A waft of stale sweat and musty metal infiltrated Alex’s nostrils as she entered the deserted armoury. Blunted weapons, wrangled pieces of steel and sun-dried leather covered the walls from top to bottom.
She was returning the pieces of armour she had worn from their Waterwielding lesson prior. Their Master Garidion had devised a game called “Capture the Orb.” The match was played in the sector filled with a giant lake and consisted of two squadrons and two orbs. The gist of the game was for the squadrons to try to steal the other’s orb and bring it back to their side of the lake. The catch was the players were only permitted to use Waterwielding. Alex’s squadron lacked cohesion and leadership, and so, ultimately, they had lost. Alex hated losing.
Alex was in the middle of hanging up her chest plate on a set of hooks when Zudane’ emerged to her left. She had been the leader of the opposite squadron; the squadron that had made hers look like a herd of frantic, disorganized sheep fleeing from a pack of wolves. Alex wished Zudane’ had been their captain, but instead Garidion had elected a man named Terekon.
At first glance, Alex felt Terekon wouldn’t be fit leading a fantasy league team let alone their squadron. He was the stereotypical wannabe alpha male: walking with his arms out unnecessarily to the side as if he had imaginary lats, overflowing with arrogance, looking down his nose at his teammates as he addressed them.
Alex knew they had lost the game before it had commenced. Especially after Terekon had announced his “master plan,” which consisted of the squadron running in bullheadedly and hoping for the best.
Alex noticed Zudane’ had already changed out of her woollen undergarments and into the Academy’s regal blue surcoat. Before the Healers had gotten to her, her left cheek had become so swollen it looked like she was experiencing a life-threatening allergic reaction. Alex noticed she was all better now, though. Back to her flawless self.
“Good as new,” Alex remarked with a smile.
“Yes,” Zudane’ said, pursing her lips and clutching her cheek gently. “I was very fortunate compared to some of the other students.”
“What do you mean?” Alex asked as she undid the straps on her vambraces. Is she referring to Terekon? He was the only one who was seriously injured that she knew of. He dislocated his shoulder and broke a few ribs during the match. I guess bravery can’t solely shield your anatomy. But wait; didn’t she say “students” plural?
Zudane’ knitted her brow at Alex. “Hailsi have mercy; you don’t know?”
“No,” she said unsurely. “Am I supposed to?”
“You broke Jerrich’s jaw,” Zudane’ informed Alex, as she helped slide off one of her vambraces. “He can barely talk. Won’t be able to eat solid foods for a week . . . or so they are saying.”
Alex regarded Zudane’ with an alarmed expression, trying to work out who this Jerrich person was in her head. Could he have been one of the boys she had hit with the Water Whip Spell she’d learned from one of Taytora’s scrolls? The impact was enough to knock his helmet off so it wouldn’t have been much of a stretch to think she’d broken his jaw as well. She didn’t intend to hurt him; he had just blocked her path to the orb.
“Don’t look so shocked,” Zudane’ shrugged lazily. “It happens. They aren’t training us to crop fields or thread fabric. Mages uphold the peace in the Kingdom of Mist. It’s a necessity we are battle-hardened.”
“I need to go visit him,” Alex said in a panicked voice. “Tell him I’m sorry. I-I can’t believe . . . What wing is he in?”
“Relax, Tay,” Zudane’ said, fighting off a grin as she placed both hands on her shoulders and squeezed. “He would have done the same to you if he could. Besides, he’s not the type to hold grudges.” She slid off her second vambrace and threw it on top of a rack with the others. “How did you do that anyway?”
“I learned it from a scroll,” Alex said distantly, assuming she was talking about her Water Whip Spell. Her mind was still fixed on Jerrich.
“No one taught you?” Zudane’ asked, her exotic eyes scanning Alex’s.
“Sorry?”
“You learned from the scroll by yourself?”
Alex nodded.
“No master?”
“No master,” she echoed.
