The dissonant sound escapes from the flute and strikes the girl's ears for the third time. Nia inflates her blue cheeks like a balloon and makes a grunt.

  “You don't look well.” She says.

  White flakes slowly replace green grass. I sit on the snow, wrapped in one of the sturdiest uniforms, as I watch the landscape change. Nia sits on a rock and continues her speech about my health, but like most of what she says, I don't really listen.

  “Sorry, I didn't sleep well yesterday.” I say.

  “Why?”

  “I spent the night in the library. Oh, and I talked to your brother. He must no longer act strange, as you told me.”

  “Oh, really?! Sounds good! What did you talk about?”

  Destiny, death, blood, massacre.

  “Man thing. I'm sorry, but you'll stay between us.”

  I trained Wander so he could modify the properties of his aura, but we also talked about what I can and can't do with hemomancy: applications I listed, the spells I should train, and even a bit of how to move blood without bursting my veins in the process. We kept all this in theory, since avoiding the priest's surveillance system is complicated, but now I know what I should do.

  She crosses her arms and frowns. “Hmpf. If it's not my problem, then take the flute and start again. Hit the Note This time!”

  “Huh…”

  Nia tried to find something for me to occupy my mind. Previously, I would train Magic, do exercises or some martial art, but I can't push myself all the time. She proposed crafts to me, and I learned that I'm horrible at shaping clay pots. It's the music's turn, and she chose to teach me something harmonic so that it would be contrary to my natural tendencies. The idea is good, but it didn't work.

  “I don't know if that works for me, Nia.”

  “Huh? Why?”

  “If it was to do something like that, I think it would be better some kind of drums or something more agitated. Hoffstein tried to make me draw. Maybe it's better?”

  Nia inspires. “Ah, well… Maybe it's better, then.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “All right.” She smiles. “You want me to-”

  The sound of the bell echoes.

  “Oh, we have to go back!” Nia says.

  I get up. “Are you going to participate too?”

  “No, but everything goes wrong around you, and I want the protection of order if it happens again.”

  I laugh. “Fair.”

  And we went as said, approaching the Temple next to the Academy. The structure is smaller, but still more detailed than the main construction. Tall towers and great arches, white as ivory, surround the gilded cathedral. Statues covered by wings serve as supporting columns, lowering themselves in respect to the threefold Flame at the central top of the temple.

  We walk up the blue carpet and, arriving at the entrance, kneel before the symbol of the flame that stretches behind the priest. Stained-glass windows on the sides color white, telling the story of Creation, Fall and Flood, from left to right. Stone benches line several floors like in an opera, but empty. Due to the nature of Solace, I imagine they would never be. One or the other acolyte and student sits, some in deep prayer, others lost in thought as they wait for the ceremony to continue. Most of those who would take part in the journey to the islands to deepen the power of metamagic have already left, and we will be the last to take the oath. Although I do not intend to go to them, I will not pass up the opportunity to observe what humanity has sent as its Champions. I won't use magic to identify anyone out of respect, but I know they're not happy to see me here either. I wonder what kind of orders they follow.

  The front seats are reserved for them, strange beings and special individuals wearing cloaks to cover themselves. Since they are on the left, my team sits on the right. Cloud makes a point of crossing his arms while waiting for the ceremony, and probably just doesn't do the same with his legs because a priest insisted that he show respect. Away from him, Wander shakes one leg as he waits for the ceremony to begin, alternating his gaze between his hands and The Flame statue. Nia accompanies me and sits next to her brother to stroke him, I sit next to the Tramp and greet him with a nod.

  Magnus leaves a room on the side and goes to the altar, doing the initial procedures, proclaiming the dogmas and reading sacred texts. He explains them while I resist indulging in boredom until the priest commands us to get up.

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  “The islands of Solace unite the earthly plane and the psychic.” He says, coming down from the altar as his helpers bring some utensils. “Because of this natural danger, Solace has appropriated the land to offer assistance to those who want to face the dangers of their mind to achieve Metamagic. All those who find the island have the thirst for evolution, but sometimes it can take years to truly find them, or get lost in the madness within themselves. Our Help provides additional knowledge, insight, training, and protection, in exchange for an oath of loyalty that prohibits you from turning against our institution.”

  Magnus points to one of the participants on the bench to the left, who removes his cloak to reveal an elf with green color and brown hair, with the texture of a leaf. He moves a syrup under the simple clothes with animal symbols, and nimbly kneels before the command of the priest.

  “This symbolic oath is confirmation of your actions, and to break it means to break away from the threefold flame. Do you, Grielnas of Elari, accept the weight of this choice?”

  The elf is silent for a moment. “I accept.” He says. Magnus pours water over his head, which then rises and returns to its place. The next one who does the rite and confirmation is Edward, a blond teenager in solace's standard uniform who wears round, bottomed glasses. Then a chubby half-goat beastman, wearing a white Sorcerer's robe and keeping a grimoire behind his back. His name is Joseph, which makes me think he had some kind of human contact rather than growing up with Beasties. It would explain your etiquette.

