Before he even realized it, the Winter solstice was looming just three short weeks away. Such a brief span of time that he was left at a loss, unsure of how to proceed.
They had only scratched the surface of the runic language, barely touching on its most basic elements, and had only covered the essential three pillars of survival: shelter, food, and fire. Yet, they had just begun to delve into the art of navigation, and with the clock ticking, there was no chance he'd have enough time to cover the intricate details of the star maps. As for natural medicine—well, the less said about that, the better.
Julius could not help but feel a swell of joy as he considered how fortunate he was to have such a brilliant pupil in young Sunless. The boy had an uncanny ability—he only needed to hear something once, and it was etched into his memory as if carved in stone. It was a rare and precious gift, indeed. But with such extraordinary aptitude came its own set of challenges. Julius found himself needing to rethink his entire approach to teaching. His previous lesson plans had been designed with a singular focus: to cram as much practical knowledge as possible into the minds of the sleepers, the few who would attend his classes. It was a strategy built around brevity and efficiency, avoiding complicated but essential topics. Yet, with Sunless as his student, he could now venture into more challenging and intricate material without hesitation, knowing that the boy would be able to absorb it swiftly, even in such a short time.
This exceptional attribute of his pupil was a key factor in Julius's decision to entrust the boy with some of the most potent memories he could offer—*[A Stubborn Legacy]*, *[Mother's Maw]*, and *[Twin's Bane]*. The boy's vivid and remarkably detailed description of his first nightmare had shown unmistakable signs of a future scholar, someone whose intellect would be tested by the trials of the dream realm. Julius hoped that these powerful memories would guide him on his first journey into that strange and perilous world.
Not that Julius had any doubts about Sunless's abilities—after all, Rock, his fellow mentor, often praised the boy's unwavering dedication to mastering the blade. What's more, the boy had even made a friend in Caster, a member of the Han Li clan, who had taken it upon himself to support Sunless in his martial pursuits. How splendid that was! Julius could not help but feel a sense of pride at the boy's progress.
With his concerns alleviated to some degree, Julius gathered his materials for the next lesson and made his way toward the simulation capsule. It was time to tackle one of his favorite subjects: the weaponization of natural phenomena in the dream realm. He couldn't wait to see what new heights his student would reach.
'*'
By the end of the second week, Nephis had already pieced together the identities of her would-be assassins. It was Caster of the Han Li clan, of that she was certain. His incessant need to speak with her, to seek out her company despite her complete indifference, was the telltale sign. She had never engaged with his desperate attempts, but they were unmistakable, and she had come to know him well enough to recognize his motives.
Thanks to her newfound knowledge, Nephis had begun to entertain other, more subtle suspects. First, there were the group of girls. They didn't share any classes, which only made it all the more suspicious that they spent so much time together. It was clear to her that they had a singular, unified goal—likely to be adopted into the Song clan. Such ambition was not to be underestimated.
Then there was Sunless. The boy was an enigma, as secretive as they come, and his interactions were few and far between. He was rarely seen except in class, and when he was, it was only ever with Caster. During lunch, he remained an elusive figure, and for a brief moment, Nephis had foolishly considered that he might be some sort of Nightingale fan. That thought had quickly faded, replaced with the firm belief that his actions and behavior were far from innocent.
The third was Mai, a girl she shared Nightmare Creature Anatomy classes with. There was something about her that set Nephis's instincts on edge. She couldn't quite place it, but the girl gave her the creeps, and she knew that instinct was never wrong.
Now that Nephis had identified her opponents, she wasted no time in taking action. She devoted herself to intense training, using every spare moment in her room to refine her skills. Her focus was clear—she needed to counter Caster's incredible speed, and she began planning the most effective ways to thwart Mai's sinister schemes. As for Sunless, the youngest of them all, he remained a mystery. He kept his cards close to his chest, never revealing much, but Nephis was no fool. She had learned that he was no stranger to the criminal underworld of the Outskirts before ever setting foot in the academy. Even he, however, would slip up, and she would be waiting for that moment.
In the end, they all would meet the same fate, as she was Changing Star of the Immortal Flame and that was her will and non shall oppose her.
'*'
Cassia was certain she would die in a week. It felt inevitable, like an unrelenting wave crashing against her, and she had accepted it. In her final days, she vowed to make the most of whatever little time remained. She redoubled her efforts at adjusting to her blindness, each day a struggle, but Miss Kathleen's patient guidance was a lifeline. The progress she made was slow, but it was there, and she clung to it like a desperate soul clinging to a thread. She no longer stumbled when moving faster than a slow walk, a small victory that brought a fleeting sense of hope.
Even more surprising, she had begun to speak to others, besides Sunny. Granted, the conversations were awkward, short, and often shallow, but they mattered. Most of them had their own agendas—looking for favors or trying to use her in some way—but it didn't matter. To her, it was proof that she wasn't seen as a ghost anymore. They were speaking to her. It was a small, almost pitiful thing, but it felt like a sliver of life she hadn't expected to have.
As she sat there, eating her potato purée—one of the few comforts left to her—her mind wandered, pulled by the haunting thought of what would come in a week. Would it be quick? Like falling from a great height, the world rushing past her in a blur before she vanished into nothingness? Or would it be something more absurd? Would she trip, fumble, and meet her end in some ridiculous, almost laughable way? Or would it be slow, agonizing—like dying from some unseen poison, the pain stretching out, reminding her of everything she could never have? Every possibility was torture in its own way, but she couldn't stop the thoughts, couldn't stop imagining her end.
Her morbid musings were abruptly interrupted by a familiar set of runes:
[Fated] [Mark of Divinity] [Child of Shadows] [Trinity] [Web]
The runes glowed with a strange, comforting resonance—one that belonged to the closest thing she had to a friend: Sunless. Her Sunny, as she had come to think of him, the only person who had ever approached her in the Academy of his own volition. He had reached out to her, unbidden, in a place where everyone else had either avoided or forgotten her. For the past three weeks, they had shared quiet lunches together, caught in a schedule that allowed them to meet. The hours spent with him—talking about nothing and everything, laughing at things no one else would understand—were her last connection to a world she would soon leave behind. The fact that even her Aspect, her very essence, seemed to avoid her only deepened the isolation she felt, but Sunless... he was there.
He listened to her in a way that no one else did. She had told him the most trivial things—like how she preferred synthetic chicken nuggets to real ones, or how her dad had learned to drive despite the family never having a P.T.V. and he listened, never judging, never turning away. For a moment, she had the illusion that she was still someone worth listening to.
*pad**pad*pad*
She could hear him approaching. He always did that—deliberately tapping his feet as he walked, ensuring his footsteps were louder than usual. He knew how silent his movements were, how unnoticed he could be. Yet, he made sure she knew when he was near, almost as if he was trying to ground her in the reality of his presence. It was something she had come to depend on, something so small but so profoundly meaningful to her.
Perhaps, in the dream realm, she would find him—or someone like him. Perhaps there, she could still cling to the hope that there was something left to fight for, that there was a way back to her family, to her life. But she knew better. She knew the dream realm was a place where people like her faded, where nothing lasted, not even memories.
And yet, just for a moment, she allowed herself to hope. Because without that fragile hope, what was left?