“Snakes?” Mel said, voice shaky in the dark. “You can’t be serious.”

  Luna spoke up. “Don’t panic!” she shouted to the class. “They won’t lash out right away if you don’t give them a reason.”

  “What do you mean don’t give them a reason, Lu!” Sora whispered, her voice trembling. I felt a quivering hand grab my sleeve and instantly knew it was the frightened girl.

  “This place is so dark I can’t see my own hands. I KNEW I should have installed a crystal lamp in my arm. Damn it, I’ll have to add that later . . .” Silas mumbled somewhere behind me.

  A scream shot out. “Ahh—!” The voice was one of our other classmates, somewhere off to my left. “Shit!” she cried out. The girl must have been bitten by the snake. I heard some moaning and then a body slump to the floor.

  My nerves crackled like electricity in my shoulders. Everything in me wanted to see, but I couldn’t—my eyes might as well have been closed.

  ‘We have to do something, right?! Can’t we use our twin soul stuff to see?’ Fern’s voice burst through my mind, anxious.

  I’m trying, but it’s too dark! I reached out, hoping to find someone, but only swiped empty air.

  Mel hissed angrily, “Everybody, group up! Like when the Guardian came but this time without sight. We’ll do better if we’re back-to-back.”

  Scraping footsteps told me the others moved, following her orders. I shuffled toward the sound of others, but an ominous hiss somewhere near my ankles made me jump.

  Silas made a frantic noise next to me. “I . . . I stepped on something. This isn’t a joke. Teacher, or whoever you are—call this off! What if we get hurt?”

  No reply from the hidden professor. Another hiss at my feet caused me to slide backward.

  ‘We can’t just flail around. We’ll injure each other.’ Fern cut through my panic.

  I took a deep breath, getting myself under control.

  Then we use our other senses, I said to him. We rely on hearing. Listen out with me, try to hear or feel vibrations of the snakes if you can.

  Sora let out a short shriek again. “Ow! It’s on me, Lu! It’s on me! Ow!” A slumping sound confirmed that Sora had been bitten. I prayed that whatever toxin the snakes had was curable. The faster we completed this “quiz,” the faster we would help our classmates.

  A hollow scrape echoed as Mel kicked at the floor, cursing in her usual colorful way. She continued to stomp around in the dark.

  “Die! Die, die, die!”

  Meanwhile, a slithering hiss grew near my own position. Cold dread trickled down my spine. Another hiss from behind me, and I spun around, arms half raised. But the blackness was absolute. My vision was worthless.

  Tevin let out a startled shout somewhere in front. “Ow! Oh no . . . Guys, I got—” He must have been bitten, because the next thing I heard was a heavy thud, followed by another classmate’s curse.

  “Damn! Who the hell is lying down? Get the he—” Another thud. More and more of our classmates were getting bitten and passing out.

  ‘We can’t rely on sight. Clear your head, remember how we used synergy in the fights!’ Fern insisted.

  The synergy. I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to slow my pulse.

  In . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five, I counted as I breathed in for five seconds and out for ten. If I focused on slowing down my heart rate, I was able to activate the synergy Fern and I had discovered. We had double the strength and speed of a normal voidblood, and both Fern and I had wondered if that extended to heightened senses. So it was the perfect testing ground.

  I closed my eyes, continued my breathwork, and listened. And then, in the darkness, behind my eyes, colors came alive, and our theory proved to be true.

  “Hisssss!”

  “Hiss . . . hisssss . . . hiss.”

  The hidden voice wasn’t lying. They had let out seven snakes. Behind my eyes I saw seven distinct colorful shapes that morphed about like small strings. Beyond them I saw larger blobs, about fifteen all scattered about in front of me. My classmates.

  I could see without sight.

  Through the layered hisses and scraping of scales on stone, I could see where every snake was and when they were about to strike.

  ‘There!’ Fern shouted to me.

  A snake was coiling just inches from my foot, preparing to strike.

  I snapped into motion. My arm shot down, fingers snaring its thick body just before it lunged. The moment my grip tightened, the snake whipped violently, hissing furiously as it thrashed.

