Vaylna Stormcairn
The flesh beast took its time dying.
One of its rear legs continued to twitch long after the rest of its body had collapsed. Its claws dragged shallow grooves through the arena floor whenever the muscles spasmed, each scrape weaker than the last until even that finally stopped.
Vaylna Stormcairn watched the corpse for another second.
Then she lowered the assessment sheet in her hand.
"No."
Beside her, Halvern's pen slowed.
He was a handsome man despite his age, with weathered features, unruly hair, and a beard that had long since surrendered most of its original color to grey.
He looked at his notes.
Then at her.
"No?"
Vaylna kept her attention on the arena.
"No."
A few seconds passed.
Halvern tapped the end of his pen against the clipboard.
"You're going to make me ask, aren't you?"
"Apparently."
"What exactly are you rejecting?"
That finally earned him a glance.
"Vanguard."
"Oh."
He looked back down.
Vaylna's eyebrow rose.
"*Oh?*"
"I thought you meant Combat."
"Of course he passed Combat."
The answer came quickly enough to make Halvern smile.
Vaylna noticed.
Her mouth flattened.
"Don't."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
"I was merely surprised."
"Be surprised quietly."
Below them, Kamrik sat several paces from what remained of the creature.
His body had practically folded the moment the trial ended. One knee rested upright while his forearm hung limply across it, his head bowed as he tried to catch his breath.
His ponytail had nearly come apart during the fight. Black hair spilled around his face now, silver-streaked strands clinging to his forehead and cheeks with sweat.
Blood covered him from the waist up.
Vaylna wasn't entirely certain how much of it belonged to him.
Considering what she had just watched, that was probably more of a compliment to his Origin Spell than to the boy himself.
Kamrik turned his head toward the corpse.
His lips moved.
He paused.
Then made an irritated gesture toward absolutely nothing.
Vaylna stared.
"Is he talking to himself?"
Halvern followed her gaze.
"Apparently."
"Wonderful."
"You dislike him."
"I barely know him."
"You've insulted him four times."
"Five."
Halvern looked over.
Vaylna pushed her glasses farther up her nose.
"I called his footwork offensive earlier."
"Right."
He scratched something into his notes.
"Five, then."
She ignored him.
The irritating thing was that Kamrik hadn't fought badly enough for her to dismiss him.
Not entirely.
When brute force stopped working, he had adapted.
Once he understood that the creature could rebuild itself faster than he could carve it apart, he abandoned attrition and turned Bloodrend against the enormous quantity of blood sustaining the construct instead.
That had been clever.
The final attack had been cleverer.
A less observant student might never have noticed the stitching hidden beneath the ruined folds of flesh, much less recognized what it meant while being hunted around an arena.
Vaylna could appreciate that.
She could also appreciate that before reaching that solution, Kamrik had allowed the creature to crack his wrist, break his ribs, and swat him across the arena repeatedly because Bloodrend happened to erase the consequences afterward.
Merrow wandered over from the other side of the observation platform and rested an elbow against the railing.
"He surprised you."
Vaylna didn't look at him.
"I expected him to die?"
Merrow's eyebrows climbed.
"Did you?"
"No."
She paused.
"Fail, certainly."
Halvern snorted.
Vaylna shot him a look.
Below them, Kamrik finally attempted to stand.
He got halfway upright before his body stiffened. A hand immediately clamped over his ribs.
His mouth moved.
Probably a curse.
Then he sat back down.
Vaylna gestured toward him.
"There."
Merrow frowned.
"There what?"
"That."
"His ribs hurt?"
"His entire style is built around the assumption that eventually they won't."
Merrow's amusement faded slightly.
Vaylna leaned both hands against the railing.
"Watch him. He can generate force, but half of it is wasted because his lower body doesn't know what his upper body is doing. When he commits to an attack, his feet chase the weapon instead of supporting it."
"And yet the weapon hits rather hard."
"Because Bloodrend compensates for him."
Halvern shifted beside her.
"You make that sound like a flaw."
"It becomes one when the spell starts rewarding mistakes."
That quieted them.
Vaylna's gaze sharpened.
The middle of the fight had bothered her more than she cared to admit.
The faculty had already been briefed on the sentient nature of Kamrik's mana. Sentient mana itself wasn't unprecedented. Vaylna had encountered it before.
But not like this.
Not to this degree.
The more Bloodrend fed, the less of Kamrik seemed to remain at the wheel.
His caution vanished first.
Then his judgment.
By the end, the boy had been smiling while the construct tried to hammer him into the ground.
For a moment, Vaylna felt something she hadn't expected.
Pity.
He was young.
Far too young to already be fighting something inside himself for ownership of his own impulses.
She could imagine few things worse than slowly becoming something else and being conscious enough to notice it happening.
Her gaze shifted toward Tias.
She had expected the Grand Professor to terminate the assessment.
