? Magic was supposed to be good, right? He had experienced magic in the past, like that in the makeshift hospital in his hometown. But that felt pleasant. This magic feels... Different. Night felt like the energy coursing through him, burning his blood, like an ancient devil screaming to be let free. It''d suck ass if I died now. He wouldn''t. At that moment, he felt like a god. The power didn''t own him; He owned the power. The crackle of black lightning swirled around him, encasing him in a swirling vortex of energy, and at that moment, he had one goal - to get back up on those platforms. Could he even do that? Did he know how? Strangely enough, it came to him... Almost instinctively. Like an old skill you hadn''t used for many years. Like a skill he had used before. In a flash of black, Night disappeared. Art stared down into the lava, the angry light burning his eyes. Chalice had already leapt away, towards the exit. He couldn''t have just fallen like that, right? His new friend! Pushed into lava! By Chalice, no less. What did she want with him? If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. All that was left of Night was sparks of black left hanging in the violent air. He suppressed a sob. Maybe his parents were right. Right about not making attachments too- An explosion rang out behind him, sending shockwaves through the stone, jagged streams of purple energy flying. "...What the sigma?" Invisible, Lirous watched the action from above. Most of the new candidates were alive. Better than half, He thought. Having only fifty to work with was a pain in the ass. He turned his head to the centre. It seemed Chalice was meeting the new ones. She had already greeted the one Lirous had been keeping an eye on. A ''Night''. The Light Master had sent someone to watch over him, he''d been told. Still, the boy was sent flying into the lava by Chalice. Sad. He seemed quite interesting. It would''ve been fun to investigate him further. But only the strongest survive here, anyway. Just as the boy was about to touch the lava, he disappeared, blinking out of existence. And in a crackle of purple magic, reappeared in the centre of the platform above. Lirous hesitated. Teleportation? Using his magic, he cast a simple spell and looked at the energy traces. He stared harder. Of course, magic. But what kind? He gazed into the dark aura of it. A moment later, his expression of shock melted into one of sinister joy. Divinus was right. "Void user," he muttered to himself. Smiling and shaking his head, he turned away, white robes billowing in the warm winds from the lava below. A Void user was in Valour. Their Void user. Stumbling, Night''s vision slowly returned. He opened his mouth. "What the actual fu-" "HEY!" Art ran over. "No swearing! And are you alright?" Night glowered as hard as the lava had at him. "...That''s your second concern?" "Huh?" His ''friend'' asked, oblivious. "Never mind." He looked down. His feet were still anchored firmly on the floor. Standing. Not falling. "I... Teleported?" He took a shaky step forward. "You have been holding on to your tricks, huh?" Art grinned, pointing his metal stick to the exit. "Let''s get out of here." "Yeah, let''s-" Night tripped, stumbling, tripping, and then regaining his balance. Crap. He felt like crap. His arms were made of iron, his legs lead, and he felt like ten-kilogram weights were strapped to his black shoes. ...Black from soot. At least the mildew''s gone. "Woah! Easy!" Art grabbed him by the shoulder. "First time using magic''s always the worst." Night flinched before he groaned. "Is it always like this? Using magic?" "It always depends." Art took a few steps forward. "Can you walk?" Nodding slowly, he walked to the edge. "I''ve walked half a mile with a broken arm once. I''m sure as-" Night stopped. "I''m sure I can get by." "Great!" They took a few steps forward. "And hell''s not a swear word!" Night blurted out. Art sighed. "Let''s just go. We''d better move." "You think you''ll be safe now?" Chalice''s voice is cold. And close. Shoot. Prying himself from Art''s hands, Night dragged him away quickly and ran to the next platform, the adrenaline returning to his body. "Can''t you leave us alone!?" He shouted behind him. Her response was a shaft of a spear barely missing his head. "When you''re dead," she responded, "I may consider it." "I can use magic, asshole!" Night called. Art followed him as Night focused, as best as he could, on the best path, picturing each and every platform, which one might fall, which one probably wouldn''t, all the while trying to stay out of the way of the other kids. "Why don''t you use that magic to blow up this demi-plane then?" Chalice mocked. Her