Chapter 21
“Why the hell are you outside the academy?” Tarven didn’t even try to hide his irritation—or the emotions driving it.
I wasn’t particularly bothered by his outrage.
Now, if it had been Airis instead...
That would’ve been terrifying.
His disappointment was far worse.
Glancing at Anastasia, I expected her to back down.
She didn’t.
Instead, she straightened her back, put on the most innocent expression imaginable, and flashed him a dazzling smile.
“Did you know the desserts here are ridiculously good?” Scooping up another bite with her spoon, Stasia continued casually, “I was just telling Ria I’ve tried recreating them a few times, but mine never come close—”
“What the hell are you doing outside Isthmond?” Tarven snapped.
Honestly, his inability to hide his emotions was almost impressive.
Just like Stasia’s patience.
“You know how exhausting it is seeing the same faces and the same walls every single day?” she pouted dramatically before smiling at him again.
“Although I could never get tired of looking at your face, pretty boy.”
“Anastasia Radia Lang,” Tarven said sharply, “I’ll ask again.”
“What the hell are you doing outside the academy?”
With a quiet sigh, I looked away and continued eating my cake.
The argument carried on without me.
“I just told you,” Stasia replied lazily.
“We wanted a change of scenery.”
“Besides, Ria’s never been to Magicslan before, and I’m pretty sure that boring killjoy Airis never would’ve brought her here.”
“Do you even understand how dangerous this is?”
“Dangerous how?” Stasia asked, completely unfazed.
In that moment, they felt like complete opposites.
Not just in appearance...
But in temperament, too.
“Harold has no idea who’ll make it into the strongest class before the Selection Trials,” she continued with a shrug.
“And if you mean ordinary criminals...”
She waved her spoon carelessly.
“Thanks to your training, I could handle them with one hand tied behind my back.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Tarven muttered.
“I mean the company you chose.”
“Excuse me?” I raised a brow, shooting him an irritated look.
“I think she’s excellent company,” Stasia said with a grin.
“You’re impossible.”
Tarven let out a slow breath, as though physically forcing himself to regain control.
“What if you’re sitting here right now with one of Harold’s agents?”
“I doubt it,” Stasia replied calmly.
“You’ve known me long enough.”
She tilted her head.
“So tell me...”
“How often have I been wrong about people?”
She looked at him expectantly.
Silence followed.
Along with an entire emotional crisis playing out across Tarven’s face.
God.
He and Airis were complete opposites.
Airis would rather eat a live worm than openly admit what he was feeling.
Tarven, meanwhile, practically wore every emotion on his face without even trying.
“And you stole my sigil case,” he muttered at last, noticeably calmer now.
“You barely use it anyway,” Stasia replied.
“Another few months and people would've assumed a corpse was still paying taxes.”
“Finish your food.”
Tarven remained standing beside our round table.
“Then we’re going back to Isthmond.”
“You don’t want anything?” Stasia asked sweetly.
“I’m buying.”
She held up Tarven’s stolen sigil case.
Swearing under his breath, he immediately snatched it out of her hand.
“You know,” she added casually, nodding toward the button embedded in the center of the table, “before you started talking, you forgot to press it.”
“What if someone had overheard us?”
“Good thing you turned it on before I got here,” Tarven muttered.
“I couldn’t hear a damn thing you two were talking about.”
I made a mental note to learn more about devices like that.
It was an incredible invention.
“And did you really have to pick this place?” Tarven grimaced, looking around the bar.
“I always knew people who went to daytime discos were insane.”
“I just never expected you to become one of them.”
“One of us,” Stasia corrected immediately.
Tarven only sighed.
******
“Training starts at nine tomorrow. Be in the dining hall no later than eight,” Tarven instructed as he stood outside the door to Airis’s quarters.
I lingered in the doorway, feeling the spirits’ stares on my back as they waited to see what would happen next.
“I still haven’t even seen the dining hall,” I admitted. “Where is it, anyway?”
“I’ll come get you in the morning, and we’ll go together,” Stasia said.
“We’ll come get you,” Tarven corrected immediately.
“Oh my God.” Stasia placed a hand over her chest in mock horror.
“I knew you hated spending even a single minute away from me, but Tarven…”
She grinned.
“Not to this extent.”
Tarven rolled his eyes.
“Goodnight, Illariana,” he said with a weary sigh before grabbing the still-grinning Stasia by the elbow and steering her down the corridor.
Shaking my head, I closed the door and stepped farther into the room.
“Well, look at that.”
Aars bared his sharp teeth in a grin.
“You're still alive.”
“You could’ve come with me, you know. You can leave Isthmond whenever you want,” I muttered, dropping into a chair.
“I had more interesting things to do,” Aars replied lazily, hopping onto the bed and folding his front paws behind his head as though he were human.
