Pride: the most envied dormitory on campus, perhaps even the most envied in the world.
Sitting on her queen-sized bed, staring at the big-screen television, Nocte could hardly believe that she was, once again, a Pride resident. She heard Pyralis stumble out of their walk-in closet, her hair a little unruly, and she smiled at the alchemist. Perhaps what was even more disbelieving was that Pyralis was her roommate this year.
Maybe things were looking up?
“Do you want the right or the left side of the closet?” Pyralis asked.
Nocte shrugged, quiet. “Whichever is left.”
“Left it is,” Pyralis said, walking into the bathroom.
No one was surprised to see the large hot tub.
“I’m surprised we’re not on the seventeenth floor,” Nocte commented as she lifted herself from the bed for the bay window.
“Hmm,” Pyralis hummed, not liking their floor either.
The fifth floor was much too close to the ground for any of their liking.
“V4,” Nocte murmured, watching the people struggle with their luggage below. “Wŏ sĭ.”
Pyralis picked up the patch-worked bag from the foot of her bed and began to unpack. She didn’t have much. Being the Lady Alchemist and the Lady Necromancer were only titles, no money or land. It was only fortunate that Měi Fèng had given an estate to Nocte, perhaps more than just luck. With Nocte being a Yin (or a disowned Yin), Nocte had a lot more connections than Aman, Pyralis and Corliss combined.She didn’t whether she should feel used or not, but as empress, Měi Fèng needed to choose her allies carefully.
As it was, when Witley showed up with Nocte’s two suitcases, Nocte felt embarrassed seeing her luggage next to Pyralis’ old, cloth bags. At least Pyralis’ alchemy bag was new – a gift from Měi Fèng during the empress’ coronation.
Hopefully things would get better for Pyralis.
But what did the future hold for Pyralis? For Aman? Corliss?
Certainly not the same things as Nocte.
“Thank you, Witley,” she thanked as the spy lowered the suitcases. “I can manage now.”
“Then I will be off,” Witley conceded. “Farewell, mistress. Farewell, Lady Alchemist.”
Both Nocte and Pyralis (who still wasn’t used to being called the “Lady Alchemist”) nodded as Witley bowed and dismissed herself. Nocte knew how to contact her if the times called for it; her cell phone was in one of the suitcases.
“How is your estate?” Pyralis enquired after Witley left. She was unravelling her clothes for the closet, all of them wrinkled and creased.
“Good,” Nocte answered, and said no more. She didn’t want to seem like she was bragging when it was obvious as to who had more money. Sheflushed, ashamed.
Pyralis frowned and stood, leaving her clothes to lie feebly on her bed. Not meeting Nocte’s eyes, the alchemist had to ask. “Nocte.”
Nocte tensed, stopping half-way in unzipping a suitcase. Did Pyralis know that she was feeling guilty for being richer? “Y-Yes?”
Pyralis didn’t know where to begin. Instead, she unbound her hair and finger-combed the stray strands back into place. As she was retying a new side ponytail, she spoke, looking out the window, “Do you see…”
“The sky?” Nocte enquired, hoping to turn Pyralis away from her embarrassment.
Pyralis felt a tick form on her left brow. “That’s not what I wanted to say.”
“Oh,” Nocte mumbled.
Calming, Pyralis tried again. “Nocte… Do you see yourself at Laurel Tree for the rest of your life?”
Startled, Nocte had not expected the question. She had expected an accusation, perhaps of Pyralis saying she didn’t need her pity, but it turned out to be Laurel Tree? And what was she implying? That Laurel Tree wasn’t worth Nocte’s time and energy?
She managed to keep the anger from her voice when she asked, “What do you mean?”
Pyralis turned to meet her eyes gravely. “What do you see in your future?”
“The estate, of course,” Nocte answered, not missing a beat. It was peculiar question.
Truthfully, what else could she hope for?
Pyralis bit her lips together unhappily. Had she said something wrong?
“Why?” Nocte enquired. “What were you expecting?”
The alchemist sighed harshly. “I don’t know. Something… more.”
