Hildebrand broke the silence with a clap. Her hands clasped together, in the gesture of a prayer. And light erupted from the ground. It was brighter than ever, in the presence of the dark void. The cold dark had always been her closest advocate. Her most reliable ally. Her champion, always by her side. Her knight.

  There were gasps.

  The Consecrated Field was small. But more than enough to fill the courtyard. More than enough to prove her identity. Flowers sprung from between the paved stones, making paths.

  “It’s late, everyone,” she said.

  She raised her hands, and the lanterns came to life, like props waiting on a cue. They lit the paths back to the dorms. Greg was the first to go, running back. Then the others trickled away, just as they had arrived.

  But Priscilla clung tightly to D, staring with fearful eyes. She was devoid of her usual bluster and energy, which one might even call bratty. Fearful of her future, perhaps, with the real Saintess standing before her.

  “Don’t worry,” Hildebrand said to her. “You have an important role to play. Maybe more important than mine.”

  Priscilla didn’t respond. But Hildebrand could read her face. “I do?” it asked.

  Hildebrand nodded. “So, don’t worry about a thing. You can sleep soundly.”

  “Yes,” Priscilla mumbled. “Then, good night.”

  “Good night,” Hildebrand answered.

  Priscilla tried to drag D along, but he held her hand, just to let her go. “I can’t go with you,” he said. She had to go alone.

  It was the ladies' dorm, after all.

  Priscilla whined quietly, but went alone to the waiting Anya, with whom Priscilla disappeared indoors.

  D gave a nod to Hildebrand and turned away from her, too.

  “Good night,” she told him.

  He turned back, tilting his head, avoiding her gaze. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Are you alright?”

  She smiled. “Of course.”

  His brows furrowed and his eyes hid behind his hair. And he looked back as he turned, before walking away.

  Hildebrand’s perfect smile eased, and it grew softer. She recalled what Dolph said.

  “They’ll save the world,” he said. It was still clear in her mind. Like he was speaking in her ear.

  It seemed their relationship wasn’t ill-fated. They were familiar characters. But of a new story. One that had yet to unfold. One that wasn’t a tragedy. Perhaps.

  “In a way,” Dolph said.

  Hildebrand narrowed her eyes as Dolph’s voice echoed in her head. It was a vague omen. One that made her turn her head from side to side, like trying to shake off a bad dream.

  Hildebrand turned her gaze to her right to find two beady dots staring back, like distant lights in the dark. Like distant stars in the black void. Her eyes almost popped out of their sockets, and her heart almost stopped.

  “Wah!” she yelped, losing all her saintly composure.

  “Yo.”

  “Geez!” she hissed. “You scared me!”

  He had been hidden in some impossible alcove between the angled light of the lanterns. In a gap between spaces. Standing right by her side the entire time, without her even knowing it, like an entity of the night.

  He slinked out, with his hand raised by his face, giving Hildebrand a wave.

  “Creepy…” she whispered.

  “Me?”

  “Yes… You,” she answered. “Were you standing behind me this entire time?”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “…” She had nothing to say to his honesty. She only sat on the fountain’s edge again.

  “You alright?” he asked. “You hit your head pretty bad and started putting on a light show.”

  “A light—It wasn’t a light show…” she said. “And I’m fine.”

  “You don’t sound fine. You sound like you’re about to die.”

  “Hahaha,” she laughed. It came to a slow stop. “Haha… Ha. Thank you,” she said.

  “For?”

  “For asking,” she said. “But I’m fine.”

  He nodded. “Good.” And he held his hand out.

  “Uh…” She looked down at it. It looked like an invitation. But she knew better than that. She fished out her coin purse and placed a silver coin in his hand. “Maybe I’m not fine,” she said. “I remember paying you a few days ago.” She gasped quietly. “You don’t think it’s brain damage, do you?”

  “It’s not. And you did,” he said, placing the coin back in her hands. He extended his hand again, extending an invitation. “You’re hungry, right? I’ll treat you to dinner.”

  She timidly placed her hand in it, wondering where he would lead her, with the dining hall already closed. But as soon as she did, Dolph led her towards the woods, straying into the night.

  “Wait!” she yelped, pulling her hand away.

  He tilted his head at her.

  “Where are we going?”

  “My place.”

  “Your home?” she asked. “In the middle of the woods?” It didn’t seem out of the question. It wouldn’t even have been outrageous to say he really was an entity of the night, fading in and out of the dark. It was twice he had done that. At least once more than was normal.

