After Professor Mailon's long and intense lecture on the history of the academy and the bloodlines of power, the three of them—Kael, Mousan, and Elmyra—walked in silence toward the cafeteria. It was nearing six in the evening, and the sun had begun to dip low, casting its last orange rays over the old academy buildings.
Mousan had taken the initiative and brought Kael his new academy uniform, so Kael didn't have to do anything except follow along, swallowed by the heavy silence that trailed them. Elmyra hadn't spoken a single word since they'd met that morning. She simply walked behind them, quiet as a shadow—only noticed when it vanishes.
When they returned to the dormitory building… but the surprise came when Elmyra followed them inside.
Kael raised an eyebrow, watching her walk in silently, her small bag swaying, her eyes avoiding theirs.
Does she live in the same building? he wondered. But as they reached the room, two things became clear: either she truly lived in the same building, or—for some reason—she intended to stay the night here. And he wasn't sure which was true.
He looked at her for a moment with a flicker of sympathy.
'She told the teacher that she spent the night in the training yard… maybe she has problems. Best not to embarrass her.'
As for Mousan, he was clearly experiencing a kind of confusion he wasn't used to. He looked extremely tense, like he had no idea how to behave with a girl in the room.
'Maybe he's never spoken to one before… and even I, raised in the lower layer without ever seeing a girl up close, feel more confident than him. Kael smirked inwardly, watching his friend.'
They all stepped into the small room.
Kael looked at Mousan, trying to break the awkward silence.
"Mousan, if you want, you can go first to the bathroom. Uh… Elmyra, would you like to take a shower?"
Both Mousan and Elmyra froze in place. Elmyra lowered her head, then turned quickly and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
Kael stood still.
"Did… did I say something wrong?"
Mousan sighed deeply and gently placed a hand on Kael's shoulder, his eyes full of an unexpected wisdom.
"My friend… I think you just called her dirty."
Kael blinked. "But… she's been training all day. Of course she needs a shower!"
Mousan shook his head in utter defeat.
"No, dear Kael. In this world, the truth doesn't matter. You have to lie. Lying is the secret to dealing with women."
Kael raised an eyebrow. Maybe I can search the warden's memories…
And he did.
But all he found were memories of prostitutes… and slaps from angry women.
'He really was a womanizer… but completely useless here.'
Kael looked back at Mousan.
"So… what was I supposed to say?"
Mousan raised his hand confidently, then dropped it with a sigh.
"Honestly, I have no idea… and that's the point. Don't say anything. Unless absolutely necessary."
They stood in silence, staring at the door. Then, in perfect unison, they said:
"Women… really are complicated."
****
After showering and changing, Kael and Mousan sat and talked at ease. Mousan spoke about some of his health problems, while Kael explained certain aspects of life in the lower layer—things that fascinated and often shocked Mousan.
Then Mousan pulled a small wooden chessboard from his bag.
"Do you know this game?"
Kael shook his head.
"No, but… I think I get the idea." He dove into the warden's memories and found the rules of the game.
They began to play, but Mousan kept defeating him. After every loss, Kael would ask for another round.
When night fell, Mousan climbed to the upper bunk, exhausted, while Kael sat cross-legged on the rug, fiddling with the king piece, turning it between his fingers, deep in thought.
"Finally… time alone."
He relaxed a little, then spoke inwardly:
"Shadowblood, I want you to focus on everything I'm about to think. If you have any answers, give them to me."
The usual voice came, slightly mocking:
"You little imp, do you think my time belongs to you?"
Kael sighed.
"You really come from an evil god. Just don't interrupt me, please."
No reply came—and that surprised him a little.
He slipped into deep concentration.
"There are urgent questions. The most important one: What is the Black Blood? What's its nature? What happens to its chosen?"
"But all these questions revolve around a single core… the first question. If I can find its answer, maybe I can guess the rest. The issue with the last question is—I don't think I'm its chosen. After all, I took it by force."
"I remember how the Black Blood consumed people in the lower layer, searching for its chosen. So maybe there's a connection between it and the Shadowblood. After all, the Shadowblood once said my true ability is the 'theft of self.' That seems somewhat related to the Black Blood. Is the Black Blood a medium? Or something entirely different?"
He set down the king and picked up the knight.
"Then there's the symbol… the mark that appeared on my left chest. It showed up the first time I absorbed a bloodline, then again when Tharamis forced his energy into me. After that… I saw things, heard voices… I almost went insane."
"Maybe that was the vision Kandrow talked about."
"And that shadow… the one who helped me. Who was he? Could it be the god? He seemed… kind. Like he knew me."
He smacked his forehead.
"What a fool I am. Kindness is the most dangerous thing an unknown entity can show. I need to be more cautious from now on."
Then he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.
"And then there's the tremors… the gates… and the fact that progress past the fourth phase requires entering a gate. Where did those laws come from?"
"The gods… what do we really know about them? The former head of the Kaldras family said the bloodlines were given by humans, not gods. So… did the gods give those powers to those humans? But then… why didn't they give them to everyone if that was their goal?"
"And when I absorbed the patriarch's bloodline, I didn't see any memories. Probably because he wasn't entirely human."
"My family… the reason I was born in prison… all of that will have to wait."
He focused harder, trying to recall everything that had happened.
"Oh right… there's also that strange world. Every time I absorb a bloodline, I find myself in that world, with some strangers. Could they be the first ones to have taken the bloodline?"
He sat up again, mind fully alert.
"So, the priorities now: understand the nature of the Black Blood, then uncover the truth behind the god—or entity—behind the Shadowblood. Everything else can wait."
Then he thought inwardly:
"Shadowblood, do you have anything to add?"
But no answer came.
******
In a dark room on the first floor, Elmyra was asleep alone. Her room, like the others, was still—but its stillness was heavier than silence.
Suddenly, she began to toss and turn, sweating heavily. Her body trembled as she clutched the blanket tightly.
She whispered, as if pleading with someone:
"No… please… don't do it…"
Then she screamed, reaching out as if trying to grab something:
"Nooooo!!!"
She awoke from her nightmare, gasping. Her face was drenched in sweat, and her heartbeat thundered in her chest.
But even that wasn't enough… She collapsed inward, hugging her knees, silently crying in the dark. Her heart was full of fear.
******
Who…?
Kael slowly opened the door.
It was Elmyra.
Standing with her blanket, dressed in a simple white silk gown, her black hair cascading over her shoulders. She looked… like she'd stepped out of a dream.
Kael froze.
An angel?
She spoke in a soft, hesitant voice:
"Sorry for waking you… can I come in?"
Kael snapped out of his daze and smiled at her.
"Of course. Come in."
Elmyra stepped inside quietly. Kael gestured to the bed.
"Sit here."
While she sat down, he quickly scooped up the chessboard and some of Mousan's clothes strewn on the floor, throwing them into the bathroom in a desperate attempt to tidy up.
He sat on the rug, unsure what to say.
'Come on, Kael… say something, you idiot.'
He opened his mouth—then remembered Mousan's advice.
'Damn you, Mousan… you've infected me.'
He looked at her for a moment, then sighed and said:
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to hurt your feelings earlier."
She looked at him for a moment, then lowered her head and whispered:
"You didn't hurt me… I just went back to shower in my own room."
Mousan… I'm going to kill you, you bastard.
Kael smiled awkwardly, rubbing his hair.
"Alright… you can sleep in my bed. I'll sleep here. Make yourself comfortable."
He grabbed his blanket and lay down on the rug, while Elmyra quietly slipped into the bed.
And in the darkness of the room, for just a moment—she felt safe.