I rise before dawn.
With my worn cloak and makeshift mask, I use little energy concealing myself under the cover of darkness. No one is out to hide from.
On Dim island, I cannot disable the watch. I'll be flagged if I take it off, and the consequences for being caught in the act are far too great for me to take. I'll leave a trace. But at least the information will stay with the Dim.
I doubt Leara has the internal connections necessary to compromise my anonymity. You cannot cheat the Dim.
The cobblestone paths are pristine, lined with perfectly trimmed hedges, trees, and common flowers. In the near distance, I can see the tram tracks that quickly connect the dormitories, the campus, and the commercial district, along with other facilities.
Far from the tracks, lording over the first-year's lower dormitory is the first-year upper dormitory. Very self-explanatory. It's a massive building of grotesque opulence atop a hill overlooking the lower dormitory reserved for the top 50 ranked students.
Leara is ranked second, of course, to the golden child, Alexander Landeskog—the top 50 sleep in these massive apartment-style rooms that dwarf my own in downtown Columbia.
It won't be long before I reside here as well.
I open the supposed-to-be-locked front door. The night prior, I waited for every single student to return to the upper dormitory, then stuffed the latch bore with fabric before the doors locked for good. Thankfully, there isn't a curfew for the next month, but the timed, automated locking remained the same. I avoided a fine then.
I don't avoid this trespassing fine, however. My watch vibrates in protest, but I ignore it.
I skipped the elevator and elected to walk the five stories to room 502.
It's dead silent. I'm in the clear.
I slip a plain white letter underneath Leara Mateiko's door.
It reads:
I know the location of the Crystallized Essence Pool.
The only thing I ask for in exchange is a Confidential Excursion Pass.
We will meet atop Water's Edge on the east side of the island at 19:00. You will come alone. Walk with the pass visibly in hand and sit on the bench closest to the waterfall.
If you do not arrive at the bench on time, do not show the Excursion Pass, or otherwise deviate from my instructions whatsoever, the deal is off.
If our deal is off, I will go to the Blackwoods, then Stamkos, and the Drydales with the location.
I have a mountain of sensitive information on the Landeskogs. Should you choose to concede this initial leap of faith, we may enter a partnership and exchange in looser circumstances.
Your friend,
Darrow
***
At 18:55, my fearful heart metronomes to the chilled air's melody and the bass of running water throwing itself thousands of feet off the floating island and into an abyssal ocean infested with monsters.
I fear my letter was too forthcoming, not alluring enough. I fear that I've misjudged her character. I fear that I'm a fool, in over my head, drowning between facades.
I am terrified of failure. But deep down, I know that I won't. I cannot.
On the horizon, the low crimson semi-circle of a sun bathes the earth and sky red.
Minutes later, my heart nearly stops at the first sign of movement. I watch from the depths of a tree canopy, frozen.
Her face is chiseled to perfection. Soft, yet angular. A lean yet robust build. Tall, nearly eye level with me. She walks high. Authoritatively so. The black and red uniform Dim uniform fits perfectly. Expensive third-party tailoring.
Her hair is wavy and a deep shade of wine. Black and purple, like the lusterous nape of a raven. It gently sways with each step
Infectiously beautiful. I can hardly tear my eyes away. Fortunately, my lifetime of grievances with Humanity is not so easily duped by a pretty face.
In her right hand is an obsidian tablet; without a doubt, an authentic Excursion pass.
Leara Mateiko sits down at the bench closest to the waterfall at exactly 19:00 hours.
And I am absolutely elated.
***
Leara hears the crunching of leaves from behind as I approach, but her eyes do not peel away from the distant, fading sunset.
I stand next to the bench, hands hidden behind my back, separated by several feet. She turns to meet my masked eyes.
"So?" Her voice is smooth and devilishly sweet. It's unnerving. Straight to business, then.
"The pass."
"No."
The fuck? "No pass, no information. It's quite simple."
"I have no reason to believe the credibility of your information."
"Yet you came anyway."
She lets my comment linger in the air for far too long. Off-beat, she speaks.
"Male. Roughly 185 centimeters. Dim student. First-year. Lower nobility and tight on money. Resourceful, since you snuck into the upper dorm yourself to deliver the letter. Ballsy, since you think you can negotiate with me, Darrow."
"Ballsy enough to see past your empty threat," I scoff. "You have two paths, then. Sure, you can profile me, investigate me, uncover who I am, even torture me to death. But what will Daddy think when you kill a Dim student with Landeskog connections?"
My profile was right. That bluff made her crack. A single suppressed twitch in the lip.
She can't kill me regardless. So long as I'm at the Dim. You don't fuck with the Dim, after all. My best path is to make her believe in my worth. Being allies would be the best-case scenario.
My Endangered trait, strangely, gives me nothing. And because it gives me nothing, I'm immediately filled to the brim with a euphoric swell of confidence.
"Instead of throwing it all away," I continue. "You, the rich entitled girl you are, can give me that minuscule dent in your allowance. And in exchange—as a gesture of goodwill and hope for a future partnership—I lay a secret worth a hundred million Gold onto your lap."
Leara chuckles sincerely. Strange.
"I like that," her chuckle dies to a slight smile, then deadpan. "You respond to my 'empty' threat by digging deeper, more ridiculous hypotheticals. It's adorable."
'Prove it,' she's saying. My talk is nothing without the information, but my double-downing has thrown her for a loop. There's a chance I'm telling the truth. That my confidence isn't unfounded. And she wants to believe it.
I'll oblige, of course.