I opened my eyes.
At least, I thought I did.
Everything remained pitch-black—not the ordinary darkness of a closed room or a moonless night, but something complete and dense, pressing against my face like a blindfold made from the absence of light itself.
I could not see my hands. I could not even tell whether I was lying down until the ache in my spine informed me that someone had been kind enough to provide a chair.
My mouth tasted like old blood. My head throbbed, and every thought arrived wrapped in wool.
The last thing I remembered was William Al Vermont standing over me as blood and golden feathers drifted through the air.
Then nothing.
My heart began to race.
Where were the ghosts?
Knight? Bloody? Lazy? Sleazy?
I could neither see nor feel them.
That was new—and terrifying.
Apparently, when I lost consciousness, they did too.
Wonderful. Even my hallucinations had a sleeping schedule.
Before panic could properly settle in, a voice came from directly ahead.
"Oh, good. You're awake."
A light flared above me.
I immediately wished it had not.
The pale orb cast a narrow circle of cold white light across the room, revealing figures seated upon raised platforms to my left, right, and directly ahead. Their robes, medals, and departmental crests were unmistakable.
The senior staff of Valthrune Academy.
Professors. Administrators.
Shit.
Above them sat the three Grand Professors, heads of Valthrune's Studies, Support, and Combat Towers. Each was tier seven or higher. I knew without being told; their mana filled the chamber like weather.
The Grand Professor of Studies sat to my left, broad-shouldered and motionless, both hands resting atop a heavy cane. Even seated, he looked large enough to block a doorway. The pressure around him was deep and heavy, like thunder buried beneath the earth.
To my right sat the Grand Professor of Support. Her robes were pale and layered, silver markings winding along their sleeves. Her expression was almost gentle.
Of everyone present, she was the only one who looked as though she might offer me water before executing me.
Beside William sat the Grand Professor of Combat.
A woman.
Her dark hair had been arranged without a strand out of place. Her severe uniform carried enough medals to make William's collection look modest. A black blindfold covered her eyes, and two horns curved from her head like a demon's crown.
She wore a pleasant smile.
Something about it tightened the back of my neck.
William Al Vermont stood at the centre of the platform, adjusting his cuffs.
"Welcome, Student Kamrik, to your preliminary academy tribunal."
His smile remained polished.
"This is not a criminal trial. No sentence will be passed tonight. We are here to determine what occurred during the excursion, who bears responsibility, who will retain custody of you, and what account Valthrune will present to the Strega family."
Custody?
I tried to move and only then noticed the glowing bands of condensed mana wrapped across my chest, wrists, waist, and ankles.
William glanced down at them.
"I understand the circumstances may be confusing. Especially with you being tied up and all."
Huh.
Now that he mentioned it, I was tied up.
I tested my arms.
The restraints tightened at once, sending a warning pulse through my muscles.
I stopped.
I was naked from the waist up, though they had thankfully provided pants.
Possibly underwear too.
I could not remember putting any on, and I was not brave enough to investigate in front of the entire faculty.
Thin red Bloodrend markings crawled across my arms, chest, shoulders, and neck. They had faded since the battle, but everyone could still see them.
I swallowed.
"Why am I here, sir?"
William exhaled through his nose and pinched the bridge of it.
"Why are you here, Kamrik?"
His smile vanished.
"You have placed this academy in a very difficult position."
Cold sweat slid down my face.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you know how long it has been since Valthrune experienced an incident of this magnitude?"
I stayed silent.
"Sixty-eight years."
No one moved.
"It has been sixty-eight years since an academy incident produced comparable casualties, political exposure, and institutional failure."
Casualties.
Plural.
My stomach tightened.
William paced across the platform.
"Twenty-seven students were sent to the Western Branch under academy supervision. Twenty-five returned within the expected period. Two were carried beyond the approved observation boundary by tier-three griffins."
He stopped in front of me.
"One returned alive. One did not return at all."
Carlos.
My throat closed.
"Student Carlos Strega is listed as missing and presumed dead."
They had not found his body.
