The First Choice
Three months after the first expedition - Winter's End Academy
The thin snow was beginning to melt around the academy, but the air was still cold as Carsel performed his daily morning routine, which had become a nightmare. Four months of systematic abuse had fundamentally changed something within him—not just how he saw the world, but how he responded to it.
That morning, while cleaning Ruby Dormitory, he overheard a conversation that would change everything.
"I heard Timothy Brown's family is struggling to pay tuition," one Ruby student whispered to her friend. "His father lost his job, and they might have to withdraw him from the academy."
"That's terrible," her friend replied. "Timothy's such a nice kid. Always helping others with homework."
Carsel knew Timothy—a shy boy from Emerald Dormitory who was indeed always kind to everyone. One of the few students who never treated him with open hostility.
"I heard Prince Aldric is considering 'sponsoring' Timothy's education," the first student continued in an odd tone.
"Really? That's... generous of him."
"Yeah, but there are strings attached. Timothy would have to... serve as Prince Aldric's personal assistant. All kinds of menial tasks."
Another victim, Carsel thought with something that should have been sympathy but felt more like... an opportunity.
That day, when Carsel was cleaning the training grounds, he saw Timothy practicing alone with equipment that was clearly second-hand and barely functional. The boy moved with the desperation of someone who knew he might not be able to afford to stay much longer.
He's desperate, Carsel observed with a mind that was increasingly calculating. Desperate people make choices they normally wouldn't make.
Prince Aldric appeared with perfect timing—a clearly orchestrated encounter.
"Timothy," Prince Aldric said with a deceptively warm smile. "I heard about your family's... situation."
Timothy immediately tensed. "Your Highness, I... we'll figure something out."
"I'm sure you will," Prince Aldric said. "But maybe I could help. I'm looking for a personal assistant—someone reliable, hardworking, grateful for opportunities."
The offer hung in the air like bait on a hook.
"What would... what would I need to do?" Timothy asked in a voice barely above a whisper.
"Oh, simple things. Maintain my equipment, organize my schedule, handle correspondence. And occasional... special tasks when the situation requires."
Carsel, pretending to focus on his cleaning, knew exactly what "special tasks" meant. He had become an expert at reading subtext from months of royal manipulation.
He's going to make Timothy into another victim. Another tool for his entertainment.
And then, something shifted in Carsel's mind. Not sympathy for Timothy, but... calculation.
Why should I warn him? The world never warned me about the dangers that were coming. Every man for himself, right?
Besides... if Timothy becomes Prince Aldric's new toy, maybe the pressure on me will decrease.
The thought should have horrified him. Four months ago, it would have. But now...
This is how the world works. Someone always has to suffer. Why should it always be me?
That evening, as Carsel lay in his bed reflecting on the day's events, he found himself engaging in an internal dialogue that would have been alien to his former self.
Timothy is going to accept Prince Aldric's offer, he thought with certainty. Because when you're desperate, you don't have the luxury of moral choices. You take what you can get and hope for the best.
That's what I learned. This world doesn't bend to our will. It doesn't care about our dreams or our pain or our good intentions. It only respects power and fear.
I spent months trying to be a good person, trying to accept punishment, trying to earn forgiveness. And what did it get me? More suffering. More humiliation. More people treating me like I'm less than human.
Kindness is a luxury only the strong can afford. Weak people like me don't get to be kind—we get to be victims or survivors. And I'm tired of being a victim.
The logic felt airtight, unassailable. Months of systematic cruelty had created a framework where selfishness didn't just make sense—it felt like a.....
If I don't look out for myself, who will? If I don't take opportunities when they arise, I'll spend the rest of my life cleaning toilets and being human bait.
Timothy made his choice when he decided to be naive. I'm making mine when I decide to be smart.
The next day presented the perfect opportunity to put his plan into practice. Carsel was cleaning the library when he overheard Timothy talking with a friend about his dilemma.
"I don't know what to do," Timothy was saying, his voice full of anxiety. "My family really needs the money, but something about Prince Aldric's offer feels... wrong."
"Maybe you should ask around," his friend suggested. "See if anyone knows what working for him actually entails."
"That's a good idea," Timothy said. "Maybe I'll ask some of the senior students who have interacted with him."
He's going to find out, Carsel realized. Someone will warn him about what Prince Aldric is really like, and he'll decline the offer. And then Prince Aldric will be frustrated and take it out on... me.
In that moment, Carsel made the first truly evil choice of his life. Not an accident, not a mistake in judgment—a deliberate, calculated cruelty.
He approached Timothy with an expression carefully crafted to show concern.
"Timothy," he said in a voice that sounded genuinely worried. "I heard about Prince Aldric's offer. I think... I think you should take it."
Timothy looked surprised to hear from Carsel—most students avoided him completely.
"Really? You think so?"
"Absolutely," Carsel said, every word carefully chosen. "I've... observed Prince Aldric for months now. He's demanding, yes, but he's fair. And he rewards loyalty with real opportunities."
Lies, whispered a part of his conscience that was rapidly dying. You know exactly what Prince Aldric will do to him.
So what? answered the darker part that was growing stronger. Timothy's suffering isn't my responsibility. My survival is.
"I was worried about rumors," Timothy said, relief visible in his voice. "But if you think he's legitimate..."