  Next, A masked man wearing light clothes of black cloth named Elias confirms the oath, and finally, a humanoid lizard named Kylashii. The latter is covered from head to toe with yellow wool, except for the right arm, mechanical and composed of steel.

  I can see your mana settings as clearly as day. Grielnas is a shapeshifting Druid, Edward constructs with aura, Elias is a master of umbrakinesis, and Kylashii has power over magnetism. I could not verify what Joseph—The goat—does, because he manages to hide from me. Verifying those already on the islands is impossible, and many of the students who are still thinking about which way to go don't matter enough.

  We are called, and we go one by one to receive the signs and confirmations. I feel the stares weigh on my back. Morgana hadn't lied—Of course she hadn't—when she said we were just going to another prison, but at least this one is much prettier than a decrepit village and less crazy than fairyland.

  The ceremony closes, and the newcomers are guided to their rooms in Solace. Our team talks about the classes that will start soon and that technically none of them need to attend them. They will do it anyway, because even a bum like Cloud would not let the opportunity for something free pass. They go away with time, but I don't. I face the snow. Nia implies, saying that I'm running away from her classes, and to be honest, I really am. But something more important calls me, so we parted. I feel the rhythmic tremor of footsteps come towards me, and then the figure in the darkness takes the form of the Hero.

  “Sieghart, we need to talk.”

  ***

  The tower pierces the heavens and seems to support it like a pillar. White and pristine, it was protected from corruption even if covered by Moss. I climb the steps of the staircase in silence next to Hoffstein, observing the engraved symbols on each floor and the constellations on the stone gates. The entrance opens before our steps, its interior is illuminated by purple torches, and the floor is dark as night.

  In the center, a blue sphere is connected to various iron structures that channel aura. Observing the sphere, in silence, a hunchbacked man and covered by a white robe.

  “What is this place?” I say, seeing my breath because of the unnatural cold.

  “This is the Tower Of Stars, and the hunchback man is the Oracle.”

  “Why are we here?”

  “I think it's time for you to worry about things as an adult. All right, here's the reason I've stayed on Solace so far: checking out the stars. If all goes well, just like the other days, I will prepare my journey and intercept Praelior. If not, we have to figure out another strategy to defeat the Demiurge.”

  I stare at the inside of the room and inhale, then approach the sphere. The doors close behind me, and the Oracle turns to face me. His skin is wrinkled and Gray, his eyes dead and empty, with purple pupils. Golden tattoos cover him from behind the robe, and he walks around the sphere while enchanting spells with signs. “And you are… him.”

  “I am Sieghart.”

  “Yes. Indeed. This Is your name now.”

  “You know my old name?”

  He is silent for a moment. “No. You gave up having a human name because you never had one. Tortured in the cell, you were nobody until you merged with the flesh of the possessed and The Lion.”

  “He's Sieghart now.” Hoffstein says. “But that's not what we're here for. Show us the stars, Oracle, that we may know whether the Blood Moon continues its course.”

  The old man laughed. “Right, right.” He says, then opened his arms. “Show us!”

  The blue sphere became transparent. So, black, filled with a kind of sea of tar, goo, and smoky. “This, boy, is the empty sea, free from planetary interference.” The Oracle says, then moves his hands and shows the constellations and stars—points in the sky that I could see and read with a skill I do not understand.

  “The route is, as always, on your common route-” he stops. “Common…?”

  Hoffstein narrows his gaze. “What is it? They are… getting slower?”

  “I-that's not right. Well, the sky can't slow down all of a sudden, can it? Who could…?”

  “… The Lion.” I say.

  “He should be contained!” The Oracle answers. “It shouldn't be able to affect the material world that much! Why?!”

  Hoffstein scratches his chin. “Maybe he's already united with the Warrior.”

  “Who?”

  “King, priest and warrior. Those are the three parts. Daemon is the Warrior, The Lion is the priest, and you have the function of King, because it would be through you that he would rule the world. The Warrior, in this sense, is the monstrosity of his army manifested. A body formed to send its monsters into the world. None of them could affect the stars in this way, but in case he has already incarnated… He may have influence enough upon this world to do such a thing.”

  “It would be too weak a form!” The Oracle said. “That is, physically… Without his army, Daemon is just a powerless anchor. I don't think he's been able to summon the entire underworld yet, is he? No. No. How is he-”

  “He can now. Simple as that.” I say. “We underestimate what he can do. It's stronger than what we were expecting, just as my power growth. He couldn't locate us through the fae realm to Solace, so he changed his strategy. But what is the reason for this? Delaying the Blood Moon only leaves me with more time.”

  Hoffstein folded his arms. “Maybe… Maybe-”

  A man opens the doors. The plump priest exhales and swallows dry, then stares at us. “W-we…”

  He inspires.

  “Hoffstein! We have detected on the islands two other Chaos users!”