Chapter 10
Mortuus School

 

When the mind is asleep, it can create completely new worlds and realities. When it awakens, some consciousness is still in there before the truth seeps into the sleepy mind far enough to chase away the fog that envelops it.

This is what happened to Darren when he'd awoken from the sleep. His subconscious created a whole new world in which he was taken from the shelter, carried by a stranger Emeralde across the country, and put in an elite school located in the castle. He was prepared that as soon as he opened his eyes, this dream world would dissolve into the grays of the dirty walls surrounding him in his little cubicle. The strangest thing, however, was that instead of the musty stench of his hard bed, he could feel the delicate fresh aroma of a pillow soft as fluff. When he'd finally gave up and opened his eyes, he had to blink a few times before his sleepy mind adjusted to reality.

Something was wrong. He must have kept dreaming because instead of a cobwebbed ceiling he could see a wooden vault surrounded by green curtains. He sprang up abruptly and looked around, absorbing into his crystal eyes the light emanating from behind the green curtains.

It... wasn't a dream! By Luciss' brightness! It wasn't! It was real! It all happened for real!

He was breathless for a moment as his stomach swapped places with his heart. He carefully opened the curtain as if afraid that the chamber behind it would disappear but it has not disappeared.

There was a square of sunlight shining on the green carpet. The bed on the other side had the curtains open.

"Oh, I can see you're awake," he heard a jovial voice, and then the door slammed. That strange boy appeared in Darren's field of vision. He was wearing only black pants, and drops of water were glistening on his fair skin. He was definitely much better built, Darren thought while he was studying his muscular stomach and arms as the boy reached for a white shirt that was lying on the bed and he ragged it out, buttoning it up. Darren wondered if he would also gain some muscle after a while and would look like other boys his age.

"The bathroom is free, you can use it," the Brunnite said, buttoning his shirt and putting his multicolored thongs around his neck.

Darren nodded and pushed his legs off the bed. He closed his eyes and smiled as his bare feet sank into the soft carpet. He got up and cautiously entered the room.

There was an oil lamp standing on a small wooden cabinet, illuminating the room with warm light. First, he carefully examined each thing, and then, once he discovered their functioning, he could use them. The weirdest thing was that gargoyle on the ceiling. Darren had been cleaning himself up only in the stream before or in the iron tub, which Mother Octavia sometimes filled with water to wash all the dirt off the boys but she never washed him, as if she was afraid to touch him at all. He had to learn to keep clean himself, although it was difficult in the shelter because everything was sticky with dirt and dust. Though here, apparently, cleanliness was much more cared for and required. Darren needs to adjust to this to not stand out from the rest.

He pulled on the rope and jumped back as water spilled out from the little holes. First, he carefully put one hand under the stream, and after that he put his whole arm. The feeling was extremely pleasant. He closed his eyes and dared to go in all the way, and almost gasped as the water seeped into his eyes, nose, and mouth. However, he quickly figured out how to hold his head so that the water would only run over his body, and the impression was downright wonderful. As if a tension and uncertainty have been washed by the water along with the dirt, replaced by a feeling of complete relaxation. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes, enjoying the coolness which was flowing down his hot skin. He could feel the gentle rivulets running down his fingers, extinguishing the incessant burning sensation he felt in them all the time. He could stay here for a very long time, but he knew he would eventually have to go out to face the world outside but from now on he will be feeling that protective, cooling layer on his skin.

"Well, I thought you'd been sucked by something in there," the Brunnite muttered amusedly as Darren left the bathroom, making sure he was perfectly covered by the clothes. He didn't want the boy to see how thin he was. Water was dripping from his hair to his cheeks and running down the back of his neck. "You could've used my towel until you get your own," the boy muttered, eyeing him carefully. "It's that piece of fluffy material hung on the hook over there."

"I... didn't know," Darren replied softly.

"The castle Mongrels have just brought your things. I had them put in a trunk." Darren nodded. Apart from the new things and the equipment needed for the classes, he didn't have anything of his own, so he didn't even have to look there. "Breakfast is starting soon, so we can go. On the way, I'll tell you some of the most important things about school."

Darren felt a painful tightness in his stomach. He was very hungry, although the thought of having a meal with the gods knows how many other students of this institution put him in ineffable terror, but he has to survive it. He has no other choice. If he wants to stay here, he has to face whatever fate brings him. Even if he only wanted to hide behind green curtains, in the soft, fragrant darkness.