voice was getting clearer over the heat. So were the footsteps. She was gaining on them. "Or why don''t you summon a storm of swords to impale everyone?" What is she on about? Night jerked his gaze backwards, seeing a sinister smile touch Chalice''s mouth. She came for him, her strides eating up the space between her and the pair with horrifying speed. There were only a dozen feet left to the final platform, and Night threw himself forward, right foot almost slipping off, but he managed to stay on. A blast of crackling thunder sounded beside him, the shockwave slamming into him, Night''s arms flailing. "Crap!" His body was tossed left, only stopped by Art''s hand grabbing him at the last second. "Woah! Careful!" Art leaps ahead, pulling Night forward, just as another spear lands behind them. Adrenaline surges through his veins as he sprints the last few feet, and Chalice yells in frustration, the sound gripping his mind like a vice. There''s nowhere else to go. It''s the last platform. Night spins around as the spear reaches his face and- "Tarry a little." It''s Chalice''s turn to spin around as Lirous held the spear shaft, which was less than an inch from Night''s face. "He made it to the final platform fair and square," He sighs, like it was the fifth time that week. "If you want to kill him, you''ll have to wait for the duels." "And if I don''t?" She snarled, pushing the spear closer to him. "Then your father will have something to say for that." Lirous drawled. The girl tremored with rage, a strange expression crossing her face, before pulling away, walking back to the edge. "Fine. I''ll find my own time, then." "Good." Lirous disappeared, leaving them alone. For a second, the cave was near-silent. Chalice slanted her head at Night. "I''ll kill you. One way or another." One of the other candidates brandishing a longsword jumped onto the platform. Chalice spun and slammed the side of her spear into the poor kid''s shoulder, sending them veering off the edge, walking away calmly, her voice trailing behind her. "One way or another." 11: BAD THINGS ABOUT HEAVEN "Void user. As expected. Don''t you know what this means? The first Void user in over five-hundred years, here, in our academy." "..." "I expect you will give him the support that he needs. Keep him out of any major alliances, though I predict you won''t have any problems with that. You will have your chance to test him during the Duels." "...Yes, any degree of force will be allowed." As the Demi-Plane generator powered down, Night could see only see ninety of the original kids left from the start. But the landscape had changed nevetheless. The white and yellow halls were so large Night thought he could have fit his house in it. Maybe 3 of them. The marble columns were lit with those white orbs he had seen floating about in the magic-shops - Not that he had ever dared to go into one before. The ceiling was too high to make out, even higher than that of the makeshift hospital. Art jabbed Night in the stomach. "...We made it?" "I guess. Holy crap, this place is-" "Notale?" Night had barely walked five steps into the place when one of the guards approached him. "Lirous wants to see you," the man said in a monotone voice. A series of ''oohs'' went up from the crowd. "That was fast, wasn''t it, Void user?" Chalice jeered. "Not as fast as your dad when he went out to buy the milk," Night shot back. Art lingered behind him. "...You do know she can beat you up, right?" "But there has to be a few rules about that, right?" Night took an involuntary step back. "You can''t let kids go around-" "Yeah, there are." Art hissed. "But her dad owns this place." "Oh-" That. How could I forget? Chalice moved forward, walking down the hall. Crap, crap, crap- Night withdrew, following the guard faster than he was called. The guard guided Night to one of his offices. Their walk was ghost quiet, save the thumps of leather boots on marble floors and the distant chatter of people. Night had been led away from the main crowd by this random man. He couldn''t get a good look at the guard from the back, but he could see a few things. Shining silver armour, an old, probably never used, longsword at his belt. A pouch, too, with- Night tore his sight away as the man''s shape seemed to have a hole in it, before returning to normal. Screw that. