By the ti I finally started heading toward the dorms, it was only because Miss... or Mrs.... Ysara had commanded it. I still had no idea what her proper title was
Not suggested.
Not advised.
Commanded.
Her voice had cut through the lingering tension in the courtyard like a whip, sharp and final, leaving no room for argunt. The problem was... I had absolutely no idea where I was going.
The hallways of Altheris Academy were eerily empty by the ti I stepped into them. Completely deserted. No lingering students whispering in corners, no staff mbers patrolling with stern expressions, no kind soul offering even a half-hearted direction or pretending to care. It was as if the entire population had vanished the mont dismissal was announced, lting into the shadows like ghosts who had fulfilled their role in the day’s spectacle.
I walked. Turned left at one junction, right at another. Walked so more. The corridors stretched endlessly, identical in their polished marble floors and high arched ceilings, each one lit by soft, floating orbs of light that cast long, dancing shadows. Nothing looked familiar. Every turn felt like a cruel joke designed specifically to disorient .
I kept telling myself I would stumble onto the dorms eventually, surely the academy couldn’t be that vast, but instead I spent nearly thirty exhausting minutes wandering like soone who had lost sothing vital, when in reality I wasn’t even sure what I was searching for anymore.
Maybe it was the lingering effects of the sedative my parents had pumped into before shipping off like unwanted cargo.
Maybe it was the psychological scar left by the blood-sucking ropes that had nearly turned into a public execution in front of an audience of strangers.
Or maybe my body had simply reached its limit after one too many betrayals, one too many brushes with death in a single day.
Whatever the cause, weakness crept into my limbs so suddenly and so completely that my legs surrendered long before my pride could catch up.
I needed to sit.
Imdiately.
I pushed open the nearest door with what little strength I had left and found myself in a room that looked... vaguely familiar. Rows of heavy wooden desks arranged in neat lines. A large slate board dominating the front wall. Tall, narrow windows letting in the last pale rays of evening light, painting everything in soft, muted gold.
A classroom.
Of course it was.
Because why would my life ever grant even the smallest convenience?
I sank into the nearest chair, the wood creaking under my weight, and rested my arms heavily on the desk in front of . My head followed shortly after, forehead pressing against the cool surface. I told myself it would only be for a mont... just long enough for my body to make sense of itself again, to stop trembling, to rember how to function like a normal person.
But my body had never been particularly good at listening to .
The last coherent thought I managed was that maybe I should worry about falling asleep in an unfamiliar place, inside an unfamiliar academy, surrounded by unfamiliar dangers and people who had already proven they had no qualms about watching others die.
But I slept.
Deeply. Heavily. The kind of sleep that feels more like surrender than rest.
I heard footsteps at so point... distant at first, then growing steadily closer, echoing softly down the empty corridor outside. But I was too exhausted to care. Too drained to open my eyes. Too numb to lift my head and check whether those footsteps belonged to danger, to death, or to simple indifference.
If this was how I went, from exhausted sleep straight into whatever ca next... then so be it. At least it would be quiet.
"What are you doing here?"
The voice was close. Too close.
That was what finally dragged back to consciousness.
I lifted my head slowly, vision blurred and swimming, my body still heavy with the kind of bone-deep fatigue that made every movent feel like wading through molasses.
"I don’t know," I replied honestly, blinking up at the person standing before , my voice thick with sleep.
He was a young guy, maybe a year or two older or even younger than .... I can’t say
Wearing a black face mask that covered the lower half of his face.
Sothing about him felt... familiar. Not in a close, comforting way, just distant enough to tease at the edges of my mory without offering any real answers. The way he stood, the subtle tilt of his head, the quiet intensity in his posture... it tugged at sothing I couldn’t quite na.
"Why aren’t you in the dorm rooms?" he asked. His tone seem neutral at first, almost cautious.
"I can’t find my way there," I admitted, rubbing at my eyes with the back of my hand. "Everything looks the sa."
"I will take you there," he said simply.
"Thank you," I replied, the words slipping out on pure reflex.
Only then did I notice it.
His voice.
There was sothing off about it, like he was deliberately forcing it to sound deeper and rougher than it naturally was. Like he was hiding his real voice from on purpose, layering it with an artificial edge.
I couldn’t say exactly why I knew it, but I did. So instinct, sharpened by years of reading between the lines of cruelty and deception, pinged loudly in the back of my mind.
I pretended not to care about the obvious change in his voice and followed him anyway, because, honestly, what else was there left to be afraid of at this point?
I had already been almost turned into a public sacrifice. In front of an audience. With rules and professors watching like it was just another lesson in their twisted curriculum.
At that point, fear felt... tired.
And so was I.
My head felt heavy and drowsy, like it might detach from my neck at any mont and roll away on its own. All I wanted was sowhere, anywhere, to rest it. Preferably on sothing softer than cold stone or another blood-stained execution ground.
I followed the masked guy quietly through the winding corridors. I didn’t speak. He didn’t either. It was one of those silences that wasn’t awkward, just empty, stretched thin by mutual exhaustion and the weight of everything that had happened earlier.
He led out of the classroom building I had collapsed in and toward another large structure tucked behind it, partially hidden by carefully manicured hedges and ancient-looking trees whose leaves shimred faintly with residual magic.
The mont I saw it, I slowed my steps.
The building was beautiful. Clean, elegant lines. Tall, imposing walls of dark stone veined with silver. Soft golden lights glowing from within, warm and inviting against the deepening twilight. Just like the rest of Altheris Academy, too beautiful for a place that didn’t hesitate to kill its students for sport or test their limits with casual brutality.
Whoever had designed this place clearly possessed a twisted sense of balance: beauty on the surface, death lurking just beneath.
Still, beauty had never stopped danger before.
For all I knew, this masked stranger could be leading sowhere far worse than the courtyard I had just escaped. But that didn’t an I would surrender without a fight. Exhausted or not, I wasn’t planning to die quietly or easily.
This place felt like an entirely new world.
And honestly, it looked so good, so deceptively peaceful, that I could almost understand why soone might willingly let themselves be sacrificed here.
Definitely not , though.
I am very attached to breathing.
To living.
To not being dead.
I counted the buildings as we walked, seven in total, if my tired, foggy brain wasn’t betraying . Each one stood in a neat row, glowing faintly in its own distinct color.
"These are the dorms," the guy finally said, stopping at the edge of the courtyard that separated the buildings. "You just need to knock and see if anyone is willing to let you in."
And just like that, he turned and walked off.
No further explanation.
No offer to help find the right one.
No dramatic reveal or lingering glance.
"Thank you," I called after him, my voice echoing softly in the quiet night air.
He only lifted one hand in response, casual, almost lazy, waving without bothering to turn back.
And that...
That was exactly where my misfortune started all over again.
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