  “Got one!” I shouted.

  Then—Luna’s voice. Steady. Calm. Almost expectant.

  “Do what Erik is doing!”

  “How in the hell would we know what he is doing?” Mel shouted back.

  “Use your hearing, try to sense when the snakes are close,” Luna said, ignoring Mel’s comment.

  Mel sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re actually using your hearing to grab these things, mosshead?”

  “Uh, well you see . . .” I struggled to explain how I could sense them while I wrestled with the snake in my grip. “Look, just try and listen for them, they hiss loudly before they strike. I caught one that way,” I lied.

  I barely finished talking before I saw a shape move ahead of me. Luna. Something felt wrong the moment she spoke up. The girl’s shape darted on the ground, snatching up snakes one by one, almost like she could see them even more clearly than I could.

  “Got four of them, Erik has one. There’s two left. Look out, everyone. Pay attention and remember to listen.” Her breathing was even, steady. Not shaken like when she first joined us at the dining table months back.

  She wasn’t scared. She acted like she had expected this.

  Luna’s shape ran over to the side of the room and dropped the snakes into some sort of box.

  “Mel, Silas—below you!” she shouted.

  The two orbs of movement that I saw behind my eyelids, Mel and Silas, shot down fast and snatched the serpents before either could strike them.

  Silas started laughing. “I think—I think I got one? How in the hell did I do that? How did YOU see that, Luna?”

  “I just heard it, you got lucky.”

  Mel grunted, “I didn’t hear any sound . . .”

  Then—light flooded the room.

  I staggered back, blinking furiously against the sudden brightness. My eyes burned from the shift.

  When my vision adjusted, I saw him.

  A tall, half-snake beastman stood atop a raised floor at the front of the classroom. His long, scaled neck craned and curled as he surveyed us with yellow-slitted eyes. The black-and-red uniform marked him as an academy officer and professor. The swirling tribal tattoos along his arms suggested something deeper.

  Hissing softly, he spread his arms.

  “Consssider yourssselves . . . tested.”

  My stomach clenched as I scanned the room.

  Tevin and Sora were still collapsed, chests rising and falling. Several others weren’t awake either.

  Mel was standing, breathing hard, one hand balled into a fist and the other holding a wiggling snake. Silas stood next to her holding his mechanical arm as far away as he could from him, also holding a snake.

  And Luna stood calmly, arms folded, watching the professor with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

  “What kind of sick teacher hurls deadly snakes at students!” Mel spat, stepping forward. “Call the nurse, they are dying!”

  The snake-man let out a slow, sibilant chuckle. “Sssuch dramatics. You sssurvived and they will too. My babiesss are not poisonousss. The toxin causesss only ssslight paralysisss. They will be up and about in a moment. And now you all have learned a valuable lesson: Don’t rely on your one sssense, be calm in timesss of chaosss, fear isss your downfall.”

  A sharp whistle escaped his lips.

  The snakes—each one not in the box Luna had put some in—twitched and wiggled out of our hands. They slithered over into the box, and the hissing stopped.

  “My name is Professsor Sssrilick. Only four of you passed today’sss quiz,” the snake-man said, eyeing me, Luna, Mel, and Silas. “The others . . . failed.”

  Silas gave me an excited thumbs-up, and Mel smirked before turning away from us.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Luna was unaffected though. She stared right back at the professor, her face blank.

  I had never felt more confused about her than that moment.

  The rest of Stealth and Survival blurred into a haze of exhaustion. Major Srilick droned on about silent movement, scent masking, edible leaves, and tracking footprints. But none of us could focus—our heads still spun from the snake test.

  We stumbled into the hallway, haunted by the lingering hisses in our ears.

  Mel rubbed her temple. “Ugh, how is it only eleven a.m.? I’m ready for bed.”

  Silas forced a chuckle. “At least no one got eaten. That’s . . . something?”

  Sora groaned, still leaning against Luna. “Yeah, real improvement,” she muttered. “My leg still feels like it’s full of ice.”