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Notale?" The man''s gaze almost pierced the veil of Night''s thoughts. Looking down, he realised he had stopped. He nodded, faked a grim smile, and resumed his walk. Stopping at one of the carved ironwood doors, the guard turned and opened it. The small sign on it, in white and black marble, read: ''A45''. Opening it, the man stood by and indicated at the entrance. "Notale." Night glanced at the door, then back at the guard, then back at the door, before stepping inside. The room''s interior looked almost identical to the white halls on the outside. There was a desk at the back of the same white marble as the walls, one empty chair behind it, two empty chairs in front of it. There were no windows. The entire space was lighted with half a dozen orbs of white floating idly next to the ceiling. The only source of darkness was a black painting hung left of him, depicting a black throne within some black cathedral. "Night?" Lirous was sitting on the chair, fingers laced together. But... "Why don''t you take a seat?" Lirous smiled. "We have quite a bit to talk about." The whiteness of the room was starting to get to Night. The halls were white and windowless, and so was this room. Like some sort of insane asylum. Bet they underpay their janitors. "Yeah. So, I just wanted to ask, are all the halls here white? Or is it just-" Lirous shook his head. "Hah, no! This is just the Administrative Quadrant. The other areas are of... Different colours," He said in a measured tone. Unnerving measured tone. "Why, is your magic type displaying a bad reaction to it?" That. "No, I''m fine, thanks." Night looked around the room again. Nothing but white. "So what did you want to talk to me about...?" Lirous leaned forward. "We understand you have gone through some things, Night. That was one of the reasons why we brought you here..." Bullshit. "...But we should also let you know you have a target on your back." Night blinked. "What?" "You are the first Void user to enter this academy in over... Well, ever, actually." The old man pondered. "The last one didn''t go to an academy. Do you know why?" Oh yeah. Shoot. "Yes, I heard-" "The first Villain to ever reach a noticeable level of power was a Void user," Lirous said. "The Kingdom''s scribes call him-" "The Traitor Almighty, I know." Night finished. "But..." Lirous gave him such a look of pure annoyance and condescension that Night slumped in his seat. I''ll shut up. Taking a breath, Lirous continued. "Before that, no Void users were ever recorded. And after that, all Void users became Villains, in one way or another." Night shoved his hands in his pockets. The urge to tear his hair out was getting stronger with every syllable that man said. "Look, I know this may seem strange, but what if I''m not a Void user? Maybe I''m a, I don''t know, Ink-" "Inks can''t teleport," retorted Lirous. "And that''s the magic type of the rich kids. You don''t consider yourself one of them, right?" He raised an eyebrow. Bastard. "How do you know I''m not something else?" Night asked. "When you cast your little teleport - terribly inefficient execution, by the way," Lirous shuffled some papers, "Our magic detectors picked up the type immediately." Night shrugged. "What if you''re wrong?" Night thought the previous stare was terrible. This glare proved him wrong. "You think I''m wrong?" The white-robed man drawled. "...No." Suddenly the room wasn''t looking so bright anymore. Lirous sighed. "Good. You''ll be the first Void user to train to become a Hero." The unnerving smile returned. "Don''t you know how famous you will be?" "...That''s not really what I''m interested in, but," Night glanced around. Can I say no? "Okay." Lirous stood up. "That''s settled, then. You can join the rest on the orientation. You wouldn''t have missed much, maybe just the canteen and a few classrooms." He waved his hand, and the door opened by itself. "Okay." Night stood up and moved to the doorpost. So that''s it? But- "Oh, yes." Lirous was now standing directly behind him, when Night was sure he hadn''t heard a noise from him. "Please get a new pair of boots. We can''t have you spreading soot all over our corridors." Night looked down. Black footprints were left stuck on the floor where he had walked. "Sure, but, um, I don''t have any-" "We''ll pay for it." Lirous muttered with a tone of dislike. "Janitors are too expensive." 