Saahira crossed the bridge from the Sanctum of the Nine Arts into the encompassing city of Odalric. The dormitory buildings were housed among more stalls, shops, and taverns than she had ever seen in her life. Crowds of people filled the cobblestone roads in search of groceries, an early supper, or their first ale of the evening. Saahira spotted more students of varying years among their number, carrying books and heavy satchels. Winged, furry, and tentacled demons hovered at the shoulders of the older students or padded near their feet.

  The air was filled with the smell of freshly baked bread, roasting meats, and alchemical spices. Saahira licked her lips as she passed a fresh fruit stand and rounded the corner of a bakery. All of her meals would have to come from the sanctum—the meager savings her family was able to scrape together was intended for emergencies only. No matter how delicious the pastries in the window looked…

  She shook her head and forced her feet to continue forward. The student residence buildings were easy to spot, even in a crowd. Outside of the throng of her peers moving toward them, they shared the same enormous spires as the sanctum itself.

  Withdrawing her acceptance papers from her pack, Saahira skimmed the page with her room information while she walked. The Idrian Block. Room nine. She’d had difficulty recalling the name, as she’d never heard the term ‘Idrian’ before. After carefully replacing the papers in her satchel, she hurried the rest of the way to the dormitories. Her mouth was beginning to water, and she’d begun to do the mental conversion of a Chivarian silver minus a small pastry.

  But the thought of a treat was easily pushed away when she entered the main square of the dormitories. The cobblestone from the city roads branched off into three pathways, flanked by tall trees covered in tiny pink flowers. Students lounged on stone benches beneath the shade, some flipping through thick tomes, others chatting with one another. A girl in a fetching pink dress with long, pointed ears lay stretched out on a blanket while a non-existent breeze played at her white hair. Her lips moved as if she were speaking, but Saahira couldn’t see anyone beside her.

  As she scanned the grounds, Saahira met the sparkling gaze of a young woman who appeared a few years her senior, standing near a sign with multiple arrows. She smiled as she approached, her lilac curls bouncing around her shoulders, and said, “Good afternoon! Are you a new student?”

  “Yes. I must really look lost,” Saahira laughed nervously.

  “We all did on our first day. Honestly, even after three years, there are many days that I still do.” She giggled. “I’m Caerulea Perrin and one of the student residence’s mentors.” Her black coat and skirt were a similar make to the uniform Saahira had seen on the woman who’d served her lunch.

  “My name is Saahira Montarac.” She glanced over the buildings, searching for nameplates or titles, but found none. “Um, my room is in the Idrian Block, but I don’t know where that is.”

  “I would be happy to guide you! That’s my job.” Caerulea wiggled her shoulders proudly and laid a hand over her chest. A golden pin in the shape of a quill rested at the end of her pointer finger. “This way, please!”

  Caerulea turned and marched down the pathway, picking the right arm of the fork when they reached it. Saahira had to take two steps to Caerulea’s one—the residence mentor was very tall. As they walked, Saahira noticed the feathers poking out on either side of Caerulea’s head. Another flügel? It was a bit of a shock to meet so many people from the farthest reaches of Faylon in one place.

  “Are you familiar with the name ‘Idrian,’ Saahira?” Caerulea asked. She looked over her shoulder and slowed her pace. Saahira had fallen a few steps behind.

  “I feel like I should be.”

  “On your first day? It’s understandable if you are not.” Caerulea had the same, noble speech patterns as Talia, but her demeanor was far more cheerful. “An Idrian is one of the six Phexnsian Blooms. They are quite rare. Each plant is a favorite of the demon classes, and when used in a summoning, will guarantee a bargain.”

  Saahira blinked. “Should I be taking notes?”

  “No, of course not!” Caerulea laughed. “This is simply a piece of history about the sanctum that I find interesting. Each dormitory building is named for a Phexnsian Bloom.”

  “Which class of demon likes the Idrian?”

  “Good question! The Eroria—the fallen—are deeply attracted to Idrians. You will learn more about them in demonology.”

  “Lillith is an Eroria, right?”