Of course they had not. He had fallen through the clouds toward mountains that looked small from the branch.
William continued before I could become trapped in the memory.
"Recovery teams have searched the lower Western Range since yesterday. The terrain beneath that portion of the branch is unstable, and neither Student Strega nor sufficient remains to determine where he landed have been recovered."
The Grand Professor of Support spoke softly.
"His family has been informed."
Somewhere, someone had told his sister.
The thought struck harder than it should have.
I saw Carlos sitting beside me beneath the open sky.
My sister was like that too.
My chest tightened so violently that I almost forgot to breathe.
"The Strega family has demanded a complete account," William said, "along with the recovery of their son's remains, an investigation of every staff member involved, and direct access to the surviving student."
Me.
"They have questioned whether Valthrune remains capable of protecting those entrusted to its care. Several other noble families have raised similar concerns."
The Grand Professor of Studies shifted his grip. His cane groaned beneath his hand.
"Studies wishes to know why one of its students was abandoned outside the approved route. Combat wishes to know how multiple tier-three beasts entered the excursion area unnoticed. Support wishes to know how two severely injured students survived five days without rescue."
William's gaze dropped to the markings across my body.
"And everyone wishes to know how a tier-one Studies student returned at tier two with enough overflow to approach tier three."
He gestured toward the chamber.
"That is why we are conducting this tribunal before the Strega family is permitted access to you. If we surrender you for private questioning without first establishing a credible account, we concede that Valthrune cannot investigate its own failures or protect its own students."
His expression hardened.
"This is the academy's last opportunity to prove that it still possesses the prestige it claims."
Shit.
They did not only need the truth.
They needed a version of it that kept the academy alive.
They wanted everything—the griffins, the nest, the branch, Carlos, the fruit, the ghosts and, buried beneath all of it, the murder.
My stomach twisted.
I tried to look around for the ghosts again.
"Do not move your head."
The command came from my left.
The chamber rumbled as the Grand Professor of Studies leaned forward.
"I will ask the first question, and you will not lie."
My mouth dried.
"Where did you and Student Carlos Strega go after the griffins took you?"
I could survive this.
All I had to do was tell the truth.
Mostly.
"Yeah, you're finished, Seer."
My eyes snapped right.
A navy coat faded into existence beside my chair, followed by Sleazy's hands, hair, and abyssal blue eyes.
He blinked at me, the restraints, and the tribunal before grinning.
"Hello, Seer. I do not know how we got here, but it appears we are being interrogated."
Thank the gods.
One of them was awake.
"How long were we unconscious?"
I did not answer.
Obviously.
The entire faculty was staring at me.
Sleazy followed my gaze and nodded thoughtfully.
"Ah. Right. The living cannot hear me. A flaw in the arrangement, but currently one working in our favour."
"Student Kamrik," the Studies Grand Professor warned.
Right.
"The griffins carried us to a nest inside one of the minor branches."
"Location?"
"I don't know. We lost consciousness during the flight."
"What was inside the nest?"
"An egg, vines and bark. Nothing unusual."
"No other creatures?"
"Not while we were awake."
"What did you do next?"
"We climbed down, found a path and followed it."
"For how long?"
"Five days."
The Grand Professor of Support leaned forward.
"You survived five days after suffering a dislocated shoulder, several fractures, severe dehydration and significant blood loss?"
Her tone was gentle.
How did she know about the injuries? Bloodrend had repaired most of them before William found me.
William answered the question I had not asked.
"You were unconscious for eleven hours after your recovery. Support staff stabilized you and documented your condition before this hearing. They stopped the immediate bleeding, but a complete examination has not yet been performed."
That explained some of it.
The way the Support Grand Professor studied me suggested it did not explain all of it.
"Carlos fixed my shoulder," I said.
"And the fractures?" she asked.
"They happened later."
"That was not my question."
Her smile remained warm.
Sleazy leaned close.
"Answer only what they ask. No stories."
No shit.
I would have gotten mad at him, but I was being held at gunpoint.
Figuratively, of course.