12: HISTORY CLASS... MOSTLY "Welcome to your first Yesteryear class," Professor Marden said from the small plateau at the front of the lecture room, a clockwork watch hung on a necklace around his neck, matching the bronze glasses perfectly. Has to be a Time user. There were twenty of them kids, filling all the tall wooden stools around the large round tables. It was a mile away from the marble tables of the Magic Hall, which was just as large, if not larger, than the entrance hall. Sitting out sucked. "While it is true that Heroes need to have a strong grasp on magic, knowing who and what came before is just as important. Being able to kill Villains is useless if you can''t prevent past events from happening again," He continued, walking in circles on the plateau, slowly stopping before the twenty-foot tall map of the Kingdom. "You have no purpose on the frontlines if you don''t know how to tell one type of attack from the other, or what magic type an enemy is using." The great sword hung on the wall glimmered in the light of the white orbs. "When are we going to get to the interesting part?" Whispered Art, kicking his legs about. "You mean combat?" Night muttered back. "That''s tomorrow. But I''m get my ass beaten there. At least this is pretty eas-" Someone stamped their foot down. "You boys at the back, are you paying attention?" The Professor shrewd his eyes in their direction, twirling his strange stick in his fingers. "Yes, sir." Night coughed. Professor Marden turned back around. "Well, let''s get to the basics. Who of you here has heard of the Light-Elementalist War?" About five hands went up, Night''s included. "...Not a lot of you, I see." He took his time, glancing at every student who didn''t raise their hand. "Who knows how the war started?" One hand. Shit. "Void- Night, would you like to have a go?" Professor Marden tilted his head. Night shot a look around before coughing again. These kids are dumber than I thought. "Yes, the Kingdom of Light''s economy was struggling at the time, and they felt that they had a claim on land which was occupied by the Elementalist Coalition. After the latter party disagreed, the Kingdom marched a army-" "Incorrect." Professor Marden looked to a different part of the class. "Anyone else?" Someone else rose their hand. Chalice. She glared at Night the entire time she was speaking. "The Elementalist Coalition attacked a Kingdom Outpost near the outskirts of land, with no apparent reason. The Kingdom retaliated and war broke out." She smirked at him. Professor Marden nodded his head. "Very good, Chalice." He turned back to the map. "Seeing that most of you don''t know..." "What...?" Night hissed. "What the actual heck? That is not right!" "...But-" Art glanced around, before hissing back. "The teacher literally said it was!" "No apparent reason my ass." Night shook his head. "All the books I''ve read say the same thing. The Kingdom attacked first." "How many books have you... Read?" Art paused as their teacher''s gaze skirted over them. "I think-" "More than enough." Night replied. "...And it was only an alliance made with the Time users to the East that enabled us to force the Elementalists to capitulate." Professor Marden went to the board and pulled her hands apart, summoning more orbs of light to illuminate the map. "But that''s irrelevant. That question was just to get a grasp of your current understanding." His gaze swept around the room, before resting on Night, before it shifted again. "Let''s look at something more important." He swished his stick in the air, as if he was drawing a picture. A few murmurs swept through the class as the map''s ink seemed to swim, before resting in a new configuration. Art''s eyes lighted up a little. "So he''s a Ink user?" "No, there''s a Ink-type manipulator at the bottom of the map." Night pointed to the bottom. "See?" The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Night knew living things weren''t the only beings that could be imbued with magic. A few years ago, artificers figured out how to channel different magic types in specialised devices. "Moving on." Their teacher waved his hand, and a few of the lights moved away. "Our first topic shall be on the History of-" Knock, knock, knock. The noise reverberated through the room. "The History of the Kingdom." Professor Marden pretended he didn''t hear anything. "Indeed, the Kingdom-" Knock, knock, knock. A few chuckles swept through the students. "The Kingdom has been around for many a millenia, and it''s history-" Knock, knock, knock. "Sir," John raised his hand, "I think someone''s at the door." "John F Johnson, can you stop banging the table?" Professor Marden''s face was edging on red. "You think I am not aware of your shenanigans?" The chuckles turned into a wave of laughter, only stopped when Professor Marden raised his hand. "Let''s get back on topic. I don''t wish to hand out warning in your first lesson." The class silenced itself, and their teacher turned back around. "So." He cleared his throat, watching everyone pull their pens out. "Let''s discuss the Kingdom''s history. Although the exact date the Kingdom was founded is unknown, our scholars, using a wide variety of sources, have determined that it was formed over five-thousand years ago. Indeed, the Kingdom''s history is-" "Sir, my pen exploded!" Professor