“Three days… that’s ridiculous.”

  Anemone found her gaze stuck in the upper canopy. The sway of the leaves almost put her in a trance. The slight shine of the sun through the gloom said it was still early. As she walked, her body bounced around, as if it were being shoved left and right with every step. Her vision dropped; the sight of other aos-si snapped her focus back. Somehow, she had already left the grove that hid the tree with the Gaian Springs. In fact, she was already near the bustling part of the First District. Soon, the sun had receded, and the sky wore its usual heavy gray gloom.

  Everything that happened jumbled her mind and made her stomach churn. The sensation in her right arm was slowly returning with every flex. Anemone took deep breaths and focused on channeling Arcane-Od. Then, she found a nearby tree to lean on once again. Anemone ran her hands through her hair and sighed.

  “The trials are finally here… all I can do is drag my feet. Pathetic.”

  All her life, Anemone had waited for this day. Taking the Accolade Trials was supposed to be the first time for her to prove herself to everyone, especially Titania. She was supposed to trek into the Wilds and take her life at the helm. After completing a task, she would become an official Arbor Magna soldier. Hopefully, she would join the Anther Scouts; her ticket outside these walls! Yet now she struggled to stand. The quivering in her stomach grew stronger, and her eyes stayed focused on the ground. Even with her constant focus on channeling Arcane-Od, walking proved difficult. And wading through the crowd of aos-si did not help. Every touch practically made her skin crawl.

  “I just need to catch my breath. That’s all. I’ll be fine.” She spoke.

  As she pressed her face into her hands, the sound of shuffling feet caught her attention. When she peeked through her fingers, there was an older sh’fae yanking at the arms of someone else. The only reason Anemone could tell she was older was from the streaks of gray in her bark-like hair. From the look on the other one’s face, she could not have been much older than Anemone herself. They had a striking resemblance from the side. Both had braids swoop down their pale white shoulders. The only difference from afar was the younger one’s dark brown, bark-like hair lacking any gray. Both of them removed their masks. It was like a standoff between mages. Their emerald eyes glared at each other with fire. Their faces flushed red as their flared nostrils steamed. Without flinching, the one with dark brown, bark-like hair flung her arm back. The force of her hand slammed the door of the tree shop. A slam loud enough to almost silence the clamoring crowd. Words were vomited at each other with no concern about who might be an onlooker.

  “I don’t want to marry anyone! You never did!” the younger one yelled.

  “And I made a mistake! I won’t let you do the same!” the older one howled.

  “WHAT ABOUT MY FEELINGS!?” she argued back.

  Anemone burst into laughter while trying to cover her face again. The feeling of her eyes swelling made her shake her head. Instantly, her mother’s words played into her mind, and she pressed her fingertips into the side of her forehead. An ache in her heart throbbed, and she looked into the sky again, pleadingly.

  “What am I even thinking!? Lauma, this is so pointless. I’m supposed to be married off to Clausa! Not living some adventure….”

  She slid down the wall, but her knees caught her. The urge to shake her fist at the sky viciously arose. They, however, were too heavy for that. Hearing Florentina confirm changes to the lore of “The Fall” left a bitter taste in her mouth. Her chest simmered at the thought that Titania was a fraud, yet so many worshipped the ground she walked on. Here Anemone was, forced to listen to Titania’s words. She could say nothing at all. Even if I wanted to, Titania is never around! The more she thought about it, the more reasonable it sounded.

  “The First Fall wasn’t the only part of history we changed. Spriggan said we even erased the evidence of Vestri being blasted off the map by Albion,” she mumbled.

  There was no evidence of what happened to its citizens or the Kingdom; only ruins remained. But Anemone knew Albion had done it; she just did not know why. Anemone took the Lost Historia out again, gently stroking its cover. Everyone had left her in the dark, and it gnawed at her. The tightness in her chest made her body slump even more, as if she were about to melt into the tree behind her. If this book had more secrets, it would be something everyone should know. Yet the more Anemone wondered if she was right.

  “How could someone not realize that such a book was in the library? If there are things we shouldn’t know…why write it?” She pondered.

  Judging from what Florentina said to Anemone, the Lost Historia was a remarkable find. Somehow, a stranger, who had never stepped inside the Kingdom, found it absurd. This book was in her hands now, and its secrets were only words away. But they were words she could not understand yet on her own. Opening the book, she turned to a random page, trying to decipher what little she could from memory. Only two words she knew stuck out to her: burn and false. She slammed the book closed.