Tias hadn't.
Of course she hadn't.
If anything, the incident only strengthened Vaylna's decision.
Kamrik did not belong in Vanguard.
Not yet.
"He'll need that corrected," Halvern said quietly.
Vaylna straightened.
"If he wants to live long enough for the rest of his training to matter."
She turned away from the arena.
"But none of that prevents Combat admission."
Merrow followed her.
"Vanguard does."
"Yes."
Her expression tightened as she pulled the next sheet from beneath Kamrik's evaluation.
The cohort list.
Even before reading it, she knew most of the names.
The **Sornarious heir** sat near the top.
Naturally.
Vaylna's thumb brushed the edge of the page.
That family seemed incapable of producing mediocre children. Every few years, another Sornarious arrived at Valthrune with impeccable fundamentals and enough confidence to make the faculty wish mediocrity occasionally ran in the blood.
Her eyes moved lower.
The **Caelmont girl**.
Vaylna paused.
Halvern noticed immediately.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You stopped."
"I can read at different speeds."
He chuckled.
"Of course."
Vaylna continued before he became more annoying.
House **Anubeca's daughter** had qualified as well.
Her lips pressed together.
That girl.
Vaylna still wasn't entirely sure what to make of her.
She had watched the assessment twice, mostly because after the first viewing she wondered whether exhaustion had somehow altered her perception of events.
It hadn't.
The girl simply enjoyed combat far too much.
And unlike Kamrik, it wasn't because her magic had dragged her into some altered state.
Anubeca's daughter had been perfectly lucid.
That was the problem.
Every time the danger increased, she seemed to become happier.
Not reckless.
Recklessness would have made her easier to understand.
She knew exactly where an opponent's reach ended. Exactly how much ground she could surrender before losing the exchange. She baited attacks because she wanted them thrown, then slipped past them with a grin that widened every time her opponent came close enough to actually hurt her.
She fought like someone who had found the only place in the world where she genuinely wanted to be.
Vaylna found that considerably more concerning.
Her finger moved farther down the page.
Then stopped.
**Dawn.**
A cold prickle crawled over the back of her neck.
Vaylna scowled at the name.
Halvern leaned slightly closer.
She folded the paper inward before he could see where her attention had landed.
Ridiculous.
She had spent decades teaching prodigies.
Children arrived at Valthrune every year carrying surnames people whispered about. Most became considerably less impressive once the servants disappeared, the uniforms went on, and somebody finally told them no.
That one...
Her jaw tightened.
*That monster from House Dawn.*
Even Vaylna had found the assessment unpleasant to watch.
Not because it had gone badly.
Quite the opposite.
She moved on.
This year's Vanguard cohort wasn't merely strong.
It was grotesque.
Merrow reached for the sheet.
Vaylna let him take it.
"Look at them."
He scanned the names.
His expression softened into something almost amused.
"I have."
"Then tell me why we're considering putting Kamrik in the same room."
Merrow lowered the page.
"Because he might belong there."
"Eventually."
"Possibly now."
Vaylna gave him a long look.
Then glanced back through the barrier.
Kamrik had finally managed to stand. An attendant entered the arena and began guiding him toward the exit.
Halfway there, Kamrik abruptly stopped and turned to glare at empty air again.
Vaylna sighed.
"Look at him."
"I am."
"No. *Look* at him."
Merrow's expression became more guarded.
Vaylna gestured toward the candidate list in his hands.
"The Sornarious heir didn't begin training when he arrived at Valthrune. Neither did Anubeca. Half the families on that page employ dedicated instructors who live on their estates."
Merrow's jaw shifted.
There it was.
He knew where this was going.
Vaylna continued anyway.
"Those students had mistakes corrected before Kamrik knew he was making them. They grew up around weapons. Around Pathfinders. Around people wealthy enough to spend years turning talent into technique."
"And Kamrik didn't."
"No."
"Because his house couldn't."
Vaylna looked at him.
"Obviously."
Merrow gave a humorless laugh.
"You say that as if it's a mark against him."
"It is a mark against his preparation."
"That isn't the same thing."
"It becomes the same thing when we're assigning seats."
His expression hardened.
Halvern quietly moved a little farther away.
Coward.
Merrow folded the Vanguard list.
"You really can't help yourself."
Vaylna's eyes narrowed.
"Meaning?"
"He's still nobility, and somehow you've managed to make him sound impoverished."
"He is impoverished compared to Sornarious."
"Everyone is impoverished compared to Sornarious."
"Precisely."
Merrow grimaced.
Vaylna turned toward him fully.
"This is what irritates me about these discussions. You think acknowledging inequality means endorsing it."
"I think you enjoy acknowledging it."
"Sometimes."
He stared.
At least she was honest.
Vaylna took the candidate sheet back.
"His house could not buy him the years those families bought theirs. That isn't his fault."
Merrow looked almost surprised.
