***
Zolir-day
The morning was cold and correct. I woke thirty minutes before breakfast, performed a breathing fixation, checked the linearity of my posture and the temperature of my extremities. No deviations. Catherine was already dressed; she was in no hurry, but she was not dawdling either. On the table lay her notebook, open, without any entries, only the date—"04.16.1748."
Another breakfast passed in the usual silence, but even in this silence, there were deviations. Catherine was watching too closely how I ate, and this was another sign of the changing structure within her. And it seemed that even the familiar whisper at the neighboring tables was less destructive than her current state.
After breakfast, Catherine and I headed to our Darkness magic lesson. In the second year, this subject was no longer taught by the elderly Magister Kirlena, but by a new magister, whose approach, they said, was completely different. For me, attendance remained a formality, but Catherine, despite her first-year experience, seemed to be expecting something conceptually new from these lessons.
We were walking to the south section of the west wings of the academy, where Darkness magic classes were traditionally held. The corridors in this segment were lower and narrower than in the main building. Light only penetrated through small arched windows. The air here was denser, as if the architecture itself absorbed the waves of light.
Although we were bothering no one, a student was walking behind us. It was Isa Lern, and she wasn't even trying to hide the fact that she was following. She did not approach, but she did not fall behind either, recording notes in her notebook with a magical quill. Only as we approached the classroom did Isa quickly retreat and disappear, as if she had been walking behind us by chance all this time, and at the last moment decided to go about her own business—utterly undisguised foolishness.
The classroom was on the ground floor. A heavy wooden door without any markings. We entered exactly one minute before the start. The hall was elongated, almost without decor. On the walls—faded reliefs. On the floor—an old but preserved dueling circle marking. The Darkness magic class created the right atmosphere for those interested in studying this aspect of the universe.
The professor did not introduce herself and did not greet us. She just went to the center and began to speak. Her voice was even, without overtones. She wore a mantle of an old model—with a collar up to her cheekbones and pauldrons of black leather. Her face was impassive, not reflecting any obvious emotions, and her gaze was fixed.
"Today's lesson will be theoretical; we will analyze the concept of the silent void," her voice became firmer. "The silent void is not something you can touch, but something you can realize, if you possess sufficient magical power."
Some students exchanged glances. In the next row, someone whispered, "That's Magister Elira. They say she was at the border when it happened… They whisper that the Gods of Dreams are returning."
The second answered even more quietly, excitedly, "Exactly! I heard it was like in the old legends: in the middle of the night, the sky above the border with Arzanir lit up, and in it—a huge eye! Just like in the time of the twin queens! They say it was their eye!"
"Moreover…" the first added, lowering her voice to the limit. "My father told me in secret that the official investigation yielded nothing… no human magic. As if… as if the queens' sacrifice had exhausted itself."
The discussion of the events on the Arzanir border… I had already witnessed the old man's stories of the "Red sky and the huge eye." At that time, this information had been classified by me as the ravings of a madman. It was ironic that it had turned out to be true. The Gods of Dreams… This variable requires separate calculations and additional caution in carrying out my mission.
The professor continued to speak, "To touch the silent void is possible, but it requires great practice, which we will begin to work on from the next lesson." She scanned the auditorium, and then added, "Only those who can suppress their own 'I' will be able to achieve success."
Catherine leaned toward me, sideways, so that the teacher would not notice. "You know, Arta, I have the impression that I have been communicating with this 'silent void' for a long time. I haven't felt any of the problems the magister is talking about," she whispered.
"Yes, that's right. We are engaged in serious practices, and not all of them can be learned easily," I answered her in the same whisper.
Catherine nodded, seeming to finally begin to understand how much more productive our lessons were than a conditional magic lesson at the academy.
The rest of the lesson continued without demonstrations. Only the magister's voice, the silence in the hall, and the slow, rhythmic steps of the teacher as she moved from one point of the circle to another. And in this slow geometry, the structure manifested itself more strongly than in any flash.
"Remember that behind the darkness, there is never true evil," the magister finished, casting a quick glance at me, as if trying to read my magical energy.
The students began to leave the hall one by one, and Catherine and I followed them.
***
Our steps with Catherine through the west building of the academy were unhurried, and only upon reaching the exit leading to the street did she turn to me.
