Page 44 of Trivium

“It was you, wasn’t it?” The Encylopedia’s description came back to mind.

Can make you hear things that aren't real.

The fire. It wasn’t real. The Songbird had created a distraction for her to escape.

Yes. That’s why I said you’re welcome. The bird spoke to her telepathically, and Zeina realized the bird could also hear her thoughts. They studied each other, as it sat peacefully on her lap. And in that moment, Zeina felt something growing. A baby seed planted in dark soil under the surface. Something she had never experienced before.

Friendship.

She named the bird Aria, meaning song of the sky, a vibrant light. “I don’t know if that’s your name, but that’s what I’m calling you,” she had said, and when it didn’t respond, she took that as acceptance.

They sat together, watching the sun rise over the wall, projecting early morning shadows across the courtyard. The adrenaline from her near miss had settled, and now her body ached with exhaustion, her stomach grumbling.

She was about to head back inside to steal a bit of breakfast bread and dragon fruit when she saw a figure walking toward the castle.

Zeina knew every detail of the Academy schedule. It was very unusual for there to be anyone returning from beyond the wall at this hour.

But even from a distance, she knew who it was: Ren Elmerian.

31

AHMINA

By the following month, Ahmina felt mostly back to normal again. Although, she still wore twin punctures on her ankle from where the Viper bit her. Some version of her story made its way through the students; everyone wanted to know what happened and how she recovered. What was it like to die? Did you see the Moon Goddess? Did it hurt? How did you get the venom out? The questions were overwhelming, but she did her best to answer them. At first, she quite enjoyed the attention. But on the third day of telling the story—most of which she couldn’t even remember—she got sick of people constantly interrupting her and her studies. She needed to focus if she was ever going to catch up. Every time someone brought it up, she became more stressed. Every minute talking about the Viper was a minute she lost studying. And somehow, despite hours of extra study, she was still drowning in schoolwork.

Strategy was the only lecture she seemed to be doing okay in. Not as well as she had planned, but at least she wasn’t failing like she was all her other classes. She had zero wins in Combat, even against the most amateur, clumsy fighters. Her muscles ached from the amount of time she spent practicing and training. If it weren’t for the fact that she had become noticeably more fit and toned, her muscles growing in strength and resilience, one could assume she hadn’t practiced at all. Every day she pushed her body further, harder, and still, she was terrible. No matter how hard she pushed her body, it was never enough.

Alchemy was a disaster. She obsessed over instructions, following them perfectly, just for her potions to be lackluster. Professor Hashiluna kept telling her she had to feel it. She asked what she should be feeling exactly, but Hashiluna just said, “feel the energy of the plants” like it was the most basic, simple thing in the world.

All Ahmina felt was crippling anxiety.

She watched as everyone around her succeeded, their eyes lighting up when they got their potion just right. Rory kept saying, “it’s just because you were in the infirmary. You went through a lot, but you’ll catch up!” That reality felt farther and farther away as each day passed.

Mastery should have been her easiest lecture, considering her extensive knowledge of creatures, and yet, she studied for hours just to receive failing grades on every test. She basically lived in the library, until the pressure of it all paralyzed her and she would fall into bed in a daze. Ahmina had never felt so out of control.

On the positive side, she was so embarrassed about what had happened, she successfully avoided Lennox for weeks. It was the one thing she felt like she could control. No matter how hard she worked, she was failing. But steering clear of Lennox? That she could do. Easy.

As she and Rory took their seats in the third row of the Skyward Amphitheatre for Strategy, she knew what was coming.

“Spit it out,” she said to Rory, annoyed.

“You can’t avoid him forever, you know. He keeps asking me about you.” Rory sighed, her shoulders slumping. “The only reason you’re still alive is because of that fool.” Rory tossed her hands onto her head. “And I know it sounds crazy, and trust me it was absolutely disgusting, like really gross, but… he had to get his mouth treated for venom burns. Venom burns! You know how insane that is, right? He refused to stay in the infirmary so they sent him off with his medication, but he couldn’t talk for an entire week, which was actually kind of nice if I’m being honest but…” She smiled tentatively at Ahmina, who sat drowning in the truth she so badly wanted to forget.

Professor Kaplana started her lecture, unpacking unique and challenging situations in which Clevers were forced to decide the fate of their entire squad. But for the first time, Ahmina wasn’t listening. She hadn’t been avoiding Lennox, she realized. She had been avoiding the shame that consumed her. Having to be saved like that when she was already performing so terribly was embarrassing. She had been at the Academy all of what? Two months? And already she almost died. Worst of all, it was Lennox who had to save her.

She would never be like Rory or the other recruits who were natural warriors. She knew she was softer, more sensitive. But that didn’t mean she was weak. And she hated the idea of appearing so.

Rory was right, she couldn’t avoid Lennox forever. But she was going to for as long as humanly possible.

32

ZEINA

There was an old Jarrian phrase for it—the time between night and sunrise, just before the promise of daylight. No modern words could explain its meaning with such elegance, and it bothered her that she couldn’t remember it.

Although the night still hung over the world, blanketing it in quiet nothingness, she could see in front of her as if there were light.

Her bare feet hit the stone pathway in a cool, soft rhythm. She snuck along its ridges until she stood in front of the same ladder she climbed every morning, the one that lifted her up above the wall to the Hydra perch.