Eydis took the end seat at the long ten-person wooden table beside Natalia, who was already absorbed in gossip with Colette and Birgit.

  She set her plate down. Eggs, hash browns, a slice of toast she didn’t remember taking. She picked up the coffee, took a sip, and immediately regretted it. It was bitter, over-extracted, perhaps even scorched.

  The dining hall filled at its own lazy pace as students strutted in, half-asleep and wholly unenthused. Fair enough. It was barely seven.

  Eydis’s gaze wandered across the room. The place had been designed to impress, or at least to pretend at grandeur: exposed merbau beams curving high above in the manner of an old chapel, coloured light from stained-glass windows sifting down over mahogany panels.

  Something still felt a little unfinished and bland. A Cerberus statue would certainly elevate the place, if placed with a little thought beneath that gaudy chandelier. Or better yet, replaced that with scented candles.

  Let the shadows speak. Her lips twitched.

  A fork waved into view. “You’ve got that look,” Natalia said, squinting.

  Eydis stopped the distracting movement with her finger. “What look?”

  “The ‘scheming something ridiculous’ look.”

  “This place could use a Cerberus sculpture,” Eydis said, scooping a small bite of the scrambled egg and tasting it. Not bad, actually. The butter elevated it.

  Colette sputtered into her tea. “Pardon?” Her French accent clipped the word as she lowered her cup. With skin that seemed to drink in the light, she was unlike anyone Eydis had ever seen in her own world.

  Natalia snorted. “You have to be joking.”

  Birgit, the German international student, pushed her glasses up, studying Eydis like she was trying to solve for X. “Wait. You’re not joking?”

  Eydis swallowed her food and commented, “This school has an identity crisis.”

  “Our academy is quite prestigious, you know,” Natalia said, chewing. “I don’t think a mythological beast fits the vibe.”

  “Prestigious how, exactly?” Eydis asked. “Because it’s definitely not for the food.”

  Colette set down her tea cup. “Have you forgotten? Unofficially-officially, they kinda divide us into Gifted, Talented, and Elite.”

  "And the difference between Gifted and Talented?" Eydis asked.

  Colette opened her mouth to answer but another voice interrupted her.

  "Oh, look! If it isn’t the loser table.”

  Tiffany.

  Eydis didn’t bother turning. The synchronised laughter following behind the words did enough of the introductions, as did the cloying perfume.

  Tiffany strolled right up to their table. Colette and Birgit exchanged glances, shifting uncomfortably.

  Natalia, already in fight mode, rose from her seat. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did to Eydis yesterday.”

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  Tiffany folded her arms. “And what do you plan to do about it, ginger?”

  “I’ll take it to the Dean. You’ve gone too far.”

  Natalia’s threat sparked only laughter, even from the bystanders. Everyone seemed to know how that would play out. Tiffany, perhaps, had a way of staying untouchable.

  Eydis sighed inwardly. Wrong move. Sweet, sincere Natalia was playing by rules that didn’t exist here or anywhere. It should have irritated her. Yet, the earnestness of it felt almost, bewilderingly, like a breath of fresh air.

  Tiffany leaned in close. “Report me, ginger? And what proof do you have? Unless you want everyone to know what a clumsy little weirdo your loser friend is.”

  And with that, she shoved.

  Natalia stumbled back, but Eydis caught her just before impact. The tray flipped. Its contents scattered across the table and splashed onto Natalia’s skirt.

  “Oops! How clumsy of you. Try not to trip over nothing next time.” Tiffany tossed her hair and left, her entourage trailing behind, giggling.

  Colette and Birgit moved at once to help. Natalia’s face burned with anger and humiliation.

  “I’m going to change. And I am reporting this,” she declared and left.

  Eydis tapped her fingers against the table, deep in thought. The entire interaction had been predictable. Another petty flex of social hierarchy, nothing she hadn’t seen before.

  And yet…

  The slight tremor of Natalia’s fingers. The way her eyes had glistened with the threat of tears.

  Eydis narrowed her eyes and pushed her untouched meal aside.

  It seemed she had an errand to run.

  Leaning against Natalia’s doorframe, arms crossed, Eydis said, “I need a list of Tiffany’s inner circle.”

  Natalia jumped, fingers clutching the black button on her tartan skirt. “What… how did you even find my room?”

  “It wasn’t difficult.”

  “I locked the door,” Natalia grumbled.

  “Locks are mostly symbolic.”

  “They’re not supposed to be.” Natalia huff, and asked, “Can I have a minute?”

  Eydis stayed where she was.

  Natalia flushed. “You mean now? While I’m changing?”

  “I don’t see the issue.”

  “The issue is you standing there not seeing the issue.”

  “We’re both female. That makes it irrelevant,” Eydis said, and regretted it as the memory of Astra, the love poem, and the kiss flashed through her mind.

  Of course gender was not the only factor in attraction here. She sighed, turned around, and closed the door. “Humans…”

  Fabric rustled as Natalia undressed. Her voice softened. “It’s not about categories. I just get… self-conscious.”

  “You’re assuming I belong to one.”

  “I didn’t—look, forget it. You’re over Astra, then? She looked upset last night.”

  “She wasn't exactly waiting up when I got back," Eydis replied. "Do you think I could request a private room?"

  “In this academy, only two Gifted council members have that access: Athena and Theo, President and VP, both A?Class,” Natalia rambled. “Wait… Astra’s A?Class, isn’t she? And on the council?”

  “Are you telling me or asking me?”

  “Okay, fair. It’s just… kinda weird she didn’t request one.” Natalia patted her skirt. “All done.”

  Eydis turned to face Natalia. “Gifted. What exactly does that mean here?”

  Natalia tied her red hair into a quick ponytail. “There are three unofficial cliques here: Elites, Tiffany types—they are filthy rich with legacy and all; then the Talented, like you, the scholarship students; and finally…”

  "The Gifted?"

  "Yeah. People with… abilities.” Natalia hesitated on the word.

  Abilities. Was that… magic?

  It made perfect sense then. "Are you also Gifted?"

  Natalia stiffened visibly at the question. "How did you...?"

  "Your reaction to the Eye was different. You were not afraid. And given how Tiffany treats you, you are hiding it.”

  Come to think of it, Eydis had noticed that students here wore proud pins on their green blazers’ lapels: the academy’s insignia, some sport club pins, and a rare few students wore a peculiar pin with a strange symbol that didn’t look like the insignia. Perhaps… glyphs?

  Natalia’s shoulders sagged. “Gifted students go to regular classes just like everyone else, but we also receive specialised training to control our Gifts. They track us, our performance, our power, our mana.”

  “Intrusive.”

  “It is,” Natalia replied. “They define us by how dangerous we might be.”

  “But it must help. Against people like Tiffany.”

  “I don’t like being labeled.” Natalia’s usual bubbly exterior solemnised. “I’m more than a set of stats or a potential threat—“

  “Or a possibility,” Eydis replied instantly, her lips curling into a small, genuine smile.

  Natalia stared, then cleared her throat. “Right. Tiffany’s group.”

  She tiptoed to take a thick volume on the overhead shelf and pressed it into Eydis’s hands.

  St Kevin’s Yearbook, 2049.

  Eydis flipped through while Natalia pointed out names, faces, lines of connection.

  A slow smile tugged at Eydis’s mouth.

  Information, at last.