"It seems we will say goodbye here for a while, right…?" she said in an almost sad voice. "I'm going to 'The Philosophy of Attachment.'"
I nodded.
"As you wish. I am going to magical duels in any case."
Catherine frowned.
"Are you sure it's worth it?…" she sighed.
"I am sure, but as I said, I will not go there constantly. Maybe when you gather your strength yourself, we will go more often, but together."
She tried to smile back, but it came out poorly.
"Arta…" she sighed. "You do know… that I will be worried, don't you?" she asked in an undertone. "As soon as I remember… how you were almost killed… I feel sick."
"That was a duel without rules. In class, duels are held in a simplified form," I parried, looking her directly in the eye, understanding that additional practice would only help her.
She shook her head.
"Arta, it's still dangerous. And don't you dare look at me with those violet eyes of yours as if the matter is already settled." Such a phrase was unusual for her speech; it was another alarming sign that her structure had cracked.
She looked at me for some time before saying, "Alright, Arta, I'm going. Take care of yourself." She cast one last look at me and walked on with a confident step down the academy corridors toward the central building.
"See you at lunch," I said after her. Perhaps this was the first lesson in a long time that we did not go to together.
I stood in the corridor for a few more minutes and then went to the dormitory to change into warm clothes and head to the very arena where we had recently had our duel with Nova Kross.
***
The arena was located in a hollow near the northern border of the academy, where the old road led to Lake Gremlak—the site of the Twin Queens' sacrifice. It had no roof, only snow-covered walls and a stone field marked with the faded lines of a circle. The snow here was not cleared: a crust crunched underfoot, and ice chips had accumulated at the edges. The cold was real, but not enough for me to experience physical discomfort.
The students who had come to the magical duels class were not sitting on the stone and frozen stands, covered with a layer of snow—they were just standing nearby, and some, the coldest of them, were wrapped in the academy's uniform capes. Everyone kept their distance: from both the magic and the words. There was no extra noise here, only the wind and the faint steam of breath.
At the entrance to the arena, Nova met me. She was surprised to see me here and smiled welcomingly.
"You also decided to go to the practical classes?" she asked, tilting her head slightly to the side. "I didn't think I'd see you here."
"It is a matter of practice. Besides, considering that I am a mage-guardian, I am simply obligated to be here," I replied, allowing myself a faint smile.
"Commendable, but you know, I don't think this will be of real interest to you. No risk, no meaning, just not very effective techniques." Suddenly, her gaze tensed.
Isolde, Brina, and Maelys were walking toward us, laughing about something among themselves.
"Arta, wait a minute."
Nova walked forward and stood before them.
"And what do you think is the reason I have stopped you?" she asked coldly.
"What do we care?" Isolde snapped. "What have we done to you? And we haven't touched your friend Ren," she said with a slight contempt.
"And I'm not talking about now. Do you remember the Duality Ball? Or have you already forgotten?"
"It was Reina's own fault! She should have watched where she was going," Maelys answered in a sharp and clear voice. "Just try to touch Brina!"
Isolde looked at Maelys, anticipating more problems.
"Listen, Kross, we didn't do anything on purpose. Let us pass already," Isolde took the lead.
Nova looked at Brina and shook her head.
"Brina, I am warning you personally: if Ren complains to me about you again, then, I promise, I will do to you everything that you did to her."
"Listen, Kross, you think you're stronger than us, and you can do anything?" Isolde took a step forward and stood between Nova and Brina. "Or do you think you'll always be stronger than us?" Her gaze flashed with malice.
"Veyn, am I not making myself clear?" Nova said, her voice dropping. "I stated my terms precisely."
"We didn't do anything. Your friend is to blame," Brina replied with a faint smirk.
Nova clenched her fists. I understood that I needed to intervene, and I approached.
"I think it's time to end this inefficient conversation. Classes will begin soon," I replied without any extra emotion, and all eyes turned to me.
"Uh-huh, Nova, listen to the Shadow from Tarvar. You might get smarter," Maelys muttered with a smirk.
"Alright, let's go already," Isolde looked at me and waved to her friends.
They went around Nova, and she did not stop them.
"Do you know why I intervened?" I asked Nova.