  “This is ridiculous! I can’t just sit around staring at a book!”

  Anemone jumped to her feet. Instantly, something in the distance caught her eye. A strange-looking mask with deep-set eyes accented by metal and a bent, crooked nose. Gray, billowy hair lined the top of the mask and flowed in the wind. Aos-si walked through and around the stranger, as if he were intangible. The world became silent. Despite the crowd of wandering aos-si, not even the wind made a sound.

  “I’ve seen that mask before… it was before—”

  Anemone hinged over, covering her mouth. Chills ran across her body; she wanted to gag. There was a pain in her abdomen that swelled with her heart rate. Her mind grew foggy, recalling the alleyway she had entered. There was someone else, someone covered in shadow. She had seen the cadet with a star under his eye and the tengu beaked mask, but there was another. With that thought in mind, words filled her ears.

  The amorphous shadows of black night will claim your head. Trust your gut…

  It was speaking into her mind. Her eyes locked with that mask, and Anemone knew it was looking at her. Then she yelled at the strange mask wearer.

  “Who are you?!”

  The honeyed buzz will lead you to the domed ruins. Into a hall and downstairs, wait until the thunder rumbles pass.

  Anemone commanded again.

  “What are you saying?! What does that gibberish mean!?”

  Shatter the illusion of screeching swarmers. Slay the satyr. In blood plummeting into the river, you will find your answer.

  Her vision blurred as her head ached. The sight flashed on and off repeatedly. With one last blink, the mask disappeared. The world regained sound and spun, disorienting Anemone even more. She gripped her ears, stumbling forward. Her balance had faded. Anemone’s head swiveled left and right, frantically scanning every face around her. But it was nowhere in sight.

  “What the muspel is this!?”

  Something gripped her shoulder. It did not matter how soft that touch was. In fact, that gentle tap made her skin crawl even more. Anemone spun around, jumping backwards with her fist raised.

  “Where’s da fire?! You don’t hear me hollerin’ to ya?”

  Anemone turned to that voice, and even with her mask on, she could tell it was Aronia. The jubilant surprise in her voice struck Anemone’s ear, and her heart eased in tightness. Anemone focused on Aronia, who stood before her better than before. It took less than a second; she was in Aronia’s arms. Her body, mind, and heart melted.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “Nin!” Aronia blushed. “We’re in public! Not that I mind, though,” said Aronia.

  As weak and heavy as her arms were, she had the strength to raise them and gasp Aronia into her. Anemone inhaled her scent; its aroma filled her with warmth as she nuzzled Aronia. It was like Spriggan, who often wore an aroma of tobacco, spice, and pepper. But Aronia had a hint of floral sweetness that was almost fruity.

  “NIA!!! You’re okay!!! But you smell like an old man….”

  “You can blame the auldjin for that! Spriggan made this blend for me. I think I smell handsome,” Aronia giggled. “But that doesn’t matter! Are you okay? Mum said you were in pretty awful shape.”

  “I should ask you that! I know it’s been three days, but—”

  “Don’t wurry I’m fine. You made it just in time. The trials are about to begin.”

  “I’m already near the Warp Gates?” Anemone mumbled.

  When Anemone looked at the sky again, the angle of the light had already shifted. She faced northward following the light from above.

  “It’s been an hour. Impossible…”

  Anemone had not realized how much time had passed. Nor did she realize how close she had gotten to the main square. Expedition gear covered everyone around her from head to toe. They all had thick boots and overcoats or cloaks to shield them from the soon-to-be frost they were bound to experience in the Wilds. There was an aos-si of almost every kind; elves, fae, ellylldan, nymphs, and goblins. There were even a few dwarves mixed in with the melting pot of green uniforms and colored epaulettes. Purple epaulets from Albion, green from Tir-noNog, red from Finfinne, blue from Tir-foThuinn, and yellow from the Arid Sea. All the Comrade-at-Arms had already gathered for the Accolade Trials.

  The Sight activated, forcing her to wince. As Anemone looked downward, strange streams of light lit a path from Aronia’s pocket to a table in the distance. The faint path of energy split into three other streams. Each into the pocket of another grid-like silhouette. All with no wings. She knew two of them were probably elves. And after seeing one of them towering over both, she knew one of them was a dwarf. After Anemone blinked, her normal vision returned, and she saw it was the rest of her team sitting at the table. Both Rowan and Timber had their masks off as if they couldn’t care less about the rules. Only Rubus had something covering his face. That veil that always blocked his eyes.