She continued before he could say anything stupid.
"It also doesn't give those years back."
Some of the irritation left his face.
"Potential still matters."
"Of course it does."
"Then—"
"Potential gets him Combat."
Vaylna tapped the page lightly against his chest.
"Vanguard is not where we put students because we hope they'll become exceptional someday."
Her expression sharpened.
"You and I both know what we're raising there."
Merrow's eyes flicked toward the arena.
Vaylna followed them.
"The people who will leave these walls and walk where everyone else is afraid to. The ones expected to push civilization farther than it was yesterday."
She lowered the paper.
"That is the future of humanity we are training."
Merrow went quiet.
Then, inevitably—
"He killed a tier-three griffin."
Vaylna rolled her eyes.
"There it is."
She turned away.
"Again."
"You can't ignore that."
"I'm not."
She leaned against the railing, watching attendants begin cutting the remains of the flesh construct into manageable sections.
"He survived an extraordinary situation. Good. He awakened an extraordinary Origin Spell. Better. Then he defeated something several tiers stronger than himself."
Merrow waited.
Vaylna looked sideways at him.
"Something made almost entirely from the substance his Origin Spell eats."
His mouth tightened.
"You're diminishing the achievement."
"I'm contextualizing it."
"The creature could still have killed him."
"It nearly did."
"Yet it didn't."
"Because he learned."
Merrow blinked.
Vaylna's expression softened by the smallest amount.
"Which is why I said he has potential."
She pushed away from the railing.
"But put him into this Vanguard class now, and you aren't rewarding potential. You're asking him to compete against people who already turned theirs into skill."
No one answered immediately.
The voting began soon afterward.
Combat was simple; everyone marked him through.
Vanguard was not. One recommendation was followed by a rejection, then another.
Merrow voted yes.
Vaylna caught his eye when he did.
He smiled.
She marked no.
By the end, the result wasn't close.
Vaylna gathered the papers and straightened their edges against the railing.
"Well."
Halvern retrieved his clipboard.
"That settles that."
"No."
The voice came from behind them.
Every head turned.
Grand Professor Tias still stood where she had been for most of the discussion.
Vaylna had almost forgotten she was there.
Almost.
Tias's hands rested loosely behind her back, her blindfold hiding her gaze as she faced the arena.
Vaylna felt her shoulders tense.
"Grand Professor?"
Tias hummed quietly.
"You haven't voted."
"I know."
Vaylna waited.
Tias didn't move.
Below them, the attendants were struggling with one particularly large piece of the construct. One man tried lifting it from the wrong end and nearly disappeared beneath a fold of flesh when it collapsed over his shoulder.
Tias watched with mild interest.
Vaylna finally stepped closer.
"Well?"
Tias turned her face toward her.
"Well what?"
Vaylna stared.
"The placement."
"Oh."
The corner of Tias's mouth lifted.
"He isn't Vanguard caliber."
Relief loosened something in Vaylna's chest.
"Good."
"I didn't say not to place him there."
The relief vanished.
Merrow looked delighted.
Vaylna scowled at him before turning back to Tias.
"You just agreed with the assessment."
"I did."
"Then why—"
"I want him."
The interruption landed strangely.
Halvern stopped halfway through gathering his papers.
Vaylna frowned.
"For Vanguard?"
Tias's smile widened.
"For me."
Silence.
Tias allowed it to sit there until the discomfort became almost tangible.
Then she added, lazily—
"I'll take him as my apprentice."
A pen struck the floor.
Halvern looked down at it.
Then back at Tias.
He didn't pick it up.
Vaylna's mouth opened before she had decided what she intended to say.
"No."
Tias turned.
"No?"
"You don't take apprentices."
"I suppose I'll have to stop telling people that."
"Ma'am."
Vaylna stepped closer.
"Forty years."
Tias's brow rose slightly beneath the blindfold.
"I'm aware."
"Are you?"
"I was here for most of them."
A professor behind Vaylna choked on a laugh.
She ignored him.
"The Valemonts offered you unrestricted access to their western archives."
Tias's nose wrinkled.
"Those were mostly genealogical records."
"You rejected them before you knew that!"
"I had suspicions."
"The Darrow heir challenged three senior Combat students because he thought it would impress you."
"It did."
Vaylna faltered.
Tias smiled.
"He was very persistent."
"He spent four days in the infirmary!"
"I was impressed by the persistence, not the judgment."
Vaylna pinched the bridge of her nose.
Merrow had turned away.
His shoulders were shaking.
"House Edras offered you an ancestral relic."
"Ugly thing."
"Ma'am!"
"Very ugly."
Vaylna lowered her hand.
"You've rejected students who arrived here already stronger than Kamrik is now. Heirs from houses that would have given you practically anything."
"Yes."
"And suddenly *this one* interests you?"
Tias tilted her head.
"Yes."
Nothing else came.