She turned her head toward me and looked coldly.
"For two reasons. First, that incident at the ball is over, thanks to Catherine. And second, you are behaving no better than they are. Do you enjoy tormenting them?" I asked calmly.
"No, you don't understand, Arta," she said, crossing her arms. "They have been tormenting Ren since the beginning of the first year."
"And why, I'm afraid to ask?" I calmly clarified, although I knew the reason perfectly well.
"Because…" Nova froze and narrowed her eyes. "Because Ren loves me…" she stopped.
This was not quite the truth, or rather, only partially true.
"Did you meet Ren at the beginning of the first year? I thought later," I clarified politely.
"Meeting Ren is a long and complicated story," Nova shook her head. "Perhaps I will tell you someday. But, to answer your question, Isolde did not get along with her from the first days, and when she formed her gang, Ren herself was already running to me for support."
"Is that so," I replied, feigning an interested reaction. "That explains a lot. But, as I said, that conflict is over. As for Ren, if you don't want to be her nanny forever, then she should at least learn to take care of herself minimally."
Nova sighed.
"I don't know, Arta, it's difficult. But I got the point. Perhaps, indeed, in an attempt to protect Ren, I have stooped to Isolde's level, and I need to rethink this." Nova looked toward the archway leading to the arena, where Isa Lern was standing and watching us intently. "By the way, I wanted to talk to you after class about one question," she said in a half-whisper, "including about her." Nova nodded her head in Isa's direction.
"About the fact that she is observing?"
"Uh-huh, about that, but the question is not only about her," Nova said calmly. "Alright, let's go to class, or we'll be late."
I silently followed her, and only when we entered the arena did I follow her gaze: she was looking intently at Ren, who was standing on the opposite stands, wrapped in an academic cape.
The class began quickly; students were called up in pairs one by one, and each of the second-year students tried to look more effective.
Each of them was given a special magical staff that limited their magical energy, thereby protecting the opponent from serious injury.
The rules in the arena were strict; for any serious harm caused to an opponent, immediate expulsion was supposed, although to inflict such damage, one would have to try very hard, as the safety measures were absolutely suffocating.
Only after almost an hour did my turn come.
"Artalis Nox, your turn," the magister-judge said, standing gloomily on the icy arena in a warm coat.
I unhurriedly descended the frozen steps and entered the arena, where I was handed a stabilizing staff—black ash, with a silver insert along the gravions. Such staves always caused me an internal dissonance. Formally, they served for protection, but in essence, they only limited power, turning magic into a simulation. The system claimed this was for safety, but its true function was to erode judgment. It taught students to rely on an external limiter rather than their own internal control—the critical sense of when to strike, and when to refrain.
"Leticia Frey," the magister said again. "You will be Artalis Nox's opponent."
Leticia descended with a nervous grace and took her staff with a sharp movement. In her gaze was irritation, and her movements were overly tense and nervous. Even her grip on the staff was excessively forceful, making her joints turn white.
We took our positions and exchanged short nods. The magister, making sure that we were ready, gave the command to begin, reminding us, "The goal is not to win, but to demonstrate control. To detain the opponent. To disarm, but not to harm."
The duel began.
I took a step to the left. The soles of my boots slid on the fragile ice crust. The surface of the arena was rough but grippy. I was fixing my balance.
Leticia fired first, using a simple Aetheric clot. It flew slowly toward me, accelerating more and more in the process. She was testing my reaction, but I just stepped aside, not even letting the spell touch the boundaries of my perception.
The response to her actions was a Shadow Arrow. A simple and light impulse with which I wanted to assess her skills. The dark energy of the spell slid toward her. Leticia barely dodged, and the irritation on her face intensified.
She ran to the side, nearly slipping on the icy crust of the arena, and unleashed Chaotic Fire at me. A swarm. Unconnected fiery constructs rushed toward me like a flock of uncontrolled signal sparks.
Ashield of Order and Darkness was my automatic reaction. The sparks of chaotic flame died out as quickly as they rushed toward me.
In anger, Leticia used an Aetheric Storm on me, a combination of Aether, Chaos, and Wind spells, but even this spell could not break my defense.
