Cecilia stared down at the student before her. She remembered the young girl from the latest spring intake’s orientation ceremony. Alira Ravon. Not only did she arrive late, but she also had the nerve to call her speech an ‘inspirational rambling’.

  Sure, it was true, to some extent, but still.

  The girl had been at the Academy for two weeks and had visited Professor Daw’s office thrice. That was a record broken—one that was set by another Ravon a few years ago. Alira was truly a peculiar case. Even more so now, as Cecilia watched, the same prompt popped up before her.

  [ The target has a higher Authority than you. Counselor’s Aspect(s) cannot be applied. ]

  Something had changed in Alira since the last time Cecilia had seen her during the ceremony. She could still read the girl’s thoughts with no issue back then. As the vice-headmaster, she indisputably had a higher Authority than Alira within the Academy. That was the only requirement for the aspect to work.

  Cecilia tried again.

  [ Confide failed. The target has a higher Authority than you. ]

  And she failed again for the sixth time in the span of five minutes which the office had been in complete silence.

  Her best guess was the artifact the girl had gotten herself when she ‘happened to’ find an underground system after ‘accidentally’ triggering the Retriever’s spell. Then, she just ‘coincidentally’ found an artifact. As curious as she was, she respected the rights–and the laws–for Alira to choose not to disclose about her bound artifact.

  All of that remained secondary concerns. The main problem remained that only one student had returned—looking like she had left her soul behind and refusing to speak a word since she came back—from three students who had left the Academy. She had a feeling that this would happen. Professor Daw most definitely felt the same as well, directly rejecting their applications for leave.

  What was the headmaster thinking?

  She had to read his letter twice to confirm that he ruled Professor Daw’s rejection to actually allow the bunch of hot potatoes fresh out of the oven to leave. Now came the problem, and it was hers to deal with.

  Cecilia was summoned to read the girl’s mind to find out everything she needed to know. Now, as with her Role suddenly useless and uncooperative, things were getting more complicated than they seemed at first.

  Seeing how shaken up the girl was, Cecilia was torn between wanting to give her more time to calm down and the urgency to get her to talk. She reached out to hold the poor girl’s trembling hands when they stilled.

  Alira’s eyes were glossy when she finally turned her head. “Lillian is going to die soon.” Her voice came out raw, like her throat had dried out some time ago. Had she been drinking or eating anything since she came back?

  Cecilia gritted her teeth, almost cursing at her words. “Lillian—”

  “She’s going to die. They said they will kill her soon.” Alira slammed a crumbled piece of paper down on the desk. “It’s me. Because of me. I shouldn’t have let her know. I shouldn’t have let her come with us to begin with. I shouldn’t have...”

  Cecilia snatched the paper and didn’t waste a second to unfold it. She hissed to stop a swear slipping past her lips.

  “No...it’s all because of him,” Alira mumbled. “I wouldn’t be here if he just let me die. I wouldn’t have to go through all of this. Why won’t you let me di—”

  “Miss Ravon,” Cecilia quickly stopped her, her hand reaching to calm the girl. “You’re mistaken. Lillian isn’t—”

  “I can't read it, but I'm not stupid!” Alira snapped, slapping away the approaching hand. “It's blood. It's in her blood! They killed her!”

  “Alira.” Professor Daw’s voice cut through. Alira choked as her breath caught. Her lips quivering as she tried not to blink to fight against her tears. “Listen to me. Lillian is not dead.”

  “But—”

  “No. Lillian is still alive. I promise you that,” Professor Daw paused to ensure Alira was still listening. “The people who attacked last week took her. This is the language they use,” she said, holding the paper up. “They did say they would kill her, but they wouldn’t. I promise. They need leverage against the Academy and the headmaster. They will keep her alive for a long time to get what they want. We have to get to her before that.”

  “We will get to her,” Cecilia said. It wasn’t a promise. She was simply stating a fact. “They wrote this in her blood, confident that we can’t trace it to them. It’s an invitation. The Academy is young to them, but we aren’t weak.”

  Professor Daw nodded. “Yes. But I need you to tell us everything.”

  “The sewer.” Alira coughed out. “While we were walking through the market, I heard some people say that people who go there never return. Some stupid ghost story. I suggest we check it out for fun. Lillian refused, saying it's beneath her.”

  Alira bit on her lips hard enough to draw blood. Cecilia hurried to bring out a handkerchief, but Professor Daw stopped her. The professor shook her head, and despite their position, Cecilia knew better to listen to her. The woman was once her professor, too, after all.

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  “It pissed me off. So, I kept provoking her. Then we just went to bed. But it must have gotten to her because when I woke up, she was gone. I looked for her the entire night in the sewer. That letter with strange symbols drawn in blood was all I found.”

  Cecilia nodded. “They didn't kill her, I promise. Their target is the Academy. Did they take Raine as well?”

  “Raine?” Alira asked as if she had mostly forgotten about him. “No. He left by himself on Saturday. He said he would go back to the Academy on his own. Isn't he back yet?

  “No.” Professor Daw answered.