“More?” Nocte was confused. Did no one understand that the estate was Nocte’s future? That she could picture a steady, content life among the rice fields? “Well, what do you see in your future?”
“A doctorate degree in alchemy and a double-major in chemistry and biology,” Pyralis answered easily, as if she had already done it. Actually, it wouldn’t surprise Nocte one bit if Pyralis had already finished her majors.
But it was still a surprising answer.
“Wouldn’t that be hard?” Nocte didn’t just mean academically, but also financially.
Pyralis seemed to understand. “I’ve spoken with Professor Ranae.” Ranae was the supervisor of the Alchemy Department and well known for his break-through discoveries. “He offered a research position for me. If I work beside him I can obtain, not only my doctorate, but experience and financial aid for my education.”
“Wow,” Nocte gasped, feeling a rush of excitement at the possibility. “You can do it, Pyralis. I believe in you!”
Even Pyralis couldn’t help but smile as she nodded. “And you?”
Her? What did Pyralis mean?
“Well,” Nocte said. “I’m aiming for a Necromancy major.”
“And then?” Pyralis hinted.
“And then-” Nocte stumbled. And then what? Laurel Tree, of course. But saying it out loud would sound so… bland compared to Pyralis’ crazy Alchemy doctorate. “And then Laurel Tree.”
Pyralis nodded mutely.
Nocte could tell she wanted to say something, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. Instead, Nocte asked, “What are you going to do with an Alchemy doctorate?”
“Research,” Pyralis answered, almost absentmindedly as her eyes turned inwards in deep contemplation. What could she possibly be thinking about if not Alchemy? “Perhaps help the empire develop new potions of some sort.”
“Of course,” Nocte thought in awe.
The title of “Lady Alchemist” was not as empty as Nocte had thought. Perhaps no money or land, but there was plenty of reputation to go around. As the Lady Alchemist, Pyralis could get into high positions within the alchemy field, developing new cures or (more likely for Pyralis) poisons and acids. She could go even further to secure herself a position on the Alchemy Board or something as grandiose and high paying.
Suddenly, Nocte felt inferior to Pyralis. Although not rich with money, Pyralis was rich with dreams.
“Nocte,” Pyralis said, serious and expectant. “There is more to life than the present. Or the past.”
Nocte breathed in sharp. The past, meaning to not dwell in it, but Nocte didn’t want to hear it.
“What about the others?” She changed the topic. “What do they plan to do?”
“That,” Pyralis said, respectful, “you have to ask them.”
Which meant that Pyralis knew. Which meant everyone knew what everyone else wanted except Nocte. What had they been doing while Nocte was tilling fields and digging irrigation systems?
“They’ve been moving on.”
“What?” Nocte asked, startled.
“I said you’d have to ask the others themselves,” Pyralis repeated, turning back to her clothes.
“No,” Nocte said, frowning quizzically. “After that.”
Pyralis frowned. “Nothing.”
“Oh…” Nocte trailed, perplexed.
Pyralis didn’t know how to read her expression, but knew that she couldn’t leave her friend dwelling with her thoughts for too long. “We should finish unpacking before the dinner.”
“Right…” Nocte replied absentmindedly.
Nocte went back to her suitcase and finished unzipping it, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She hadn’t been hearing things. She knew someone had said, “They’ve been moving on,” but she also knew it wasn’t Pyralis.
It had been his voice.
Nocte stiffened and slowly turned her head to survey the room.
No one.
No one behind her either.
But it had to be him – one blue eye and one green eye.
But it couldn’t have been him. She had told him to leave her alone. After half a year, he couldn’t possibly think to show himself now, of all the times.
But then, who else could it be?
#
The dinner was held at Chaos, six o’clock– sharp. It was all decorated in black and silver. Black cloth over round tables, black drapes over windows and black rose centerpieces baring fearsome black thorns. Silver chandeliers, silver candles and silver dining ware.
Very dark and sophisticated.