In anger, she ran to the side to strike past the shield. Blizzard. And hundreds of small ice shards rushed toward me. A simple mixture of Water and Wind magic was ineffective; I created another shield, and it absorbed the small shards.
Playing defense any longer was pointless. My new spell was calculated in advance—exactly on the edge where the result would not require a second strike.
One swing—and Aetheric Darkness in the form of a black and pearlescent beam rushed toward Leticia. As soon as the beam was near her, I exploded the concentration of darkness, and an explosion occurred a step away from her, which was impossible to dodge. Only the staff contained my power, which is why instead of death… The calculations were perfect; the force of the shock wave was just enough for Leticia to be thrown back and fall into the snow.
"Enough," the magister said.
I lowered my staff. Leticia, with resentment and tension, but without any unnecessary words, rose from the snow.
The path to the stands took only a few moments, but I once again paid attention to Isa, who was still looking at me coldly and rationally and was recording something in her notebook. I allowed myself to watch her for a few more minutes before Leticia Frey approached her and took a seat beside her.
The magister called the next pair, and for the rest of the class, I just watched the students.
Of the next twenty pairs, only four showed an adequate application of their magical abilities in practice; the rest were only learning to destroy, without delving into the true meaning of what was happening. This was also a result. However, I doubt that even one of them would actually become a combat mage.
***
There was still an hour left before lunch. I went to the exit of the magical arena, where Nova was already waiting for me. Her gaze was frozen in anticipation while the other students dispersed in groups to their own affairs: some to the baths, and some straight to the dormitories. I stopped next to her, waiting for her to begin the dialogue, but she did not say a word until most of the students had left.
"Shall we take a short walk?" her voice was even but quiet.
I nodded. We slowly headed toward the dormitories, but then turned toward the northern exit from the academy grounds.
"You know, it's interesting to watch your technique from the side," Nova said dryly. "That was just a game of give-and-take, wasn't it?"
"You fought with me; you should understand," I replied calmly.
Nova nodded.
"I understand."
She was about to say something else when suddenly quick steps sounded behind us. I immediately turned and saw that Ren was catching up to us, her face expressing clear concern that I had left with Nova. Most likely, it was jealousy.
"Where are you going?!" she asked, slightly out of breath.
Nova turned to her.
"Reina. Arta and I need to talk. We have important questions that require immediate attention." Nova's voice was cold and stern; she clearly did not want to involve Ren in the matters she was going to discuss with me.
"But!.." Ren wanted to object, but Nova interrupted her, "Ren, please, let us talk. We'll see each other at lunch."
Ren sadly lowered her eyes, shifted from foot to foot, and only then said, "Alright, sunshine! I'll be waiting!" she playfully blew Nova a kiss, but before running off, she cast a glance at me, and in it was poorly concealed anger.
Nova just shook her head, and then said, "Ren doesn't like it when I talk to someone longer than I talk to her. And she especially dislikes you." Nova looked me in the eye. "I didn't say this in front of Catherine, but Ren spent the entire holidays at the Academy. We spent a lot of time together while getting rid of Frederik's intrusive spies, but…" Nova shook her head. "I don't know, Arta, what you did to her, but every time she speaks of you too negatively. Did something happen between you?"
I looked her in the eye, understanding that I should tell the truth.
"Well, she talked to me about some book, about how I'm either an editor or a villainess. It was a completely unhealthy reaction."
Nova touched her forehead with her hand and shook her head.
"And she talked to you about that too, did she…? Her passion for novels is like an obsession." Nova removed her hand from her forehead. "Alright, enough," Nova held out both palms to me. A gesture meaning that this conversation should not be continued.
"So what did you want to talk about?" I asked, understanding that she was not in the mood to talk about Reina.
"Yes… So, there are two points you need to know. The first is Isa Lern. She is not just a student; she is the granddaughter of Major Terren, our rector. Isa is observing you on his direct orders. I think you have already figured that out."
"Yes," I confirmed. "But her methods are too straightforward." I deliberately exhaled, feigning disappointment.
"Exactly," Nova nodded. "I noticed that myself. She doesn't know how to hide her observation. And that could turn into a problem—for us and for her."