  “Nice going with the callouts, Luna, where’d you learn that stuff?”

  Luna avoided looking at me. “Back in my village there are a lot of caves we played in as kids. Sometimes you had to find your way in the dark. I got used to it.”

  “Wow, so cool!” Sora said, looking up at Luna admiringly. Sora had developed a sisterly bond to Luna in place of her sister since Rinka was in House Enlil. Luna didn’t seem to mind it though and quite enjoyed being the “older sister.”

  When we got to our next class, Alchemy and Runic Applications, we were greeted with no professor, no lesson—just a note:

  Practice writing the thirty-six ancient runes and their definitions one hundred times over.

  Mel nearly punched the chalkboard. “We’re gonna die before we even learn anything useful.”

  We scrawled mindlessly over the next hour. Sora sat on the floor, still weak. Silas studied the symbols, muttering about writing them onto a note and stuffing them into his arm later. Luna’s writing was precise and deliberate. Tevin, still stiff from the snakebite, dozed off until Mel jabbed him in the ribs.

  Lunch was a blessing. We collapsed at a table, dozing off instead of speaking. Upperclassmen barely glanced at us. They were used to recruits looking half dead in the first days of fall semester, it seemed. By the time the bell woke us, forcing us back to class, it felt like no time had passed at all.

  Beast Mastery was a bright spot of the day. We sprinted outside to a fenced training yard, where Al and the titan-beetles, Goro and Gora, were waiting.

  Tevin perked up instantly. His energy returned the moment the short, round head beast master, Professor Herman, started talking about raising titan animals from birth. Once he got into the biology of how titan creatures came to be though, we struggled to stay awake.

  History and Strategy followed, and the professor there, Professor Gallon, was an absolute train wreck. The frazzled woman rambled about the academy’s leadership, the headmaster’s “mysterious ancestry,” and at one point started theorizing about royal conspiracies. She sounded more like a whack job than a professor on history. Luckily, I still had the library to look forward to.

  The professor droned on so long that Sora nodded off, and Mel ended up drawing a battle scene. Even Luna’s brow furrowed in frustration as her notes stopped making sense.

  Our final class, Artifact Engineering, was taught by a quiet, gray-haired man named Mr. Twinges. He barely looked up from his desk after he dumped a box of strange mechanical parts onto our desks.

  “These are old grapple gauntlets. You’ll be usin’ ’em to climb the tower soon. For now, take them apart and clean out the pillardust that’s accumulated in them. Collect the dust and put it in the bin at the end of each of your tables,” he said before he returned to his desk and began fiddling with a bunch of fabric.

  Silas’s eyes gleamed with excitement as he grabbed the gear-laden box of wires and scres. Tevin picked up the gauntlet and tilted it over, and a bunch of white powder fell out onto the table.

  “Woops,” Tevin said.

  “Pick it up,” the professor mumbled without looking up from his desk.

  Sora, struggling to stay awake, fumbled with a screwdriver and hardly touched the piece of equipment in front of her. Luna, on the other hand, examined her gauntlet with extreme detail. She made extra care to scoop all the pillardust into one fine pile.

  I was ecstatic to be fidgeting with new, fantasy tech, but once I got the contraption open, I was hit with a bunch of random gears and coils. Hardly anything was “fantasy” about it. If I had been an engineer back on Earth, maybe I would have been more excited, but the only thing that was semi-interesting to me was a small, opaque yellow crystal that was fit into place by twisted copper wire. I pulled the crystal free and played around with it instead of working on the gauntlet. I kept telling myself to start doing what the professor asked, but my thoughts kept drifting to one thing.

  The library. Tonight.

  Silas and Tevin were out cold the moment we hit our dorm room beds. I turned off the small crystal lamp and waited until I was sure both were deep asleep. I didn’t want to tell them not to follow if they saw me leaving. I didn’t want questions about what I wanted to look up.

  ‘Are you seriously sneaking out?’ Fern sighed.

  If we wait, we might lose our only chance to freely explore. We were so busy in the summer; I am worried we will be in the fall too, and I feel like we have made little to no progress, I thought back to him.