  Aronia reached into her pocket and raised her hand, signaling Anemone to open her hands. Anemone stretched her palm open, and from its chipped and sharp texture, she could tell it was a crystal fragment in her hand. The glowing purple stream aura from the rock made her realize it was an Arcane lumenopal shard.

  “I kept it on me just in case,” Aronia stated. “I figured you might have forgotten about it.”

  Looking back toward the table, and then down at her stone, Anemone shook her head. It was the lumenopal shard from the opening ceremony before the Accolade Trials. The day it had originally got canceled.

  “Just like the last time… If this doesn’t prove I can see Od with this, I don’t know what will,” thought Anemone.

  While she held the stone, a pulse of energy ran across her palm, pulling her forward. The stone almost tugged like a magnet trying to reconnect to her team’s lumenopal shards. Aronia lifted Anemone’s mask to stare into her eyes. The moment their eyes met, she looked away toward the ground. That second made her heart throb and her knees weak. As she fumbled, her gaze followed back to the table with Rubus, Rowan, and Timber were still talking to each other.

  “I can’t let them see me as weak… Nia, sure—but them?”

  Anemone slapped her face to bring life into it. After hitting her cheeks, Anemone fixed her posture and took a deep breath, hoping to ignore her fatigue. Then she locked eyes with Aronia and forced a smile.

  “Well, you look like you could be worse,” Aronia shrugged.

  “Honestly, I wish it were easier,” Anemone shrank.

  “Nin, I don’t think—”

  Anemone raised her hand to interrupt Aronia.

  “No. Absolutely not!”

  Aronia looked sternly at Anemone for a moment and just shook her head. Anemone pulled her head back and pushed her shoulders forward. Her hands balled into fists and then straightened out with a weak breath.

  “I have to do this… please,” Anemone pleaded.

  Aronia shook her head with a sigh and took her mask off, pleading with her eyes. Anemone nodded but kept her face firm as they reflected in each other’s eyes. Within a few seconds, Aronia let out a huff of air and rolled her eyes. A chipper tone popped out of her while pulling Anemone in.

  “Maybe you should go take care of those lil grubs to warm yer heart instead?” Aronia squeezed.

  Anemone giggled. “Insectas are your thing… plants are mine. And don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”

  “Maybe, when yoo disappear for a few days, warn me.”

  Aronia let go and mockingly smiled. Without a beat, Anemone met Aronia’s smile with batting eyes.

  “But where’s the fun in telling you everything?”

  Seconds later, footsteps caught Anemone’s attention. Her gaze landed over her right shoulder. Rowan haughtily strolled up with his arms behind his head. His messy forest green hair almost covered his eyes as much as Rubus’ veil. The gambeson he wore was clean and green, like everyone else’s. However, the way he wore it was messy. From its oversize fit to the loose grip of his belt and pants. Rowan had a naturally lax nature. As he approached Anemone, a big smile beamed on his face. He raised his brow at Timber towering over him and whispered to Timber.

  “I guess we see who eats whom in this relationship.”

  Timber strolled up next to Rowan and slapped him on the back of his head. With how large Timber was, his hands practically covered all of Rowan’s head. Much like Rubus, Timber wore his uniform to form. His stature was as broad as she remembered; built as tough and as large as a Minotaur. Timber’s hair, however, was in far better shape than Rowan’s. His hair had a tapered fade that rose into a comb-over pompadour.

  “Grow up, Rowan,” said Timber.

  Anemone and Aronia leaned onto their hips and nodded, but Aronia laughed. She looked back at Aronia and grimaced at her response. Instead, Anemone simply shrugged her shoulders. Hearing a chuckle come from Aronia as she playfully nudged Rowan made her chin point forward. Before she said something in an extra voice, adding to the two laughing. The last one to regroup was Rubus, with a slight slouch in his posture. As he approached, he tied back his loosely curled hair into a low ponytail. Anemone crossed her arms as she heard Rowan make his early morning jabs at Rubus. Though he seemed somewhat tolerant of Rowan’s playful behavior, Rubus yawned. His voice was drier than his usual tone. He even looked as if he were unprepared for the day.

  “You good, Wingless? You look pretty dead.”

  “Says the one walking like the living dead,” Rowan turned around. “Speed up, will ya?!”

  “You don’t look too hot yourself, is what I would have said… But I won’t.”