“Aars visited Mataarus,” Mortz informed me from the chair beside mine.
Luis, meanwhile, was—as always—jumping across Airis’s bed.
“What for?” I asked, turning to Aars.
“To learn more about the ways we can prove your direct connection to the world of the dead.”
“There is a connection,” I said confidently.
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, revealing the two earrings.
“And what exactly are we supposed to be impressed by?” Aars asked with exaggerated boredom.
“They’re talismans.”
“They reacted to two different energies.”
“Fire and death.”
I gave him a pointed look.
Aars answered with an exaggerated yawn.
“Spirits don’t really believe in charms, talismans, and all that nonsense,” Luis explained, finally giving up on jumping.
He sat down on the bed, swinging one leg over the wooden frame.
“That stuff is mostly for mortals.”
“I used to think the same thing,” I admitted, “until I found out Stasia has a hidden second ability.”
Three pairs of eyes snapped toward me.
“She has what?” Mortz asked.
Then he processed what I'd said.
“And what exactly is her second ability?”
“She’s a seer.”
Luis let out a sympathetic sigh.
“Rough life.”
“The brat was a seer in one of his past lives,” Aars added casually.
“Seriously?” I asked, searching Luis’s face for confirmation.
The spirit nodded.
“The worst thing that can happen to seers,” Luis said quietly, “is losing the ability to tell the present from the future.”
His expression darkened.
“Seers perceive the world...”
He paused.
“All worlds... differently.”
A heavy silence settled between us.
“To them, time doesn’t truly exist,” he continued.
“The past, the present, and the future all exist at once.”
“They simply spend their lives trying to separate them.”
I swallowed hard.
I wanted to ask about his life.
About his death.
But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
“And most of them hide what they are,” Mortz added.
“Or at least they should.”
Luis gave a faint nod.
I looked at Mortz questioningly.
“They’re too valuable to the rulers of Noveris,” he explained.
“People use them.”
“With or without their consent.”
“Stasia never mentioned any of this,” I said quietly.
“Because very few people know,” Luis replied.
“I think you should warn the blonde,” Aars muttered.
“Assuming she hasn’t done anything terrible to you yet.”
I hummed softly in agreement.
“And now,” Aars continued proudly, rolling onto his stomach and propping his chin on one paw, “you may ask me what I discovered in Mataarus.”
Without waiting for permission, he continued anyway.
“I now know how to determine whether you have blood ties to the world of the dead.”
“And how exactly?”
“There are three ways.”
Aars grinned.
“I can’t say any of them are completely safe...”
“But they work.”
Of course there was a catch.
“The first option is visiting the Temple of the Blood Goddess Nurinuru.”
“Inside is the Lake of Truth.”
His eyes gleamed.
“Look into it, and you’ll see every one of your relatives standing behind you.”
“That actually sounds safe,” I admitted cautiously.
“Sure.”
Aars shrugged.
“Except that if your bloodline isn’t connected to Mataarus, the temple collapses and buries you alive.”
“Wonderful,” I muttered dryly.
“You could always become the first person to outrun it,” he offered helpfully.
“What are the other options?” Mortz asked.
“You spill your blood inside the Archives of Nurinuru.”
“An ancient voice should awaken and greet the bloodline that summoned it.”
“And the danger?” I asked immediately.
“The Archives lie beneath Lake Saveki.”
He began counting on his claws.
“You could drown.”
“Get eaten by a monster.”
“Accidentally wander into the wrong section and end up in a Mataarus prison.”
“Or—”
“That’s enough.”
I cut him off quickly.
“We need another plan.”
“You shouldn’t be afraid,” Luis said gently.
“Magic always comes from somewhere.”
“It’s usually inherited through bloodlines,” Mortz explained.
“There’s no way you aren’t connected to Mataarus by blood.”
But somehow, his words didn’t reassure me at all.
“I thought maybe Stasia’s ability could help,” I admitted.
“I haven’t asked her yet, but I think she’d agree.”
“Personally, I still vote for Lake Saveki,” Aars argued.
“No, thanks,” I muttered through clenched teeth.
I was fully convinced that place would somehow find a way to make sure I either drowned or ended up in prison.
“I think we can continue this discussion later,” Mortz said, meeting my gaze.
“Right now, you need some sleep.”
“I’ve seen how brutal Tarven’s training sessions can be.”
“And considering how furious he was when he found out where you’d gone,” Luis added, “don’t expect any mercy.”
“So why exactly did you warn her?” Aars scoffed.
Did I really want to visit Mataarus with him that badly?
Maybe Stasia had foreseen what would happen...
And stopped me for a reason.
Without another word, the spirits vanished.
Leaving me alone with the silence.
I looked around the familiar room.
But the familiar feeling was gone.
Only emptiness remained.