Across the town of Orlando, within the halls of the Evernight Academy.
The morning sun filtered through the classroom windows, casting long, golden
bars across the desks. Amy sat by the glass, the nib of her pen absentmindedly
gouging tiny craters into her scratch paper. Her mind was a chaotic static,
refusing to anchor itself to the text before her.
Subconsciously, her gaze drifted toward the back of the classroom.
Thomas, Jack, and Colin were slumped over their desks, snoring with such abandon
that they were nearly drooling on their local history scrolls.
Amy pulled her gaze back, staring at her own stained fingertips. Her head
throbbed with the weight of the morning's gossip. The "Most Wanted" fugitive in
the sewers. The massive sweep by the Punishnt Legion. The reports that the
search yielded nothing.
So... Big Sister Lia... has she truly departed?
"Amy Green."
At the lectern, the young instructor called her na with a practiced, gentle
patience.
Amy jolted. She stood up so abruptly that the legs of her chair shrieked against
the stone floor. "Present!"
"Answer the prompt on the board, please."
Amy blinked, looking up at the blackboard covered in sharp, white chalk script.
A farr possesses fifteen chickens. He sells one-third of the flock. How many
remain?
Her mind was a void. Not because the arithtic was beyond her, but because she
hadn't processed a single word of the lecture.
"Five... five chickens?" she whispered tentatively.
A wave of snickering rippled through the room. The instructor shook her head,
her tone remaining soft but pointed. "Think again, Amy. If he sells a third, how
many did he lose? And how many are left in the pen?"
Amy's face flushed a vivid, humiliated crimson. She bit her lip, forcing her
brain to engage the kinetic chain of the problem. Fifteen divided by three is
five. Fifteen minus five is...
"Ten remain."
"Excellent. You may sit," the instructor nodded. "Try to keep your focus
anchored to the lesson next ti."
Amy sat, burying her face so low it nearly touched the wood of the desk. The sun
outside was high now, the light a blinding glare. Two more bells until she could
head to the sewers.
What if she's still there? What if she's waiting for ?
The wait was a slow, agonizing grind. Finally, the dismissal bell tolled. Amy
snatched her reed basket and was the first to burst through the classroom doors.
She navigated the streets of Orlando with the practiced ease of a local
harvester, darting through the crowds. She perford her rounds, knocking on
doors to collect the scraps.
"Excuse , do you have any wilted greens for disposal?" "Any bread crusts for
the harvest, sir?" "Thank you, ma'am!"
To every resident who opened their door, Amy offered a wide, bright smile. The
townsfolk knew her well—the diligent girl working to support her household. They
often slipped her an extra piece of fruit or patted her head with encouraging
words.
"Such a responsible child." "Working so hard at her age. A credit to the
Empire." "Is your mother's fever breaking, little one?"
Amy thanked them with a bob of her head, but the knot of unease in her stomach
only tightened. Her basket was soon overflowing with the refuse of the town's
kitchens. Hoisting the heavy load, she broke into a sprint toward the sewer
entrance. Her breathing turned into jagged gasps as she plunged into the
familiar dark.
In the damp tunnels, the slis undulated as they always did. The light of her
oil lamp danced across the walls. Amy sprinted toward the junction where she and
Lia had spent their nights.
It was empty.
The small wooden stool was gone. The shadows were vacant.
Amy stood in the center of the tunnel, her lantern trembling in her grip. "Big
Sister Lia?"
Her voice was a tiny, fragile thing, instantly swallowed by the vast, echoing
silence of the underground. She drew a jagged breath and shouted into the dark.
"BIG SISTER LIA!"
The only response was the soft, rhythmic plop of a sli leaping into a puddle.
Amy bit her lip, fighting the surge of emotion. She paced the length of the
channel several tis, checking every alcove and every recessed pipe where a
person might hide.
Nothing.
She was truly gone.
Amy sank into a crouch, dumping the basket of scraps into the water. The slis
sward the food with mindless hunger. Amy watched them, her eyes stinging.
"Sli, oh sli, so round and neat..." she humd her song, trying to distract
her brain from the hollow ache in her chest. "I bring you scraps and things to
eat..."