I looked at Nova. She was not speaking as an ally or a friend, but as a strategist who had consciously chosen her side. However, even so, one had to act with extreme caution with her, as crude attempts to break her relationship with Ren would lead to the direct influence of Chaotic Light.
"And the second point," she stopped. "On the weekend, Evelina is expecting us at her place. She has plans that concern not only the fate of the academy but also Valtheim in particular. We need to discuss this among the three of us, without Catherine and especially without Ren."
I nodded. This was expected. Evelina would never have given up playing politics, and I was still just a simple tool for her.
"Thank you for the warning," I replied, looking her in the eye.
"I am not warning you, Arta," Nova looked at me calmly. "I am trusting you. I… need you to know that. And yes, thank you for stopping me with Isolde. Now I am sure you are someone who understands my position. Someone willing to offer a hand when it matters."
I nodded instead of words. In these circumstances, that was enough.
Nova smiled.
"Well, shall we go to lunch?" she said cheerfully. "You don't mind if Ren and I sit with you and Catherine, do you?"
"I don't mind," although in reality, my answer did not reflect the whole truth. For me, getting closer was just a convenient way to observe, but it seems I was beginning to understand the peculiarities of Nova's soul, and even despite the fact that she was under the influence of Chaotic Light, there was a structure in her that demanded to be set free.
***
We quickly reached the dining hall, where I met Catherine. Finding a suitable table for four, we occupied it and went for food.
"How was the duel?" she asked, taking vegetables and tea from the serving line.
"Nothing serious. It's all too strict there for such classes to carry any risk," I replied calmly, understanding the purpose of the question.
"So there's no risk?" Catherine frowned.
"Yes, no risk at all. They have stabilizing staves there; they absorb almost all magical energy," I explained to her.
"And what if someone lets go of the staff?" Catherine asked anxiously.
"There is a risk of such an event, but for that to happen, someone would have to have a very strong grudge against you," I replied, taking boiled chicken breast and millet porridge from the serving line.
Catherine shook her head.
"Arta, I beg you, be careful there. I won't forgive myself if you get hurt," she said in an undertone, not looking me in the eye.
"I will try to be more careful, Catherine."
Catherine sighed with relief, and we went together to the occupied table by the window. Soon Nova approached us with a tray on which there was compote, a piece of red meat, and fresh vegetables.
"May I sit?"
"Of course," Catherine replied.
Nova sat opposite me.
"Ren will be here soon," she said in an undertone.
A few moments after her words, Ren appeared behind me. She playfully ran her index finger along Catherine's ponytail, and then along her shoulder, which made her flinch.
"What an intimate company," she remarked. "I hope I'm not disturbing the magical equilibrium."
"Ren, don't scare me like that next time," Catherine replied, still not having recovered from her action.
Ren sat next to Nova. It seemed she was completely indifferent to Nova's situation. I registered several glances that were directed at them.
"By the way, we are being watched," I intervened. "Ren, we are just having lunch."
"Oh, they are always watching," she waved her hand. "What difference does it make? We're not holding hands."
"Reina…" Nova said with a slight coldness in her voice.
"Don't worry, I'm watching myself," Ren replied with a smile and reached for her cup of tea.
We began our lunch, and Ren, as if by chance, placed her hand on Nova's wrist, lingering in this gesture longer than a random gesture required. I noted for myself that this gesture was not intended for Nova, but for Catherine.
The silence became heavy, and Nova was the first to break the pause, "Arta had an excellent demonstration of magical abilities today. Confident control, calibrated actions. Leticia didn't even know how to react."
Ren smirked, "Oh, Leticia… she still thinks she can control everything through emotions."
Catherine raised an eyebrow slightly, "And does she often manage to control everything through emotions?"
"Almost never," I answered dryly. "But the attempts continue, and persistence is the first sign that not all is hopeless."
"You should be together more often in magical duels," Nova remarked. "You have very different perceptions of a duel, but I suppose in practice, you can achieve unique results."
She cast a quick glance at Catherine, then at me. Catherine did not look away but tensed slightly in her shoulders, and her attention switched to Ren, who was smiling mysteriously.
Ren did not look at Catherine, only at Nova, but her voice became softer, "Actually, I think Catherine could teach Arta something that no magister can explain. It's just a pity that such things are not taught at the academy, even in 'The Philosophy of Attachment.'"
