While many senators have most of their vils in the city, or high up, carved out of the face of the cliff; the Academy wasn't scking behind. Although cking luxury, reaching about half the height of the facade, there were many carved rectangur spaces, ptforms really, located both south and north of it. The one I'm on now is a good deal south of the facade, with enough room for even the rgest of Winged to nd. A few luscious purple and gray pnts decorated the corners here and there, while very widely-spaced, mostly empty benches are pced near the walls.

  Getting here took us considerable running and plodding over a stair and a few since there are no air-transport familiars operating for most of the students. The running was fun at first but after a time it became annoying, yet the air was still rich and crisp even in the deepest of tunnels—I think this made it easier for Hebe and Michael to keep going. Of course, I had to exaggerate my breathlessness toward the end of our trek.

  With a well-lit spider's web of narrowish ascending tunnels and wide corridors, I'm starting to wonder if the Academy perhaps uses more crystals than Lodestar itself.

  There are rge common areas deep within the Academy that are far more accessible and richly furnished, but the pleasant wind and this view are, without question, worth the hassle of coming here.

  I throw a long look at the mostly jagged ndscape far below. My eyes devour the captivating sight of the Valley, filling the stretching abyss down and beyond us. Even though the height was always a constant in my life, my bone marrow thrills with excitement, but I hide it well and try to give a torpid exterior, unaffected by the magnificent view. I tilt my head a little. Eyes focus, focus...I can see the trickle of smoke coming from the Forge, far below. There is even an area not that far from the facade, designated for saddlemakers. That profession is sometimes overlooked, with people not realizing how important it is. Nearly every saddle has to be custom-made, with the addition of reinforced stitching, regur maintenance, and repairs, all being mandatory, especially for winged crystalborn. Rich breakfast in the Hall being a dead giveaway, today was Ninthday. Our csses st from Firstday to Eighthday with the remaining two days being unshackled for students to use as they saw fit. The majority spent their free time using the Academy's many facilities. Especially loved are gymnasiums and pools, with even a retively small theatre and a little arena down there, all logged seemingly randomly in the jumble of rocky hills and knolls—roughly shaped into fists, spears, and all other erratic formations that only nature can devise. Michael told me the Academy even has catacombs, south of the ridiculously rge facade. Like all of this is not enough, there are temples dedicated to each Daughter and to Allmother, don't remember where exactly, though. To be nice, I pretended to listen with great interest when he described those temples since he seems to have an affinity toward religion. Ignoring a garden or two, this area of the Valley was not the most kind to pnt life but there are occasional bck shrubs and bushes with even a few purple ones dotting the ndscape. Even my eyes struggle to see those. Need to practice more.

  This pce seems like a miniature city which might be understandable since it is more practical to produce the basic necessities near one's base of operations. Not good. Half a cliff is cmping upon my head. I'm proficient at hiding the discomfort, but it is an effort to do so. My fingers instinctively rake through my hair.

  I look to my left. Despite being a year younger than me, Micheal seems to almost annoyingly know everything Hebe and I ask him about the Academy. He wanted to show us this pce and from the way he behaved, I suspect he wanted a nice private spot to talk.

  Based on Hebe's glint of wonder and Michael's look of appreciation I'd say they seem absolutely awed. Michael looks at me and seems slightly disappointed. The three of us decided to come close to the secluded corner of the ptform. My fingers tap one after the other across the thick stony railing.

  ''It's a little chilly.'' Hebe slides a right hand across her long coat.

  Out of my sleeve, I pull out the cozy woolen hat that my mom knitted and put my other hand on Hebe's shoulder to grab her attention. I prefer to wear it inside my sleeve because I don't like how it stands out in my pocket. ''Here.''

  She takes it almost immediately. ''Thank you. You good though?'' Hebe moves the delicate-pink hat back toward me.

  I wave my hand, nod at her in confirmation, and then look hard at Michael. My patience is low as my dislike of stairs is high. ''I don't mean to be mean but---''

  Raven-bck horse—whose wings bristle with long feathers of matching color—nds further away from us, near the central area of the ample space. The rider, a well-dressed elderly man with a long white beard, hops off the crystalborn with surprising agility and goes on with his business. The regal beast suddenly turns and starts sprinting. It spreads its mighty wings and jumps over the railing with great ease into the canyon below. I look at the Winged for a few heartbeats as it gracefully flies away. The thing looked as if stolen from the night.

  ''Anyway...The ring is yours, chariot rider.'' I say after the interruption.

  Finally, Michael feels comfortable enough to talk.

