A week had passed since a little more than fifty— about half the original number of academs-in-training— academs emerged from the Chamber of Trials. None of us came back bruised and broken, but we all had returned with scars of the mind that would remain stay with us for the rest of our lives.

Rathlin had been the quickest to recover. “I’m told a singularly talented mage aspired to godhood, and Absentia was the result. I wonder where he went wrong…”

I don’t remember that anyone had responded. Listless, I had followed the officiant back to the health bay, where we remained overnight. Several uneventful days passed before the head physician cleared our fifty-four strong class to begin our studies.

Nothing untoward occurred during the first week of classes— to tell the truth, nothing much of note occurred at all. The majority of our days were spent almost exclusively on campus learning about the history of the Academy and its founding father, the first headmaster: Elminster Aumar. My hand quickly tired of writing notes, and my boredom grew alongside it.

When we weren’t on mandatory campus tours or I didn’t have to study, I took every opportunity to explore the Kingdom of Magic. I managed to sneak out a time or three on excursions to other sectors.

Rogue appeared wordlessly at my side and accompanied me on my second trip— brown sector housed Magisterium’s trade class, and its tall buildings and high towers were all the more impressive for it. We watched laborers speedily construct an expansive estate with the help of magically enhanced machinery.

However he found out, Rathlin met us on our exploration of gold sector, where the richest merchants and most elite members of society congregated— he arrived in one of the flying contraptions that both Rogue and I avoided like the plague. While I admitted to being impressed by the display of opulence and wealth present in the houses built out of gold and precious gems, Rathlin was disgusted.

We left on another adventure in the late morning on the last day of our first weekend as freshly minted academs. We found green sector, a floral paradise teeming with life. Birds swooped down to capture bugs in their beaks and bees buzzed tirelessly in lazy circles around the many sources of pollen. I noticed the overwhelming greenness was due in large part to an injection of anima into the omnipresent flower beds.

Rogue sneezed again. “I don’t like this place. Can we go home yet?”

I shook my head and referenced a hand-drawn map. “You don’t have to come along if you don’t want, but I’ve gotta run an errand for Lord Blythe first.”

“You liked the other sectors well enough. The smell getting to you?” Rathlin said with a wide grin.

The three of us parted to allow a happy couple to pass. I eyed the cheerful duo with some trepidation. How long would I have to stay in Magisterium to experience a fraction of the bliss that was written across their faces? Shrugging, I turned and walked us down Lily avenue to where it bisected Rose street.

Rose district was purported to be the most popular— and populated— district by far in the green sector. It was certainly the latter; it was all I could do not to hyperventilate at the sight of so many people. Alongside the usual rows of flowers planted alongside the street, in the windows, they seemed to sprout from the shops and houses themselves!

“How does Magisterium manage to harness this much anima?” I had to ask.

Both Rogue and Rathlin gave me weird looks.

“What?” I said.

Rogue shook her head vehemently and pointed at her nose and Rathlin dipped his in resignation.

“In exchange for a cushy lifestyle, all citizens of Magisterium agree to donate a portion of their anima. This energy tax ensures the smooth operation of the city. Without it, Magisterium as we know it would cease to function. If that happened, the so-called ‘Kingdom of Magic’ wouldn’t remain independent from Roma for very long,” Rathlin explained.

Rogue waved her tattoos under my nose. “You didn’t notice?” She sounded unimpressed.

I gulped and pulled back the left sleeve of my cloak to look at the black tattoo I’d received when I became a citizen first class. The tattoo had become apart of me, so much so that I rarely thought about it and could hardly remember what I had looked like without it. The four concentric rings shone with the same mesmerizing light, but my mage’s sight afforded me a more revealing view of its inner workings. In tiny increments, anima flowed from the aural nodes in my tattooed skin and was absorbed by one of the numerous collectors built into the city.

I looked around. Tiny though it might have been for a mage, the energy drain had a more pronounced effect on normal citizens. A pregnant woman walking arm and arm with her lover was noticeably pale, and an old man that hobbled past was on his last legs— his life-force looked like the glow cast by the ashy embers of a small fire.

Her hand held protectively over her mouth and nose, Rogue motioned with her elbow to a shop halfway down the street. My eyes were better than most, but I had to squint to read the sign posted over the shopfront.

“Blossom’s Confectionary,” I read with some hesitation.

“That’s right,” Rogue’s muffled voice confirmed.

Rathlin scrutinized me. “I get why she can… but how can you possibly read that from all the way over here?”

Nyx chuckled, and I shrugged. “I’ve always had good eyes— anyways, Rogue’s are better.”

“… and she’s half-beast,” Rathlin muttered, and reeled from Rogue’s reaction.

Rogue slapped him so hard that he must’ve been seeing stars. He certainly stumbled for a few steps before he regained his footing and replaced a dazed expression with his usual smile.