  “No, the shack,” he said. “By the lake.”

  “Oh. Right.” She gestured for him to lead the way.

  And before she knew it, they had already walked so deep in she could no longer see the lantern lights by the campus. The dark was nothing to fear, but the noises of the wilderness made Hildebrand stick close, just short to clinging to Dolph’s arm.

  He stopped, and she bumped into him.

  “Huh?” she muttered.

  He turned his beady eyes to her. Glaring ominously. His eyes narrowed, and his usual scowl seemed to be filled with contempt.

  “W-what?” she asked.

  “You’re a problem,” he said.

  “Huh?” Hildebrand’s blood ran cold. And an icy shiver ran up her spine. I am? Why? she asked herself. Her thoughts paced, and she came to a conclusion.

  She smiled awkwardly. “You didn’t know I was the Saintess?” she asked. She was a wild card. Someone who didn’t exist in the story he knew. Someone who didn’t belong. A problem. “It’s not exactly a secret,” she said.

  “…No,” he said, his voice trailing off.

  “Oh,” she muttered. Hildebrand’s shaking fingers touched the handle of her knife through her skirt. But those clumsy things struggled to move her skirt aside. “Why am I a problem?” she whispered. She had trusted him too much.

  Her fingers found leather.

  She should’ve known better.

  They traced the handle of a weapon that had tasted blood.

  She knew better.

  More than once.

  “…” He sneered slightly. And raised his hand.

  And the knife lifted out of its sheath.

  Dolph pulled his hand to his face, shielding his eyes. And sneered intensely. “You’re so damn bright,” he said. “You’re attracting bugs.”

  “Huh?” Hildebrand muttered, letting the handful of cloth in her hand drop back down to her side. “Bugs?”

  He lifted his hand to her head. She lowered it, expecting him to lay his hand on her. But he pulled away just as quickly, holding something between his fingers. A large capsule, shaped like an elongated biscuit.

  “What is that?” Hildebrand asked, pointing.

  It sprouted long, thin, wriggling legs. And it buzzed. It buzzed to life as the hard exoskeleton opened, revealing its massive buzzing wings.

  “Wah!” Hildebrand yelped. She snatched the enormous insect out of Dolph’s hand and threw it with all her might into the sky. With any luck, it would never return.

  “Don’t you have a delicate bone in your body?” she huffed. “Shoving that thing in a lady’s face?”

  “No,” he said. “My bone density is orders of magnitude higher than what should be normal.”

  She groaned at his nonsense. “I’m going back,” she said.

  But when she turned, endless foliage and canopy met her. A great forest gripped the academy grounds. The dark was one thing, but the forest was fearsome, even in the light. It wasn’t unlike the vast oceans in a way. No one really knew what lay inside. No amount of illumination could reveal everything inside its sprawling grounds, teeming with life. There was too much to see, too far a distance to cover. When the evils of the World’s End spilled forth, even they marched along the plains and roads. They were the evils of man, after all. Beasts in a sense, but not wild.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  It was written that long ago, after Emperor Apolly banished the primordial darkness, he made a deal with the wild beasts of the world. They had been mankind’s allies in turning away the dark. Chief among them, the dragons, who were ancient and wise, and spoke the tongue of the gods. Man would rule the clearings and call them civilizations. The beasts would rule the mountains and the forests and the skies and call them the wilds. And they would lurk around every corner.

  “Where did you say you lived?” Hildebrand asked, turning back to Dolph. Only to find nothing. Her head turned and turned, and her head spun. “Dolph?”

  “I’m right here,” he said.

  But she couldn’t see him. The woods weren’t simply dark, that wasn’t a problem. They were labyrinthian. She could only run toward the sound of his voice.

  She couldn’t be certain. But she had it in good faith that he had quickened his pace when she chased after him—using his long lanky legs to take bounding steps away from her. His voice seemed to get further and further as she ran. She had seen neither hide nor hare of Dolph, even when she came leaping out of the forest and into a hilly clearing.

  Hildebrand leaned onto her knees, panting. Sweat dripped from her face even with the strength and stamina the power of the Saintess granted her. She dropped to her aching knees. Feeling betrayed more than tired. I’m a fool, she thought. She turned back to the forest, wondering if she cut straight through it: Would it take me back?