Vaylna waited.
Tias seemed perfectly content with the silence.
Her jaw clenched.
"Why?"
Tias's face turned toward the tunnel through which Kamrik had disappeared.
"He interests me."
"That isn't a reason."
"It is to me."
Vaylna could feel her patience unraveling.
"What exactly are you seeing?"
Tias gave a small shrug.
"I haven't decided."
"You haven't—"
"He reacts strangely."
Vaylna stopped.
Tias idly tapped one finger against her opposite arm.
"He learns quickly when frightened. He lies badly when he believes he's lying well. He makes decisions that should get him killed, survives them, then seems personally offended that they almost worked."
A quiet laugh escaped her.
"He's amusing."
Vaylna stared.
"You're breaking forty years of precedent because you're amused."
"Not entirely."
"Oh, thank the gods."
Tias gestured toward the bloody arena.
"He'll be useful for cleanup."
Silence.
Vaylna looked toward the carnage, then slowly back at her.
"...Cleanup."
"His Origin Spell eats blood."
"I know what it does."
"Then you understand the convenience."
One of the professors behind them coughed.
Vaylna turned.
Nobody met her eyes.
She faced Tias again.
"You want your first apprentice in forty years because he entertains you and would make a convenient mop."
"When you phrase it that way, it sounds rather reductive."
"It *is* reductive!"
Tias smiled.
"You asked."
Vaylna inhaled slowly through her nose.
Somehow, Tias had managed to turn outrage into exhaustion.
"He didn't earn Vanguard."
"No."
No hesitation.
Vaylna's anger stalled.
Tias moved toward the observation barrier.
"He isn't good enough."
She placed her fingertips against the glass.
"Not yet."
Vaylna joined her.
"So why give him the seat?"
Tias glanced toward the candidate sheet still in Vaylna's hand.
Her gaze skimmed the names—Sornarious, Caelmont, Anubeca, Dawn. That was the room Tias intended to throw him into.
"Because if I'm going to teach him, I want him somewhere uncomfortable."
Vaylna's expression darkened.
"Those students are not training equipment."
"No."
Tias sounded almost offended.
"They're considerably more dangerous."
"And if he can't keep up?"
Tias smiled.
"Then he'll learn."
"And if he doesn't?"
This time she looked directly toward Vaylna.
"Then I chose poorly."
That was apparently the entire extent of her concern.
Vaylna stared.
"I object."
"I know."
"Formally."
"Please do."
"I will."
"I'll read it."
Vaylna narrowed her eyes.
"You won't."
Tias's smile turned almost sheepish.
"Probably not."
Vaylna could practically feel a vein beating in her forehead.
"You are infuriating."
"I've been told."
Tias turned toward the exit.
Vaylna watched her walk away.
"People are going to lose their minds."
That stopped her.
Tias glanced over one shoulder.
For the first time since announcing the apprenticeship, her smile showed genuine amusement.
"I know."
Then she left.
Vaylna stood there with Kamrik's assessment still in her hand.
A few seconds later, Merrow wandered over.
Neither of them spoke.
Then he glanced toward the door.
"Cleanup?"
Vaylna closed her eyes.
"Don't."
**Kamrik**
By the time we reached Tias's office, the excitement from the fight had completely drained out of me.
Unfortunately, pain had apparently been waiting underneath it.
Every step made something ache.
At first I thought my ribs were the worst. Then my back protested. A second later, my shoulder joined in.
I stopped ranking them.
The staff member escorting me walked three paces ahead without once looking back.
"So where are we going?"
Nothing.
I waited.
"Cool."
Sleazy floated backward in front of me, hands folded behind his head.
"He may be shy."
"He's ignoring me."
"That too."
I looked toward the escort again.
"Is there a rule against speaking to injured students?"
His shoulders tightened.
Progress.
"Grand Professor Tias requested you."
"See? That wasn't difficult."
He said nothing else.
I leaned slightly toward Sleazy.
"He hates me."
"You've known him for forty seconds."
"I'm efficient."
Knight appeared on my other side.
"You should conserve your energy."
"I'm walking."
"You are limping."
"That's walking with character."
Bloody stepped through the wall beside us.
"The creature was disappointing."
I looked over.
"It broke my ribs."
"You still have them."
"That isn't the point."
"You complained considerably more when you lost your glasses."
"Because those didn't grow back."
Bloody considered that.
"Fair."
We eventually stopped outside a broad wooden door.
The staff member knocked once.
"Enter."
Tias.
Of course.
He opened the door and stepped aside.
I limped through.
Then stopped.
Books lined the walls, plants sat near a broad window, and a desk stood between two completely normal chairs.
I looked around again.
Nothing screamed.
Nothing twitched.
Nothing appeared to have once been human.
Sleazy floated past my shoulder.
"Huh."
"Right?"
"I expected worse."
"So did I."