  “I see...” Alira said. She didn’t seem to be taken aback by it at all. “Either way, he should be fine. It's Lillain—”

  Cecilia frowned. “What makes you so sure that Raine’s alright. Leaving alone, he could have been targeted as well.”

  Alira shook her head. She dug out the necklace around her neck from beneath her shirt, an old ring hanging from it. “He gave me this. An artifact. To let me know if he’s in danger and needs help.”

  +++

  Alira closed the door behind her, shutting away the hushed words of the two inside Professor Daw’s office. Maria, who was squatting right beside the door, sprang up to her feet upon seeing her.

  “How did it go, miss?” Maria asked softly, mostly because she couldn’t stop herself. Alira hadn’t said a word to her or anyone until a moment ago, so Maria likely had no real hope of a reply from her.

  “It’s alright, now. I thought Lillian was... But, thankfully, she’s still alive,” Alira said, her voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. Even breathing was a struggle. An invisible lump seemed to be stuck in her chest, pressing down on her heart. She had gathered herself mentally, but the physical strain lingered.

  “Go to class.” Knowing Maria would disagree, Alira added, “I want to rest. Alone.”

  “Miss...”

  Alira turned her back. “Please.”

  Maria didn’t say anything. She followed Alira back to their shared bedroom, scrambling to open the door for her, but didn’t follow inside. Alira was glad to know that Maria still had a tiniest bit of trust in her despite everything.

  “Remember to bring me lunch,” Alira said to reassure the girl. “I need to keep myself alive to apologize to her, but I don’t want to be in a crowd for a while.”

  “Yes!” Maria nodded frantically. “Have a good rest, miss.”

  Alira could hear her hurried footsteps inching further away until they completely faded away. She must be running late for class.

  { Why? }

  Alira would have groaned if she still had the energy to. It should be night for him, so she could only hope he gave up and went to sleep instead. She practically crawled toward bed, throwing herself into its embrace.

  { Why did you do that— }

  “Because.” Alira sighed. He just wouldn’t plan to quit, would he?

  “Obviously, I can’t let them know we went down there in the cultist base. I’m not trying to get expelled. At least not yet,” Alira twisted her sole body, mingling herself into the soft, cold sheet. The candles blinked on the chandelier above her, lighting up the otherwise dark room with the curtains pulled down.

  { You’re so sure your brother will cover for you? }

  Under the warm, orange light, Alira noticed her gloves, made of fine leather, were torn and scratched. It was easy to get rid of whatever remained on the wall after she transferred the words onto the paper.

  ‘The language the cultists used,’ Professor Daw’s words rang in her mind. Alira couldn’t describe the dread she felt when she heard that. English. The cultists wrote in English. In Earth’s language. She couldn’t deny the connection between the two worlds any longer. Not that she wanted to, if it meant she could use it to go back.

  { Asleep? }

  “No. Calix won’t say anything about it unless the duke asks. And the duke wants me to stay here so he has no reason to snitch to the Academy.”

  Though, unfortunately, Alira could imagine the surveillance on her was going to get much stricter. Maria had already gotten a whole lot clingier even before the duke had asked her to.

  Xia’s hearty laughter came through along with a click of an object, which Alira had figured out was a pipe. He tended to smoke every two days around this time. It must be all the smoking that had gotten to his brain for him to be snickering randomly.

  She wasn’t going to entertain him when she didn’t have to.

  [This Acting Soul of Staywes asks for Judgement,] Alira mumbled mindlessly.

  ※

  Character Name [Alira Ravon]

  Role

  Unreliable Narrator [Myth] (Unique)

  You are the final wall of Staywes, the Filter of all its tales. Your lies are their Truth.

  Role Aspects

  [???] y????o?u???-?s??h???o???u???l??d?-?n?o?t?-?b?e?-?s?e?e?i??n?g?-?t?h?i?s

  [Narrator’s Influence] You have great influence on them.

  [Narrate] Narrate a character in the same Scene as you are.

  [Curtains down] You may skip the Narrative for one Staywes day. <11/20>

  [Mirror] You may give the Narrator Role to someone in the same Scene and Camp as you are. <11/20>

  [Acting Prophet] Probability for fragmented visions of the future and the past to appear every twelve hours on every second Monday. {( 29% + 92% + 48% + 30%) . 1 Neutral: 49.75%}

  ※

  Alira didn’t blink at how her Acting Prophet aspect had changed again. She did directly tell Raine about it, though the reading part was the work of Narrate. It didn’t matter since she could take advantage of the fact that they couldn’t see anything related to her Role.

  One week from now, next Monday, I have almost a fifty percent chance for each of the visions.

  She was able to use both Curtains down and Mirror after they got to fifty. From her perspective, they seemed to have done nothing at all, but at least the numbers had updated for her to know that it did work.

  No matter how comforting the bed was and regardless of her drowsiness, Alira couldn’t bring herself to actually fall asleep. The Academy would, no doubt, do anything to find Lillian. She hoped the words displaced onto the letter would help.

  “It’s so quiet...”

  Alira draped her hand over her eyes to cover them, blocking the glare of the chandeliers. Her eyes were stinging so badly.

  Just then, a knock came at the door.

  It was time for the second play.