"Trust me," Carsel said with a smile that felt like wearing a mask. "This could be exactly what your family needs."
Within a week, Timothy had accepted Prince Aldric's offer and begun serving as a personal assistant. And just as Carsel had predicted, it quickly became clear that the position involved far more humiliation and abuse than Timothy had expected.
Carsel watched from a distance as Timothy was forced to carry Prince Aldric's books, shine his shoes, and endure constant verbal abuse from the royal entourage. He watched as the cheerful, helpful boy gradually became a nervous, withdrawn shadow of his former self.
And felt... nothing.
No guilt, no remorse, no regret. If anything, he felt vindicated. This is how the world works. I learned the lesson the hard way, now Timothy is learning it his way. At least I didn't have to be the one teaching him.
Besides, he reasoned with logic that felt unshakeable, this is character-building for him. Suffering makes you stronger, right? Isn't that what everyone told me?
Prince Aldric, with a perceptiveness that made him particularly dangerous, soon noticed a shift in Carsel's demeanor.
"You seem... different lately, Nightshade," he observed during one of their regular 'supervision' sessions. "Less... pathetic. More... calculating."
"I'm learning," Carsel replied in a tone that held no warmth but also no fear. "You taught me well, Your Highness."
"Did I now?" Prince Aldric's smile became genuinely interested for the first time. "And what exactly did I teach you?"
Carsel met his gaze directly—something he wouldn't have dared do months ago.
"That power is the only thing that matters. That sentiment is weakness. That to survive, you must be willing to sacrifice others before they sacrifice you."
"Interesting," Prince Aldric murmured. "And do you... approve of these lessons?"
"I understand them," Carsel said in a steady, cold voice. "Understanding is more useful than approval."
Prince Aldric laughed—a genuine laughter that held a note of... approval?
"You know, Nightshade, you might actually survive this academy after all. Most students break completely under the pressure I apply. But you... you're adapting."
Adapting. The word felt like a compliment and a curse simultaneously.
Kael's Growing Concern
Kael, who had finally recovered enough to return to regular classes, immediately noticed changes in his friend's behavior.
"Carsel," he said during one of their rare private conversations, "you seem... different. Harder."
"Stronger," Carsel corrected. "I've learned to see the world as it really is, not as I wish it could be."
"And how is the world, really?"
Carsel was quiet for a long moment, staring out the window with an expression that would have been unrecognizable to Elena, Gareth, or Sage.
"Cruel," he said finally. "Unfair. Driven by power and fear rather than justice or kindness. A place where good intentions are punished and selfishness is rewarded."
"That sounds like a very dark way to view things," Kael said with concern.
"Dark, maybe. But accurate." Carsel turned to face his friend with eyes that held something cold and distant. "Tell me, Kael—in all the months I've been suffering here, how many people have tried to genuinely help me? How many have shown me real kindness without an ulterior motive?"
Kael opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. Because the honest answer was an uncomfortable one.
"I... you have a point," he admitted reluctantly. "People have been cruel. But that doesn't mean—"
"That doesn't mean what? That I should continue to be naive? Continue to believe in the goodness of humanity while humanity shows me exactly how little it values compassion?"
"It means you shouldn't let their cruelty change who you are," Kael said with quiet desperation. "If you become like them, then they've truly won."
Carsel considered this, then shook his head with something that might have been pity.
"You still don't understand, do you? They already won, Kael. They won the moment they decided to systematically destroy me instead of helping me learn from my mistake. They won when they chose revenge over rehabilitation."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"All I'm doing now is refusing to continue being a victim. If that makes me like them... well, maybe being like them is better than being like me was."
That night, Carsel had a conversation with himself that would mark a point of no return for his moral development.
Kael thinks I'm becoming a monster, he reflected without particular distress. Maybe I am. But monsters survive. Monsters get respected. Monsters don't spend their mornings cleaning other people's filth or their afternoons being human bait for entertainment.
The world taught me a valuable lesson: justice is just revenge with better public relations. Morality is just weakness with a prettier name. And kindness is just stupidity with social approval.
I tried their way—accepting punishment, showing remorse, trying to earn forgiveness. Where did it get me? More punishment, more humiliation, more suffering.
Now I'll try my way. I'll be smart instead of kind. Strategic instead of sentimental. Self-interested instead of self-sacrificing.
And if that makes me a villain in their story... well, maybe villains have the right idea after all.
Maybe the world deserves villains. Maybe people who create monsters don't get to complain when those monsters turn around and bite them.
Maybe it's time to stop apologizing for my existence and start making others justify theirs.
The thought felt liberating in a way that should have been terrifying. But fear, like guilt and empathy, was becoming a luxury Carsel could no longer afford.
Let them call me a monster, he decided with a finality that marked the end of one Carsel and the birth of another. Monsters don't clean toilets. Monsters don't get used as human bait. Monsters don't beg for forgiveness for crimes they committed trying to help people.
Monsters get feared. And fear, I'm learning, is just another word for respect.
In the darkness of Onyx Dormitory, surrounded by other outcasts and misfits, Carsel Nightshade made peace with what he was becoming.
And the world, which had worked so hard to break him, would soon discover that broken people don't always stay broken.
Sometimes, they evolve.
Sometimes, they become something far more dangerous than anything that broke them in the first place.
To be continued...