Tias sat behind the desk in her public form, black hair falling neatly behind her shoulders and horns rising above the blindfold.
She looked respectable.
That was becoming deeply unsettling.
"Leave us."
The staff member bowed.
The door shut behind him.
We waited until his footsteps faded.
Tias lowered her head.
"My lord."
I sighed.
"Still hate that."
"I remember."
"Then why are you still doing it?"
She smiled.
I pointed at her.
"Exactly."
My attention drifted toward the chair opposite her desk.
Then hers.
Hers was enormous, with deep cushions, a high back, and wide armrests—the kind of chair designed by someone who believed comfort should visibly demonstrate social rank.
My ribs throbbed.
Tias stood.
"Sit here."
I looked at her.
"That's your chair."
"Yes."
"And?"
"And you're injured."
"I'm aware."
"Then sit."
I glanced toward the guest chair.
Perfectly serviceable.
My back spasmed.
I looked at hers again.
Tias waited.
"Fine."
I shuffled around the desk and practically collapsed into it.
The cushions swallowed me.
My entire body sank.
"...Oh."
Tias's mouth twitched.
I shifted deeper.
"Oh, that's ridiculous."
"Comfortable?"
"Why does your chair feel better than my bed?"
"I spend more time here."
"That's depressing."
"It was expensive."
"Less depressing."
I let my head fall against the backrest.
For the first time since entering the arena, my body stopped screaming quite so loudly.
My shirt, unfortunately, had glued itself to me with sweat, blood, and bits of flesh beast I preferred not to identify.
I shrugged off my coat, draped it over the other armrest, then hooked two fingers under my shirt collar and grimaced.
"Nope."
Knight frowned.
"What?"
"This shirt is disgusting."
Before he could object, I started undoing it.
His frown deepened.
"We are in the Grand Professor's office."
"She watched me get folded in half ten minutes ago."
"That does not make this appropriate."
He paused.
One hand rose thoughtfully to his chin.
"Though I do dislike her, so perhaps I find myself less concerned than I should."
I stared.
"Uh-huh. All right, old man."
I peeled the shirt from my shoulders.
The fabric caught halfway down one arm.
I tugged.
Pain flashed across my side.
"Ow—fuck."
Tias stepped forward.
I immediately held out a hand.
"I've got it."
The last thing I wanted was her touching me again.
After a brief struggle, the shirt finally came free.
I threw it over the armrest and slumped back into the chair, bare-chested, bruises and half-faded red marks scattered across my torso.
Tias studied the damage.
"Bloodrend has repaired most of it."
"Most."
"You'll live."
I glanced down at her.
"Oh, thank you."
I closed my eyes for half a second.
When I opened them again, Tias was lowering herself onto the carpet beside the desk.
I stared.
She tucked her legs beneath herself and settled comfortably onto the floor.
"...What are you doing?"
"Sitting."
"That's the floor."
She glanced toward the chair currently swallowing me.
"Mine is occupied."
"There's another chair."
"You didn't like it."
"I sat in it for five seconds."
"And complained."
"I complain about everything."
"So I've noticed."
Sleazy appeared beside her, looked down, then toward me.
"My maternal figure has surrendered her throne."
"It's an office chair."
"Look at yourself."
I looked down.
I was practically horizontal.
"Okay. Fair."
Tias loosely folded her hands in her lap.
"You wanted to speak with me."
Right.
I pushed myself slightly upright.
The chair seemed personally opposed to the idea.
"I need Vanguard."
Tias nodded.
"I know."
I frowned.
"You know?"
"It follows."
"From what?"
"Carlos."
That killed the amusement immediately.
My hand stopped against the armrest.
Tias either didn't notice or chose not to.
"The Scripture placed the intended Fifth Apostle upon the path toward Vanguard."
Something in her voice shifted.
Subtle.
More reverent.
"And now the gifts belong to you."
I looked away.
"Yeah."
Tias lowered her head.
"Then Vanguard remains the proper path."
I stared at her.
That was...
Unexpectedly easy.
"You agree?"
"Of course."
"Completely?"
She lifted her head.
"Why wouldn't I?"
I opened my mouth.
Then closed it.
I had prepared explanations about the Champion of Light, the constants, and some vaguely religious argument for why I needed to stand near them when the important events began.
Apparently Tias had skipped over all of that and constructed the theology herself.
"The Scripture's path did not cease simply because its first vessel failed to complete it."
My stomach tightened.
*Failed.*
She had no idea what she had just stepped on.
Tias continued.
"If Carlos was meant to enter Vanguard and the gifts passed to you instead, I see little reason to divert you from the same path."
I sank backward.
"Great."
"Mm."
"So I made it?"
A pause.
"...No."
I stopped sinking.
"...What?"
Her mouth curved upward.
"The others rejected you."
I sat forward.
My ribs immediately objected.
I grabbed my side.