He put on his shoes and carefully followed the Brunnite out of the room. He wasn't wearing the Scout cloak yet, after all, he wasn't officially one yet. He was wearing only his plain white shirt and black pants. He was slowly following the boy and feeling that with each step he was sinking deeper and deeper into some invisible mud that hindered his movement and made his feet heavy as stones. Even from afar, he could hear some conversations coming from the Scouts Chamber.

"Joel! Have you heard that our Guardian's back?" a tall Emeralde with short-cut red hair asked. "Finally! I'm already fed up with this crazy Trux! We have enough classes with him to..." The boy cut off suddenly, seeing Darren emerging from behind the Brunnite, then he frowned. "Hey, you! Which one of you changed my bedding? It was all crumpled up!"

Darren clenched his hands into fists, opening his mouth to reply that he wasn't any castle Mongrel, but a boy called Joel anticipated him, putting his hands into the pockets and answering in a confident, firm voice. "He's a student, Higgins. Wolverson brought him yesterday and put him in my bedroom. He will be studying at our school."

"What?" The boy widened his eyes, looking at Darren as if he had suddenly grown a second head, then turned back to Joel. "You have to be joking? Have they accepted some lousy Mongrel into our school? Has this old man gone mad? When my father finds out about it..."

Darren felt all his fears hit his stomach as hard as if he had been punched. He was out of breath for a moment, but soon the flames came, burning his skin and his eyes with anger.

"I may be a Mongrel, but certainly not as lousy as you are," he drawled angrily.

The boy closed his mouth and widened his eyes, looking at Darren as if he was a sheep that suddenly bared its fangs, and they all knew sheep shouldn't do such things.

Darren felt the startled glances of a few of the other students seated by the fireplace with the Emeralde. Including Joel's gaze, who turned his head to look at him with incredulous intrigue.

"Can we go now?" Darren asked, trying to control the trembling of his clenched hands and his voice.

Joel smiled with the corner of his mouth and looked back at the shocked Emeralde.

"I'll see you at breakfast," he said casually, as if nothing extraordinary had just happened, then started toward the exit. Darren followed, feeling their stares and whispers hit his shell.

"Have you seen his eyes?"

"What happened to him?"

"Are you sure he's a Mongrel? He looks like a demon."

"Did you hear what he'd said to Higgins?"

"Is he going to study here? After all, they never accepted..."

The door closed, severing Darren from their fierce prejudices which were reaching out for him. He knew that if he didn't mark his territory from the beginning, showing them that he was no lousy Mongrel but one of them, it would only get worse later and everyone would treat him like a servant. Even if he had to spend most of the time fighting them, he wasn't going to let go. He was used to fighting and avoiding the flying stones. Neither of them had ever knocked him to the ground and neither will they do it now.

"You told him quite well," Joel muttered, looking at Darren with admiration. "Higgins is fine, he just has never seen--"

"Mongrel who wouldn't be lousy?" Darren asked sourly. He was still agitated, and the flames inside had not yet subsided enough that he could not feel their warming heat. It took him a moment to realize that Joel had burst out laughing at his words.

"You could put it that way," he replied with amusement, looking at Darren with increasing intrigue.

In the daylight, the castle looked even more impressive. At night, shadows were lurking in its corners, imparted atmosphere of murk, but only in the daylight, one could fully see its enormity. Darren was following Joel, scrutinizing every painting, sculpture, and even the window he had passed, absorbing their perfect proportions, carved ornaments, and ornate frames, and listening to the boy's sonorous voice as he was telling him about the school.

The lessons run from Monday to Friday. There is free time on Saturdays and Sundays for rest or study or exercise. On some days the apprentices can go out to Lavrance. In the southern part of the castle, on the other side of the courtyard, there is a huge library and a room for sick or injured students called the medical room. Lessons run from morning until noon, then there is a lunch break, and then lessons again. Three times a week after classes, there is hand-to-hand combat training, which can sometimes go up till dinner. Some classes like History, Languages of Helion, Sneaking, Theory of Bluff and Persuasion or Traps take place in the classrooms, others like Shooting, Horse Riding, Hunting, Taming and Tracking takes place outside, although sometimes in bad weather they learn the theory in the classrooms. Herbalism is learned in the greenhouse, Poisons in the dungeons, Climbing in various places in the castle, Reading Maps and Heaven takes place in the highest tower in the castle. Most of the classes are separated, but some are combined with the Assassins.

