Page 28 of Trivium

Loveleena didn’t care if she annoyed the woman. She wasn’t about to be bullied into submission. You had to have a strong back bone. Her father taught her that. Nobles didn’t earn respect by being a pushover. “You must all be graduate leads,” she reasoned since they were all in the mess hall. Graduate Defenders didn’t typically eat there unless they were involved in student training in some way. “It’s a lot to take on, guiding first-years in addition to your regular Defender duties, I’m sure. What made you all want to become Defenders in the first place?” She had always been a yapper, so when the four Defenders stared at her deadpan, she kept talking. Despite her many years of etiquette training, she had a tendency to over share. “Personally”—she shoved a spoonful of stew into her mouth, almost choking on the taste as she did—“My best friend Park inspired me. Not that he was a Defender, or anything,” Loveleena clarified, her mouth full.

The man across from Serena frowned. “Wasn’t he that first-year who⁠—”

“Shut up, Declan,” Serena ordered, clearing her throat. “Sorry, but we need to head out for field work.” Her friends took her cue and they all stood up to leave. “Have a safe first day.”

“Wait!” Loveleena called, but it was too late; the four of them were already disappearing out the entrance. It took her a moment to process what had just happened, but when she finally put the pieces together, hope bloomed in her chest. Serena and her friends knew Park. He had been here.

He had disappeared… to attend the Academy?

But if that was true, where was he now?

Loveleena left the mess hall without finishing her disgusting breakfast and went straight to Trivium. Her stomach ached from hunger, but she didn’t care. These people knew something about Park, and she was going to find out what it was.

19

ZEINA

Zeina wasn’t one to take anything for granted. She was an opportunist. And the Academy was an opportunity that, normally, she would never have access to. One that also conveniently had an endless supply of food for students.

Her first few days at the Academy was an endless feast. She was certain she ate more than she had in her entire life. After the first few meals, she threw up, her stomach unable to handle the volume. She learned quickly that smaller meals more often were better for digestion, and after that, her stomach adjusted to her eating, simply bloating in protest.

Now, a week later, she had become accustomed to regular meals, and it felt incredible.

She should leave; she wasn’t supposed to be here. But Zeina had lived her whole life as a nobody, and the Academy was no different. She quickly discovered where everything was, learned the schedule, and found hiding spots and escape routes all over the main castle and the village.

She learned that the Academy was divided into three parts: the main castle and its associated buildings, including the dorms, Moonlight Apothecary, Skyward Amphitheater, Aurorian Battlegrounds, and Greenhouse; a patch of trees they called the Academy forest, which was large, rarely used by Defenders or students except for growing fruit trees and herbs for potions, and entirely contained on this side of the Great Wall; and Defender Village.

From what Zeina could gather, there was a cluster of apartments close to the wall that housed Defenders, although some seemed to reside in apartments above the shops as well. As Jarrah grew, so did the Academy, and the physical needs of the students along with it. Defender Village featured an eatery, bars, a bakery, a multi-building Apothecary that was separate from the Academy’s, training facilities, a metalsmith to forge weapons, recovery centers, and other shops. It wasn’t massive, but it had character, and it provided the Defenders with everything they needed to be completely self-sufficient. At the mouth of Old Jarrah Town sat the main castle. Its grandeur was the centerpiece and the guardian, shielding the campus from the rest of Jarrah.

Defender Village was her favorite. Stone walls were crumbled at every corner, its trees overgrown, its bramble unruly—and still, flowers bloomed. Pathways cradled between buildings, which twisted and turned, leading to unexpected places. It was like a time capsule of the past, a window into what Jarrah was like before the wall.

As she stepped out to explore during the first week, the energy in the Village was palpable. Students seemed frantic, lost along winding streets, holding up their school map in confusion. She stuck to side streets and back alleys to avoid most of the traffic cramped between tight buildings. It was an odd sight, the Village; it was similar to Jarrah in feel but worn down, ancient looking, and swarming with Defenders. Still, the entire campus had a vibrancy about it that Zeina fed off of. It was different… While Jarrah felt like a blend of stories told by centuries of Jarrians, Defender Village felt like it held secrets—like it had been abandoned and rediscovered, much of its original wisdom lost. Zeina loved it.

She learned quickly that although she needed to be careful, she didn’t need to be invisible. With her uniform, she could easily blend into the crowd. There were enough students that she could use the bathing chambers and grab food from the mess hall without anyone paying much attention to her. First years thought she was a second year, second years thought she was a first year. It was easier than she thought it would be.

Tucked away in the food cellar, she lay on a bag of rice. This was one of three safe spaces in her rotation where she slept comfortably without being found. She was small. It was easy for her to hide behind burlap sacks. But a week in, she was already longing for more than a warm meal and a place to sleep. She watched enviously as students drifted to and from lectures every day, chatting excitedly about what they were learning. She became enthralled with their conversations about plants, creatures, and magic. It beckoned her closer, and at night when she went to sleep away from the others, she couldn’t wait for the next day to start so she could witness more.

Zeina hadn’t been in school since she was young, and her lust for knowledge was overpowering. It pulled at her, and she gave in easily, settling into the tiny closet of the Skyward Amphitheatre the following morning to watch a lecture. She arrived before the professor and students, and while she waited for the lecture to start, she counted all the ways she could escape if she were discovered.

The Skyward Amphitheatre was a large circular room with step seating that wound around its rim, all leading down into its center. Handwoven cushions were strewn about each step, peppered with golden sun. Its open ceiling was partially protected by a checker of wooden beams twisted with vines, blooming fuchsia flowers, and saffron. As students filled the theatre, Zeina peered out through the door, studying each of them—at least the ones she could see through the crack—and her eyes snagged on a girl that looked oddly familiar.

Too familiar. In fact, she felt as though she were looking in a mirror at a more polished version of herself. She couldn’t pull her eyes away.

“We’re about to go into your second week of Strategy, so let’s get into some real world scenarios.” Professor Ada Kaplana led the lecture with the maturity of a woman who had lived a hundred lives. She had an uncanny ability to see right through people, and even from the closet, Zeina felt exposed by her demeanor.

“You’re all well aware that creatures are gifted with a physical, mental, or spiritual ability, yes?” They all nodded. “Every Defender should know how to navigate basic creature strategy, but for those of you who would like to specialize in Cleverness, critical decision-making is especially important, because your squad relies on you to make the right call. They defer to your direction. Yes, even the Slayers.”

The whole room was silent. “Imagine you’ve graduated, you’ve been placed with a squad of Defenders who you become very close with, who you respect and admire for their intelligence and skill. The Clevers have designed a strategy for all squads that must be followed. You and your squad find yourself in an unfortunate situation with a creature where you are trapped with no escape. The creature is one that hasn’t been seen for decades, so your team is going into battle blind, as the creature may have evolved since initial magic and skill documentation. One of your squad members argues that time is running out and you need to physically fight. But it goes against your directive set by the Clevers, who have asked you to use specific Alchemy tactics only in order to keep the outer body of the creature intact. What do you do?”

Zeina watched as half the students raised their hands.

“Yes,” Kaplana said, pointing to a man in the middle row.

“You tell them to follow the strategy set in place—not to deviate.”

The professor shrugged. “What if you believe their approach is better? What if you think it’s better to fight, based on the limited knowledge you have, than to rely on Alchemy that is difficult to administer, given the situation. What if it saves innocent lives? What if it saves your squad?”

“Disregarding the directive could result in a loss of life. Maybe even worse so. If the Alchemist is confident in their potion, which they should be, stick to the plan.”