The next three hours of Professor Gallon’s lecture felt like pulling teeth. All of us were anxious about the spy that lurked around the academy. And while I was very interested to see how the whole planet’s magic systems were laid out, I wanted to do something about the immediate threat. Gallon was rushing back and forth in front of us drawing symbols on the long chalkboard like a crazed conspiracy theorist explaining aliens.

  She had written, in big bold letters, The Seven Laws of Magic. Below that were seven different titles that represented the different kinds of magic spread across the planet in their own countries. The supposed legend was some gods wanted to teach the mortals magic, but couldn’t decide on one kind of magic, so to balance it out, they taught seven, one to each continent..

  THE SEVEN LAWS OF MAGIC ON MOURNE

  The Law of the Mind

  The Law of Correspondence

  The Law of Vibration

  The Law of Polarity

  The Law of Rhythm

  The Law of Cause and Effect

  The Law of Gender

  ‘Why is she still going on about this stuff? How is it relevant to us for fighting against an infiltration?’

  Gallon finished a chalkboard drawing and let out a satisfied breath of air.

  “Take good notes. I’m going to leave this up here for now, but it will be gone tomorrow. It’s . . . what, class?” she asked, waving her hands to us.

  “Necessary information,” we all groaned.

  “Good!” Gallon smiled. “Now, remember the biggest weakness for a mageblood, the ones here on Stylos, is their hands. If you can’t go for their hands, go for the head.” She smiled and bowed. I looked around confusedly to see my classmates also confused. Tevin started a slow clap, and we all joined in.

  The faint silhouette of the headmaster appeared outside the door’s small window panel. He didn’t enter, just waved Hopsander over and murmured something to him and Laska, who had joined them in the hallway. Hopsander nodded, and Laska looked excited. The frog-man walked back in after they left and walked up to the front of the class. He cleared his throat softly. “Thank you, Professor Gallon. Listen up, everyone.”

  The bell rang softly, signifying lunch break. Before letting us go, Hopsander continued. “Listen carefully: No wandering alone. Always move with at least one partner. If you see something suspicious—anything—report it to your house leader. The well-being of our academy depends on your vigilance.” He then sauntered over to his desk and sat while we got up. Professor Gallon did another bow to him and then a very serious salute before she marched out of the room. Her two personalities fought for control a lot that day.

  The academy’s training field was washed in a pale, clouded light. The chill air nipped at our exposed skin despite our winter training uniforms. We gathered at the field’s edge of the outside training yard, and each of us was strapped into a weighted forty-pound vest that pressed heavily down on our shoulders. Sora, the smallest of us, looked the most ridiculous. Her silver hair was bunched up and caught on the back of the weighted vest. Luna was laughing and trying to help pull her hair out.

  Hopsander stood in front, his webbed hands clasped behind his back, posture rigid as ever. He scanned our faces, nodding in approval. Beyond him, a cluster of supply crates stood waiting. The sound of something tinkling inside—flasks or glass tubes—reached our ears.

  From behind the crates, Professor Rennal emerged. Tall and slightly disheveled, he hummed softly as he carried a small chest. Placing it on a makeshift table, he flipped it open to reveal rows of tiny vials filled with a glowing amber liquid.

  “All right, children,” Rennal said, voice loud and dramatic. “This will simulate what your blood infusion will feel like, at least, the first level effects. Imagine pure energy, increased blood flow, heightened stamina, the works! But only for a short while. Think of it as your training wheels before the ceremony. We want to get you exposed and used to the effects immediately. You know . . . given the situation. So, I stayed up all night cooking this up. It should be safe enough!” He winked at me, and I raised my eyebrows in confusion.

  If Rennal’s the spy, would he so outlandishly give his hand away? I wondered.

  We looked around at each other, suspicious of the Runic Applications professor. We had already been drugged once by him.

  I looked at Hopsander, who gave a nod of approval. The vials looked harmless enough, though each shimmered faintly. Luna whispered something to Sora.

  “No! You go first!” Sora hissed. Tevin shrugged and reached for one before Mel pushed him aside.