"We have four Guilds here," Joel continued, turning into another corridor and leading Darren around the school building as if he was guiding a tour. "The Warriors are dumb thugs, big and stupid. We don't have any classes with them and they have their training ground in the other part of the school. The Archers... oh, they're the most beautiful flowers of this school," he sighed dreamily. "Most of the prettiest girls become the Archers, unfortunately, they practice even farther, in the west they have a whole fenced paddock to themselves. The Assassins are the worst rogues, mean and self-righteous types, unfortunately, you will meet them quite often because we have Poisons, History, and Languages with them. The worst of them is Delemiar, his father is the Guardian of the Warriors, and this jerk reminds us of it at every turn. He thinks he is the master of this school. Well. All the rest are Scouts. The best ones of course," Joel winked at him, but Darren didn't understand the gesture. "Most of the teachers are fine. Master Wolverson is of course the best. Probably all the girls from the school are in love with him or at least the majority of them. The others thirst over Master Leossin, but he's such a prime pansy who thinks that he's someone special, and he's just an ordinary Brunnite. I'll show you all of them at breakfast. Trux is a little crazy and Sainsberry seems to have a stalking mania, but she's not that bad anyway. Varis is the worst of them all." Darren flinched at the name and suddenly saw that terrifying face again right before his eyes. "You better don't mess up with him, or you'll end up miserably. He's sadistic, vindictive, and cruel. Supposedly he killed more people than the famous Master Mandelion, and that's not even the worst of it yet. I've heard what he can do to his victims, but I won't tell you about it now or you'll lose your appetite."

Darren pursed his lips. He didn't want to hear about it at all. The fact that he's going to have lessons with someone like that made him incredulous.
"Well, here we are," the Brunnite said as they went down the last steps and Darren saw to his right a huge, wide-open wooden door from behind which he heard a buzz of conversation and laughter. He stopped suddenly as if his feet had stuck to the ground. "Are you coming?" Joel asked, turning to look at him with a frown.

No. Preferably he would just turn back and not go in there at all. He nodded stiffly, clenched his fists, hid his eyes under the fringe, and strode forward, staring only at Joel's heavy boots walking in front of him.

He has to do it even if he had an impression as if he was entering a cave inhabited by a pack of rabid, hungry wolves who would attack him with their fangs as soon as they smell his blood, and they would gladly tear him apart. He took a breath and walked in between them.

At first, he only heard the sound of metal cutlery and ordinary conversations coming from the neatly arranged tables on both sides of the room but as he passed each table, the conversation suddenly faded, and a haze of whispers hovered around him.

"Is that this Mongrel?"

"Yes, I've heard some Scout talking about him."

"How could they accept a Mongrel to the school?"

"This is unacceptable..."

"Look! Look at his eyes!"

"It's not normal."

"He's some freak of nature."

"They should send him to the kitchen, that's where he belongs."

"More like to Tenebrae himself."

"He's some kind of demon."

"This school is going to the dogs if they accept these dirty mongrels now."

"I'm not going to study with some filthy Mongrel."

"Who does he think he is? He's not allowed to be here. He should go back where he came from."

"Rather where he crawled out from."

"Yes, from hell. And he should stay there."

The mist was rising around him and pilling up, penetrating Darren's ears further and further, more and more painfully, obscuring his eyes and pouring down his throat, tightening the noose around it, warming his cheeks, and clenching his trembling hands in fists but he kept on walking, pushing through it relentlessly, step by step, even if each of it seemed to last an eternity as if the space stretched and distorted by the hate soaked in it.

"Sit down next to me," he heard Joel's voice leading him, piercing with a bright beam through the thick fog. Darren saw Joel sit down on the bench at the table and shuffle to the side to make room for Darren at the very edge. The boy took a deep, shuddering breath and sat down next to him.

He saw a gleaming silver plate and cutlery lying next to it, farther on he saw a silver goblet, some platters filled with golden slices of bread, slices of cheese and smoked meat, vegetables and fruits, jars with jam, jugs with milk and juice. He looked farther and farther, widening his eyes and absorbing all these things with a hungry gaze until he finally found the emerald gaze of an Emeralde girl sitting opposite him. The girl glanced at Joel for a moment, then back at Darren, and her pretty, full lips stretched into an uncertain smile.

Darren blinked, unsure what to do. The haze of whisperings around him was slowly fading, but its cool tendrils were still brushing his ears and neck and that smile was perhaps the only warm flicker in this chill fog.