  “You must have had demonology today, then. You are correct! Excellent memory.” Caerulea nodded. She matched Saahira’s gait, then lowered her voice conspiratorially. “There is speculation that our headmaster’s pact with Lillith included an Idrian.” She tipped her head to the side, and her feathers flicked outward like a pleased dove’s wings. “None of us have had the courage to ask Lillith or Headmaster Erato if it is true.”

  Saahira’s face burned when she thought of retelling the nights she’d spent obeying the Six aloud. What transpired in a bargain between a summon and its host was probably best left unsaid. “That’s an interesting rumor,” she murmured.

  “I know! There are many more that you will surely come to learn in your time at the sanctum.”

  “Can I ask you another question, Caerulea?”

  “Of course!”

  “How many students are enrolled in the sanctum?” Between her four classes so far, Saahira had seen at least twenty different faces, but it was difficult to keep track.

  “Another great question. As of this morning, there are over ninety students enrolled in the sanctum! I believe there are thirty first years, and the remaining are split between years two through five.”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  ‘At least a dozen of you will die from your willful ignorance.’ As Saahira listened to Caerulea cheerfully chatter on, she thought on Professor Gallowood’s words and wondered how many people in Caerulea’s class had perished in their studies. Was it common practice to keep a chipper attitude despite losing peers? Did Caerulea not care?

  “This is your building!” Caerulea straightened, then ascended the four steps leading up to another opulent wooden door carved in the same fashion as the others inside the sanctum. She pointed to a silver plaque with the word “Idrian” engraved in perfect script. “On the first floor are rooms one through six, and on the second are rooms seven through twelve. You’ll find the stairway at the far end of the hall.”

  “Thank you, Caerulea.”

  “If you need any help finding a building or you have a question about the grounds, just wave me down or find another person wearing a pin like mine.” Caerulea pointed to her quill pin. “Your block’s mentor will introduce herself to you later this evening. She will be your point of contact for all concerns about your first year here at the sanctum. Did you have any other questions for me at this time?”

  “No. I think I can find my way from here.” Saahira adjusted the strap across her chest and inhaled a deep breath. Another unfamiliar door. There were so many still waiting for her. She tried not to think about it too much.

  Caerulea grabbed the handle and held the door open for her. “I am certain we will cross paths again, Saahira. Enjoy settling in!”

  Saahira nodded and stepped inside the building. The sound of a warm, crackling fire greeted her as the door closed behind her. Judging by the three sofas, the myriad cushions on the floor, and a large dining table, the wide, open hall seemed to be a common room of sorts. Chains of red ivy flourished across the walls with sanguine blooms budding on the thorned vines. A painting of two horned beings locked in an embrace resided above the fireplace, and a pair of leather implements that looked like riding crops or whips hung on either side. She mused that Lillith would look right at home against such a backdrop.

  Three older girls in silk robes lounged near the fire; two shared a sofa while one stretched out on a floor cushion. They glanced over their shoulders with the sound of the door closing and quickly took Saahira’s measure. One of them clicked her tongue and turned back to the fire. The other two wriggled their noses and did the same, seeming equally unimpressed.

  Not everyone here is like Caerulea, then.

  Another girl who looked older than Saahira sat hunched over the dining table, crowded with books as her quill scratched furious notes onto a half-filled parchment. Dark circles framed her eyes, and her white hair was unkempt. Saahira wondered what instructor had driven their student to such a frenzy on the first day of class, but she passed by quietly without interrupting the girl’s studies.

  The common room led into an expansive hallway where the vines continued high on the walls. A narrow black carpet lined the floor from one end to the other, embellished with blood-red thread that shaped intricate floral designs between silver borders. Large tapestries, poised between romantic and erotic, hung between the three doors on either side of the hallway.

  Two more girls passed Saahira in the hallway, giggling to one another without looking up. All the better—one of the more sensual artworks of a succubus and her chosen had turned her cheeks as red as the flowers on the vines.

  Saahira made it to the spiral staircase and held the cool banister as she ascended. Sections of vines branched across the floor, then crept upward to wind around the staircase’s carved spindles, following her until she reached the top. When she arrived, she was relieved to see the hallway empty. The décor matched the bottom floor’s cooridor, including new growths of vines along the walls.