  “Me first, big guy. You’re the one with the sensitive stomach. Let’s see if it hurts me.” She smiled at Tevin and patted his back before swigging down the vial.

  Mel took a step back and waited a moment before giving us a thumbs-up. Then we followed suit. I opened mine and downed it; the taste was metallic and slightly bitter. But at once, a warmth spread through my limbs, and I felt more awake, more aware. It felt similar to the synergy Fern and I shared.

  Hopsander wasted no time. “Weighted sprints!” he barked, gesturing to the far end of the field. “Go!” At his command, we broke into a run harder than we ever had. The vest pulled at my shoulders, but the potion’s effect made the strain almost exhilarating. The ground blurred beneath my feet as I pushed myself to keep pace. We felt like a group of wolves, a pack, running through Hopsander’s orders. I didn’t tap into my synergy this time; instead, I ran with my house.

  After sprints came grappling drills, pairing off with partners to practice swift, controlled takedowns. Mel faced me, grinning fiercely as we locked our arms and tried to knock each other off balance for the victory. The potion buzzed in my veins, letting me anticipate her moves. I still had to tap into my synergy to beat her in the end. Still, Mel was no slouch, and she managed to weave and slip out of my grip many times and used my weight to toss me onto my back in a cloud of dust more than once. I couldn’t relish the victory though—her technique was too good, and I was still relying on the power-ups I was given. Not what I had earned. I thought to myself that I should master a style like she had.

  When Mel, Silas, and I reached Hopsander’s office that evening, my hands were bright red from the cold. The corridors were quieter now, the distant hum of conversation replaced by the gentle hush of crystal light on stone. We walked into his office and around his desk to the wall behind it. I carefully pressed on a concealed panel as Hopsander had told me. With a muffled click, a small door swung inward, revealing a dimly lit passage leading to a cramped meeting chamber hidden behind his office wall.

  Inside, the smell of dust and old leather hung in the air. The room was dark, but as I crept forward, I saw them in the dim light: Hopsander, his broad, frog-like silhouette unmistakable; Waelid, leaning casually against a wall, arms crossed; and Galina, seated on a short wooden stool, her porcelain features impassive. Silas and Mel moved to the side as I walked up to the center of the room and placed my hands on a table that was covered in papers.

  “Good, we’re all here,” Hopsander said quietly, nodding at each of us in turn. He tapped a short cane against the floor. “We have much to discuss and not much time.”

  I folded my arms. “Before we start,” I said, my voice low, “I need to know something: Why is Galina here, and how do we know we can trust her?”

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Galina’s gaze flicked to me, and a wry smile touched her lips. “Erik, why are you so hostile? Didn’t we just bond in the trial? I’m here because our chapter master asked me to be. I am here because I was assigned by Hopsander to assist your friends.” Her tone was sharp and flat.

  “Excuse my accusation, but the more we add to our circle of secrets, the more we open ourselves up to being exposed. And what do you mean assist my friends?”

  Hopsander cleared his throat. “Galina’s presence is necessary, lad. You and Waelid will be going away soon. And I will need Silas and Mel to continue the investigation here. I trust Galina. If you don’t, then we don’t move on with the mission. Am I making myself clear?” The big frog-man looked at me more seriously than I had seen him before. How close were he and Galina?

  I frowned. “Clear . . . but . . . going away? I’m sorry, I didn’t agree to that, what do you mean?”

  “There’s nothing to agree to, recruit. It means they don’t want you here, and I have to babysit,” Waelid said.

  “You know, I missed it when you were overly charming,” I said, turning my nose away from him.

  “Oh, I am always charming, Erik. I just feel that now that I can be honest with you, why would I want to lie to a friend?” Waelid said with a smirk.

  I bit back a retort. Our alliance was fragile, and pushing too hard could break it. I couldn’t risk that now; I needed all the help I could get. Besides, if Hopsander vouched for Galina’s role, that would have to be enough. For now. But I did not like it. She was close with Waelid. Did she even care about what he did?

  Hopsander took a step forward, his webbed feet rasping on the stone. “Erik,” he began, “you obtained certain documents from the restricted archives. I need to know what you took.”

