The dorm room, C-104, had become a sanctuary. With the other roommates gone—scared off by Zane's reputation—we had the space to ourselves. It was damp, dark, and smelled of mildew, but to Zane, it was the only quiet place in the world.
Two days had passed since the combat trial. Vex hadn't made a move. That was worse than an attack. An attack is honest. Silence is a preparation.
I was sitting on my bed, examining the Ring of Whispers. I had discovered a secondary function: by pulsing mana in a specific rhythm (two shorts, one long), I could adjust the "volume" of the auditory filter I projected onto Zane. Right now, it was set to 60%. Just enough for him to hear me clearly, but low enough to mute the hum of the mana pipes in the walls.
Zane was doing push-ups. One-armed push-ups. With his feet on the upper bunk. "Ninety-eight... Ninety-nine..." He wasn't sweating. "Aren," he grunted mid-rep. "We need food. Real food. The paste is making me weak."
"We have no money," I replied, not looking up. "Unless you want to rob a student, which would get us expelled."
"Robbing is fast," Zane suggested.
"Expulsion is faster. We need a sustainable income. I'm working on a—"
BANG.
The iron door of our room flew open. It hit the stone wall with a crack that echoed like a gunshot. Zane dropped to the floor instantly, crouching in a combat stance, a growl building in his throat.
Three figures stood in the doorway. They weren't Vex. They wore the white and gold armbands of the Discipline Committee. Leading them was a second-year student I recognized from the novel's database: Cassius Ironwood. A user of Earth Magic. Rigid, inflexible, and obsessed with rules. He was the type of guy who would arrest his own mother for jaywalking.
"Room Inspection!" Cassius barked, stepping inside. He held a clipboard like a weapon. "We received an anonymous tip regarding the possession of Forbidden Artifacts in Room C-104."
I stood up slowly, raising my hands in a gesture of surrender. "We have nothing here, senior. Just clothes and books."
"We'll see," Cassius sneered. He looked at Zane with undisguised disgust. "Restrain the Ogre."
Two other committee members stepped forward, wands drawn. Zane's eyes flared red. The insult "Ogre" was bad enough, but pointing wands at him? That was a threat. I felt the spike in his heartbeat through the Ring. The silence I was feeding him began to fracture under his rising rage.
"Zane," I said sharply. He looked at me. "Stand down. Let them look."
Zane hesitated. His muscles were coiled springs. He wanted to rip their arms off. But he remembered the deal. Obedience equals silence. He exhaled slowly, unclenching his fists, and stepped back against the wall. "Fine."
Cassius looked disappointed. He wanted a fight. It would have made his job easier. "Search everything," Cassius ordered. "Mattresses, bags, floorboards."
They tore the room apart. Clothes were thrown onto the wet floor. My notebooks were shaken out. They even checked inside the hollow metal posts of the bunk beds. I watched calmly. I knew we were clean. The Ring of Whispers was on my finger, disguised as a cheap iron band. They wouldn't detect it unless they were expert appraisers.
"Nothing here, sir," one of the lackeys said after ten minutes.
Cassius frowned. "Check the Ogre's bed again. Under the pillow."
The lackey went back to Zane's bunk. He lifted the thin, straw-stuffed pillow. He paused. "Sir. I found something."
He pulled out a small, black velvet pouch. My eyes narrowed. That wasn't there this morning. I made my bed myself.
Cassius snatched the pouch. He opened it and poured the contents into his gloved hand. A pile of glittering, purple dust. Dream-Shade Dust. A highly addictive, hallucinogenic narcotic made from crushed demonic flora. Possession of this was an immediate expulsion felony. And a one-way ticket to the prison mines.
"Well, well," Cassius looked at Zane triumphantly. "Dream-Shade. Explains why you're so numb, monster. You're high."
"That's not mine," Zane growled. The calmness was gone. He stepped forward. "I don't use drugs."
"Save it for the tribunal," Cassius said. He pulled out a pair of Mana-Cuffs. "You're under arrest. Both of you."
I looked at the dust. Then I looked at Cassius. Then, I looked at the lackey who "found" it. A skinny boy with nervous eyes. 'A setup,' I thought. 'Vex. He didn't come himself. He sent the law. Smart.'
If Zane fought now, we were guilty. If we went quietly, we were guilty. The only way out was to destroy the evidence. Or rather, destroy the validity of the evidence.
"Wait," I said. My voice was calm. Unnaturally calm.
Cassius turned to me. "Silence, trash. You can speak when you're expelled."
"If you arrest us now," I said, walking closer, "you will be making a grave mistake. One that might cost you your badge, Cassius."
Cassius paused. "Are you threatening a Discipline Officer?"
"No. I'm offering you a science lesson." I pointed at the purple dust in his hand. "That is Dream-Shade, yes?"
"Obviously."
"Dream-Shade is a volatile substance," I recited, as if reading from a textbook. "It reacts to thermal energy. Specifically, body heat. When kept close to a living body for more than an hour, the purple crystals turn grey due to oxidation."
I looked at Zane's bed. "You claim that pouch was under Zane's pillow. Zane has been sleeping there all night. And he was doing push-ups on that bed for the last hour. His body heat is high."