  Carefully, I slipped out of the dorm, pulling a loose robe over my uniform.

  Once inside the academy, I noticed that the halls were mostly empty—just a few seniors and cleaning staff moved about. It didn’t seem against the rules to be out, but it wasn’t normal either. I navigated carefully, retracing the steps I took when Laska pulled me through the academy.

  At last, I reached the Grand Library.

  A handful of students studied outside on benches and small cushions, heads bent over books. Nobody looked up as I slipped inside.

  The moment I stepped in and the door closed behind me, I was embraced in the familiar silence of the library. The feeling of being in that space transcended worlds. It felt . . . familiar there.

  The vast space was a dream of any bibliophile. Shelves stretched up toward the vaulted ceiling, packed tight with books of every shape and size. The cathedral of knowledge went far in almost every direction.

  “Good evening, young man,” a soft voice greeted me.

  I turned to see a stout woman seated behind a large, dark wooden desk. She peered over her glasses at me. Her hair was a cloud of brown curls framing a face lined with age. Her eyes inspected me with a mischievous light.

  “Welcome to the library, first-year. I am Mrs. Brindle. How may I assist you?” She smiled gently at me.

  “How did you know I was a first-year?” I said, louder than expected. My excitement got the better of me, and my face flushed.

  Mrs. Brindle’s eyes widened slightly, and she raised a finger to her lips. “Young man, the books prefer a quieter tone.”

  “Sorry, how did you know?” I whispered, leaning closer.

  “You’ve got the youthful look of a student who hasn’t been through a full year here.” She winked. “Now, what kind of knowledge do you seek?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” I whispered. “Any suggestions?” I didn’t want to seem too eager to investigate anything related to twin souls since it was deemed taboo.

  She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Well, we have an excellent section on ancient runes and their uses. Very popular with the alchemy students. Or perhaps the histories of Stylos would pique your interest? Full of intrigue and mystery and covered up truths, hidden by the royal family.”

  “Those both sound amazing,” I replied, feeling a surge of excitement. “I think I’ll start with the runes.”

  “A fine choice.” She nodded approvingly. “You’ll find them in the east wing. Treat my books kindly, you hear?”

  “Of course, Mrs. Brindle,” I said. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind when I grab one.”

  “Off you go, then.” She waved me away with a chuckle. “And remember, silence is golden.”

  ‘Runic studies books?’ Fern asked.

  Well, Professor Pestil is the head of that department. He was the only one able to dive deeper into our situation. Maybe some of those books can give us more information, I said.

  As I ventured deeper into the library, the ambient sounds of rustling pages and whispered discussions enveloped me. Upperclassmen hung around study tables while others looked for books on shelves. Some were chatting slightly above Mrs. Brindle’s level of acceptable noise. Private rooms lined the corridors, their doors ajar just enough to glimpse scholars and students hunched over ancient tomes and large sheets of paper.

  In one room, I caught sight of a giant furry creature, its back turned to me. It was hunched over a desk, delicately writing with a quill that looked tiny in its massive hand. Its head turned, and its large, expressive eyes met mine. The creature’s face was a blend of ape and human features, with soft brown fur and a gentle expression. Before I could react, it pulled a string hanging from the ceiling, and the door closed swiftly.

  Continuing, I navigated the labyrinth of shelves toward the east wing. The air seemed to thicken with the scent of aged parchment and ink. The shelves here were older, the wood had darkened with that aged look, and the books appeared more fragile.

  As I ran my fingers along the spines, titles in languages neither Fern nor I could recognize passed beneath my touch. Eventually, I selected a tome titled The Fundamentals of Ancient Runes and carefully pulled it from the shelf. The cover was bound in worn leather, etched with symbols painted in deep reflective silver. Finding a secluded reading nook nestled between towering shelves, I settled in and opened the book. A pink crystal lamp that hung above me turned on when I sat down on the cushioned seat.

  The pages were filled with intricate diagrams and symbols, accompanied by explanations in fine script. As I delved into the first chapter, the Greek words that Pestil said while I was in his lab were written here again.