He couldn't answer her smile, but he bit his lip and looked straight into her big green eyes. Her face was small and proportional, framed by thick red hair reaching down to her shoulders, and her nose and cheeks were covered with so many freckles that it looked like she was perpetually flushed, which was weird because the rest of her face was clear and smooth.

Darren looked to the side involuntarily. Two Brunnite girls next to the Emeralde were whispering something to each other, frowning at him, and farther he saw two more Brunnites. They all looked the same age as Darren. He didn't want to stare too openly, but apart from the Brunnites and a few Emeraldes, there was only one Hyacinthe at the table - a big boy with a round face and two chins who was eating slices of meat from his plate as if he hadn't eaten at least for a week. It seemed as if all the confusion that had arisen with Darren's appearance had completely bypassed him since all that interested him was the food on his plate.

In total, about fifteen people were seated at their table and as Darren could see, it was the farthest table from the entrance, and the closest to the table standing on the dais where the Masters were sitting. Behind the first-year Scouts' table, there were three more tables filled with green-clad Scouts, with older adepts sitting at each next one. Farther on there were four tables filled with adepts clad in black, and on the other side of the aisle, there were four tables filled with blue-clad figures and four with red-clad. All of the tables were collateral to each other and to the teachers' table which was placed at the very end of the room.

As Darren looked there, he could see the broad-shouldered silhouette of Master Wolverson, who discreetly nodded at him and smiled. He was sitting next to some short Hyacinthe with long hair. Farther on there was a beautiful Hyacinthe woman, with a white-clad Headmaster sitting beside her in the very center, but Darren's gaze was almost immediately drawn to the second-placed black-clad figure on the left. Darren sucked in a breath and lowered his head sharply, feeling his heart sink into the stomach.

Master Varis was looking directly at him.

This shouldn't surprise him, after all, almost everyone in the room - including the teachers - was looking at him. Yet only that man's gaze was so... intense as if he wanted to pierce Darren right through.

Before his heart could return to its place, it was aroused again by the sound of metal hitting the cup, which silenced the prevailing noise in the room. The Headmaster slowly got up from his carved chair and peered at the students from beneath bright, furrowed eyebrows.

"As you have probably noticed, a new student has appeared among you..." he began in a loud, melodious voice and his words revived the mist that began to rise in clouds over all the tables as if his words confirmed all of rumors and conjectures that had been floating around in ribbons between the mouths of the students.

"Quiet!" he said louder, and it was enough to make the hall silent. Darren was staring at the plate in front of him and didn't have to look up at all to know that all eyes were focused on him right now. "Mr. Darren Hayden has been accepted into the ranks of this amazing facility with my full support and trust. He is as much a member of our small community as any of you, and I trust that he will be treated with due respect and kindness here. I'd like you to stay away from him. I'd like you to know that any physical symptom of intolerance toward him will be severely punished. This afternoon he will undergo an initial test that will allow us to decide which guild he will be enrolled in. Now I'd like to wish you a nice rest before the next week full of activities." The Headmaster sat down and the whispers rose again, but this time a little softer.

"If I had such a speech at my arriving..." Joel muttered with amusement. "Are you not hungry?" he asked, putting a few slices of cheese on his plate and spreading jam on the bread.

Darren felt his stomach rumble terribly, but right now somehow, he couldn't force himself to reach for anything. Not after all of this... how could he swallow anything? He could still hear their whispers, their cruel words... but he couldn't let them see that their hatred mattered to him. He cannot show them any weakness even for a moment.

He took a deep breath and reached for the nearest slice of bread, placed the smoked meat and a slice of cheese on it, and bit into it, sighing with pleasure.
Gods, how tasty it was...

Everything tasted great and delicious. He had never eaten some of these things before. Like such small round fruits with green skin and moist flesh called grapes or those ones with a slightly tart-sweet taste resembling red corals. They were grenades. He wanted to try everything, but his tight stomach could only hold a few bites of each dish. So that was what Master Wolverson called a feast. Darren had an impression that he might get used to them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see unfavorable glances of the Scouts who were sitting on the other side of the table, but with his stomach full, they somehow bothered him less. He will have to get used to their whispers and stares, and they will have to get used to his presence here. None of them had another choice.

