Unwrapping the folds around a cut-off human torso, Lucion yawned. Rubber black gloves on, he carried the broken body part onto the metal countertop, ruddy and bloodless where the head and the limbs had been sliced off already overflew the white surface. The gloves finished into the trash bin beside the countertop; he could rub his eyes without the risk of infection now.

Somehow, his eyes still burned from exposition to firelight that morning in his room. Self-imposed torture that had lasted for a week now. He dreaded it all less each time, but it all hurt just the same.

The whole academy would wake up in no time, and the children of Galeda and the instructors would swarm the hallways. As a graduate student, Lucion was already late at choosing a mentee among the newly sorted children of Galeda. If a teacher found him there alone, he could have his curriculum spoiled. What pity it would be since he'd done things right this far. He needed to focus on the task at hand and be as efficient as he could.

Healing was useful. Expanding energy to recreate living flesh required enormous training and dexterity. Like after fixing a clock, one needs to understand how its needles move to track time, healing flesh required detailed knowledge of all body components: flesh, veins, blood, bones, and how each connects to the other. While a mattergrasper with affinity to water had one medium to learn to properly wield, healers needed a detailed knowledge of several of them, and incredible precision to boot. But what would all this serve him when he'd most need it?

It was unjust that if hardship manifested, the matterhandler was the one more likely to survive. Lucion had always taken pride in his ability but the more he thought of it, the more he realized how useless his ability was for himself. Understanding that took the realization that he could not trust Mistress Anya.

This was his best attempt to remediate the situation. Lucion reached inside his vessel and let energy pour out. He focused on the human torso in front of him. Trying to learn a new ability at Lucion's age was the equivalent of a right-handed swordsman trying to fight solely with his left hand. It didn't matter. If he had enough knowledge to heal, he surely had enough knowledge to wound. He had sense enough to understand wouldn't master the ability to wound. He needed it only to serve him in case of emergencies.

Lucion extended energy to the broken torso. He realized he stood too close to the body. He wasn't about to heal, he reminded himself. A longer range was more conducive to harming. One, two, three paces behind and extended energy again. He realized, too, that as soon as his threads of energy touched the body, he was scanning the flesh in terms of organs contained in it.

Venon! Focus, Lucion. He found a point where he could inflict harm. The heart. All the threads of energy narrowed at that point, densified, and pointed to the heart like a dagger. Now all Lucion needed to do was cut. He swung his arm in the manner of a sword falling dawn for a cut and the rip of flesh echoed. Then silence.

He had succeeded? He smiled, feeling warm even in his palms. Of course, he had succeeded. There was a reason why he was among the best in the academy.

At the sound of a droplet splashing on the ground, he looked down and saw red. Blood was dripping down his boots. From his hand. From the wound across his palm blood poured blood. Ancients, he had failed so miserably. His breathing sped up. Hand bunched into a fist, he ran to the drawers to find a medicinal cloth that he wrapped around his wound. Because things needed to always be more difficult than one first thought they could be, heavy knocks rocked the door.

Before Lucion was able to say anything, keys were already turning inside the lock. "Please, wait." It was useless. Instructor Pyon was already inside the room, first noticing the torso above the countertop, then the blood on the ground (eyes widening) then Lucion.

"Lucion, Child." He was crouched looking at Lucion's wound in no time. "What is this?"

"Nothing," Lucion said.

"Nothing?"

"I mean, I was attempting a new healing technique," he said. "Couldn't get to it, I cut myself."

Instructor Pyon raised a brow. "That is unlike you." He scanned Lucion's face. "You look like you need to sleep for a week. Make sure you are resting enough. We are willing to allow students to practice out of classes but this is not supposed to happen, else Sir Fanou won't allow it anymore. Speaking of the Sir, he has an important announcement. All the academy is summoned to the main room right now. Afterward, you should find a healer to help you with that and clean up this mess. Whatever you do--"

"I know," Lucion cut him off. "I won't try to heal myself." He knew much more about fleshgrasping than an instructor whose specialty was mattergrasping.

"Good. Now to the main room."

"I will be there in no time."

"No. You are going there right now, Lucion."

Lucion tightened the medicinal cloth around the wound and, as ordered, walked outside the room, along the corridor, up the white-lit stairs leading to the third floor of the Academy, and into the main room, already full of students, hundreds of them sitting on rows after rows of black benches.

Instructor Pyon, still behind Lucion spoke. "Find yourself a seat." And off he went, along the path between the bench rows to join the teaching body atop a podium where stood Mister Anya, Mister Fanou, and— Lucion had to rub his eyes to ascertain himself his eyes were faithful to reality—the Father, in a heavy robe that covered everything but his hand and face atop his head sat a headpiece.

Lucion knew immediately that the announcement of this year's mentorship wasn't the reason why they would be honored with the presence of the Father in the academy. Lucion scanned the front seats for a free spot. He had no luck. The last time Lucion had seen the Father, he had been twelve years old. Important news was imminent, Lucion felt it. He cursed himself for not being there sooner. And all for a miserably failed experiment.