“Teach me,” Zudane’ demanded, her face deadly serious. “Teach me how to Waterwield like you. You understand the craft like no one else does. Even Master Garidion said so.”
“What are you talking about?” Alex asked. “Were you not just out there? My squadron lost. Badly.”
Zudane’ knitted her brow at her. “Tay, you were swatting away my squadron as if they were flies. Outcomes aside, you fought valiantly.”
Alex’s mind spun in confusion, Zudane’s request throwing her completely off guard. She was humbled Garidion would say that, but she only knew a handful of Spells and Zudane’ was treating her like she was some sort of expert Waterwielder.
“You taught Winstell,” Zudane’ pressed, sensing her hesitation. “He’s improved so much now he might actually make it past round two.”
Zudane’ smiled at Alex widely as if an idea had just come to her. “Teach me and I’ll teach you how to harness your Spirit. Only if you want to learn, of course,” she added on quickly.
This offer took Alex by surprise. Spiritwielding: her biggest weakness. And who better to be under the tutelage of than the person who everyone claimed to be the greatest Spiritwielding talent to have ever stepped foot into the academy? Who was she kidding? This proposition was too good to pass up.
Absentmindedly, Alex offered Zudane’ her pinkie finger. “You’ve got yourself a deal. But I must warn you, I’m not as good a Waterwielder as you think I am.”
Zudane’ looked down at her projected finger, frowning at it in confusion. “Is it broken?”
That was when Alex realized how weird the custom must have been to her. How some things that existed in her world could appear so foreign in Zudane’s eyes. It was just a habit she’d developed with Link whenever they came to an agreement about something. In their eyes, it was stronger than any pact. The Hunters never broke a pinkie promise.
“It’s a thing we do back in our village,” Alex said. “Sort of like a pact. All you do is wrap your same finger around mine and then it’s done.”
“So sort of like a blood pact? Without the blood?” Zudane’ asked, her frown deepening.
“Yes,” Alex chuckled. “A slightly less extreme version.”
“Orban,” Zudane’ said distastefully as she intertwined her finger around Alex’s. “The village with such strange customs.” She showed her teeth. “I’d very much like to visit there one day.”
Alex smiled at her goofily, watching her as she plucked a blunted sword from the nearest rack and twirled the weapon around her fingers with impeccable grace and dexterity.
Ever since that day in the corridors, Winstell, Zudane’, Phenetrest and Alex had practically merged into one group. Unfortunately, they weren’t all in the same classes, but that didn’t stop them from going out of their way to catch up in between lessons or at meals. Alex had named them the “Fantastic Four” which they all seemed ecstatic about. Little did they know she had ripped off the name from Marvel.
To Alex, Zudane’ was like the big tomboyish sister she never had but always wanted. Phen was the wisecracking goofball of the group that didn’t know when to stop talking, and Winstell was the withdrawn know-it-all who was so socially awkward it was almost too adorable. And within the Fantastic Four, Alex had never felt more accepted in her entire life.
“Just out of curiosity,” Alex said. “Why do you want to strengthen your Waterwielding when your Spiritwielding is so good? I mean, when you saved Winstell that day in the corridors you didn’t even break a sweat. That Ward you projected was the size of a door.”
“Do you know how many known branches of magic there are?” Zudane’ asked Alex placidly, as she performed a flawless shoulder strike followed by a leg.
“Forty-nine,” Alex replied methodically.
Being the author of your own book certainly has its perks, she thought.
“Hailsi, I did not expect you to answer that,” Zudane’ said, astounded, then her face turned serious as she continued to swing her sword. “Yes, forty-nine. And I want to learn them all. Every last Chain, every last Spell, every last Branch of magic.” She smirked at Alex as she added on, “Buddy.”
Before Alex could open her mouth, she answered her question.
“Winstell,” Zudane’ said, chuckling. And that was all the explanation she needed.
