Chương 13: The Learning Hall

Anadis walked the hallways of the Learning Hall with Albus by his side as groups of kids shuffled ahead of them. He fanned his tunic, trying to cool the sweat clinging to his back. Solwane might not be as hot as Flamepeak, but it still brought a real warmth, and the halls trapped every bit of it inside. He couldn't wait till Goldturn arrived and brought fall with it—which was actually tomorrow. The best part was how quickly the temperature would change.

Today was sweltering, tomorrow would be chilling, as if the planet itself knew fall was here.

"Fall is here, hear the yell, back to school, ring the bell…" Anadis sang in a whisper. Albus looked at him with mild interest.

"Did you come up with that song?" He frowned. Where had that come from? He'd never heard that song before. He shrugged.

"I don't know… I guess I did." A small, proud smile tugged at his lips.

"But it's not even fall yet." Today was the first day of classes. It had begun with an opening ceremony that was supposed to be brief but dragged on because the head magister apparently didn't know when to stop rambling.

"Your generation will be the stars that'll shine bright in the future," the man had said as he melted under the heat and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The applause seemed to have flattered him as he kept talking, piling more motivation into his speech, though his parched mouth caused his voice to crack, ruining his intent. It wasn't until a chubby kid collapsed from what everyone assumed was heat exhaustion that the head magister was finally forced to mercifully cut his speech short.

Anadis offered a silent prayer for the boy's noble self-sacrifice. The Learning Hall sat on one of the island's highest plateaus, so tall that if he climbed to the top, he could probably see the entire town stretching from one end to the other. Even looking out a window made his stomach drop. The grounds never quite lost their effect on him, even after years of seeing them. Each temple rose with massive, imposing pillars crowned with iconic acanthus ornaments.

Reddish-brown walls fortified the entire compound, and marble statues of the gods stood at each temple's entrance. Hel gazed at the statue depicting her with a haughty, regal pose, her marble wings spread wide. She snorted.

"They made me look so serious." Just like every other year, the first day was more about appearances than anything else, touring the facilities, meeting the magisters, and learning the schedules. Luckily, he and Albus had every class together, with almost the same group of kids. That would help Albus. The poor lad wasn't exactly known for bold introductions. All in all, it should have been a great day. It would have been, if not for one problem: the amount of attention they were receiving.

No matter where they turned, eyes were fixated on them, eyes filled with curiosity and wonder, trailing whispered murmurs. Most of it was directed at Albus.

"Hey, that's them," a girl muttered, her hand covering her mouth.

"The twins, I heard one has a white divine core and the other has a black one."

"White!?" her friend blurted loudly.

"No way, that's impossible!" The two girls approached them slowly but deliberately.

"Excuse me… is it true?" They looked at Albus.

"Do you actually have a white Divine core?" Albus nodded, his brows pulling at their ends. They giggled, though it sounded more like a screech.

"You know, this might be a little bold of me," one said, placing a silk-covered hand on her chest, her other hand playing with her hair.

"I'm still unbetrothed. What if we start to get to know each other? I believe your family would greatly benefit from an arrangement with mine, and who knows? Perhaps even marriage could be on the table."

"No, no, I'm a better choice," the other girl cut in.

"My family is gold-class. Hers is only silver-class."

"I'm not interested in any of you," Albus responded flatly, not even a second later.

"I believe marriage should be with a girl I love and find attractive. Neither of you meets those standards, but thank you for the offer." The girls gasped, eyes wide.

"I'm sorry—please, he didn't mean it," Anadis said, pushing his brother aside to move him out of the way.

"Yes, I did mean it," Albus insisted.

"It's wrong to lie to people." Anadis laughed awkwardly and apologetically, pushing his brother harder and faster down the hall.

"Look at his eyes," a couple of kids murmured as they took a gander at Anadis's eyes while he and Albus walked down the corridor.

"I heard he killed a Grull by biting its jugular off, then carved its intestines out with his own hands like an animal." Now come on, that's a little out there. I did try to strangle it, but that was it. He glanced at them, and they scurried away after gasping. He sighed. He hadn't even glared at them—he had simply looked in their direction—and that was the treatment he received. While the students treated Albus like a prize, their attitude toward Anadis felt more like he was an omen or a curiosity to be afraid of.

"I don't understand why they're treating you like you're a Grull now," Albus whispered.

"Your Blessing manifests through your eyes. A change was the expected result." Anadis patted his brother's back.

"It's okay. You can't expect people not to murmur and make up their own versions of things."