  “Hey!” Dolph shouted, leaping out of the forest. He nearly leaped right into Hildebrand’s arms, only to twist out of the way and land on the grass. “What the hell!” he growled. “You just started running!”

  Hildebrand gasped. And she shyly touched her fingers together. “Umm. I thought you were ahead of me,” she said.

  “Ugh,” he groaned, clambering to his feet. He brushed his hair back and stood tall, putting up a front. But he sucked air in through flared nostrils. And his cheeks expanded like balloons when he covertly exhaled out the corners of his lips.

  He put a hand on his hip, huffing, and pointed at a clearing in the distance. “Road’s that way,” he said. “If you still want to go back.”

  “There’s a road?” Hildebrand asked, wiping her brow. “Why don’t you just take that?”

  “Takes twice as long,” he said.

  “That’s why you run through the woods in the middle of the night?” she asked. “Can you see in the dark or something?”

  “I didn’t want to run,” he grumbled. “And you can see too.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “A little. But…”

  Dolph didn’t bother to wait for a response. He waved for her, but he was already well on his way, continuing down a long stretch towards the lake in the distance. And Hildebrand hurriedly followed him down the hill. She was feeling nosy. She wanted to see what the hurry was for.

  Walking down, the sprawling Schwarzette Mere ahead of them seemed like the void, dotted with twinkling stars, more so than the actual sky itself. It was quite the sight. A small wonder of the world.

  As they followed the path, a light came on in the short distance ahead of them, inviting them forward. It lit the porch to a small shack sitting on the shore, reminiscent of a cozy little home. It was a little mysterious.

  Who could be waiting for you? Hildebrand thought, looking at Dolph. She couldn’t help but be curious. She couldn’t help but wonder. She knew so little about him.

  He was dreary and distant, not all that social. He vanished at times, only to reappear when she needed him, unlike Erika, who simply vanished. He hardly seemed real sometimes. Especially when he faded in and out of the shadows.

  She brushed a finger against his arm. Just to check. He was there. The main character of a story of his own.

  Perhaps he had secret trysts with another student. Even though it was against the code of conduct. He was picky about the rules he followed. Maybe it was a woman from the nearby town. Or even a man, Hildebrand thought. A thought that caught Dolph’s peculiar sixth sense. He glanced back, scowling suspiciously.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she said.

  Perhaps his family had come to visit him, to see him after his expulsion from the dorms. To see how he was doing. To see if he was doing well.

  It could even have been a pet waiting eagerly for his arrival. Even though Hildebrand doubted an animal could light the lamps. Although, there were some that could use magic.

  It was a little romantic. Just a little.

  But as they neared the shack, the mystery dwindled, and a small anxiety grew. There was no one waiting on the porch. The large window through which lights shined through revealed an empty home. One that was sparsely furnished, and devoid of life. The only thing that stood out was a bookshelf that was sparse, too.

  Dolph entered first, quietly. Greeting no one.

  “I hope I’m not intruding,” Hildebrand announced as she stepped inside. It was clearly empty.

  “You’re not,” Dolph answered.

  At least she came to know one good thing. “Have you had anyone else over?”

  “No,” he said.

  “Don’t you get lonely out here?”

  “No,” he answered again. “Why?”

  “I just wanted to see if you were alright out here,” she said. “All by yourself… Since you’re my friend.” Or something like it.

  He put a hand up. Stopping her. It was a defensive gesture. A gesture which told her she overstepped.

  “Ah,” she whispered. She regretted asking.

  Then he pointed down at slippers waiting by the door. There were three pairs, besides the pair he had already slipped into.

  “No shoes inside,” he said.

  “Oh!” Hildebrand said. “I know that,” she said. “I’m not a barbarian.”

  He gave her his usual resting scowl and raised a brow.

  “I’m not,” she insisted, slipping into the slippers, then slipping inside. “I’m very civilized.”

  While Hildebrand examined the bookshelf and the marked map open on it, Dolph wasted no time starting a fire, with just the point of a finger, aimed at the open furnace. He didn’t even speak a word. It was a level of control over magic uncharacteristic of beginners, even talented ones. It was clear he had lit the lantern on the porch.

  He rummaged through a cabinet and pulled out a small bevy of foods. Ingredients that he dumped into a pot that went over the furnace stove. Followed by a sprinkling of spices and salt, like sprinkling gold.

  So that’s what you’re spending your money on! Hildebrand thought.