“Ouch! What was that for? S’ the truth…” Rathlin raised his hands to defend himself, “Alright, fine! I was just saying… sorry,” he said, and he meant it.

Rogue acknowledged the apology and the three of us returned our attention to the confectionary, some three blocks away. I jumped up and down, trying to get a clear view of the place, but it was too far away and there were too many people. There was a huge crowd standing between me and the reason I had decided to visit green sector that day— it had come to like that I’d never tried sweets, and Merlin had recommended Blossom’s Confectionary with a smile and a wave.

Rathlin brandished his new, slightly darker gray cloak that all the academ’s had received after passing through the Chamber of Trials. Mine was emblazoned with the winged steed of my sponsor’s house. Lord Blythe had delivered mine to me personally, and I gasped when I felt the expensive— and waterproofed— leather for the first time. Then I had smiled when I discovered the many pockets sewn into its lining.

The effect was immediate. Passerby gave us a wide birth after they noticed the three academs in their midst. Smiling ruefully, Rathlin bowed and took the lead. He parted the sea of people at regular intervals with his magic trick, and a short while later we arrived at Blossom’s Confectionary. The line to order stretched out the door.

We queued up behind the last customer and waited for our turn. Rathlin struck up a conversation with Rogue about her homeland, Giralith, while I admired the confectionary’s many offerings. Behind a single pane of glass was a baker’s paradise. There were sweet cakes, hard candies, soft candies, chewy candies— there were even candied flowers. My mouth watered.

“What are you goggling at?” Rogue sniffed.

“I’ve never had sweets,” I admitted.

“Never had sweets…?” Rathlin repeated my words like they were from a different language.

“You live under a rock?” Rogue said.

I chuckled without mirth and forced a grin. “Mmmmmmm… it was… more like a cage… but close enough!”

“You can’t be serious. Where was it that you were from again?” Rathlin said.

“Near the ruins of Manzant, in the middle of the Dark Forest— Altressor.”

“Ah, a fellow roman!” Rathlin threw an arm around me and patted me hard on the back.

I let him manhandle me and tried to seem agreeable.

Most people I’d come across that could have pointed to Altressor on a map always made the same mistake. Seeing as I didn’t want to have to explain any more about where I was raised and I didn’t care to argue the point with my friend, I didn’t correct him. I held my tongue, but silently denied any association with Roma. The Imperial Empire dominated half the known world, but Altressor, for whatever reason, had escaped its notice.

“Sorry I asked,” Rogue said, and returned to her conversation with Rathlin about the vertical structure of Giralith’s Clans.

A gap formed in the line, and we shuffled inside the confectionary. When the smell made it to my nose, I forgot all about Altressor and went back to drooling over the sweets. We moved up in the line so we were horizontal with more shelves of sugary treats and I pressed my face up against the glass. A fog formed on the glass until Rathlin grabbed me by the collar and stood me up so that I might notice the waiting shopkeep.

Her name tag read “Blossom.” “What can I get you, honored citizen?” Blossom said with a smile as cool and professional as her tone.

I grinned broadly. “How about…” I dug around in one of the little pockets in my cloak and produced four silvers, “Whatever this gets me.”

Blossom smiled and accommodated my sweet tooth with a boxed assortment of treats. “Will that be all?”

“That’s it. Thank you very much,” I said earnestly, but Blossom was already looking past me, beckoning the next customer forward.

“Customers are welcome in the seating area outside,” Blossom called after us as we edged by the line and stepped outside.

“Just one?” I pleaded with my companions.

I meant to stay calm amongst the chaos of citizens rushing to and fro, but I was nervous and sweaty. Thankfully, we emerged from Blossom’s Confectionary and almost immediately sat down at a long polished wood table that could have held three score people, easy. A baker’s dozen customers were relishing their own purchases, so I slavered over my own sweets and tried to decide between them.

“I can see it now…” Rathlin rubbed his forehead and made a mystic gesture, “Your teeth are going to fall out of your head,” he predicted.

I was having a difficult time making a decision, so I held the box out to Rathlin. “Want some?”

Rathlin looked like he was going to be sick. “I’m good.”

I pushed the box in front of Rogue. “Rogue? How about you?”

Rogue held out a hand— her dark eyes were roving over the passerby— busy drinking in the scenery? “No.” The box slid back across the table.

I shrugged. “More for me then.”

Just as I was about to dig in, I stopped, my hand positioned above a hard candy that would be easy to eat while walking. There was something… something felt wrong. My instincts screamed at me to do something, to move, to run away. I didn’t question where the feeling came from, or the why. Without a word I grabbed Rathlin and Rogue by the hand, hauled them up, and pressed up against the wall beside the sweets shop.

Rogue pulled out of my iron grip without apparent effort. “Let me go!” I shook out my hand, which had gone numb.