"Perhaps if you explain—""No, let's just forget about it and hurry to the next class. You don't want to be late for that one." Because of Albus's many fans trying to befriend him—or tangle him into an early marriage contract—they arrived late to class. They eased into the room as quietly as possible, hoping not to draw any attention, but the magister's voice cut through the silence.

"Kalonis, nice of both of you to join us," Magister Calista Venrie said. Yep. This was Noe's future mother-in-law and the strictest magister in the entire Learning Hall. Calista Venrie was tall and severe, with long red braids, glasses she kept adjusting up the bridge of her nose, and the same sun-kissed complexion as her daughter Esmel. Unlike Esmel, though, Calista was fully human. She didn't care about first-day pleasantries. She also didn't care that her daughter was engaged to Anadis's older brother.

She was absolutely going to make an example of them. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Unless he got ahead of her.

"I'm sorry, Magister. It won't happen again," Anadis said, letting his face fall into feigned embarrassment.

"Since you arrived late, that must mean you don't need this course because you already know the material," she said earnestly, completely ignoring the apology.

"So, I have a question. Why don't you tell me the names of the gods worshiped by the elves?" Anadis winced.

"Me?"

"No, this question is for Albus. I have a follow-up for you." Albus glanced at Anadis as if looking for a lifeline. But he couldn't help him, and to make matters worse, Anadis knew exactly what she was planning. That was a loaded question, one that assumed all elves were the same. Would he dare answer a question that wasn't even meant for him? If he did, it could easily backfire. Whatever. I can't let my brother drown.

"That's not a simple question, Magister," he cut in, careful to keep his tone neutral. Her eyebrows arched.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Well, it depends on which elves you mean." Then a boy with a flat nose muttered loudly, "Dummy, there's only one kind of elf. Are you confusing them with daemons or mimikins?" The magister immediately shushed the boy and then gestured for Anadis to keep going.

"We all know the elves of The Elven Court of Sindavar worship Demeter, Goddess of Nature." He paused briefly, looking at her, then added, "However, most people don't know about a second group called the Elves of Frosthalla. They've lived apart from Sindavar elves for over a thousand years, and not much is known about them, but they are vocal about the goddess they worship: Skadi, Goddess of Winter. She's one of the harshest and least forgiving of the gods, and they live by that."

Anadis exhaled sharply, only then realizing that he had been holding his breath. The magister stared at him, a small curl forming at the corner of her lips. She was impressed.

"Good. That was actually what I wanted to know from Albus. However," her gaze sharpened, "what I wanted from you was to tell me why the elves worship Goddess Skadi with such ferocity." His breath caught. He actually didn't know—he had never studied this before. He was about to concede defeat when Hel flashed into existence beside him and whispered, "Because she was the only one out of the Thirteen Gods who descended in their land before a Colossal Grull could completely wipe it out. This gave him pause.

Had she just helped him? Still, he didn't doubt her for a second—she was a goddess, after all, one who had been there fifteen hundred years ago. So he repeated her answer word for word. Magister Calista had no choice but to say, "You both may take your seats," her voice laced with surprise as her gaze lingered on him, reassessing.

"But don't be late again." Anadis sat back down, rubbing a finger under his nose, and let out a long sigh, releasing the built-up stress. As he did, he glanced sideways at Hel, who hovered near his shoulder with an unbothered expression, as if answering a question about events fifteen hundred years ago was no different from commenting on his posture.

"Thank you," he spoke through the mental bond that connected them.

"Can't believe you didn't know the answer to such an easy question," she replied in kind. I guess that's her way of saying you're welcome. From the corner of his eye, Anadis saw Hel's cheeks puff out in indignation. It made him want to poke them. He restrained himself, of course. She had been there… he thought. She actually was there when Goddess Skadi descended, when all of the gods descended.

The thought landed with an unexpected significance as he came to a realization he already knew but just understood: she knew all twelve of them personally. For the gods' sake, she is—or rather, was—one of them. He had been treating her like an annoying houseguest who resided inside his soul, but only now was it occurring to him that she might be the most dangerous person he'd ever met and would ever meet. Not only because of who she was, but because of what she knew.

After classes, Anadis and Albus left the Learning Hall campus, their courses finished for the day. There was still the Blessed Trial prep class held at the end of each session, but since they were already Blessens, there was no reason for them to attend. As they strolled down the cobbled path, Anadis spotted his sister Aelia walking ahead. Since she was a year older, they didn't share any courses, so he hadn't seen her the whole day.