I looked back at the dust. It was a vibrant, sparkling purple. "If that dust had been there for even twenty minutes, it would be grey. The fact that it is still purple proves it was introduced to the environment... less than sixty seconds ago."
The room went silent. Cassius looked at the dust. He looked at the bed. He wasn't stupid. He was rigid, but he wasn't stupid. He knew the properties of alchemical substances. "It... implies..." Cassius muttered.
"It implies," I continued, turning my gaze to the skinny lackey, "that the dust didn't come from the bed. It came from the hand of the person who searched the bed."
The lackey's face went pale. "T-that's a lie! I found it!"
"Did you?" I asked. "Or did someone give it to you? Someone who wants the 'Ogre' gone?"
Zane took a step toward the lackey. He didn't roar. He just stared. The lackey broke. He wasn't a trained spy. He was a student who had been bribed. "I... I didn't mean to!" the boy stammered, backing away. "Professor Vex said it was just a test! He said—"
He covered his mouth. Too late.
Cassius stiffened. He looked at his subordinate with cold fury. The Discipline Committee prided itself on being the "Sword of Justice." Being used as a pawn in a teacher's personal vendetta was an insult to their honor. "Professor Vex... gave you this?" Cassius asked, his voice low and dangerous.
The lackey nodded, terrified.
Cassius closed his hand over the dust. He crushed it. He turned to me. "You. Aren." He looked at me with a new expression. Not respect, exactly. But wariness. "You know a lot about narcotics for a first-year."
"I read a lot," I replied innocently.
Cassius gestured to the other guard. "Grab the traitor," he pointed at the lackey. "We're leaving."
He stopped at the door and looked back at us. "This... didn't happen. The Committee does not make mistakes. Do we understand each other?"
"Clear as crystal," I smiled.
Cassius stormed out, dragging the crying lackey with him. The door slammed shut.
We were alone again. Zane let out a long breath. He sat down heavily on his bunk. The adrenaline was leaving his system, leaving him exhausted. "You talked them down," Zane said. "With dust colors."
"Details matter, Zane."
"Was it true?" he asked. "Does purple dust turn grey?"
I smirked. "No idea. I made that up."
Zane blinked. "What?"
"Dream-Shade doesn't change color with heat. It changes color with moisture. But Cassius is an Earth Mage, not an Alchemist. He knows rocks, not drugs. I sounded confident, so he believed me." I tapped my temple. "It's not about the truth. It's about the lie that sounds most like the truth."
Zane stared at me. Then, for the first time since I met him, the corners of his mouth twitched upward. A smile. It was terrifying—showing too many teeth—but it was a smile. "You are dangerous," Zane said.
"We both are," I corrected. "But Vex missed. And now, he knows he missed."
The Faculty Tower - Vex's Office
Professor Vex stood by his window, watching the sun set. The door opened. Cassius Ironwood entered. He didn't bow. He walked up to the desk and slammed a report down.
"Your 'tip' was false, Professor," Cassius said coldly. "And your student assistant confessed to planting evidence."
Vex didn't turn around. His reflection in the glass showed a face twisted in irritation. "Is that so? How disappointing. Students these days are so dishonest."
"Don't play games with the Committee," Cassius warned. "We serve the Academy, not you. If you try to use my men for your dirty work again, I will report you to the Headmaster."
Cassius turned and left.
Vex waited until the door clicked shut. Then, he screamed. He swept his arm across his desk, sending piles of papers, quills, and inkwells crashing to the floor. "HOW?!" he screeched. "How does a C-Rank gutter-rat outsmart me?!"
He panted, gripping the edge of his desk. He had tried force. Failed. He had tried framing. Failed. The boy, Aren, was slippery. Every time Vex tried to crush him, he slid away.
Vex walked over to a dark cabinet in the corner of his room. He unlocked it with a wave of his hand. Inside, there was a crystal ball. But it wasn't clear. It was filled with swirling, black mist. A communication device to the Underworld.
"If I cannot expel them legally," Vex whispered, his eyes gleaming with madness, "then I will simply have them erased."
He placed his hand on the crystal. "Get me the Broker," Vex commanded the mist. "I have a job. Two first-years. Make it look like an accident."
Undercroft - Room C-104
I was lying in bed, but I couldn't sleep. The victory today was sweet, but it was temporary. Vex had tried a direct legal attack. It failed. That meant his next move would be illegal.
"Zane," I whispered into the darkness.
"Yeah?"
"We need to leave the Academy grounds tomorrow."
"Why?"
"Because we need gear. We need potions. And we need information." I held up my hand, looking at the Ring of Whispers. "And I need to find a way to make money. A lot of it."
"Where do we go?"
"The Trade District," I said. "Specifically, the Golden Scales Auction House."
In the novel, that was where Cian, the outcast noble genius, spent his weekends. Watching the market. Making imaginary trades because his father had cut off his funds. Cian was the "Wallet" of the main party in the original story. But in the story, the Hero recruited him by saving his sister. I didn't have time to save a sister. I was going to recruit him by saving his dignity.
"Get some sleep, big guy," I said. "Tomorrow, we go shopping."