****
The bell chimed loudly from the tower to Alex’s left as she paced down the gravelled pathway. She was late. And as a result, she had made these unlikely scenarios in her head about the different ways her swordplay Master Nenwir would punish her tardiness.
Hanging her up from the roof and letting the students wail on her like a piñata was her most imaginative one yet. But even she knew Master Nenwir wasn’t that maniacal. Alex figured he’d probably just pit her against three students at once during sparring as punishment. She could live with that. She had taken on two opponents simultaneously before. She didn’t win, but she had kept them both at bay.
Zudane’ was to blame for her tardiness. Her, and the fact Alex was too polite for her own good. Zudane’ was in the Advanced Swordplay class, as well as Link and Lioden, so after Waterwielding was finished, she generally had a free period. Which meant after their class had dropped off their items at the armoury, she had nowhere to be and had all the time in the world to chit chat.
Gossiping was new to Alex, so most of the conversation was spent with her nodding, waiting for the perfect opportunity to butt in and tell her how late she was running. But the opportunity never came. Turned out Zudane’ had this uncanny ability where she could talk without having to take a breath.
“I like your thinking,” Lioden’s musical voice sounded from Alex’s right. “Perfect weather for a brisk walk.” His long legs were catching up with her quick strides effortlessly, his head lulled back as he looked admirably up at the sky.
Even though they were in the same Waterwielding class, aside from the occasional awkward stare, Alex and Lioden hadn’t really interacted with one another since she had been enrolled. But of course, that might have had something to do with the fact that he thought she and Link were an item. Pause to vomit in mouth.
If only there were some way she could have told him without having to speak to him. Alex knew it was childish, but she literally couldn’t string together a coherent sentence when she was around him. She had tried to talk to him in the lesson beforehand, prior to their squadron being butchered by Zudane’s, but even her thoughts seemed to get scrambled in his presence.
Alex was stuck in an awkward position. She wanted Lioden to talk to her, but at the same time, she was in a rush to get to her lesson. Be late to class, or talk with the cute boy? Never had she been so conflicted.
“Can you walk and talk?” she asked, hoping she could kill two birds with one stone. “I’m kind of running late.”
“Certainly, I’ll walk you to your lesson,” he replied, dropping his gaze from the sky to face her.
Immediately Alex realized there was no trace of the nasty cut that was above his eyebrow. Those Healers really are something. If only they could mend broken bones as easily as flesh wounds. Poor Jerrich.
“I’m still trying to determine how best to repay you,” Lioden said.
“For what?” Alex asked, although she was pretty sure he was talking about saving him from the pellet of water Zudane’ had pegged at his head. Alex had tackled him to the ground in the nick of time. The Spell had soared harmlessly above them.
“For keeping this on my shoulders,” Lioden said with a cheeky smile, gesturing to his face.
“Well, in your case, being headless certainly would have been an improvement,” Alex said coyly.
Lioden straightened the collar of his sky-blue jerkin and then stared down at the gravel beneath his feet, a wounded expression covering his face. “Apologies. My ordinary features must not suit your requirements in a man.”
Alex felt a pang of guilt. Lioden must have been comparing himself to Link because he still thought they were together. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry . . . It was just an ill-tasted joke.”
“As was mine, it seems,” Lioden said, lifting his head up and smiling wryly.
And that’s when Alex realized she’d met her match in the sarcasm department.
Alex figured as they were on the subject, it was a perfect time to clear the air. “Umm, just so you know, Deonis isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” Lioden asked quizzically.
Damn it, she thought. What expression would Lioden be most familiar with?
“He’s not my lover,” Alex ended up electing. “He’s my . . . ” She let out a nervous sigh. “He’s actually my brother.”
“And I thought I was the singer,” Lioden remarked with a smirk. “Nice rhyming. But I’m afraid Winstell already beat you to it. He informed me this morning. Extremely protective brother I gather?”
Alex bit her bottom lip to stop the smile. “You honestly have no idea.”