  Then he gave it another dusting of spice and salt. One that looked expensive. And unsatisfied still, he shook the shakers, pouring his money away.

  “That’s expensive!” Hildebrand exclaimed.

  He stopped and turned. “I know,” he said. Of course he did. It was his own money.

  “It seems like a waste,” she said, knowing it was for her.

  “It’s not,” he said, giving the pot one more dusting.

  It came to simmer quickly, like magic. Then a boil. An aroma filled the air. One that made Hildebrand’s nose tingle, and her mouth water. One that made her gulp loudly. He was right; it wasn’t a waste.

  Before she could ask him what he was making, he stepped out through another door, out onto a dock that stretched out into the dark waters of Schwarzette Mere. A lantern hung just outside the door, scattering its light across the surface of the water. Creating twinkling stars in the void. It was a little disappointing to know the wonder was so mundane, despite its beauty. But even more disappointing still when the light went off, and those stars disappeared.

  As was becoming a habit, Dolph emerged from the dark. This time with a dried fillet and vegetables. He worked them, dice them, and flung them all into the pot with just a point of his finger.

  Hildebrand clapped politely. “Wow,” she said. Once again, the degree of his magic surprised her. Magic Over Matter was less a spell, and more of a state of sorcery that enlightened mages entered. “When did you learn how to do that?” she asked.

  “It’s basic telekinesis,” he answered.

  “Telekin…Tele—”

  “Telekinesis. Moving objects with just your mind,” he said, still pointing his finger at the pot. Just to demonstrate the power of his mind, and just his mind, he pointed at the cutting board, whisking it away. And then a small bag, that jingled with coins as he cleared it aside. Then he pulled the table out to the middle of the room by hand, then pulled a chair to it, also by hand.

  He pointed to the chair. And Hildebrand watched intently, waiting to see what trick he was going to pull next.

  “Take a seat,” he said, wagging his finger at the chair.

  “Oh…” she murmured, setting Dolph’s travel plans back on the bookshelf. “Thanks.” She was a little disappointed. But having the Saintess sit for dinner was a magic trick of its own.

  As soon as she sat, he dropped a saucer of whatever he had been stewing in front of her. It was tinted red, and oily at the top, but still had a creaminess to it. And it smelled as it looked, fragrant, rich, and decadent. And a biscuit lounged in it, dipped on the side.

  “Try it,” he said.

  Dolph watched intently as she did. Staring with his beady blue eyes. He waited quietly, with fingers rubbing against his spoon, full of apprehension. He was waiting for a review.

  Hildebrand wouldn’t keep him waiting. “It’s delicious,” she said. She didn’t lie, although she would have, if she needed to.

  He held his mouth, hiding it away. “Good to hear,” he said. He was clever on occasion. But he wasn’t now. Hildebrand could see the small smile on his face.

  “Thank you for the meal,” she said. “I didn’t mean to impose on you,” she said.

  “You’re not imposing,” he said. “I invited you.”

  He ate quietly and cleaned up quietly. “You can help yourself to more,” he said as he stepped out through a door on the other side.

  Hildebrand took him up on his offer, even though she didn’t mean to impose on him again. But even after she finished her second serving, he didn’t return. So she followed him out. Out onto the dock, which she found missing a person, and one fishing rod from a rack of others. But there was still a long stretch of road to go.

  And there, at the end of the long, unsettling path into black, inky waters, she found Dolph, sitting at the end, fishing rod in hand, quiet as ever.

  “I never would have guessed you enjoyed fishing,” she said.

  “I don’t,” he answered.

  “…But you’re doing it right now,” she said.

  “Yep.”

  “Right after spending all day in class. And sparring.”

  “Yeah.”

  “In the middle of the night.”

  “Mhmm.”

  His answers just didn’t sit right with her. They raised more questions, as if taunting her.

  “I know!” she exclaimed. “You really like fish.” But he couldn’t have. He ate all his meals in the dining hall whenever he got the chance. Strangely, they hardly ever served fish.

  “It’s ok,” he said. “I don’t mind having it on hand.”

  “Are you making money from this?” she asked.

  “Not really,” he said. Then he tilted his head from side to side. “A little. But I don’t do it for the money.”

  “So, you’re doing it for fun.”

  “Nope.”

  She sat beside him. “Are you pranking me right now?”

  “No,” he grumbled. “Quit bugging me about it.”

  “So, what do you do for fun?”

  He had no answer.