  Al?theia . . . Psych? . . . Tópos . . . Chrónos. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. Why was a language from Earth here in this world? I found a piece of paper in my pocket along with a small pen and wrote down a note to investigate it further later on.

  ‘Why obsess about this?’ Fern asked.

  It’s odd. More than odd, it’s downright strange. There had to be a traveler before me from Earth. They must have left their mark on this world. I can’t think of any other explanation. Are there any stories you were told about a man who came from another world? I asked.

  ‘Not that I know of,’ Fern said.

  I scratched my face in confusion and quickly added to my note to investigate the ancient history of Stylos and religions.

  Time seemed to blur as I absorbed the information, page after page revealing the complexities of rune applications and their historical significance. The runes weren’t just symbols; they were conduits for energy, ways to tap into the very fabric of reality. But something had to be done to the runes or they had to be made of something special. It had to do with the pillar. I was sure of it.

  Lost in my studies, a faint sound caught my attention. Voices—hushed but urgent—echoed from a nearby aisle. I hesitated, torn between minding my own business and satisfying my growing curiosity.

  Quietly closing the book, I returned it to its place on the shelf and crept toward the source of the voices. Peering around the corner of a towering bookshelf, I spotted Professor Pestil standing in a shadowed alcove, conversing with two students. His silver hair glinted under the dim lighting, and his posture was tense.

  “. . . must proceed with utmost caution.” Pestil’s voice was a low murmur, barely audible. “The staff cannot find out. Not even the headmaster. You know who you can only trust, right?”

  One of the students, a lanky boy with a million freckles, nodded vigorously. “But what if someone finds out, Professor?”

  I edged closer, my heart pounding. I knew eavesdropping was risky. This was how every character got caught in the stories. But something about Pestil’s secrecy set off alarm bells. If this was a movie, the audience would peg him as the villain and would be screaming at me to listen in.

  “Leave that to me,” Pestil replied, his tone icy. “Your job is to follow instructions. Ensure the plans are sent to the Fox by the next lunar cycle. No delays.”

  The second student, a girl with sharp eyes and a steely demeanor, spoke up. “And what about the spy?”

  Pestil’s gaze hardened. “I will handle that. We already have our suspicions. Focus on your tasks.”

  The students exchanged a wary glance but nodded in unison. “Yes, Professor.”

  “Now go,” Pestil hissed, his eyes darting around. “We cannot afford any mistakes.”

  As the students turned to leave, I pressed myself against the bookshelf, holding my breath. They passed by without noticing me, their footsteps fading into the labyrinth.

  My mind raced. What was Pestil planning? And who was the test subject?

  ‘We should get out of here,’ Fern urged. ‘Before he notices us.’

  I nodded silently. Pestil remained in the alcove, his back turned as he meticulously rearranged some books on a shelf.

  I needed to leave.

  Before I could sneak away, the book in my hand slipped and toppled to the floor with a resounding thud.

  Pestil’s head snapped up, his sharp gaze zeroing in on my hiding spot. “Who’s there?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the silence.

  Panic surged through me. I held my breath, willing myself to become invisible.

  Slowly, he began to approach, each step deliberate and ominous. “I know someone’s there. Show yourself.”

  ‘Run!’ Fern’s voice was urgent.

  Seeing no other option, I slid down the shelf and bolted, darting down the aisle. The sound of Pestil’s footsteps quickened behind me.

  “Stop at once!” he commanded.

  Ignoring him, I weaved through the maze of shelves, my heart hammering in my chest. The once-welcoming library now felt like a labyrinth designed to trap me.

  I rounded a corner, nearly colliding with Mrs. Brindle.

  “Goodness!” she exclaimed, steadying herself. “What’s the rush, dear?”

  “Sorry,” I panted. “I have to use the bathroom!”

  She frowned and held a finger to her lips. I nodded, moved around her, and opened the large double doors.

  As they closed behind me, I heard Pestil yelling. I sprinted through the lounge outside the library, down the flights of stairs, past the combat classroom, down more stairs, and across the field, sprinting toward House Anu.