Wordlessly, they both stepped off the gravelled pathway and then onto a cobbled one that lead directly to Baylor’s feet. The silence continued to grow as they passed sandy dunes dipping and rising like small hills to their left, and row upon row of charred and headless straw dummies to their right. And still, Lioden didn’t so much as cough.
Maybe it was up to her to break the silence? Alex panicked as she thought about what she could have possibly said. She had never been good at small talk. It was the first time she had ever spoken to him; they had no common ground at all, and Lioden had already commented on the weather.
Damn it, Alex, this silence has dragged on for too long, just say the first thing that pops into your head!
“I like your voice,” Alex blurted, immediately wishing she could travel back in time and slap herself in the face before she said that again.
“You do?” Lioden laughed enchantingly, looking at her genuinely surprised.
There’s no going back now. Commit.
“Well, I mean, yeah. The lyrics were a bit depressing but your voice, well . . . Well, your voice is kind of amazing.”
“Thank you,” Lioden said with a wide smile. “Although in my defence, it’s hard to put a cheerful spin on two of the greatest mages duelling for their Kingdom’s freedom and longevity.”
“You really take pride in your singing, don’t you?”
“Yes, Taytora,” Lioden said, smiling. “I really, really do.”
“Ah, so you found out my name?”
“Among other things,” he said. “That’s probably the only benefit of being the Coinskeeper’s son. He has webs everywhere.”
“I don’t know if I should be concerned for my wellbeing,” Alex teased.
“With an overprotective brother like yours, I wouldn’t be.”
Alex clenched her jaw, desperately trying to suppress the giggle that was bubbling up to the surface. She was nowhere near comfortable enough to laugh around him yet. Link once described it as a hyena’s cackle after inhaling a balloon full of helium. And she was certain that was him holding back.
As Alex and Lioden approached Baylor’s stone ankle, they passed a group of giggling girls. They all nudged one another as Lioden passed, their eyes stuck to him like caramel on teeth. When the girls spotted Alex by his side, those looks of lust turned into confusion.
Lioden briefly rested his hand on the small of Alex’s back as they stepped through the castle doors. The girls were now glaring. Did he do that intentionally because he knew they were watching? Alex would never know.
The agonizing silence they experienced before seemed to rear its head again as they climbed the flights of steps to her Swordplay class. Alex’s lips were sealed. It was his turn to break it now. She wasn’t going to blurt out a stupid compliment this time. She had learned her lesson the hard way.
“I like your hair,” Lioden said, casting a sideways glance at her lion's mane.
“What?” she asked, thinking she must’ve misinterpreted him.
“You said you liked my voice,” Lioden explained as they reached the doors to her Swordplay lesson. “I like your hair.”
“Thanks,” Alex said, then she didn’t know what came over her, but it happened. She let out the dreaded, ear deafening hyena cackle. “I’m sorry,” she said, holding a hand over her mouth as if it was an involuntary action.
“For what?” Lioden asked, looking completely natural.
He must be trying not to hurt my feelings, she thought.
“My laugh,” Alex said. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t hear it. It sounds like a gorlac’s squeal.”
“That?” Lioden said as he pushed the double door outwards and entered the room. “That was nothing; wait until you hear mine.” And the way he said it so convincingly made Alex think he was actually telling the truth.
Lioden walked across the chamber, heading directly for Master Nenwir who was in the middle of demonstrating the correct body position for a downward thrust. Is this kid insane? He’s going to get me killed.
“Sorry to intrude on your lesson, Master Nenwir,” Lioden said, smiling broadly. “But I was just borrowing Taytora for a moment.” He gestured to Alex lurking by the doorway. “She was teaching me the finer points of Waterwielding.”
That threw Alex’s blending in with the class plan out the window. Now it seemed she was about to face the full wrath of Nenwir. Students could barely sneeze in his presence without receiving a scorning. As Alex looked at Nenwir’s startled expression, she was starting to think her piñata idea wasn’t too extreme after all.