With tier-seven professors, the distinction felt unimportant.
"My injuries healed after my Origin Spell awakened."
Several staff members shifted.
The Studies Grand Professor tapped a finger against his cane.
"What is your Origin Spell?"
There it was.
I glanced at the red markings on my arms.
"Bloodrend."
Not entirely true.
Soul Diver was mine. Bloodrend belonged to Bloody.
But Bloodrend was the spell they had seen.
Whispers rippled through the room until the Support Grand Professor raised one hand.
"Bloodrend. A blood-absorption spell?"
"Yes."
"Regenerative?"
"Partially."
"Offensive?"
"Yes."
"Sentient?"
My stomach dropped.
Sleazy's grin disappeared.
How did she know to ask that?
I hesitated, and the restraints tightened.
"Hesitation is often more revealing than an answer," William said.
"Yes," I replied quickly. "It's sentient."
The whispers returned.
The Studies Grand Professor looked toward William.
"A first awakening does not ordinarily produce a mature sentient imprint."
"No," William agreed. "It does not."
Every eye returned to me.
Excellent.
I had survived a tier-three beast only to be murdered by academics.
"What emotional imprint does the spell carry?" the Support Grand Professor asked.
"Excitement."
The restraints remained still.
"Only excitement?"
I remembered Bloodrend singing during the fight—the joy, the hunger, the way I had laughed while ripping apart something that wanted to kill me.
The taste of its blood on the blade.
My stomach churned.
"Bloodlust," I admitted.
Someone behind her began writing rapidly.
"They're building a profile on you," Sleazy said. "Try not to look too murderable."
I kept my face as still as possible.
Sleazy studied me for a moment.
"That is somehow worse. Whatever you do, do not smile. You have a terrible smile."
The Grand Professor of Combat had yet to speak. She simply watched, still smiling.
Sleazy finally turned toward her.
His body went rigid.
The smile vanished from his face.
"No way."
He stared at the horned woman.
"Shit."
Cold crept down my spine.
He examined her face, horns, blindfold and the shape of her body.
"I did not recognize her. She changed her form, but…"
His voice trailed off.
Then he looked at me with sudden urgency.
"Do not look where her eyes should be. Do not react to anything she says, and do not let her know you recognize her."
My gaze almost shifted toward the blindfold.
"Those are not her eyes," Sleazy warned.
What?
The chamber did not react.
The woman's smile remained unchanged, but her attention shifted.
Sleazy noticed.
His breathing turned shallow.
Then she spoke.
"What happened to Carlos Strega?"
Her voice was warm.
Maternal.
Sleazy flinched as though struck.
It was the same voice from his memories—the same tenderness that had taught a child to kill and called it love.
Then I understood.
This was Tias, Grand Professor of the Combat Tower.
She was not asking as an educator.
Carlos had been part of something occurring now.
A trial.
Hunger.
A fruit waiting at the end of it.
But Carlos was gone, and I had returned instead.
Tias did not know why.
That was the problem.
"Carlos fell during the griffin attack," I said.
Silence.
The Support Grand Professor's expression softened.
Tias remained still.
"During the attack," she repeated.
"Yes."
"Was he alive when you reached the end of the branch?"
My pulse jumped. The restraints tightened slightly.
"She knows how to question people without asking the real question," Sleazy muttered.
"Yes."
Tias tilted her head.
"What did you find at the end?"
Shit.
She knew about the tree.
Probably the fruit too.
"A small, withered tree."
"What kind?"
"I don't know."
The restraints did not react.
Technically true.
"Did Carlos perhaps approach it?"
She tapped one finger against the wooden arm of her chair.
I did not know how to escape the question. She knew what was supposed to happen, and the only available answer was the truth.
"Yes."
"Why?"
I hung my head.
"He was starving."
Painfully true.
Tias's finger stopped tapping.
"Was there food on the tree? Something that might tempt a starving boy to move closer?"
Sleazy went pale.
"Perhaps something like a fruit?" she finished.
My mouth dried.