The double doors of the main room were closed after a dozen remaining late students were finally inside the room. Then the Father spoke, voice powerful, conquering all the corners of the room. "Gulgra, children, dear, of New Galeda. It is an immense pleasure to have you here with me. All of you, are young, bright, and hard-working. Still, I cannot dismiss the profound sadness brought along by such beautiful sight. Because, three hundred years ago, bright, virtuous youth just like you fell pray to the hunger for power of the Ceri Monarchy. I had the misfortune to witness it, on one hand. And the luck to have survived it on the other." His gaze wandered across the audience for a moment and he smiled. "The time has come that we, Galedean rise again, to honor the death of our predecessors, to avenge them with the blood of the Monarchy.

"I am most joyous to witness what the work of the instructors in the academy has brought to fruition. Our children, you are the future of Galeda. The Monarchy stripped us of all that was rightfully ours: our knowledge, our ability to gather as a people, and most of all our Land. Galedean as we are, of course, we fought. We lost the battle at the time. But the war is not over. It has never been over. And now, thanks to the work and diligence of Head Instructors Anya and Fanou, the second, the ultimate battle is near. My children dear, you will have to be strong. Because we will be mobilizing your strength by the end of one season. Your instructors will provide you with details on the operation, but within a season, thanks to the effort of each one of you here, our numbers will be considerably multiplied. Rebuilding New Galeda will be possible in a very, very new future. Galeda will rise again and all that stands in our way--"

"Will fall," replied the audience in unison, joyous, excited. Lucion knew that if not for that seed of doubt Mistress Anya planted in him, he knew he would be in the same spirit, but now he was afraid. Afraid for himself and afraid for each of the children of the Academy because he knew a number of them would not survive the announced battle. Lucion wondered if they all understood. And the teachers, who surely did, how could they show joy at such a bleak prospect? Lucion noticed too that beside Mistress Anya and the Father, Mister Fanou with his hands tucked behind him looked horribly pained.

Lucion had always been excited about the prospect of meeting the Father, speaking to him, of his centuries-old fight for the cause of the Gulgra and engagement in rebuilding New Galeda. But now his injury sounded much more urgent than all of it. Bumping into students, Lucion rushed outside the room.

"Lucion," called someone from behind. Lucion turned to Instructor Akina. "Have you chosen your mentee?"

"Not yet."

"It was a rhetorical question. You should have all chosen them by yesterday. It is a great opportunity and an important part of your grade. Now it's more vital since the mentees should be ready for the operation planned by the end of the season."

Lucion closed the distance between himself and the instructor. He hushed, "The new mentees will take part in the battle?"

Instructor Akina looked at him puzzled. "Of course, they will Lucion. All children of Galeda will fight for us."

Lucion nodded. "Right," he murmured. "I have chosen my mentee, actually. Una, I read through her information a week ago. It's still unclear whether she is fleshgrasper or not but Mister Fanou believes it's likely."

Instructor Akina looked at Lucion as if he had lost his mind. "Una?" she questioned. "There were much more interesting candidates. But I will note that in my reports. I'll let you have a first session together this morning and you can tell me if you keep your choice."

"Of course."

It was only once instructor Akina, one of the most competent healers of the Academy, was far away in the corridor that Lucion remember he had a wound to deal with. For now, all he could do consisted of wrapping another layer of medicinal cloth around his wound.

Lucion found Una in the chambers of the initiates after retrieving the scripts with information on her in Akina's office. The script described a reserved, mute, ten-year-old girl from Anuteh who had arrived at the academy two years ago. Mister Fanou had ruled out mattergrasping abilities but it wasn't certain which type of fleshgrasping she could perform. She had been born just after the uprising in the slams of Dith and its repression by the Anutehi regional Monarchy, so she was expected to have great potential. Judging by the number of deaths during the repression, she could hold in herself up to the energy of five hundred souls. Lucion felt a pang of jealousy at that bit of information. And when he read that she had difficulty expanding energy even after two years of elemental training, he definitely knew that assumption of potential to be false. She was a mute, weak girl, in short. The academy was a small world, and if one has to find themselves trapped in such a way inside themselves, Lucion could only imagine the horror of it.

Children like Una had no place in the upcoming battle. Overcome with pity, Lucion conducted Una to the vacant classroom where he had been vainly training that morning. With small grey eyes never losing sight of him, Una observed Lucion as he cleaned the mess he had produced before the reunion in the main room. She sat quietly in her chair.

"I believe it's unfair that even children of Galeda like you will have to be at the frontline of the upcoming battle," Lucion said. He approached Una. "I am an outstanding healer, still I'm frightened. If anything, the only thing I could accomplish is reinforcing our ranks by healing those with more offensive skills when they are wounded. I have my blade training to defend myself if need be, but I don't expect to be much more skilled than a seasoned guard." Lucion wasn't one to share his vulnerabilities like this, but a mute girl was a tomb unless she could master some telepathic ability that would allow her to share it. That would require her some dozen years of study to bring about. Una had most likely one season alive still.