Marden turned to see John''s desk covered in ink, John himself holding his notebook like a plate to make sure the excess didn''t roll off and splatter the floor. Everyone was grinning widely, Night and Art included. "John," Their teacher demanded, "How on Earth did your pen explode?" "I don''t know, sir!" John was grinning wickedly. "But-" Professor Marden furrowed his brow as he glared into John''s soul. "Do you need tissue to clean it up?" John plonked his book down flat on the table, allowing the ink to flow off the edges of the table and mess the wooden floor. "No, sir," John rummaged through his bag, "I got some water, sir!" "...Fine then," Professor Marden turned back to the board. "So, where was I..." Pulling out a water bottle, John tried to carefully pour a little bit of the water onto the messed up area. But soon after he did so, he realised he needed something. "The Kingdom''s history is, I will admit, long and tedious, but it is a topic you must study nonetheless. To put it bluntly-" "Sir?" John asked quietly, interrupting the monologue. Professor Marden was flame-red at that point. "Yes, John?" "Can I use your roll of tissues?" John asked carefully. The ink-water mixture was beginning to get out of hand and seep into the wooden floor. "Yes, John." Professor Marden almost spat. Shaking his head, he turned back to the board, before deciding it too dangerous to look away, and faced the class. "To put it bluntly, the Kingdom''s origins are something to be proud of. Our sources indicate that the Kingdom first emerged as a stronghold taken by our then-tribes people, held by an evil group whose name is lost to history. Eventually, a town developed..." Professor Marden batted an eye to the side. "All of it?!" John had to hold the large roll of tissues in two hands. "I don''t know how much I''ll need, sir!" Professor Marden stopped for a few tense moments before turning back to the board. "Eventually, a town developed-" "So that''s an okay, sir?" "Yes!" "Cheers." John waddled back to his table and, unwinding a comical amount of tissue from the roll, began to clean up. Professor Marden sighed. "Eventually... Where was I?" Night sat up, one hand raised, the other covering his mouth. "Something about a town, sir." "Oh yes. Anyway, a town slowly developed around the outskirts of this stronghold. Buildings were developed, primarily consisting of simple wooden structures, which, while functional, lacked any remarkable architectural features. They were nothing like the buildings of ours today, obviously. At this time, the main items of trade were grains and textiles-" The familiar voice rang out once more. "Sir, I''m bleeding!" Professor Marden whirled around to see blood splattered on the desk, mixing with the ink and water into a muddy-black-red colour on the table. "John, how the hell are you bleeding?" He was red before, but now he was purple. At this rate he''s going to faint. "Sir, I think it''s bloody hell," Commented Night, adding fuel to the flames. The class burst laughing like a shotgun. "CLASS!" Professor Marden stamped the floor, dirty looks shooting this way and that. "John, is that a papercut?" The criminal glanced up. "No sir, it''s just a nosebleed. But I think- Ah! Papercut!" The laughter resumed. Professor Marden wasn''t impressed. "Do you need a minute outside?" He pulled his hands away from each other, and the door magically opened itself. John stood up. "No sir," He said through strangled laughter, "I''m fine." He pushed the wet tissues to the side and grabbed a few more. Professor Marden arched a brow at John, before turning back to the board. "I think the best way to approach this course would be to ask you more questions. So, who knows-" "Hey! Chat!" John kicked himself off the chair. "GIVE ME MY BOTTLE BACK!" The boy beside him, who Night remembered as the one who had been tagging along before the demi-plane debacle, held the iron flask to the side. John retaliated by picking up one of the water-ink-blood soaked tissues and threw it at the boy. "THAT IS ENOUGH!" Professor Marden bellowed, extinguising the laughter rocking the classroom. "John, go sit over there," He said, pointing with his stick to the corner. "But-" "Go!" The stick seemed to get sharper, but it was probably Night''s imagination. Dejectly, John slinked to the other corner of the class, along with his soaked notebook, wet tissues, and, after some grabbing, his water bottle. The smile was reduced to a small corner of his face. "Good." Professor Marden turned around, hopefully for the last time. "Now, who knows when the first Light Master came to power? This is a base question, so I expect-" Knock, knock, knock. His little stick snapped.