"Do you see that Hyacinthe woman sitting on the right side of the Headmaster? She's Mistress Serenite. She's his deputy," Joel began to explain to him while Darren was eating the last bits of bread with plum jam. "She's in charge here when the Headmaster is away on diplomatic matters. To the Headmaster's left, there is Master Mortimus, the father of that scumbag Delemiar. He's the Guardian of the Warriors. Scary type. He gives huge amounts of money to the school, which is why he sits so close to the Headmaster." Darren nodded and looked at the stiff, thin man who had sharp, unfavorable look, a long face, and long blond hair. "He's a Hyacinthe. Even at the table, there is a hierarchy. The Hyacinthes sit inside, then the Emeraldes and the Brunnites outside."

Darren nodded, licking the remains of jam from his lips, and looked farther left. Right at Master Varis' stiff black-clad figure... who was looking straight at him again.

"Yeah, and that's Varis," he heard Joel's voice as he quickly looked down, trying to get rid of that strange feeling writhing in his stomach. "He can look at you in such a way that you don't know where your tongue has gone, but the hierarchy does not apply to him for some reason. He's a Brunnite but he sits next to the Hyacinthes."

"I've... met him before. I saw him in the Headmaster's office yesterday," Darren said quietly. "I've never seen a Brunnite with such dark eyes."

"Yeah, his eyes are terrible," Joel replied. "It's hard to say how dark they are because he hardly ever comes out and I'm not going to get close enough to him to find out."

Each caste has a distinctive color of hair and eyes, but there are so many different shades of them that sometimes there can be even an Emeralde, whose eyes resembles hazel ones. Their hair ranges from copper and pale orange to reddish auburn to almost auburn. The brighter their hair and emerald eyes are, the purer the blood flowing through their veins. Some of the Brunnites have eyes and hair so dark it's almost black and only the color of their skin distinguish them from the Mongrels, and some of them have mouse hair and hazel eyes. The Brunnites are the most numerous, and therefore there is the biggest amount of their shades. The Hyacinthes are the fewest, so most of them have either golden, straw, or ivory hair. The latter was the most wanted. In combination with an azure gaze, it's the unattainable ideal and the purest blood one can have. Only the White Crows are above them in the hierarchy.

From what Darren could see, there were only three Hyacinthes, six Emeraldes, and ten Brunnites at the staff table. They all sat in the same pattern, except for Master Varis. The only Brunnite between the Hyacinthes and the Emeraldes. He must have been meritorious somehow for the school that he had the right to be there.

"You won't get classes with all of them if you become a Scout, of course," Joel winked. "That muscular Emeralde woman with braid is Mistress Gordott, she's the Guardian of the Archers. A tough woman, as strong as a man. Master Mortimus only teaches the Warriors. Wait, who else...? Oh, that older Brunnite with a square jaw, the one with a scarred face, the muscular one, can you see him? He's Master Equus, and he teaches only the Warriors too. He's a war hero, he used to be a captain. He is said to have participated in the Battle of Giardanna twenty years ago when savages from beyond the Wild Hinterlands had attempted to invade Helion and he'd killed their leader. And that Brunnite with tousled hair is Master Habes. He also teaches the Warriors only. He's got one leg cut off and he's sipping from his flask all the time, although he officially says it's a painkiller for some phantom aches or something, although everyone knows what he keeps there. Well, that's probably everyone. You'll meet the rest during the classes. Oh, and there is also Mistress Serenite. She doesn't teach anything. She spends all days in her chambers and keeps some books there or accompanies the Headmaster during official meetings. Probably most of the boys at school have a crush on her. They call her The Most Beautiful Flower even though I know some much more beautiful girls, or at least not as icy as she is."

Darren looked at the woman Joel mentioned. She resembled a porcelain statue. Her skin was pale and shiny, and her face was almost too perfect to be real. It was framed by long, wavy, straw-colored hair that reached down to her hips, her wide-necked white gown shimmered at her gentle movements as if the fabric itself were embossed with diamonds, and white gold necklaces framed her long neck, but her blue eyes hidden under perfect eyebrows and long black lashes were haughty and cold.

"She's an Assassin," Joel added.

Darren looked at him in disbelief. It was hard to believe. He would never in his life have accused this beautiful woman of doing something so horrible.

"She cuts throats dressed like that?" he asked curiously. "How does she launder her dress later?"

"What?" Joel looked at him in surprise and laughed. "I've never thought of that before," he said, shaking with amusement. Darren pursed his lips. He said something stupid again. He preferred not to say anything else until the end of breakfast.