"Fuck—Vanguard?"
"Yes."
"I killed the monster."
"You did."
"It was stronger than me."
"It was."
"It grew its arm back."
"I remember."
"You made it!"
Tias chuckled.
"I also remember that."
I stared down at her.
The blindfold made it impossible to know exactly where her attention rested, but the smile made one thing perfectly clear.
She was enjoying this.
"You think this is funny."
"A little."
"What exactly did they want me to do?"
Her smile faded.
Not entirely.
Enough.
"Fight it."
I scowled.
"I did."
"You survived it."
I started to argue.
Tias lifted one finger.
"The distinction matters."
My jaw clicked shut.
She shifted on the carpet, one hand bracing lightly against the floor.
"Bloodrend repaired your mistakes faster than the creature could punish them. That does not mean the mistakes disappeared."
"I figured that out."
"Eventually."
"You're really enjoying that word today."
"Only a little."
I leaned back and stared at the ceiling.
"I liked you better when you were worshipping me."
"I could kneel."
My head snapped down.
"Don't."
Tias smiled.
"Very well."
I exhaled.
The irritating part was that she was right.
I had already reached the exact same conclusion in the arena.
Bloodrend hadn't made me skilled.
It had made me hard to kill.
There was a very important difference.
"So."
I rubbed a hand across my stomach.
"What happens now?"
"You enter Vanguard."
I frowned.
"But they rejected me."
"They did."
"And?"
Tias turned one palm upward.
"I overruled them."
I stared.
"...Can you do that?"
"Apparently."
For half a second, excitement shot through me.
Then died.
Something about how casually she said it made a dark little premonition crawl up my spine.
"What did you do?"
Her smile returned.
"I took you as my apprentice."
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Knight's eyebrows climbed. Sleazy was practically folded over himself laughing, Lazy opened one eye from whatever nap he'd decided to take, and Bloody merely looked interested.
I stared back at Tias.
"You did what?"
"You're my apprentice."
"Since when?"
"A few minutes ago."
I slowly dragged a hand down my face.
"You made me your apprentice before asking me."
"Yes."
This damn woman and her short answers.
"Why?"
"You needed Vanguard."
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"That's not how consent works."
"You're welcome to refuse."
My tongue clicked against my teeth.
"You know I can't do that."
Tias nodded pleasantly.
"Of course."
I stared down at her.
She smiled innocently back.
Sleazy was still laughing.
I pointed at him.
"Stop."
He raised both hands.
"Wouldn't dream of it, Seer."
I looked back to Tias.
"Have you done this before?"
"Taken an apprentice?"
"Yes."
"Not here."
"How long have you worked here again?"
Her head angled slightly to one side.
Or I thought it did.
Blindfold.
"Approximately forty years."
I slowly straightened.
"Forty."
"Yes."
"And you've never taken one."
"No."
I frowned.
"Then what exactly did you say that convinced them I was somehow the one?"
Tias shrugged.
"You're interesting."
I stared.
"That's your reason?"
"Partly."
"What's the other part?"
Her smile widened.
"You'll be useful for cleanup."
Silence.
Bloody started laughing.
Then Sleazy joined him again.
I scowled down at Tias.
"Cleanup."
"You possess an Origin Spell that consumes blood, and I create a surprising amount of it."
"Oh, I'm aware."
My eyes wandered from the desk to the walls before settling back on her.
"How often?"
"Enough."
"That's horrifyingly vague."
"It was meant to be."
She looked entirely too pleased with herself.
I sank farther into the chair and covered my eyes with one forearm.
Great.
I was going to be famous.
Not for killing the griffin, either.
I was going to be the random Studies student a Grand Professor picked after forty years because apparently I had janitorial potential.
Knight cleared his throat.
"Kamrik."
"What?"
"She is still a tier-seven mage."
My arm lowered.
I looked through the gap beneath it.
Knight gestured toward Tias.
I followed his hand.
She sat comfortably on the carpet: three hundred years old, tier seven, a Combat Grand Professor, and probably one of the strongest people in the East.
My irritation faded—not completely, but enough for the problem underneath it to come back into focus: the arena, Bloodrend dragging me through mistakes I hadn't even known I was making, and the students waiting in Vanguard who had spent years becoming what I'd decided four days ago I suddenly needed to compete with.
My arm fell away from my face.
Tias noticed.
"What?"
I stared at her.
"You'd actually train me."
Her head tilted.
"That is generally what apprentices are for."
"No. I mean *properly*."
"What did you think I intended to do?"
"Honestly?"
I glanced around the office.
"Cult stuff."
Tias smiled.
"That too."
"Great."
I rubbed my jaw.
Still...
I couldn't get ten years back.
I couldn't retroactively become one of those children who'd been given a sword before they could spell their own names.
But I could stop wasting the time I had.
And if that time was spent learning from someone like Tias...
"...This is actually good for me."