"She knows," Sleazy whispered. "She knows the trial and what was meant to be waiting there. She does not know what happened after."
The Studies Grand Professor turned toward her.
"Fruit?"
Tias chuckled.
"The Western Branch occasionally produces abnormal growths in damaged regions. If the students encountered one, it may explain their decision to approach."
A convenient academic explanation.
But Sleazy looked terrified.
She was not asking about an abnormal growth.
She was asking about the thing intended for Carlos.
"Yes," I said.
For the first time, Tias's smile did not deepen.
It stilled for only a moment, but Sleazy saw it.
"That," he whispered, "was not the answer she wanted."
"What happened to the fruit?" Tias asked.
I remembered it biting into my hand.
"I don't know."
The restraints tightened hard enough to steal my breath.
"I don't know what happened after the attack," I added quickly. "The griffin came. I was trying not to die!"
The pressure eased.
It seemed I had given them enough truth.
Lazy materialized near the floor, floating sideways as though waking upright required too much effort.
He yawned.
"Where are we?"
"Interrogation," Sleazy said.
Lazy inspected the restraints and the symbols beneath my chair.
"The bindings react to major mana movement, aggression and severe stress. They are not direct lie detectors."
Thank the gods.
"Unfortunately, everyone here appears competent."
Less thank the gods.
Tias turned toward William.
"So Student Strega reached the end of the branch alive, approached a withered tree bearing fruit and was then attacked by a griffin."
Her wording made my skin crawl.
She was building a map.
William looked at me.
"Did the griffin kill Carlos Strega?"
My throat closed.
I could still feel Bloodrend piercing his back.
I could still see the betrayal in his eyes.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
Sleazy crouched before me.
"Do not—and I repeat, do not—confess to something they cannot prove."
Lazy watched the restraints.
"You can survive this answer."
Then Knight appeared behind me, one knee striking the floor as though he had been dragged violently into the chamber. Black cracks marred his armour.
He saw the tribunal and my expression.
He understood enough.
"Young man," he said quietly, "do not offer them a lie you cannot live beneath."
Sleazy whirled toward him.
"Are you stupid, old man? Would you prefer an execution?"
"I would prefer he remembers what he is."
"This is survival, not something as fickle as morality!"
"Those are rarely separate."
The Studies Grand Professor slammed his cane against the platform.
The room shook.
"Answer."
I was trembling.
I could say the griffin had killed Carlos and that I had done everything possible to save him.
Would that really be okay?
Could I live under that lie?
Had I not just screamed while an evil god tried to erase me that these were my sins, my failures and my choices?
But would ending everything here be fair to everyone who had placed their faith in me? To the people who would die in the future?
To Carlos?
The answer seemed obvious, yet I still struggled.
Guess I really was a piece of shit.
My fingers curled until my nails cut my palms.
"The griffin attack is why Carlos died."
The chamber went still.
The restraints remained unchanged.
Not a lie.
Not enough truth to condemn me.
"But you were with him," the Support Grand Professor said slowly.
"Yes."
"Tell us what happened."
My chest tightened.
This was the story that would save me—the story I had to build around his corpse.
I hated myself before I began.
"We reached the tree. Carlos moved toward the fruit because we hadn't eaten properly in days."
Tias remained motionless.
"One of the griffins came back."
William's gaze sharpened.
"Which griffin?"
"The one that carried us there, I think. It came down quickly and grabbed Carlos."
My voice began to shake as the scene formed inside my head.
Not what had happened, but what could have happened.
What should have happened.
A version where I had tried.
A version where I might have deserved Carlos's thanks.
"I grabbed him. The griffin had him by the shoulders—or his clothes. I don't know. Everything happened too quickly."
I could almost see Carlos being dragged upward, his hand reaching toward me and my fingers closing around his wrist.
"I held on, but the griffin kept pulling. I was dehydrated, starving and injured. I was hallucinating so badly that I could barely tell what was real."
All true.
Every word.
Just not there.
"Carlos said my name."
My voice cracked.
"I couldn't hear anything else over its wings."