Dressed in blue jeans and a green sweater over a red top, Nocte certainly stood out among her fellow peers, all wearing pressed black suits and black cocktail dresses. Noir, of course, didn’t let the chance slip by.
“Necromancer,” he chuckled. “You never cease to make a spectacle.”
And a spectacle she was, for everyone was looking at her. Lord Bloodstone even had the audacity to raise his glass of wine to her, in mock-salute for her courage to under dress. Paine, of course, didn’t seem to notice her state of dress at all. He was used to her eccentric surprises.
As for Pyralis, wearing her usual gothic black miniskirt and leather boots, she merely ignored the stares. After fourteen years at Evil Academy, the students knew by now that Pyralis would never conform to the dress code. (She never wore her uniform and the professors allowed it, seeing as she was an alchemy prodigy.)
“Well, the letter never said formal wear,” Nocte defended weakly.
Noir only grinned wider. “Anyone with common sense would know it’d be a formal dinner.”
Nocte flushed when she saw Savvy Deadwood lift her black scarf to her mouth, giggling.
“Let’s find our seats,” Pyralis said, disregarding Noir altogether.
Nocte nodded as they stepped farther into the room.
“Look at them,” someone whispered.
Nocte stared straight ahead, pretending to not have heard.
“Of course they wouldn’t dress accordingly,” another sneered.
“They are the Lady Necromancer and the Lady Alchemist,” another gossiped. “They can dress however they want.”
“That’s not fair,” a girl snared.
Nocte fought off a smile as she searched the tables for her nameplate, all organized in alphabetic order. By not conforming, Nocte and Pyralis appeared strong, able to stretch the rules to fit their mood. She wondered what they’d think if they knew that she hadn’t known about the dress code at all.
Sighing inwardly, she found her seat and did not hesitate to sit, only to find a black folder already on the chair, stamped with her name in silver ink. Looking about, she saw that there were black folders on the other chairs as well, and so she concluded that it was normal. Lifting the folder from her chair, she took her seat just as Headmaster Hessonite, Deputy Headmaster Shikyo and the academy’s staff arrived. In quick succession, all the fourteenth year students made for their seats, none hesitating to take up the folders.
Once everyone was settled, Headmaster Hessonite stood from the head table and cleared his throat. From Nocte’s point-of-view, the old headmaster had not changed one bit. Still old and feeble and always coughing, he seemed to Nocte a man way past the age of retirement, but assumed he enjoyed his job (if one could even enjoy taking care of evil ankle biters).
“Welcome, graduating students.” His voice was weak and Nocte had trouble hearing him as he began to cough. No one was perturbed; coughing was like a second language for the headmaster. “I have the honour to announce-” cough, “the details of the-” cough, cough, “Final Project to you.”
And then the headmaster broke into a fit of coughs.
Immediately, the tension thickened as all the students leaned forward in anticipation. The Final Project was prestigious and unique only to Evil Academy. Usually, it was the performance of the Final Project that determined the worth of the student, even if he or she did poorly in his or her classes. It was the first thing employers looked at when hiring straight from Evil Academy. For many, the Final Project was life or death.
But what? What was the Final Project? It had always been a carefully kept secret.
When it was clear to everyone that the headmaster’s coughing fit wasn’t going to end any time soon, Deputy Headmaster Shikyo stood and helped Headmaster Hessonite back to his seat. Hayai Shikyo, the famed Deputy Headmaster of Evil Academy, had not changed since the year Nocte had been absent.His black hair was still in that braid down his back. His eyes were still that icy blue. His ears still dangled that black crystal and that silver hoop. He appeared just as cold as the first day Nocte had seen him descend from his dragon all those years ago.
Standing imposingly above the student body, Shikyo began to speak, his voice still as cold and piercing as Nocte remembered. “All senior students must complete a Final Project in order to graduate. The task is the same each year, but you must all promise that what I am going to tell you will never leave this room.”
Everyone was quiet and Nocte felt a chill.
Magic was in the air.
If Nocte promised not to tell, she would be magically bound.
“I promise,” Lord Necrosis Paine did not hesitate to say.