  Exchanging a glance with Mel and Silas, I nodded. “We took some records on twin souls, the Kingdom Above, and shipping and hiring records like you asked. As well as an assortment of certain staff assignment logs. Not everything, just what looked relevant. Last few years of reports.” I paused. “I have them hidden safely. But I can bring them here if you need me to.”

  Hopsander gave a curt nod. “Keep them hidden. I’ll publicly announce that we recovered all stolen documents. Hopefully, this will calm the spy’s nerves—and make them think we’re not pursuing that lead. It might cause them to relax or make a mistake.”

  Mel tapped her chin thoughtfully. “So, the official story is that the infiltration was thwarted and no information was lost?”

  “Yes, only that the spy got away. We are keeping the academy on high alert,” Hopsander said. “We’ll say the intruder ran off empty-handed. Meanwhile, you three—Silas, Mel, and Galina—will discreetly analyze what you have, cross-referencing staff assignments and old shipping records to see who might be our biggest suspects. Keep your circle tight. Trust no one else. Not even your classmates unless necessary.”

  Silas nodded. “Understood. Erik already did a lot of the legwork, but we will take it from there. We’ll be careful.”

  Waelid stepped away from the wall, folding his arms. “And so now back to us. Captain, are you seriously making me go too?” he asked, flicking his gaze at me. “You’re sending me and Erik off to train with Captain Philip, is that it? Away from the academy, away from where the action is?”

  Hopsander’s chest puffed slightly before he responded. “Yes, Waelid. Captain Philip’s training regimen is legendary. You know? Why are you questioning me when he made you the man you are today?”

  “Oh wait . . . It’s THAT training?” Waelid let out a laugh and stumbled back into a chair. “Seriously? Wow, Captain, that’s all you had to say! Still, I can’t believe HE gets to get the training too. He doesn’t even have an infusion yet,” Waelid said, rolling his eyes at me.

  “He’ll shape Erik’s raw potential and refine your own. It’s necessary,” Hopsander said. “The coming battles with the Guardians and possibly the magebloods will demand more than what we have now.” The frog-man’s eyes narrowed. “Also, Captain Philip is excited to have you unleash your infusion.”

  Waelid’s eyes opened, and he beamed a bright smile.

  “You’re telling me this freak doesn’t have an infusion yet? You’re that strong without one?!” Mel said, jabbing a thumb in the direction of Waelid.

  “I have an infusion, I just haven’t used it past level one. I’ve been waiting for Captain Philip’s legendary training.”

  “Captain Philip is already stationed on the second floor,” Hopsander continued. “He’s moved from Ash where you three met him. He’s been leading a recon team to clear out the second floor. You two will join him in that mission.”

  “Clearing out?” I asked.

  Hopsander nodded. “You’ll see. It’s also an opportunity for you to get safely away from the academy. The spy is interested in eliminating you, and with you gone, they might turn their attention elsewhere or expose themselves.”

  Waelid cast me a sidelong glance. “Lucky me, trapped with the twin soul boy,” he complained.

  Hopsander cleared his throat. “Good. Time is short. I have interviews to conduct, and I must make sure I appear to be fully invested in the official investigation. Waelid and Erik, report tomorrow morning at dawn. Be ready at the Mouth.”

  I bowed my head slightly. “Understood.”

  Waelid gave a smile and nod.

  As we prepared to disperse, I stepped closer to Hopsander. “Captain Philip . . .” I asked quietly. “He knows about my twin soul, right?”

  Hopsander nodded. “He’s aware. He helped train Waelid years ago. And while not a twin soul himself, Waelid is . . . special. Philip has seen many anomalies in his years, and due to the results of his training, he saves them for those with the best potential. I told him about you, and after the trial, he agreed to train you. He won’t shy away from pushing you beyond your limits.”

  “How long will I be gone?”

  “A month at least.”

  I swallowed hard. That meant no mercy, no easy shortcuts. One month. One special training month, just like in the anime I used to watch as a kid. I would not waste it.

  I turned to look at Waelid, who was whispering something to Galina. They separated abruptly, and Galina came over to join Silas and Mel, giving me a nod as if reaffirming her role in our secret faction.