The Support Grand Professor lowered her gaze. Several other professors had gone still.
"I thought it was going to tear him apart."
My vision blurred.
"I couldn't hold him."
The first tear fell before I noticed, followed by another.
"I tried. I really tried."
My shoulders shook, making the restraints tighten briefly before they recognized there was no aggression and loosened again.
"I lost my grip. He fell against the tree, and I fell with him. The griffin landed before I could move."
I could barely breathe.
"It ripped his head off."
A broken sound escaped me—not quite a sob and not quite a scream.
"And then he fell."
My head dropped as the tears continued.
"I caused his death."
The confession left me in a whisper.
The chamber erupted.
Professors spoke over one another, and a chair scraped across stone until William raised his hand. A steady pulse of mana boomed through the chamber, forcing everyone into silence.
"Explain what you mean," the Studies Grand Professor demanded.
The words struck something already broken.
"I wasn't strong enough!"
My voice tore through the room.
"I was right there! I had him in my hands, and I still lost him!"
My breathing came in desperate, uneven gasps.
"I followed him there. I was too weak to pull him back, and I couldn't even tell what was real anymore. I should have done something!"
No one spoke.
"I should have been stronger!"
The final word cracked.
I folded as far forward as the mana restraints allowed, my breathing wet and ugly in the silence.
I did not need to pretend.
That was the worst part.
The details were false.
The guilt was not.
I had held Carlos.
I had let him go.
I had caused his death.
The Support Grand Professor descended from her platform. William did not stop her as she approached and crouched several feet away.
"Kamrik, breathe."
I tried.
It became another sob.
"You were starving, injured and dehydrated. You had spent five days in a hostile environment while experiencing severe hallucinations."
That did not absolve me.
It only made the lie easier for them to believe.
"You were a student," she continued. "Not a trained rescuer or combat specialist."
"I let him die."
"You failed to save him," she corrected gently.
The distinction drove a knife through my chest because she believed she was helping me—and because both statements were true.
The room gave me time.
No one demanded another answer or struck a cane against the floor. They allowed me to fall apart, and with every broken breath, I could feel their suspicion changing shape.
It did not disappear.
It softened.
I was no longer merely the strange survivor with a violent spell.
I was a terrified Studies student who had watched someone die in his hands.
Sleazy stared at me, his usual grin gone.
"You're not acting," he said quietly.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
He was right.
"That is inconveniently convincing," Sleazy murmured.
Knight stood behind me with a heavy expression.
"You did not lie about the part that mattered."
I hated him for saying it.
I hated myself more for needing to hear it.
William waited until my breathing steadied enough for speech.
"What happened after Carlos fell?"
I swallowed.
"The griffin attacked me."
William nodded.
"That aligns with what I detected."
The room shifted.
"When I approached the Western Branch, I felt a significant disturbance in the surrounding mana flow. Two distinct signatures were engaged in prolonged combat."
One of the professors leaned forward.
"You observed the battle?"
"Not visually. I was still crossing the spatial distance, but the fluctuations were unmistakable. One belonged to a tier-three griffin."
"And the other?" the Studies Grand Professor asked.
William looked down at the markings on my skin.
"Student Kamrik."
Whispers spread through the chamber.
Tias rested her chin against one hand as mischief returned to her smile.
"Well," she said lightly, "that is rather fortunate."
The Studies Grand Professor frowned.
"Fortunate?"
"A tier-one student awakens under mortal pressure, draws blood from a tier-three beast and discovers that his Origin Spell can absorb it. An absurd sequence of coincidences."
"I would call it impossible," someone muttered.
"Impossible is such an unfriendly word."
Tias leaned forward.
"The Western Branch is not an ordinary environment. Its minor branches contain mana concentrations far beyond academy conditions. A newly formed absorption spell, a dying body and a constant source of blood would create a violent cycle of consumption and regeneration."
The Support Grand Professor considered it.
"Bloodrend may have absorbed the surrounding mana alongside the griffin's blood."