  ''For centuries, the Academy had problems with oppression and order. Novices would often be jarred by older generations, and csses would have their petty bickerings between them, creating strife and bad blood. Disastrous for future teamwork and morale. Long ago, it was thought this makes for better Breakers, better soldiers...men, and women 'as hard as a fully-charged crystal,' as my grandmother would put it. Experience showed if students are left unchecked to govern their internal strife, discord grows faster than Violet-made saplings. With incidents pilling and often being ignored, it all culminated with the massacre decades prior, and drastic changes were made.''

  It feels as though he's trying to talk like an adult. Even his voice got a certain rougher edge to it.

  ''Before, at the end of the fifth year, students would perform Genesis and create their own crystalborn. The sixth and seventh years were always meant to be specialization years based on the produced crystalborn. Since familiars grow up fully in about two years it doesn't take much time to distinguish Grey from a Bck Breaker, while Violet's pnt familiars were immediately apparent. The system was changed since the event.''

  Michael looks to the side at the vista. His throat moves like he just swallowed half an apple. ''I can't be sure if it was a century ago or many decades ago, since there is no public record avaible to most, but once there was a student who was incessantly harassed by his cssmates. The story goes his father was a coal miner, way down at the southern end of the canyon. He died during this student's seventh and final year. Others called this student 'dirty' and 'soiled' or something absurd like that and after years of harassment, he has done something horrific in the closing months of his studies. Despite some of his familiars not being fully grown, they were still formidable beasts, and one day he used them as his sword, on students and grandmasters.''

  Hebe's face loses almost all color until it becomes paler than the hat I've given her. ''No one would do such a thing.''

  He has my full attention and I don't wish to interrupt him, so I say nothing, spurring him to continue.

  Michael sighs and lowers his voice a bit. ''So...before he was stopped, the boy...No. He was probably an adult at the time of the incident.'' He corrects himself, still avoiding eye contact. ''So, this young man killed dozens of students and a few grandmasters. Now grandmasters are difficult enough to repce but those with the gift are even more so. The Senate was in an uproar. New rules were made. New people put in pce. The entire leadership of the Academy was eviscerated,'' his mouth twitched and his nose crinkled a little, after which he clears his throat, ''I meant to say changed, people and rules of this pce changed. Order and discipline were increased with no tolerance for harassment. The incident was also deeply damaging to the Academy's prestige and reputation. This is partly the reason Bck Breakers are allowed to have only three familiars.''

  ''How do you know all this?'' I ask.

  He finally looks at me and just shrugs. ''Before leaving home my mother told me to learn whatever I can about the Academy.''

  The silence that follows is annoying to me and long. I do not like the look in their eyes, I do not like this growing feeling of unease in my chest. A distraction is needed.

  Snake-quick, I flick my arm to grab ''Hebe's'' hat and then whip the end of it at her chest.

  ''Ow!'' is her eloquent response. ''Ann that hurt.''

  I start to walk slowly backward. ''If any of you can catch me they get to keep it.'' I twirl the hat on one finger, then turn and bolt back inside.

  Hebe begins to chase me but my ughter is all she will catch. ''You only said that cuz you're faster than me!''

  I gnce behind me for a fsh and see Micheal leaning on the railing with both arms, looking at the vista in the direction where that bck horse disappeared.

  It's getting te. Must be night. Not that it matters from deep inside this tomb. I saunter down the lonely corridor, moving away from the library and toward the dormitory.

  Michael's history lesson unnerved me; can't lie. I did a little reading about the history and creed of this pce.

  If a student is about to be expelled from the Academy then he would have to walk in a procession manner, wearing an all-white robe, between all the students and grandmasters. Also, his family and neighbors are required to be present. It is a humiliating process that is probably meant to serve as a deterrent against anything that may displease or soil the Academy's honor. Turns out this stuff is common knowledge. Shows how much I know.

  Over its long history The Breaker Academy tried whipping, beating, and other forms of punishment for insubordination but after a lot of bloody trial and error it turns out public humiliation and being shunned by all around you is far more effective. A legion of column-tall guards helps too. It even often gets to a point where students are wary of what they say and who they talk to. My theory, anyway.

  To make matters more unnerving for all of us, what may or may not get you expelled isn't exactly known, it varies greatly and it is that unknown which makes it more difficult to bend or twist the rules. Students don't know where the line is, which cannot be crossed. It is a clever way of using opacity.

  People are so strange; you can threaten to peel our skin or to beat us half to death and still there will always be some who choose to ignore the rules, but threaten with public humiliation and expulsion from the community and all will honor the rules as if the goddess herself wrote them.