Her voice trailed off, turning thick with a heavy, nasal congestion. She
couldn't finish the verse. Tears blurred her vision, threatening to spill over.
Amy took a sharp breath, wiping her nose with her sleeve.
No. I will not weep. Big Sister said tears only show people where to strike.
They make you weak.
She forced herself into a state of clinical calm, focusing on the harvest. One
sli, two, three...
She waited until the slis had divided for a second ti before she began to
bag the babies. She found herself drifting, her eyes constantly snapping back to
the empty corner. She expected, at any micro-second, for that silver-haired
silhouette to erge from the gloom and announce her return in that flat,
unreadable tone.
But the dark remained silent.
Eventually, Amy hauled her half-empty bag of slis out of the exit. The setting
sun stretched her shadow into a long, lonely needle against the dirt.
The next day. Evernight Academy.
The instructor closed her heavy textbook and signaled the end of the period.
"That concludes our session for today." Her gaze swept the room before settling
on Amy. "Amy, please assist by collecting yesterday's journals."
Amy blinked, then stood. "Yes, Instructor."
She took the wooden collection bin and began her circuit from the front row. One
by one, her classmates deposited their howork. Amy reached the final row.
Thomas, Jack, and Colin.
The three remained slumped over, using feigned sleep as a tactical defense
against the instructor's gaze. Amy stood before their desks, her voice as flat
as she could manage.
"Your journals."
She was ignored.
"Thomas. Jack. Colin. Submit your work."
Thomas lifted his head, his eyes narrowed with a petty, biting malice. "Didn't
do it."
"Reason for non-completion?" Amy asked.
Jack looked up, his tone a sharp jab. "None of your business, Sli-Girl."
Amy's grip on the bin tightened. Her heart rate accelerated. She took a
steadying breath, the rhythm Lia had taught her. "The Instructor requires the
submission."
"And we said we don't have it," Thomas sneered, looking down at her from his
height. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Go on, run and tell," Colin muttered. "It's the only thing you're good at.
Tattletale."
Amy's hands were shaking. But she didn't retreat. She looked Thomas directly in
the eye, her violet-tinged gaze mirroring the steel she had seen in the sewers.
"I shall report the data to the Instructor with total accuracy."
Amy turned her back on them, marching toward the lectern. Behind her, the boys
hissed a low-tier threat.
"You're dead." "Wait until after school."
Amy didn't look back. She set the bin on the lectern and looked up at the
instructor. "Instructor, Thomas, Jack, and Colin have failed to submit their
journals."
The instructor, who had been reviewing her schedule, stiffened. Her expression
turned stern. "Them again?" She looked toward the back row. "Thomas. Jack.
Colin. Front and center."
The three boys trudged forward, their heads bowed in a performance of mock
contrition.
"Reason for the missing work?"
"Forgot," Thomas muttered, his voice lacking conviction.
"Forgot?" The instructor's voice sharpened. "For the third ti this month?"
"We really did," Jack tried to lie.
"Then perhaps a week of sanitation duty in the latrines will help your mory
process information more effectively," the instructor said coldly, pointing
toward the door. "Go. Now."
The boys' faces twisted into masks of resentnt. As Thomas passed Amy, he shot
her a look of pure, unadulterated venom.
Amy felt her chest tighten. But she remained where she was, refusing to flinch.
Once the boys had exited, the instructor knelt to Amy's level. She patted Amy's
head. "Well done, Amy. Integrity is a vital attribute. Never abandon what is
correct simply because of fear."
She slipped a peppermint candy into Amy's palm. "A reward for your diligence."
"Thank you, Instructor."
After school.
Amy perford her rounds as usual, her reed basket swinging at her side as she
headed toward the sewer entrance. She knew Big Sister Lia likely wouldn't be
there. But she had to look.
What if? What if she had returned?
The twilight sun bathed the town in a sea of gold. Amy humd her tune, her
steps possessing a new, defiant rhythm.
"Sli, oh sli, so round and neat..."
As she reached the mouth of the tunnel, three familiar silhouettes blocked her
path once more.
☆☆☆
-> 20 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!
-> spat-reon.co-m/c/Hollowborn
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)
If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you
User Comments
0 comments from readers