The whole class had paused, frozen as they all looked at their master expectantly, waiting to see how her tardiness would be dealt with. All except for Winstell, who was glaring at Alex in a mix of anger and confusion. Anger as to why she was so late, and confusion as to why Lioden was with her, Alex figured.
But uncharacteristically, Nenwir’s leathery face softened, and were Alex’s eyes deceiving her or was he smiling?
“Ah, Lioden, my dear boy,” Nenwir said in a gentle, unfamiliar voice Alex had never heard. “What an unexpected surprise.” He beckoned Lioden closer with a hand. “Come forth, come forth. Now this, class, is one of the finest swordsmen I have ever had the privilege of teaching.” Nenwir wrapped an arm around Lioden’s shoulder admirably, like a proud father would his son. Nenwir’s intelligent blue eyes looked as if they were sparkling with tears of joy. Alex was struggling to process what had just taken place. Did Nenwir have a second personality she didn’t know about? Who was this impostor?
“Sharper than a blade fresh off the grindstone,” Nenwir continued as he patted Lioden firmly on the shoulder. “Sturdier than a stout ox—Taytora, would you fall into the back of the class, please?—Quicker than a gorlac at full stride . . . .”
Alex quickly grabbed a sword from the racks and fell into place behind Winstell and Phen. Winstell immediately spun around and shot her a “Why were you hanging out with my older brother?” look.
“I’ll explain later,” Alex mumbled under her breath. Winstell didn’t seem too overjoyed with her answer. He raised his eyebrows and mumbled something to Phenetrest. Alex wondered what he was getting so upset about. Lioden was just walking her to class.
Through a gap in the students in front of her, Alex managed to see Nenwir offering Lioden the hilt of his wooden sword.
“My boy, if you would be so kind,” Nenwir practically purred. “Would you please demonstrate a downward thrust for the class?”
“Master, with all due respect, I- I-” Lioden stuttered, struggling to find a permissible excuse.
“You have a free lesson, do you not?” Nenwir asked, the skin of his forehead wrinkling as he frowned.
Lioden pursed his lips and took the weapon from Nenwir’s clutches in defeat.
“Ah, sensational!” Nenwir exclaimed as soon as the sword had touched Lioden’s hands. “Observe, students; observe. Look at the way Lioden grips the sword. Not too tight, nor too rigid, neither delicate nor flimsy—just the perfect balance of both control and assuredness.”
And so, the comical lesson continued. Nenwir sent flurries of compliments at Lioden each time he executed a strike or stance, and Lioden deflected them all with his genuine humility. Alex found it hard to keep from guffawing the whole lesson.
Nenwir dismissed Lioden towards the end of the class and then split the students into two groups for sparring to practice the strikes and stances they had just observed.
Before Link had been moved into the advanced class, he used to be so good he’d have to pair up with Nenwir just for some competition. Which meant Alex and Winstell were partners most the time. But that day, Alex found Winstell wanted nothing to do with her. As she walked towards him, he had hurriedly grabbed Phen by the elbow and moved to the other side of the chamber, leaving her partnerless.
****
Thanks to Nenwir, the flight of stairs Alex now walked up felt as if she was scaling Mt Hargul. Every surge of pain reminded her of a time he had slipped past her defences and swatted her with the edge of his wooden sword. But as he so eloquently put it, “every single bruise is a lesson in itself.”
Thanks to Winstell, Alex had no one to pair up with, which meant she had to go toe-to-toe with the Swordplay master himself. She now understood why Link complained so much after each sparring session with him.
By the time Alex reached her chamber, she could have practically collapsed onto the stone ground and slept like a baby—if it weren’t for all her roommate's mess on the floor. She still didn’t know her real name. The students referred to her as “Skemptra,” which Alex was told was a spine-tingling make-believe beast in Nocera that slithered out at night and planted nightmares in children's brains. And the worst part was that’s what the Masters referred to her by as well. Skemptra was in Basic Swordplay and Spiritwielding with Alex, but besides that, she didn’t know anything about her.