  “Cooking?” she asked. It seemed unlikely, even though his dish impressed her. The cooks she had met loved food as much as the art of cooking itself.

  “No. I only cook what I need,” he said. He was still lean. Still a little too lean, despite his gains.

  “Then, tinkering? Like that thing you’ve been working on.”

  “No. I don’t tinker,” he said. “I just make what I need.”

  “Reading?” she asked.

  “The ones on the bookshelf?” he asked.

  “Yes!”

  “I wrote those,” he said.

  Hildebrand gasped. “Really?” she asked with unabashed glee. “Can I read them?”

  “They’re technical documents,” he said. “You wouldn’t find them interesting.”

  “Oh,” she murmured. She still had half a mind to skim through them, but they sounded like work to Dolph. “Do you collect interesting sticks?”

  “No,” he said.

  “Horde canned rations?”

  “No…”

  “Sing with the singing snails?”

  “What?”

  It would take too long to explain, so Hildebrand moved on. “How about scavenging?”

  “No,” he said. “I don’t dig through trash.”

  “Not trash,” she said. “Ruins and that sort of thing.”

  “Isn’t that just graverobbing?”

  “Noo,” she whined. “It’s—” She stopped. It might have been graverobbing.

  “You have strange hobbies,” Dolph said.

  “Hah. Those aren’t my hobbies.”

  “Mhmm. Whoever you’re talking about has strange hobbies.”

  She answered on a reflex. “He doesn’t! Those aren’t strange hobbies… And there’s no graverobbing involved.” There was. The Hero had picked an ancient tomb clean of its oddities at least twice. He’s frugal, she thought, defending Hugo against herself.

  “What are your hobbies, Mister Not-So-Strange?” she asked.

  He furrowed his brows, scowling deeper than usual.

  She considered letting him be when his line got a tug. He let out a yelp, very much unlike himself. And he leaped to his feet.

  “Whoa!” he exclaimed. He reeled and stopped and jerked and reeled again. He became animated. Like a statue coming to life for the first time.

  And when he pulled the line up, he held the lively fish up and chopped the back of its neck with his hand. Hildebrand gasped at the technique. She had never seen anything like it. Or even heard or read anything like it. Clearly, she had been in the dark about how fishing actually worked.

  He held the fish up and looked it up and down with a smile forming on his face. It went up to his neck and down to his knees, surely something to be proud of. Then Dolph looked at Hildebrand out of the corner of his narrowing eyes. His smile vanished, and his scowl returned. “Fishing,” he finally answered. “I guess.” He answered quietly, as if begrudgingly admitting defeat.

  Hildebrand laughed. And then giggled as her breath ran short.

  “I don’t know if I enjoy it. It’s just something I used to do with my cr—my father,” he said, tossing the fish back into the water. What seemed dead came to life the moment it splashed into the black ink of the lake. But the rod, he tossed down at his feet, his fingers still grasping at the air. “Just something I can’t let go of. That’s all.”

  “Oh,” Hildebrand said. “That’s rare. A nobleman fishing?”

  “Hmm?” he murmured. “I guess so.”

  “Hey,” she said, pointing up at him, like she had caught him red-handed. “I thought you were from another world. Or were you nobility there too?”

  His lips parted in surprise. And then pulled into a smile. Dolph chuckled, low and quiet, and ended with a tired sigh. His beady eyes turned to the sky.

  She followed his lead, staring up at the empty sky. “You said people lived among the stars where you’re from,” she said.

  “They used to,” he said.

  “Do you think there are people living among the stars in this world?”

  “No,” he said. “That’s impossible.”

  “Why?”

  “There aren’t any stars in this world.”

  “What?” She couldn’t ever tell if he was lying or telling the truth. Not really. Not with any certainty. He was strangely convincing. “Please tell me you’re joking,” she said.

  He closed his eyes and turned away from her, turning back to his shack. “I am,” he said. It was the first time Hildebrand was certain, well and truly, he was lying.

  “And I’m not from another world,” he said as he stepped away. Away from the edge bordering the dark depths of Schwarzette Mere. He suddenly seemed fleeting and out of reach. Like those ghosts. “That was just bullshit,” he said. That was the second time.

  She asked him, “Where are you going?” Grasping the fishing rod he’d left behind.

  He turned back to her and stepped back towards her to offer his hand. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. She didn’t accept it. She wasn’t sure she could trust someone who’d lie to her three times in a row.