As my eyes fluttered open, a faint light seeped in. I jerked upright, looking around. Nothing.
The room was normal, empty even.
I got out of bed and walked to the door. Outside was a hallway. Somehow, I had gotten back into the academy.
Confused as I was, I heard the bell ringing, signaling the start of class. The first lesson for everyone was with Professor Eckhart, who was set to lecture about the demons and angels that usurpers preach. But now, I would have to miss it.
I lay back on my bed, tired and still sleepy, yet it was not the time to rest. I had already lost one day. Nine more remained before I would be kicked out of the academy.
And last night… I could not remember how I had returned. I had been strangled, and then I saw a hand, yet I could not reach it. What happened last night?
Scratching my head, I thought, should I go to the cemetery now? In the morning, surely the miasma would be less powerful. It was common knowledge that death was stronger in darkness.
For now, though, I decided to stay away from the cemetery. It was too dangerous. Who knew this time if I would be saved?
Though I was grateful to the one who saved me, I remained far more wary of his sudden appearance and his true intentions.
For an hour, I was free, so I took the opportunity to move toward the halls reserved for the upper ranks. What I saw left me in awe.
The rooms were far more spacious than the lower practical chambers, lined with dark artifacts that offered both safety and luxury. It was clear that the academy intended to cultivate its upper ranks with greater care. It was a pity that most of those students were dark mages and necromancers. Only four stood apart. Three of them I already knew, but the fourth was a mysterious man appointed personally by the headmaster. Nothing was known about him except for one thing; he was not of noble blood.
He was of common birth, and no doubt faced whispers of disdain, though such troubles were none of my concern.
I exhaled, a touch of envy within me, though I could not deny that it seemed fitting.
Returning to my dormitory, I rested briefly before making my way back to class. Today was to be a special lecture on the classification of summons. I had already grasped the fundamentals, but I suspected the professors of this academy possessed knowledge that went far beyond simple theory.
On the way, I collided with a man of gaunt frame. His eyes were a deep and unnatural violet, shimmering like an abyssal lake that threatened to draw me in. His body exuded miasma in such abundance that I was struck dumb, unable even to stammer an apology. The cemetery itself was nothing compared to the noxious haze that poured from him simply by standing there.
He coughed, snapping me back to reality.
"My apologies," I said, my voice faltering. "It has been… a difficult day."
His gaze swept over me, cold and measuring. "Yes, I know. You nearly let the specter take you. Had I not intervened, you would have been lost. Tell me, are you feeling better now?"
I stammered as I replied, "Ye… yes… yeah, I'm fine. So it was you then."
"What happened? Can you help me recall? I've lost quite a bit of memory from last night's encounter."
He did not seem surprised. If anything, he appeared calm and collected, as though he had already guessed the state I was in.
"It's alright. I'll tell you," he said. "You were attempting to cultivate miasma, I believe. During that time, a specter was roaming, searching for prey. When it found you, it tried to possess you. You lost control, and the miasma around you turned wild, tightening around your body like a strangling coil.
"I did not expect to see what followed. The miasma around you became… sentient. It looked as if you were controlling it, but that was not the case. It was literally trying to take your life—unless, of course, you were attempting to end it yourself."
He paused, waiting for some kind of reply. When I gave none, he spoke again.
"I have already exorcised the specter. You are safe. But after that miasma outbreak, you should visit the infirmary. If any trace still lingers, they will know how to ease it."
His words left me stunned. I bowed slightly and managed to thank him. He only lifted a hand in a casual wave, offered a brief farewell, and walked away as if nothing had happened.
For a long moment I stood there, my thoughts tangled. I cursed myself for being so careless. How could I think the cemetery was without danger, when this world was steeped in creatures I would never have faced in the one I came from?
Still, I was thankful. Without him, I might not have survived. Yet in my daze I had forgotten the simplest of things—his name, his class, anything that might tell me who he really was. Perhaps fate would see us meet again.
I promised myself I would never attempt something so reckless again. The memory of nearly being strangled by my own miasma still lingered, but I pushed it down as I made my way toward the classroom. The lecture had already begun, and I was late. My body felt heavy, a dull tiredness clinging to my limbs, but aside from that there were no lasting effects. The infirmary could wait.
Missing one class had already put me in a poor light among both students and professors. To skip another would only darken the shadow cast over me. Better, I thought, to endure my weariness and attend the next lesson with all the seriousness I could muster.
Knowledge was the only shield I had left. If I could learn something that gave me an advantage, something that allowed me to avoid another disaster like the one in the cemetery, perhaps I could prevent my looming expulsion. Nine days remained. Nine days before the academy would cast me out if I failed to prove myself.
The weight of that thought pressed heavily upon me as I opened the door to the classroom, determined not to waste another chance.