Skemptra sat on the edge of her bed, eying Alex off as she undressed from her jerkin and slipped into some comfy woollen clothes. If she were in the real world, Alex would have been so uncomfortable changing in front of a stranger. But in Nocera, public nudity was as common as a tavern brawl. She once saw Zudane’ change in front of their class after a Waterwielding lesson, baring her breasts and all. Not one male student looked her way or even batted an eyelid. Alex’s jaw had nearly hit the ground in disbelief.
Alex nestled her body underneath her woollen blanket and then pulled it to her chin. It itched more than her auntie’s fleece jumpers she sent every year at Christmas. Alex figured it must have slipped her mind that their family lived in one of the hottest cities in America. Either that or she just wanted to show off how insane her knitting skills were.
Alex’s roommate was still staring, but she had become accustomed to her weird habits and relentless eye contact. Alex had soon realized that no matter what, she’d never venture over to Alex’s side of the room. And besides, from that day Alex had stupidly tried to introduce herself, she had also stayed well away from her roommate’s side. It was mutual toleration.
“Sweet dreams,” Alex said, even though she knew very well the girl they called Skemptra never slept.
“Sleep well, Taytora,” she hissed back softly.
But Alex didn’t. No matter how heavy her eyelids were or how exhausted her body was, sleep seemed to elude her. She kept replaying her encounter with the chivalrous Lioden. Her cheeks hurt from smiling when she thought about his dry comments, witty banter, and how he gallantly sacrificed himself and saved her from the wrath of Nenwir, probably knowing full well he’d be roped into executing strikes and stances in front of the class.
With so many distractions around her, it had been so easy to forget the tournament was only in two months’ time, even though Link had constantly been in her ear about solving the riddle before the first round commenced. He figured if they solved it ASAP, then they could devote their time to formulating a plan to take down the serpent, studying his/her strengths and weakness, different Spells, their battle tendencies and patterns and such.
Alex thought Link was going about it the wrong way. They couldn’t just completely forget about the rest of the competition. Zudane’ the Spiritwielding whiz, Daedrox the gigantic freak of nature, Lioden the teleporting master and Swordplay extraordinaire.
Alex’s plan—which she felt was pure genius—was to focus on their own training, devoting themselves one hundred and ten percent to their craft. Spying on every other student was taking up too much of their time. Unless they found out who the serpent was quick-smart, it wasn’t like they could keep tabs on every single student at the academy.
Link was too stubborn to take her plan under consideration, though. Alex believed her brother could stand under a storm cloud while he was soaked to the bone and still argue with you it wasn’t raining.
If only stupid Xavier hadn’t given us this stupid riddle, she thought. Why couldn’t he have given us a crossword or something? I’m good at those.
“If unmasking Xavier’s character is all you seek, unravel the serpent before things get bleak.”
It was so ambiguous to her that it was infuriating. If they were talking about looks then the student would ideally be of a slender build, possibly have bright yellow eyes and a forked and wayward tongue.
No, that would be way too obvious, she thought. Maybe something subtler? Maybe it has nothing to do with appearances. Maybe it’s their behaviour?
Alex sprung up from her bed and glanced over at Skemptra on the other side of the chamber, the hair prickling on the back of her neck. She was still gazing at Alex, unmoved from the last time she saw her. Her empty eyes shimmered in the pale moonlight streaming through the window; her smile so crooked it was almost diagonal.
Skemptra, the girl who was named after a slithering, make-believe creature, the girl who hissed when she spoke, the girl who ate rats instead of sausages and pastries in the Great Hall. Xavier couldn’t have made it more obvious than if he had painted “serpent” on her forehead. Had that madman roomed her with the most powerful student in the academy? The very character he had created?