  Her mouth opened to utter those words, but quickly snapped shut. Instead, Anemone averted her gaze with an intense scowl. She looked past her team, seeing only the sea of uniforms and masks. The crowd of Comrade-at-Arms pouring into the main area drew her in. As everyone gravitated inward, the group exchanged glances. Rubus inclined his head towards the ocean of cadets. Rowan and Timber followed in stride, along with Aronia. When Aronia stepped forward, Anemone turned her body. The tips of her fingers stretched towards Aronia’s hand, but they merely grazed the air between them. A fissure struck Anemone’s heart, momentarily cementing her feet to the earth. Her palms moistened. Everyone stepped forward, but she stood utterly still. The sound of their footsteps vibrated in her ears, zooming in and out.

  “I still have to try…” Anemone whimpered.

  The shoulder of a stranger from behind her bumped into her, almost knocking her over. As Anemone tripped over her feet, she caught herself. Her right hand fell to her left and held it with tender strokes. To keep pace with the group, Anemone jostled towards her teammates. In only a matter of minutes, the crowd was almost canned like fish. Getting through them was like forcing oneself between rocks in a cave. When she caught up to her team, they all wore hyper-focused looks as they conversed.

  “Usually, they send groups upon arrival to allow time to get ahead, right?” Rubus questioned. “Now it looks like they’re having us ship out at similar times.”

  “So, something seems off to you as well?” Timber added.

  “Late start and all, it’s probably just circumstances, love. Like Airelle said beforehand,” Aronia responded.

  Rowan spoke as he stretched.

  “Yeah, that Gallu incident probably has ’em on high alert.”

  “Yet we still have this stupid exam,” Rubus scowled.

  Anemone didn’t know why they changed how they handled groups teleporting out. Still, she acknowledged it was strange. Something inside her said the proctor’s preference wasn’t the only reason. Anemone scanned every team as they passed by when they stepped to the Warp Gate. She had not really remembered what the competition looked like. There were a few recognizable faces from her time around the academy. But none worth naming. Or at least she thought so. Until she saw a miserable, light green side ponytail far off in the distance. The very sight made her gag; Acaulis. And from the corner of his eye, their sight met. With a haughty smile, he turned away, flinging his hair. He did not even turn his head to acknowledge her properly. Steam erupted from Anemone’s ears as he walked off with his team full of Albionian purple epaulets.

  “How lucky is he to share a team with everyone in his kingdom?” Anemone hissed.

  “Yeah, unlike the other teams,” said Rowan. “It’s no wonder everyone is especially tense.”

  “Even I can’t believe this is done with mixed Kingdom teams,” nodded Timber.

  “It’s as if everyone remembered we only pretend to be friendly after generations of cutthroat behavior,” Rubus snarked.

  There were gaps all over the crowd in every team. In teams of five, you could see invisible lines drawn between folks. Most groups had different kingdom representatives on each team. Some two to three, others four to one, and all had glares. What felt like roots pickling in a jar was now a hostile pot simmering in brine. Anemone’s fingers fidgeted, and she clenched them tight. Soon, sweat dripped down her palms.

  “Seriously, you could cut a pie slice of air with how thick the tension is,” Rowan whistled.

  Anemone snapped, “Could you all try not to be soaked leaves?”

  Rubus side-eyed her.

  “Wasn’t it you who brought it up?”

  “We haven’t even started, you two,” Aronia said. “At least wait for fer us to leave.”

  Rowan scratched his head and spoke.

  “No, I’m all for friendship,” he paused. “But let’s be honest. The idea of kingdoms working together is fabulous in theory. But rival CA2s? Together. In the Wilds? For three days? Dangerous.”

  “Agreed.” Timber crossed his arms. “Although we may have shared classes as Comrade-at-Arms, it’s quite clear inter-kingdom teams could be problematic.”

  Rubus looked at Anemone.

  “A bad call is an understatement. Not everyone is into intermingling.”

  “Yeah, Titania might’ve biffed this one,” said Aronia.

  She paid no attention to him, even if he was right. There were constant scowls and even bared teeth. Things she was far too familiar with. Practically everyone had their hands on their sheathed swords. The closed-off postures of restless comrades-at-arms were everywhere and overwhelming. There were far too few homogeneous teams. Believing her mother’s words, Anemone was all for building unity. However, sending out fractured teams into the Wilds seemed unwise. Even if Titania had instilled the idea of unity, that did not extend past Tir-noNog’s Arbor Magna Academy. Although danger might build stronger bonds, the history of blood made it too far of a stretch for peaceful team-building.