  Silver plaques identical to the one identifying the building were mounted beside each door, etched with the room’s number. Saahira let her gaze slide over the remaining tapestries until she found room nine. As she dug for the key in her satchel, a tiny fear stirred in her chest that it wouldn’t work on the lock. That same, creeping insecurity she’d felt when Cyprus asked why she had come to the sanctum.

  Before her dread could grow into a panic, she retrieved her key and shoved it into the lock. It turned with a clean click, and she pushed the door open. Inside, Saahira found Nia Folayan, sitting at one of two small desks with an open book.

  Nia’s eyes slid from the book to the door when Saahira looked in, and she smiled. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”

  Saahira looked at the key in her hand, then back at Nia. “Do I have the wrong room?”

  “No.”

  Saahira licked her lips and shifted her weight from her right foot to her left. “I’m… I’m sorry you have to share a room with me.”

  Nia snickered. “Why? Do you snore?”

  Because you’re a princess? That’s what Dimitri had said, anyway. Though, after a single day of classes with him, she’d trust the word of a horse over Dimitri. “No. I’m just no one special.”

  “I know. I prefer that.”

  Saahira frowned, certain that Nia’s dress and enchanted earrings were each worth more Chivarian gold than she would see in her lifetime. But she turned her gaze to the floor and wandered to the unoccupied half of the room anyway.

  The bed was larger than hers at home, covered in the softest blankets she’d ever touched. Beside it stood a nightstand with two small drawers and an oil lamp. At the foot of her bed was a large wooden storage trunk, and then her own desk, outfitted with a fresh quill, a bottle of ink, and a stack of blank paper. No, not paper. Parchment. She rubbed a corner between her fingers and marveled at its velvety surface. She silently vowed to save it for important assignments or letters to her family.

  It took eight steps to reach the desk from the door, and she estimated another five or six steps between her and Nia’s furniture. She could have comfortably fit her whole family inside that one room.

  Saahira carefully set her new satchel on top of the bed and gave her disbelief time to settle. As her nerves calmed, she recalled what Nia had said to her in Professor Moborí’s class.

  “Wait, how did you know we would be roommates?” There hadn’t been a second name on her room assignment, Saahira was sure of it. She’d pored over each page dozens of times.

  Nia closed her book and crossed one long leg over the other. “Lemae is my cousin.” Saahira’s confusion must have been apparent on her face, because Nia quickly added, “Lemae is Idrian Block’s nanny.”

  Saahira blinked. “Nanny?”

  “Resident mentor. Guard dog. Nanny. Whatever you’d like to call it.” Nia shook her head and waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Lemae says the position is a glorified title for keeping things in line as best as she can. Anyway, she received a list of her charges two weeks ago and told me your name.”

  “Oh. I see.” Saahira turned back to her bag and pulled her notes and books free. The others would be in her trunk, as she was required to send them to the sanctum with her clothing before classes began. After a quick peek inside, she confirmed that her few meager outfits were neatly folded, and her books stacked beside them.

  “Would you like to get something to eat? Maybe introduce ourselves?” Nia asked.

  Sliding the day’s books into her trunk, Saahira chewed the inside of her cheek. As embarrassed as she was, Nia would find out eventually anyway. She swallowed what remained of her pride. “I can only afford the sanctum’s dining hall.”

  Nia hummed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Let’s make a deal, then.” She leaned forward, and a playful smile toyed at the corners of her mouth. “I’ll buy you dinner if you tell me why you chose to make friends with the son of a mass murderer.”

  Cyprus… A chill ran down Saahira’s spine. “I didn’t know.”

  “You did after spellcraft, and everyone saw you get lunch together.” Nia’s smile widened. “Come on. There must be something there.”

  Could Nia tell her more about Cyprus’s past? About his father? The questions she’d asked him were deflected away, serving only to compound her curiosity the more she’d interacted with him.

  Saahira tucked her hair behind her ears and then nodded. “Where should we go?”

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