  Hopsander stepped to the door. “We should leave separately. Erik, you stay a minute. The rest of you—go. Slowly, one by one.”

  Mel and Silas, followed by Galina, moved toward the door. Mel paused at the doorway next, caught my eye, and mouthed, “Good luck.” Silas left next and patted my shoulder as he passed. Galina slipped out without a word, silent as a shadow.

  Waelid hesitated, and for a moment, his gaze was hard to read—anger, guilt, ambition all twisted together. Then he turned and left, boots echoing softly down the hall.

  Hopsander and I stood quietly listening to Waelid’s footsteps fade. The frog-man leaned close, speaking barely above a whisper. “Be mindful with the practices Captain Philip will put you through. He will try to draw out your full potential, but if you don’t fully surrender and believe, you’ll never reach it. He may test you in unexpected ways, but just trust in the process. Tell yourself that it will work. Don’t lose yourself in yourself, and follow your moral code. Otherwise, you risk becoming another twin soul monster, driven by passion.”

  I nodded. Was this a warning I could heed? Could I remain true to myself in the face of so many forces pulling at me?

  Hopsander’s eyes held an intensity I’d never seen before. “Good luck, son. You are walking a journey few have ever walked.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” I said.

  I took a step toward the exit, pausing in the narrow doorway. “I’ll do my best,” I said. “Just . . . keep an eye on Silas and Mel for me.”

  Hopsander nodded once. “I will. Good luck, lad.”

  I slipped into the hallway and quickly headed back to the dorm. Each step I took away from that secret room brought me closer to an uncertain future.

  Halfway down the corridor, I paused at an intersection, listening. The academy was quiet. No footsteps, no voices. I turned left, heading toward the dorms. Another turn and I was in a narrower passage.

  Something moved at the edge of my vision—a flicker of shadow, gone too fast. I froze, hand drifting toward my sword’s hilt. The corridor stretched before me, empty. Was it just my imagination?

  I took another step. A soft scraping sound came from behind. I whirled around, drawing a sharp breath.

  No one. Empty halls. My heartbeat drummed in my ears.

  ‘We’re not alone,’ Fern whispered, anxiety dripping from his voice.

  “Show yourself!” I said, loud enough to reach the end of the hallway but not a full yell.

  I took another cautious step, and the torches above flickered, casting shifting patterns on the walls. Then a faint whisper reached my ears—an indecipherable hiss of words that set my teeth on edge.

  I spun again, sword drawn, breath caught in my throat. The pinging noise from my sword was a faint buzz right now. I ignored it and looked down the hallway.

  There, at the far end of the corridor, a dark shape melted back into the shadows. It was the shape of a woman, with nine fox tails that were flickering softly in the darkness. Then a soft, mocking laugh drifted back to me. My grip tightened on the hilt, knuckles whitening.

  “You need to leave, twin soul. I told you already. It’s for your own safety, and your friends’. Like Silas or Sora,” she hissed.

  I tightened my grip at the names of my friends. Who was this person? Did the spy have a partner? “Yeah? Well, let’s say I do take that advice. Starting tomorrow I’ll be going up in the pillar. How about you find me there, yeah?”

  The shadowy figure stepped to the side and disappeared in the darkness.

  “Oh? You will leave here? But not away from the pillar? You venture . . . to Dust?” she said, her voice sounding like it was right in my ear. I twisted and saw nothing. Fear knotted in my belly as I stood alone in that dim corridor, facing a silent emptiness, knowing that just beyond the edge of light, danger lurked, watching my every move.

  “I . . . I don’t know what Dust is, but I am leaving. So leave my friends alone, okay?” I said, sword still ringing.

  “If you come back and get involved, you know there’s no guarantee your friends will stay safe,” the voice said.

  I swallowed hard and took a step backward. Another laugh, softer this time, echoed faintly as if from behind a closed door or through a wall.

  Outside, a gust of wind rattled a window somewhere. The crystals surged, and like a power outage, they shut off, plunging the corridor into a brief darkness.

  When the lights returned, the hallway was empty again. No more voices, no more laughs, no more hisses.

  I lowered my sword slowly. The nine-tailed fox . . . was she a friend? Or another enemy?