Catherine cast a glance at Ren, full of hidden resentment.
Ren, seeing her reaction out of the corner of her eye, leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table. Her fingers tapped on the edge of her plate—the rhythm was unhurried but insistent, as if she were testing which of us was attentive enough to hear it.
"Catherine," she began, not looking at me, "have you finished that book yet? I suppose the ending might pleasantly surprise you."
Catherine inhaled sharply, her spoon clattering against the edge of her plate. She did not look up, but I noticed her cheeks flush slightly.
"I… haven't finished yet," she replied, carefully taking a cloth napkin to wipe her lips. "But… yes, there are a lot of interesting things in it."
Nova, who had been watching the play of light in Ren's cup all this time, suddenly became alert. "Reina, did you give Catherine something from your novels to read? Are you sure she needs it?"
Ren snorted but replied, "Yes, I suppose it might be interesting to her."
Nova shook her head in disappointment but made no comment and only stealthily looked at me with a gaze full of hidden regret.
Ren, not reacting to Nova's reaction, addressed me, "Arta, and what kind of literature do you like to read? Maybe you'll share your favorite novel?"
I carefully placed my utensils on my plate and looked at Ren. "I prefer the works of Magister Olvin. About the reasons why the Order Veytra was destroyed in Illumora, and what to do to restore it." I tilted my head slightly, imitating Ren's typical feigned sincerity.
"How boring," Ren replied. "Maybe I should give you something to read from my collection?" she asked with a smile.
Nova answered for me, "Ren, you can see that Arta is not interested in that." Then she looked at me. "I have also read the works of Magister Olvin. A very smart man. Sometimes it's even a pity that only women teach at the academy."
Catherine suddenly spoke, unexpectedly for everyone, "And don't you think, Ren, that sometimes…" her voice trembled, but she gathered herself, "…sometimes what is written does not correspond to reality? Maybe you shouldn't look for hidden meanings in it?…"
Ren smirked. "You're looking for a difference where there isn't one. Everything follows a pattern, Catherine. Especially a well-told story. Read to the end. I promise you'll understand."
Catherine nodded; it was clear that she was not completely sure of what Ren was talking about.
After a short pause, Catherine returned to her food. Her movements had become more cautious, as if she were now testing her own confidence against the simple act of eating.
Ren reached for the pitcher and poured juice into the crystal glasses, as if finally asserting her presence at the table. Her gaze slid over Catherine, then over Nova. In neither was there an open assessment. Only… a sparkling fixation, like someone who knows: the next scene has already been written.
Nova was tense. Our conversation at the table clearly did not please her, and even Ren, sitting beside her, did not make her smile.
Finishing my meal, I folded my utensils. "I think that's enough for today. Catherine, I suppose it's time for us to prepare for tomorrow and get some sword practice."
Catherine nodded. "Yes, I agree. I'll just finish my juice."
Nova raised an eyebrow and looked at me with a genuinely surprised gaze. "You fence with swords? But they don't teach that at the Academy."
I allowed myself a barely perceptible smile. "I am teaching Catherine the classic fencing technique from Tarvar."
Nova blinked in surprise. "I didn't think girls would fence with swords."
Catherine looked at Nova with a hint of wariness—as if not expecting such a light tone. "We have advanced courses. It won't be easy to learn."
"Catherine, I'm not imposing, just genuinely surprised. As for me, it's very unusual. But I personally prefer magic, the rapier, and…" she paused, not naming another type of weapon. "As for épées, I don't really like them either."
Catherine shook her head. "Um, I didn't mean that! If you want to see—come. Maybe even I can teach you a technique."
Nova laughed slightly. "Alright, alright, I'll come sometime." She looked at Ren. "It seems it's time for us to say goodbye." Nova stood up abruptly from the table and headed for the exit, clearly not wanting to compromise herself further in front of Frederik.
Ren snorted but remained silent. For a few more seconds, she watched the departing Nova and only then looked at us, "Alright, girls! See you tomorrow!" She stood up from the table and confidently headed somewhere in Nova's direction.
I watched Catherine for a few more seconds. She finished her juice, pushed the glass aside—and we headed to our room to spend the rest of the day in the usual academic routine.