"What do you do when there are no classes?" he asked as he followed Joel out of the Central Hall. The way back between the tables was not so terrible this time, because most of the students had already left the room, and the whispers of those who'd remained were much less intense as if they'd understood after the Headmaster's speech that their indignation would not change anything.

"Whatever you want to do. I can guide you around the school and show you the training ground and everything else if you like."

Darren didn't have time to answer because he heard a high, cold voice to his left.

"Hey, you little flea ragbag! Did you get in the wrong direction? The way to the stables is another way. My horse needs a groom and someone has to clean the dung from under him. Do your job right away!"

Darren turned his head, surprised by the sudden attack, to see a Hyacinthe who was nonchalantly leaning against the wall. His pale lips were stretched in a mocking smile, and his bright blue eyes were squinted maliciously. He had bright golden hair combed up and flowed softly down his shoulders. His face was handsome and masculine at the same time but grimaced by a contemptuous expression as he regarded Darren with aristocratic superiority. Next to him there were standing two identical tall, skinny Emeraldes - with hair tied back in a ponytails - who looked like his bodyguards.

"Delemiar! Nice to see you!" Joel said, smiling at the boy, but his smile had fangs in it. "It's kind of you that you've decided to say hi, but we're in a bit of a hurry." Joel started off, but then the two Emeraldes blocked their way.

The boy pushed himself off the wall and looked at Darren with a hateful gaze that enkindled those familiar flames that the Hyacinthe had set on fire with his malicious words.

"You can pass, but he cannot. I won't let some dirty Mongrel hang around the school thinking he's one of the students. He can leave this place only by the second door, straight to his stinking brethren."

The flames exploded, and even the fact that it was a Hyacinthe didn't stop Darren's mouth, which almost spontaneously blurted out furious words. "You won't be telling me what I can and cannot do," he drawled, piercing the crystals of his eyes into the lake of blue that had been frozen almost immediately after his words.

"How dare you talk to me like that, you mutt?" the boy growled. "You're just some miserable mistake of--"

"I'm a student, and I have as much right to be here as you do," Darren replied, not letting him continue. He was shaking with anger but tried not to show it to him. He just wanted to pass. Why was that boy so ferociously forbid him to do that? Why was he so bothered that Darren was in this school?

"Don't you dare compare with me, you ragbag! You don't even deserve to lick my shoes!"

"Oh!" Joel said loudly, and at the same moment a familiar, menacing voice spoke.

"But you, Mr. Mortimus certainly deserved to lose fifteen points for the verbal insult to the other student." Master Wolverson was standing next to them, with his arms crossed, staring down at the Hyacinthe's face grimaced with fury. "And you'll lose more of them if you don't move away from Mr. Hayden right now. If I hear about your attack on him again - verbal or otherwise - losing points will be the mildest punishment you will get. I would like you to understand this well, because you are absolutely prohibited from approaching him, and breaking this ban will have serious consequences for your future career in this school."

Delemiar just snorted and turned his head angrily. "My father will find out about this!"

"Of course, I'll tell him about your disgraceful behavior myself."

The boy pursed his lips, looking at Wolverson as if he wanted to incinerate him with his gaze, though he could only reach up to his shoulder.

Finally, he turned abruptly and walked away, his black cloak with the spider embroidered on its back was billowing behind him.

"Everything's good, Darren?" Wolverson muttered as the Hyacinthe was out of sight. "Don't worry about that spoiled kid. He stalks most of the students at the school. I came to tell you that your test will begin right after lunch at the West Training Grounds."

Darren nodded. He could still feel the flames under his skin but he slowly managed to silence them. He couldn't care less about some hateful words of some stranger Hyacinthe. He was going to be tested today, and even if he knew he was going to be a Scout anyway, the vision of being subjected to some vague test of his abilities made him anxiously tense.

"Yeah," he replied softly, loosening his clenched fists and looking up at his Guardian. He was glad Wolverson would be his Guardian. He could not imagine in this role anyone else of those unfamiliar, haughty people he had seen at breakfast. Especially that one particular man...

"See you later, then," the man smiled as he pushed back the hair that fell over his face and walked away.

"I wonder how much training it takes to have shoulders as broad as his," Joel muttered when the Emeralde had disappeared up the stairs. "He could crush that blond slow worm with one hand if he wants to. Ah, I'd love to see this... Come on, let's go. He won't accost you now."