Before he could call out to her, Anadis noticed the swarm of guys pestering Aelia, as if she were some queen bee and they were her little workers. Aelia had always been extremely beloved in the Learning Hall, one of, if not the most, popular girls. Yet her reserved nature tended to land her in uncomfortable situations, as evidenced by her scrunched face and the many times she'd shaken her head as the boys' persistent hovering grew more and more insistent.

Hurrying to her side, Anadis almost yelled, but no—he wouldn't be gratuitously aggressive. He'd rather be annoying. Stepping between Aelia and the swarm of boys, he spoke, "Gentlemen." His tone made it very clear he didn't mean the word at all.

"She's shaken her head at least three times now. At what point does that stop being a hint and start being an answer?"

"Ugh? And who are you supposed to be?" one of the boys sneered.

"Her white knight?" There were five of them, all glaring at him with veiled threats. They were dressed in fine, draped linen, probably gold-class students. Anadis knew he had to watch how he spoke to them.

"No, no, just a concerned brother," Anadis replied, raising both arms in a placating gesture.

"Brother?" the same guy said, brows furrowed in thought.

"Are you the guy with the Divine white core?" Anadis raised an eyebrow. Then Albus stepped in.

"That would be me. May I know what concerns you all have with my sister?"

"Everyone's talking about you!" the same guy shouted eagerly, all his anger seemingly vanished.

"The first kid with a white core in centuries!" All of them immediately abandoned Aelia and clustered toward Albus instead. Not expecting this sudden turn of events, Anadis stepped away from the fanboy swarm and asked his sister, "Are you okay?"

"I am, but they weren't bothering me," she said, giving a small bow with her hands clasped neatly before her.

"My thanks, regardless." Letting out a weary sigh and clicking his tongue, Anadis replied, "Aelia, we're siblings. You don't need to be so polite toward me." While his other sister, Nora, ignored most of Grandma's etiquette lessons, Aelia had engraved them into her very being. She was always extremely polite, soft-spoken, and reserved—so much so that even her presence felt like an apology for existing too brightly.

"Either way, let's walk home," Anadis said. He glanced at the swarm of boys still clinging to Albus like kids seeing a new toy for the first time.

"Well… we'll have to wait for Albus, I guess."

"Actually," Aelia said, "I was heading—" A chorus of "No way!" and "Do it again!" erupted from the boys as they nudged each other with their shoulders after Albus had given them a lightning show of his Blessing. After a couple of minutes, the last of the fanboys finally drifted away, and Albus rejoined them, looking like he had barely survived an ordeal.

"So, shall we head home?" Anadis asked.

"Oh." Aelia's eyes shifted sideways.

"I just remembered. I have somewhere to be." Anadis turned to look at her.

"Somewhere?" That was unexpected. She was the kind of girl who never, and he meant never, had plans unless Nora dragged her along.

"Yes." She clasped her hands neatly.

"With some friends."

"Friends," he repeated, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Yes, Anadis, with friends," she said. Her tone remained perfectly composed, which was exactly the problem. Aelia was always formal, but right now, she was specifically perfectly composed, the way someone sounded when they were trying very hard to be.

"Which friends?"

"You don't know them," she retorted.

"I think I know most people in the Learning Hall."

"You don't know these ones." She gave a small, precise bow.

"I'll see you both at home." Then she turned and walked away at a pace that was technically not rushing, but definitely not lingering either. Anadis stared as she vanished around a corner, heading into town.

"That was suspicious."

"She said she has friends," Albus reassured.

"Yeah, I know, but she said it like someone who's lying about having friends."

"Aelia doesn't lie."

"Everyone lies, Albus," he said, facepalming. Albus considered this with genuine seriousness.

"I don't." Anadis considered for a moment. Perhaps Albus hadn't realized it yet, but he hadn't told anyone what really went down during the trial, even after their parents asked for details. In Anadis's book, covering things up counted as lying.

"Anyway—" he started.

"We're not going home yet," Hel cut in, flashing into existence beside him, her wings fluttering.

"We're going to the Shard Market. Remember?" Her voice rang out with that particular scolding tone, like she was about to lecture him for forgetting. Right. He turned to Albus.

"Actually, I have somewhere to be as well." Albus just looked at him.

"Don't give me that look."

"I didn't give you a look," his twin said with a shrug.

"You were about to." Albus said nothing.

"Anyway," Anadis said.

"I'll see you at home." He left before Albus could respond with something devastatingly reasonable.