"Naturally."
"Don't."
Her smile grew.
I leaned forward, elbows resting against my knees.
"If I'm going to stay in Vanguard, getting stronger isn't enough."
Tias simply waited.
"I need to stop fighting like somebody who got his abilities four days ago."
"You *did* get them four days ago," Sleazy said from behind me.
"Not helping."
I looked down at my hands.
"Those students have years on me. I'm not catching them by copying whatever training they're already doing."
That thought had been gnawing at me since the arena.
Now the solution was sitting cross-legged on the carpet.
I glanced at her.
"If I need to compress years into months..."
Her smile slowly returned.
I grimaced.
"Don't look so happy."
"I haven't said anything."
"Your face did."
"My face is covered."
"Exactly what I said earlier."
She laughed softly.
I sighed.
"Fine."
Tias leaned forward slightly.
"Fine?"
"I'll be your apprentice."
"You already are."
"Let me pretend I have agency."
"Of course, my lord."
I pointed at her.
"And stop doing that during training."
"No."
"Tias."
She smiled.
I fell back into the chair.
This was going to be miserable.
Definitely miserable.
Bloody, who had been suspiciously quiet, suddenly leaned over the back of the chair until his mouth was beside my ear.
"Ask for her blood."
I slowly turned my head.
"What?"
He nodded toward Tias.
"Her blood."
I stared at him.
He stared back.
"No."
His brow furrowed.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not asking a woman for her blood in the middle of a conversation."
"You stabbed a friend in the back and threw him out of a tree."
My face went still.
Bloody's grin sharpened.
"...That's different."
"If you say so."
He leaned away.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then his eyes drifted back toward Tias.
"But I'm still right."
I hated that he probably was.
"What exactly are you thinking?"
That immediately brightened him.
"Bloodrend stores what it consumes."
"Blood and mana."
My eyes narrowed.
"I know."
Bloody grinned.
"She is tier seven."
"You might not realize this, but the mana concentration in her blood is more than seven hundred times higher than yours."
"So ask."
I looked toward Tias.
She couldn't hear him, but apparently she could feel all the staring because her head tilted toward me.
"Yes?"
"Nothing."
Bloody leaned closer.
"Ask."
"No."
"I said ask."
"Repeating yourself isn't persuasive."
Sleazy drifted over the desk.
"What are we discussing?"
"Nothing."
"Blood," Bloody said.
Sleazy couldn't hear him, of course.
Lazy's eyes narrowed instead.
"Bloody has an idea."
I looked toward him.
"How did you know?"
"Your expression."
"What expression?"
"The one you make when you know you're wrong."
I scowled.
Lazy nodded.
"That one."
Tias was still waiting.
This was becoming awkward.
I scratched the side of my neck.
"So..."
Her smile returned immediately.
"Oh dear."
"Don't."
"What would you like?"
I hesitated.
Then pointed at her.
"Your blood."
Tias blinked.
Once.
That was more reaction than I expected.
"...My blood?"
Bloody pumped a fist behind her.
I ignored him.
"Just a few vials."
Her head tilted farther.
"If I may ask—why?"
Finally.
A normal question.
I gestured toward my chest.
"Bloodrend keeps what it consumes. Blood, obviously, but some of the mana too."
Understanding crossed her expression before I finished.
"You intend to carry mine."
"As emergency fuel."
Tias considered that.
For a moment, I expected some objection.
Or at least some cult nonsense about sacred blood.
Instead—
"How much?"
I blinked.
"That's it?"
"What else would there be?"
"I don't know. Concern?"
"Should I be concerned?"
"Probably."
That seemed to amuse her.
Tias rose from the floor and crossed toward one of the cabinets behind her desk.
Bloody followed eagerly.
I watched him.
"If you lick the vial, I'm killing you."
"I can't touch it."
"You'll find a way."
Tias opened one of the drawers.
I frowned.
"Why do you already have blood vials?"
She glanced over her shoulder.
"You know why."
Right.
Flesh Manipulation.
Stupid question.
She returned with three narrow glass tubes and placed them on the desk beside me.
Then she dragged one fingernail across her palm.
A clean line opened.
Dark crimson blood welled from it.
Almost black.
Before a single drop could fall, the blood lifted.
Thin ribbons curled upward from her palm and flowed through the air before slipping neatly into the first vial.
I watched it fill.
Something moved beneath my skin.
Bloodrend.
*Taste.*
I frowned.
That was new.
Bloodrend had never reacted this strongly without even being summoned.
Tias sealed the first vial and reached for another.
Heat spread through the markings along my forearm.
*Taste.*
Bloody leaned over my shoulder.
"Do you smell that?"
"No."
"You're swallowing."
I froze.
Only then did I notice my mouth.
Too much saliva.
I swallowed.
My throat somehow felt dry immediately afterward.
Tias finished filling the third vial.