Darren nodded and followed the Brunnite.

From the outside, the school seemed even bigger than when Darren had seen it last night. Each successive story rose from the next, like stone, carved layers of a cake. High above, between the two towers, he could see a stone walkway connecting them. The area around was just as vast. The wall stretched far and disappeared among the trees. Behind the school, there were three training grounds, separated by smaller buildings and arched cloisters hidden in the shade. In the center of the back was a courtyard surrounded by a meadow, near which grew a lonely, sprawling oak. A few students were sitting on a small wall that surrounded it. The lush green grass stretched behind them, and in the distance, a wall with a narrow gate loomed. There were buildings to the left and right, followed by the training grounds. The one on the left belonged to the Warriors, and on the right to the Scouts and Assassins, on the far-left side of the school was the Archer's training ground, surrounded by a thin, unusually high wall, and on the far right, the stables and paddocks for horses.

"You have to go through this cloister to reach the central courtyard," Joel said, gesturing Darren to a high arch above which several stories rose. "There's a library above it, and a medical room on the next floor. That tower right there is an astronomical tower and the other one is a climbing tower and the one in the middle is a clock tower, there is a bell at the top that announces the beginning and end of the classes. There are a few more towers up there, but nothing interesting about them. The whole area around the school is surrounded by a high wall and we cannot go outside alone. But at the end of last year, I discovered a secret exit from the school. Maybe I'll show it to you someday," Joel said, smiling mysteriously.

Darren frowned. "At the end of the year? I thought this is the first year."

"Er... well, I'm repeating it. I didn't do very well with the previous one."

"Can you repeat a year?"

"Not completely. According to the rules, if you fail any exam on the retake date, you will be expelled, but my father paid quite a sum of money to the school, so they decided to give me a second chance and I was admitted back to the first year but if I fail now, it's over. All my brothers graduated from school with honors. All of them as the Warriors, only I became a Scout."

"How many brothers do you have?" Darren asked, sitting down on the low wall and facing the sun.

"Three, with three sisters. I am the youngest. The seventh child. The sisters are already married and the brothers are pursuing military careers. My mother's written me off a long time ago, but my father is still trying to fix me. Stubborn bastard," Joel laughed. "He runs the best vineyard in Sorrannia, the region south of here. When I was a seven-year-old I often stole wine from barrels and got drunk with it secretly," the boy grinned, as if the memories of those times were extremely pleasant for him. "Once my mother found me completely drunk asleep in the privy. Can you imagine how wild scolding I got because of that?"

No, Darren couldn't imagine it. When he was seven, he was locked up in the basement because he had killed a Hyacinthe with his cursed power. The world Joel was telling him about was so different from his world that it seemed unbelievable. The very thought that he might have a brother... or a sister... someone beside him... all the time... - the very thought was too hard for him to imagine. He has been by himself all his life. Alone. What would it be like to have... anyone?

"What are the exams?" he asked after a moment to change the subject because he didn't like what was going on in his heart.

Joel sat down beside him and frowned thoughtfully. "They are... some kind of important tests. Of course, there are also plenty of them during the school year, but these are the most important. It's mostly up to them whether or not you can get into the second year. It takes four years to study, you know that I assume? One year lasts from the beginning of September to the end of July. Then we have a month to rest. In June, during the celebration of Ballie's festival, a great competition called the Hunt is held. It's a test of our skills. The whole school goes to the Drondilian Forest, south of here, there are neither classes nor lessons, brilliant thing."

"What are we going to hunt there?" Darren asked anxiously. He didn't want to hunt any animals.

"We won't be hunting. It's the Masters who will be hunting for us." Joel smiled, winking at him. "Right after returning from the Hunt, there is a great ball. In early July, the exams begin and last for a month, followed by the Gala of the Chosen Ones. Each Master chooses his favorite and presents them with a distinction. And that's probably all. Do you have any questions?"

"Why do Assassins have a spider on their backs?"

"Because they're disgusting two-faced spiders," Joel replied jokingly. "Each Guild has its colors and its coat of arms. The Assassins have a black spider set against a silver cobweb. We have a brown squirrel hidden in the green leaves. I always wondered why it couldn't be a fox, for example. The squirrel causes neither terror nor fear, like the bear of the Warriors or the falcon of the Archers, or even that disgusting spider. But I figured that's because squirrels are small and smart and you can't see them, and that's what Scouts should be. They should approach the enemy unnoticed and not get caught. Am I right?" Darren thought it was very likely. "Spiders imperceptibly crawl under your clothes and inject poison under your skin. The perfect reflection of these treacherous whistles. Besides, Varis looks like a giant spider himself," Joel laughed. "Do you know that he supposedly eats them? Spiders I mean. To immunize against their venom. It's gross, isn't it?"