“Shiro— what are you doing? What’s wrong?” Rathlin must have been fearful for my sanity, because he sounded like he was trying to quiet a spooked horse.

In spite of the fact that it was likely the warmest day since I’d arrived in Magisterium, I shivered. “Don’t you guys feel that?”

Something was off, I could feel it— the whole city went dark. The ground trembled. “Get down! Everybody get down— and find cover!” I yelled at the top of my longs.

Conveyors fell out of the sky and crashed into the ground—people were smashed like pancakes. Had the public transportation system failed? People screamed— some in pain, others in fear for their lives— there was mass panic. Lights that ran day and night flickered, then went out. Across rose district, and probably throughout green sector, flowers wilted. A house collapsed in on itself; it caused little damage by itself, but gave rise to a cloud of dust.

Bits of rubble rained down on me and I covered my head with my hands. Tearful voices called out to lost friends and lovers. My eyes watered and my head felt like it was stuffed with gauze. Coughing, I rose to my feet and walked into the middle of the street.

Bodies were strewn everywhere. Here and there citizens were huddled for protection; others limped, hopped, or otherwise hobbled across the scene of carnage. I wondered if some horrible god had used the city inhabitants as his playthings, then discarded them like they were less than trash.

The cobblestoned streets were scarred from the fall of the transportation system, and they was forever stained with the blood of the fallen. More than a few buildings had been wrecked by falling conveyors— including, to my dismay, Blossom’s Confectionary. My eyes were drawn inexorably to the crushed box of confections, and I felt ill. In that moment I knew that for as long as I lived, I would never be able to eat sweets.

A kicked stone skittered past me, and I turned to see Rogue crunching through the rubble. With great care and not a little respect, she stepped around a body to get to me. Her face was blank as she surveyed the area, but she was shaking.

“This is the work of a demon…” she lapsed into her native tongue, and although it was the first time I’d heard her speak it, I didn’t need to understand the language to know that she was cursing, “Yes, without a doubt, this is the work of Afobos,” Rogue said.

In response to Rogue’s claim, Nyx cackled. Had he gone mad? “If only that were so, but the truth is worse. No, no god did this— this is the work of Man. Man has proven time and again to be capable of such unspeakable acts of self-destruction. Bear witness to this, Shiro— the fate of humankind is to destroy itself.”

My ears were still ringing. “Huh?”

Rathlin’s golden eyes were piercing. “Shiro, how did you know what was going to happen? How did you know?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t know this— I didn’t know. I sensed something was wrong, but I had no idea…” My throat constricted.

The smell of blood and burning flesh assaulted my nose, and as the shock wore off, the wanton destruction got to me— it really got to me. Nausea made me unsteady on my feet, and I felt sick.

I burped and spat out hot saliva. “I don’t feel so good,” I said woozily.

Rogue was there, patting me on the back. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay. You saved us, Shiro.”

My eyes tracked between her and Rathlin. For all the death and destruction surrounding us, we’d come out relatively unscathed. Rogue was bleeding from a cut on her scalp, but besides that she was fine. Rathlin’s knuckles were weeping crimson, but other than those self-inflicted wounds, I didn’t see a scratch on him. And me? Suspiciously, I didn’t have a scratch on me.

“She’s right. It doesn’t matter how you did it— you saved us,” Rathlin said, but his words didn’t reach my ears.

I made it barely halfway to the trashcan before I was violently sick. After I finished emptying the contents of my stomach on the cobblestones, I jerked upright and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

A mournful voice rose above the screams of the injured and moans of the dying. “Eretos save us. Eretos protect us. Please god, please save him!” Nearby, a young woman cradled her dead lover in her arms. Something had bored a hole in the man’s stomach a foot wide, and somehow he was missing an arm. In death, his skin was pale, paler than mine, and he was covered in blood— his own, I assumed.

Rathlin had spun to look at something, and I followed suit. With the dust settled, the thick trails of black smoke polluted the blue-green sky. When I saw Sowillo had almost reached the horizon and Pleiades had climbed into view, I jerked around. I could've sworn it was early afternoon, but there was no questioning the position of the moon and sun.

“I think we’d better get moving. We should return to our own sector, and home— before it gets dark,” Rathlin said.

Slowly, Rogue nodded. “You’re right. There’ll be people looking for us before long.”

In turn, I looked at Rogue, then Rathlin.“You think the Academy would send people to find us?” I asked, the disbelief clear in my tone.

“Oh, they’ll come for us— they’ll be coming for all the other academs that can’t be accounted for.”

We all eyed the road we would have to walk with trepidation. Rogue went first, passing the woman stricken with sorrow at the loss of her beloved and keeping to the edge of the street. Rathlin proceeded me, looking just as solemn— he looked back at me once, an unasked question written across his face— wasn’t I coming? I clenched my hands into fists tight enough to draw blood and followed after them.