Even at my measly tier two, I could feel mana leaking from the blood into the room.
Not violently.
It simply existed with weight.
Standing near it felt like standing beside an enormous animal and suddenly realizing just how small you were.
Tias picked up one of the tubes.
"Here."
I reached for it.
The instant my fingertips touched the glass—
**THUMP.**
My heart slammed painfully against my ribs.
I sucked in a breath.
Bloodrend surged beneath my skin.
*Taste.*
My grip tightened.
The vial was cold.
The blood didn't *look* cold.
That made no sense.
It sat thick inside the glass, so dark it became nearly black where the light failed to catch it.
And the mana—
God.
I could feel it.
Through the glass.
My mouth watered again.
*Open it.*
I swallowed hard.
Bloody's grin returned.
"See?"
"Shut up."
Tias frowned.
"I haven't said anything."
"Not you."
*Drink.*
My thumb moved.
Barely.
Toward the seal.
I stopped.
For a moment, I just stared at my own hand.
Then at the vial.
And something deeply unpleasant occurred to me.
Bloodrend wanted it.
That much was obvious.
But the sensation twisting through my stomach wasn't entirely foreign.
I wanted it too.
My throat moved again.
A thin line of saliva escaped the corner of my mouth before I even noticed.
I wiped it away quickly.
My hand trembled.
Oh.
That was bad.
Bloodrend's sentience had been affecting me during the fight.
I knew that.
I just hadn't expected the boundary between what *it* wanted and what *I* wanted to blur this quickly.
I stared back at the vial.
My stomach tightened.
I could imagine the taste, could almost feel it coating my tongue—warm, metallic, and dense with mana.
"What the fuck..."
Bloody's voice softened beside my ear.
"Drink."
I jerked the vial away from my face.
"Nope."
Bloody recoiled.
"Coward."
"I'm not drinking her blood!"
"You asked for it."
"For **emergencies!**"
He laughed.
"Right. Emergencies."
I growled.
Tias was openly studying me now, her head tilted with unmistakable curiosity.
I pointed at her.
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're taking notes."
"I am taking mental notes."
"That's what I just told you not to do."
I shoved the vial into the pocket of my discarded shirt.
Bloodrend immediately dragged my attention toward it.
*Taste.*
My stomach twisted.
I grabbed the other two from Tias before she could offer them separately and shoved them beside the first.
Glass clicked softly against glass.
Bloody stared at the pocket.
"Oh, one more thing," Tias said.
I watched as she reached behind her back and pulled out a tiny piece of flesh.
A shiver ran down my spine.
"What are you going to do with that?"
"Watch."
The flesh shifted in her palm, folding in on itself until it hardened into a small black cube.
I raised an eyebrow.
"You turned a cube into another cube."
Tias ignored me and pressed her thumb against the top.
The box opened.
Three grooves sat inside, each perfectly shaped for one of the vials.
"This will conceal their magical signature," she said. "I added a small suppression ward. Tier-seven blood is potent enough that some of the professors would notice you carrying it."
Oh.
"Yeah, probably don't want that."
Tias retrieved the three vials and placed them into the case one by one.
The moment she closed the box, the heavy presence of her mana disappeared.
Bloodrend still knew the blood was there, but its pull became faint enough to ignore.
Mostly.
I took the case and slipped it into my coat.
Bloody stared at the pocket.
"So we're carrying three meals."
"Emergency supplies."
"Meals."
"Supplies."
"Meals."
Knight stepped between us.
"Enough."
Bloody scowled.
Knight ignored him.
"Kamrik."
"Yeah?"
"Do not use those casually."
I pressed my palm against the pocket.
Warmth pulsed beneath my skin in response.
"No shit. You saw what happened with the flesh monster. If I drank this, I'd probably turn into a bat or something."
Lazy drifted closer.
"I don't believe bats drink blood."
I looked at him.
"That's the part you're correcting?"
He shrugged.
"Accuracy matters."
Then his expression sharpened.
"But seriously—do not take an entire vial."
I stopped joking.
Lazy looked toward the pocket.
"Half."
"Half?"
"Until we know what the concentration does to you, half at most."
I nodded slowly.
That sounded considerably smarter than anything Bloody had suggested.
Sleazy leaned against the edge of the desk.
"I vote for all three simultaneously."
I stared at him.
"Why?"
"Curiosity."
"I thought you liked me."
"I do."
He smiled.
That somehow made it worse.
I let myself collapse backward into Tias's chair, and the cushions swallowed me again.
Vanguard. Somehow, I was actually going.
I rested my head against the chair and closed my eyes.
I had wanted a way to catch up.
Apparently, I had found several.
None of them seemed particularly healthy.
As I settled deeper, the case shifted inside my coat pocket.
Even through the suppression ward, Bloodrend stirred beneath my skin.
My throat tightened.
And against my better judgment—
I swallowed again.