"And spent it as quickly as it entered him," Tias said. "His body was being damaged and repaired repeatedly. The result would be unstable, but a sudden advancement is possible."
The Studies Grand Professor remained unconvinced.
"It would require extraordinary compatibility."
"Or extraordinary luck."
Tias smiled at me.
"Perhaps the God of Luck took pity on him."
Someone scoffed. Another professor murmured something about the Goddess of Light protecting a student upon her own medium.
Tias allowed the speculation to spread.
She had given them something comfortable: an abnormal awakening, an unlikely affinity, a boy blessed by luck at the edge of death.
Anything except the truth.
William was not watching me.
He was watching Tias.
Only for a moment, but long enough for me to wonder whether I was the only person who thought her explanation had arrived too easily.
"You produced that theory quickly," he said.
Tias's smile did not move.
"The Combat Tower spends much of its time explaining how foolish students survive impossible odds."
A few professors laughed quietly.
William did not.
He held her gaze for another second before turning toward me.
Tias had protected me from further examination—not because she cared, but because she wanted the answer before anyone else found it.
The Studies Grand Professor looked at William.
"Can you confirm he killed the griffin?"
"I arrived immediately after the final strike. The creature had been bisected by a blood-based projection, and Student Kamrik was the only living combatant present."
William exhaled.
"Which gives us an explanation that is both plausible and politically convenient."
The room went cold.
There it was.
The truth behind the tribunal.
Not justice.
Not grief.
Not Carlos.
A report.
A version of events that could survive noble outrage without destroying the academy.
William faced the assembled staff.
"The official preliminary record will state that two students were taken by tier-three griffins during a Western Branch excursion and survived for five days beyond the approved observation boundary."
His voice became formal.
"Upon reaching an outer section of the branch, Student Carlos Strega was seized during a secondary griffin encounter. Student Kamrik attempted to prevent the abduction but, due to exhaustion and injury, lost his grip. The griffin killed Student Strega before engaging Student Kamrik."
My stomach twisted.
They were turning my lie into history.
"Student Kamrik awakened a blood-based Origin Spell under extreme survival pressure. Exposure to unusually dense ambient mana caused an abnormal tier advancement, while Bloodrend's absorption and regenerative functions allowed him to survive and kill the attacking griffin."
I heard Carlos's final breath again.
I'm sorry.
"Vice Headmaster William Al Vermont recovered Student Kamrik and neutralized a second griffin upon arrival. Recovery operations for Student Strega will continue. A formal apology and compensation package will be delivered to the Strega family, excursion protocols will be reviewed, and all staff responsible for the failure in observation and retrieval will undergo investigation."
Every word was polished, official, believable and incomplete.
The Studies Grand Professor looked displeased but did not object. The Support Grand Professor appeared conflicted.
Tias looked satisfied.
That terrified me.
William turned toward me.
"Until this tribunal reconvenes, your status will be restricted."
"Restricted how?"
"You will remain in protective academy custody. You will submit to medical examinations, mana evaluations and interviews concerning your awakening. You will not contact the Strega family or communicate with outside parties about the incident."
"Do I get a choice?"
"No."
Fair enough.
"He should remain under medical supervision," the Support Grand Professor said.
"He is a Studies student," the Studies Grand Professor replied. "My department should retain authority."
His voice lowered.
"He was neglected as a Studies student. Do not use that failure as an excuse to steal him from my tower."
Then Tias stood.
The room changed—not loudly or violently. Everyone simply became aware that the Grand Professor of Combat had moved.
Her mana did not feel like thunder or warmth.
It felt like a blade resting against the throat of the world.
"Student Kamrik is newly awakened," she said. "His Origin Spell is combat-oriented, sentient, and powerful enough to kill a tier-three griffin immediately after manifesting."
Her smile remained kind.
"Academy protocol is quite clear."
The Grand Professor of Studies tightened his grip around his cane.
"He is a Studies student."
"He was," Tias replied softly. "Before he awakened."
The words cut more deeply than they should have.
William raised one hand before the Studies professor could answer.