“Promise,” Lord Bloodstone followed, not wanting to be beat. Since he and his sister were a year younger than the other seniors, many had eyed them sceptically, but it was not strange to see a Villain Powerhouse graduate early.
As the room rang with monotonous “I promise’s”, Nocte realized that it was now or never. She could easily step out the room and let it all go. She wouldn’t have to be an Evil Academy graduate. She wouldn’t have to think of the future.
What was wrong with living at Laurel Tree forever?
“I promise,” Pyralis joined the swarm.
Soon, those sitting at the same table as Nocte looked over to her, waiting.
“Do not be afraid.”
Nocte tensed.
Afraid? A Yin?
Never.
“I promise,” she said, feeling trepidation bubble inside her.
Shikyo nodded when he heard the last “I promise”, and said, “Very well.”
Nocte reached forward to play with the centerpiece, much to the annoyance of her tablemates, but she really needed a distraction.
Why was she hearing his voice now?
“The Final Project’s objective,” Shikyo said, “is for each student to conquer another planet.”
Shocked, Nocte drew back from the roses and pricked her thumb on the thorns. Looking up, she met Blackthorn’s eyes, darkening at the smell of her blood. Although it had been three years since Princess Vanessa had tasted her blood, it would seem that the living vampire had not forgotten… and neither had Nocte.
Licking the blood from her wound, Nocte turned back to the deputy headmaster, feeling betrayed at the development.
The academy wanted her to take over another planet???
“By ‘conquer,’” Shikyo amended, “I mean that each student must reach the quota given to them. You have each been given a folder. The details are inside.”
In an instant, hundreds of folders opened, including Nocte’s. Her hands were shaking as her eyes took in letters and numbers, but not reading – not registering.
Why? Why had she promised?
Why must she do this?
“There is an obstacle each student must overcome,” Shikyo continued, as if he hadn’t been interrupted by numerous shuffling papers. “The Final Project is a joint venture with Hero Academy.” Everyone became still – very still. “Each student from Evil Academy will be paired, randomly, with a student from Hero Academy. The goal of this is to create a scenario in which both the villain-in-the-making and the hero-in-training will be tested.
“The villain is required to meet his or her quota while the hero is to stop the villain from reaching said quota.”
Nocte’s grip on her folder tightened. “No… please. Don’t let it be him.”
“The identity of your counterpart is a secret,” Shikyo said. Many had begun to look through their folders to see who they’d been matched with. “You may not even meet your hero at all. It is quite common for both villain and hero to be acting in the shadows during the Final Project.”
Nocte felt nervous. She actually felt nervous!
“The Friday of the first week of classes,” Shikyo informed, “you will be given a chance to visit the planet you have been assigned. Your mission, for twenty-four hours, is to merely get used to the environment of your planet. During that time, you may begin to think of a plan to reach your quota, but you may not begin to act upon your plan. It will be merely a scouting mission. Nothing more and nothing less.”
Many nodded in comprehension as others began to plot. They all seemed eager to start. Even Pyralis seemed keen for the challenge.
And that was where Nocte and Pyralis differed.And there was no doubt in Nocte’s mind that both Aman and Corliss were being briefed on the Final Project right now at Hero Academy, and they were probably just as anxious to start as Pyralis.
Nocte didn’t want to start anything.
She only wanted peace.
She wanted sleep.
“Good luck, students of Evil Academy,” the deputy headmaster said. “If you have any questions, feel free to ask your professors or counsellors. Now, we will commence with dining.”
Servants streamed in from the door, balancing plates and bowls, but no one noticed them as a soft drone began to fill the air. Everyone was talking, plotting and anticipating.
And then there was Nocte.
She was not talking, plotting or anticipating.
She was silent, blank and dreading.
“Lady Necromancer,” a boy at her table called.
She snapped from her thoughts. She noticed that her peers were watching her expectantly, almost reverently. “Yes?”
A girl, very curiously asked, “What is the name of your planet, milady?”
Absentminded, Nocte opened her folder and her eyes landed on the bolded name.
“Earth.”