Still, Lucion was supposed to play the part in this mentee process. "I will show you the basics of healing, alright?" Lucion opened the drawers and retrieved a knife which he used to carve a deep wound on the arm resting on the countertop. Lucion took her hand and made Una grab his tunic. "When you do not understand what I say, tag it and I will go about it a different way. Until you understand." Lucion explained the structure of the broken flesh, the basics only: the layers of skin distinguishable by the eye, the muscles underneath, and blood. Useless to introduce nerves and veins and all the nuances in blood components and unseen skin layers this early. If Lucion was lucky, by the end of the year, Una would be able to stop blood from flowing out of a wound.

Throughout the explanation Una never tugged his tunic, although her grip remained firm. Certain she didn't grasp all he had said, Lucion continued nonetheless. But when he finished, he wasn't sure what to do next. Una didn't speak. She couldn't. How much Lucion pitied her. "I might have met your sister," he said. "You probably do not remember her. I suspect we have our minds cleaned up once we are brought here to the academy," Lucion sighed. "I was sent to heal her. Amyra, I think it was her name. From Anuteh."

As soon as Lucion pronounced her name, Una's grip on his tunic tightened. Her expression sparked with curiosity. Lucion observed her cautiously. It was reassuring to finally react to something. Curious that even with the memories of her sister being wiped, something inside her still seemed to recognize the name. Lucion wondered if he would have such a reaction as well if something relating to his past was mentioned.

"Amyra is in the city?" her voice echoed, soft, hopeful, and desperate.

Lucion flinched. His first instinct was to run outside the door and report to mistress Anya what he had just witnessed immediately. But he grounded himself where he sat and wondered. How her ability to speak had escaped the instructors? Mister Fanou was able to break through someone's mental barriers and find the truth locked into someone's mind. And how was it possible she still kept memories of her sister?

"I have memories," Una said. "I know to protect them from the Mister."

Lucion stood immediately, ran to the door, and locked it. He stared back at Una, that innocent child in front of him. She could keep Mister Fanou from getting into her mind. He laughed, incredulous. But Una did something he did not expect. She extended energy to the wound in his hand and the pain was gone. Lucion ripped the medical cloth wrapped around it to find perfectly reconstructed skin.

"No!" Lucion couldn't accomplish that before his eighth year of studying healing; a child that young, (that the whole body of instructors had judged to be weak) could not have done that. Even if she actually carried the strength of five hundred souls in her vessel, brute strength should not translate into prowess.

"I may unlock your memories," Una said.

And Lucion froze, still in disbelief. Now overcome by the fear of what he could find on the other side of it. If she wasn't experienced enough in handling brain tissues, she could make him crazy in the process, even kill him. But Lucion was facing someone who had been able to shield herself against Mister Fanou's highly advanced skills. Lucion swallowed hard, pressed his back against the wall, breathed out heavily, and said, "Do it."

And he saw her eyes go from grey to completely dark, the black veins snaking in her face, then a wave of shadows coming upon him. Yes, Una was unlike any other student in the academy. Her energy threads pierced the skin, spanning across his nerves and flesh with tantalizing speed. It was all like witnessing a carriage derail off the edge of a precipice, slow enough to take in all the process, quick enough that as soon as spotted it, you could not stop it. It was too late.

Although his entire body tensed with apprehension, Una's work didn't hurt. On the contrary, once the threads of energy tackled his brain, Lucion realized he had a weight pressing on his skull for as long as he could remember. And like that, it was all gone. It felt as though he was seeing colors for the first time. Although dizzy, he could see it all now, the years preceding all the time spent in the academy coming to fit together.

The house was on fire. He'd always hated fire. Why had Kornlat left the candles alight in the room? It was getting hotter. His throat was burning and his eyes, too.

A strange, acute pain swarmed Lucion and he fell to his knees. His hands shot up to cover his mouth like a tightrope. To block any cry that threatened to spill out.

The blond, noble woman with clear eyes, who Kornlat had welcomed into the house for tea after she asked which was the best road to take to Tenush, was taking Lucion by the hand outside. Kornlat lay spread clumsily on the ground, his eyes open. Completely silent. His neck was twisted at an improbable angle. The fire hadn't touched him yet though. The noblewoman was to blame; she had not even used her hands for that. Why was she taking Lucion away, abandoning Kornlat there? The flames were growing bigger, louder, and more furious. If Kornlat remain there, he would die.

Lucion was stunned. How could he have forgotten? Kornlat was. . .

Soon Lucion was outside the house, feeling the heat on his back. He never turned to see. He was now sitting inside a carriage by the woman's side, then being led into dark corridors. This is the academy, had said the blond woman. Mistress Anya, she had finally pronounced her name. She took Lucion to the office of Mister Fanou.

Lucion remembered the black sinister eyes, the then strange man taking over his mind. Then Kornlat, the fire that had consumed his body, and most of all, Lucion's sadness – the sense that Kornlat wasn't well. All of it was gone from his mind. Until now. Nine years later.

Lucion watched Una in awe. How could all this power come from a child? She had somehow evaded the mind readings from Mister Fanou, but Lucion hadn't such power. He was but a miserable healer. As soon as the instructors discovered he remembered his old life, he would be killed. That was bound to happen sooner than later. "We needed to get out of the academy as soon as possible," Lucion said. "We must find your sister."