"Grand Professor Tias is correct. Any student who awakens a combat-oriented Origin Spell must be transferred to the Combat Tower for evaluation, regardless of their previous department."
The markings along my arms pulsed.
Bloodrend disliked the sound of that.
Or liked it.
With Bloodrend, the difference was dangerously small.
The Studies Grand Professor's expression darkened.
"You intend to remove him from my tower because of a single awakening?"
"This is not a departmental decision," William said. "It is established protocol."
Tias rested one hand against the back of her chair.
"The Combat Tower possesses reinforced training grounds and instructors capable of restraining him if Bloodrend overwhelms his judgment."
The Support Grand Professor crossed her arms.
"He still requires medical supervision."
"You will have unrestricted access to him," Tias said. "Daily, if necessary."
"And what exactly does this evaluation involve?" the Studies Grand Professor asked.
William turned toward me.
"All prospective Combat students must complete the Combat Department's entrance trial. Student Kamrik will be placed under the same conditions as every other applicant."
Something in his tone made my stomach tighten.
"What do I have to do?" I asked.
"Reach the end."
That was all he said.
Somehow, that made it worse.
"And if he does not?" the Studies Grand Professor asked.
William's expression remained neutral.
"Then he will not be accepted into the Combat Department."
The room became quiet.
"A student carrying uncontrolled sentient mana cannot return to ordinary academy life," he continued. "Failure would result in imprisonment or compulsory transfer into the Church military."
Tias smiled.
"Then we should all hope he reaches the end."
Bloody began fading into view beside my chair, his floating heart appearing first, followed by the hole in his chest and the rest of him.
He looked at my restraints, then at the tribunal.
"Kill them."
Knight turned toward him.
"We are surrounded by individuals who could erase him before the thought reached his muscles."
Bloody grinned.
"So it would be quick."
Sleazy gestured toward Tias.
"Mother is here."
Bloody looked at her.
His grin faded by half.
"Ah."
That was the closest Bloody had ever come to sounding cautious.
The Studies Grand Professor lowered his cane.
"He was neglected while under the protection of Studies. Now that failure is being used to take him from us."
"No one is taking him," William said. "His awakening changed his classification. The protocol leaves us no discretion."
I laughed once, small and broken.
No one joined me.
William studied Tias for longer than before. His polite expression shifted into something almost like doubt, though it disappeared before I could be certain.
"Until the entrance trial is completed, Student Kamrik will remain in protective custody under the supervision of the Combat Tower."
Sleazy's expression collapsed.
William clasped his hands behind his back.
"Then it is decided."
Apparently, it was.
I had killed Carlos, eaten fate, survived a griffin and awakened in a tribunal only to discover that my reward was another trial.
Reach the end and enter Combat.
Fail and lose my freedom.
"The transfer will begin tomorrow morning," William continued. "Until then, Support will complete its examination and return Student Kamrik to his dormitory under ward. He is not to leave the room without authorization."
Sleazy stared at me.
There was no grin, joke or false warmth left in his expression.
Only fear.
The same fear I had felt inside his childhood memory.
Tias descended from the platform, her boots clicking against the stone until she stopped before me and crouched to bring her covered eyes level with mine.
The blindfold did not make me feel safer.
Up close, her smile looked even kinder.
That made it worse.
"Do not be frightened, Student Kamrik."
Sleazy grabbed my shoulders. His hands passed through me, but the desperation felt real.
"Seer, listen to me."
Tias reached forward and lightly touched one of the Bloodrend markings near my collarbone. The red line pulsed beneath her finger.
"I intend to take very good care of you."
Sleazy's voice broke.
"That woman is my mother."
Tias withdrew her hand and rose.
"Rest tonight. Tomorrow will be demanding."
Then she returned to her platform as though nothing unusual had happened.
The room had heard only the words of a professor addressing the student placed in her custody.
Sleazy and I knew better.
Tias did not know what I was.
Not yet.
But she knew what Carlos had been supposed to become, and now she had me.
I had not escaped the branch.
I had only been transferred to a cleaner cage.