Darren felt the goosebumps on his arms. It wasn't gross. It was terrifying. Why had he suddenly imagined those thin lips parting and devouring the still moving limbs? A shudder shook him.

"When... when do we have lessons with him?" he asked softly.

"Tomorrow."

What?

Darren looked at Joel in horror.

"At the last lesson and also on Fridays at the last one," Joel explained. "Fortunately, only twice a week. It's possible to survive.

"He said I had to be prepared for his classes. Does it mean I should catch up on what had been taught at these classes for the last two weeks?"

Joel snorted. "It's all Varis. How could you learn all this in one day?"

Darren shrugged. He hasn't even gotten the textbooks yet. He hasn't even passed the test yet. And he already felt under the skin that Poisons would probably be the most horrible class of all.

"Why exactly do Scouts have to learn to make poisons? This is probably what the Assassins should be doing," he said quietly, looking at the blades of grass blown by the wind beneath his feet.

"Everyone has to learn Poisons, and so do the Warriors and the Archers. The Scouts can dip their arrowheads into them or put guards at the outposts to sleep. But we learn not only about the poisons but also about the production of useful drugs and ointments for the wounds."

Darren nodded with a soft sigh.

It seemed that no matter how much he didn't want it, he would still be confronted with this man. Although since everyone functions in this class somehow, he should also manage to do it. Somehow.

"What about the points?" he asked.

"It's some kind of internal rivalry between the Guilds. There is this large scoreboard in the Central Hall and we all collect points all year round. The guild with the most of them wins the Championship and for the next year, its pennants adorn the highest towers in the castle and the audience hall. They also have the right to represent the school during the Eight Lands Competition. See those black pennants right there?" Darren looked up at the black and silver flags waving above the tallest towers. "These cunning spiders won last year, and they keep remind us of it every step of the way."

"What are these points earned for?"

"For all kinds of things. For good answers during classes, for preparation, for commitment. But the most important thing is the grades."

"Grades?" Darren frowned.

"Yeah, grades. The Masters judge us. Our knowledge and skills. The grades are collected all year round. There are six grades of assessment. Tragic is the worst one. If you get it, you don't pass. The next one is Weak - it's better but still bad. Next is Average. Then Suitable. Then Exceptional and the best grade is Perfect. To tell the truth, I have never received it in my life. I think neither an Exceptional," Joel muttered. "I think I get Weak most often but that's enough to pass," he grinned.
Darren closed his eyes. His mind was already starting to dizzy with the flood of information. How is he going to remember it all? He was feeling like a piece of wood thrown into a pond. He was floating on the surface of so many things to remember, knowledge to assimilate, and he had the impression that he would eventually sink under their pressure.

He asked no more. He wanted to rest and focus before the test. So he went back to the bedroom, trying to ignore the stares thrown at him from every corner of the Scouts Chamber while Joel stayed downstairs with his friends and Darren heard an avalanche of questions about him fall upon the Brunnite after his disappearance.

He closed the door, cutting off the raised voices, leaned against it, and sighed deeply. He sat down on the cushioned windowsill, pulled up his legs, and stared at the window, through which he could see the distant crowns of oaks and the meadow, overlooking the school over the roofs of the castle.

He had more and more doubts as to whether he would be able to handle it. He had no education compared to all of them, he had never graduated from school before, knew nothing of grades, lessons, points, or anything else that seemed completely natural to everyone here. Well, he could hardly read and write. Even basic calculations caused him problems. His origin was emphasized here exceptionally strongly. It wasn't just his black hair and darker skin that set him apart from them all. How could he be equal to them, if here, in this place, his education has only just begun, and theirs has been lasting uninterruptedly for at least ten years? How would he catch up? He didn't know anything about this world. He thought he would learn quickly, but he slowly began to understand that no one could learn that fast.

The only thing left for him is... to survive. Joel said having Weak grades is enough to pass and Darren didn't think he was going to get any other grade and he didn't have that much money to repeat the year. He took a deep breath.

He will make it anyway. He will survive. He will be studying hard and obey all the Masters and he will become a Scout. There's no other way.