Page 4 of Trivium

Along the way, her mind wandered to Park and the perfectly trimmed hair he had worn in tight natural curls these past few years. He had these mischievous hazel eyes that would light up when he laughed at her jokes, even when they weren’t that funny. She missed the long talks they had about everything and nothing all at once. As childhood friends, they had spent their days running up and down these same rust-colored clay streets barefoot, hurling fruit at each other and angering their parents. You’re children of noblemen; start acting like it. That had always been their parents’ refrain. But they didn’t care.

It had been so long that she could no longer remember exactly how they had become friends. But it didn’t matter. At some point, an unspoken pact was written into time.

After Park disappeared, grief embedded into her chest, making a grave there, relentlessly haunting her like a melancholy ancestor. Her only reprieve was sleep, and even then, she would often dream of him. His memory followed her everywhere she went.

Catching her reflection in a shop window as she passed, Loveleena sighed. Her dark wavy hair was messy, sticking to her bronze neck from humidity and sweat. Her pale green eyes had gone glassy.

She was certain her mother would scold her for her appearance—and for being out so long. Since Park’s disappearance, her mother had become paranoid. Although she never said it out loud, they both knew she was afraid Loveleena would disappear, just like Park. If the son of a nobleman, someone as well known and revered as a Kem could disappear, so could an Alva.

There were rumors that a creature had gotten through the wall and taken him. Some said it was a serpent, undetectable under the night sky. Others claimed Firebringers, Soul Snatchers, or preying birds. Everyone had a different story they swore was true. She refused to believe the tales. In her mind, Park was still alive.

With him gone and the Defender presence heightened, her future felt like this giant ominous fate that loomed closer each passing birthday. Keeping their tully tradition going was something within her control. Something she could do for Park. Celebrating her birthday without him made her want to rip her entire life to shreds and light it on fire. The tully helped keep her grounded, keep her sane. It gave her something specific to focus on so she didn’t lose herself in all of it.

Her neighbourhood was quiet, and she slipped through the gate with a friendly smile toward the guard, rounding the corner onto her lane. She was so lost in her own mind that she collided with something large, its shadowed body and face a blur. Her back took the majority of the hit as she toppled to the ground.

She groaned. “What in the Moon Goddess’s name?” She pushed herself up onto her elbows, tiny rocks digging into her palms as she rocked forward and rose to her feet.

Turning slowly, she expected to see the cause of her fall, but the street was empty. She had definitely run into something, something large and living.

There was no way it could have vanished so quickly.

Confused, she peered around the corner, but the path she had come down was just as deserted, peacefully framed by the grandeur of noble family homes.

The tully.

Panicking, she spotted its contents sprawled onto the cobblestone street. “No, no, no!” she cried. She swept it up with hands, frantically pushing it back into its satchel and clutching it to her chest. A little dirt won’t hurt, she told herself as she held back tears, a memories of Park filled her mind.

This birthday will be the best one yet, Park said as their legs dangled in unison off the marble island in the servant’s kitchen.

He said that every year.

They would watch Gina, her family’s cook, mix their precious pouch of tully into the pot with fresh onions, garlic, tomatoes and herbs. Afterward, full of laughter and tully, they’d sneak off on some nighttime adventure.

In the absence of these moments, the whole day had felt still and quiet. She had been pushing the memory away, but here, alone on the street, she broke open, just like the tully. As the crack in her heart spread, she couldn’t contain what she had held back all day, and her eyes welled with tears as she hurried up her walkway.

She paused at her front door, blinking to push her sorrow back down. This was exactly why she avoided replaying memories of them together in her mind. Every time she did, grief, despair, and anger ripped through her so strongly it felt like it would tear her skin open. So much so that the tears poured out of her, and she hated to cry, especially around other people.

Taking a deep breath, she swung open the door, anticipating her family's critical remarks on her tardiness.

“Before you say anything I⁠—”

Her words were swallowed up as she was grabbed from behind, one hand around her torso, the other covering her head in cloth.

Everything went dark.

3

AHMINA

Ahmina Ori had worked her whole life to make it into the Academy of Creature Defense. But now that she had her acceptance letter in hand and was less than a day away from attending, she felt… terrified.

She looked down at the crisp paper stamped with the Academy’s official seal for the hundredth time, her hands shaking, making the handwriting difficult to read. She shoved the letter back into her pocket.

Being top of her class, receiving an invite was likely. But she still wept when she held her letter for the first time. All the additional study hours and projects for extra credit she endured, plus the two years in Academy Prep College to help her get noticed, had finally paid off. It was everything she had been praying to the Moon Goddess for.

And now that it was here, all she wanted to do was pretend it didn’t exist.

It was difficult to get into the Academy of Creature Defense. The school received thousands of applications every year and only accepted less than a hundred carefully chosen recruits. Even with perfect grades, extra credit, and Academy Prep, there was no guarantee of acceptance.