Our nation of Ellinoris was an assemble of two strata of people: mages (those who could use magic) and mortals (those who couldn’t). To maintain harmony and avoid a clear misuse of power, a governing body known as the Ellinorean Council would lay down laws for all in the form of a constitution. Magic was their domain, dabbling in it automatically placed one under their scrutiny, be it a mortal, a mage, or the local police.

If anyone could punish Jeriff and Nicholson, it was them.

A sigh escaped my lips. Currently, I was crouched-down at our garage, helping my father clean up the cobwebs.

No, he wasn’t particularly mad at me anymore, but we weren’t on talking terms either. Often, I’d steal a glance at him and find him working with his jaws stiffened, and he’d especially clench it further upon catching me staring at him as if trying to emphasise that he was, in fact, angry at me. To any other person, this might have seemed comical but to me? Oh, I was walking on eggshells.

Mother’s words never left my mind. I couldn’t help but wonder who was sending death threats to him. Death threats. It sounded so…unreal. Were we running away?

The thought made me freeze momentarily. It didn’t settle well, the idea of fleeing from someone. No wonder they weren’t telling Lisa.

I wanted to ask whether father had considered telling the Council about this matter but somehow, this thought didn’t settle well either. If he had, the Council would have done something to save them from their deaths, and if he hadn’t, why not?

"The most you can do is befriend Nate," Selene said. "Easy enough. Save him from drowning, get close to his family, then direct them to your house before the duo shows up. Connections do wonders, lassie."

I bobbed my head into a nod, still unsure of it. Perhaps, I should try striking a conversation after all?

I swallowed. What would be the most comfortable thing to discuss with an angry father? "Um, p-papa," I stuttered, stealing a glance at him nervously.

He was busy lifting piles of rusty tins from a corner. He didn’t respond though. Bad sign.

I tried again, louder this time, "Papa, I was…wondering…" Wondering what? "…the test scores…" Oh no stupid, not that. "…th-the schools! Can I appear for the exams next year?"

I stared at the floor incredulously. You buffoon. What are you really trying to tell him here?

An uncanny silence followed, sending a shudder down the small of my back. My movements grew stiff like the planks of wood. I ended up cleaning the cobwebs without a response.

"Your mother and I looked for a place to get you enrolled," he finally said, surprising me so much that I nearly risked a muscle pull as my head snapped over my shoulder. "Enroll?"

"One school is willing to accept you, and that too because of your decent tenth-grade scores. Dress up well and we’ll head there in two days."

And with that, he stood up, the tin cans stacked up in his arms, eyes focussed on the cans. Without a glance, he sauntered out of the garage, and only when the door closed softly did I realise I had been holding my breath all this time.

༻❁༺    

As far as I could remember, Nathan Gilbert had died in his school on 16th of November, near a pool within the academy premises. If I had to save him, I had to be there during the time of his death. In other words, I had to be in his school, studying.

And then there was father, trying to get me enrolled elsewhere.

"Ugh, Selene!" I groaned and dropped my face on my pillow. Why was this happening to me? How would I ever find out which school he was in? I had zero friends here and whoever else knew me had more interest in textbooks than social life. They wouldn’t know a thing!

I opened an eye and looked to my right. The window where she’d hover around was empty.

At the moment, I lay on my stomach, snuggled under a few white covers. The hands of my wall clock pointed at half-past five. My peach pink walls stood out against the backdrop of the dark sky, warm and bright under the light of my glowing lamp. Not a soul lingered outside, as usual.

Who knows where she had disappeared to again? Rearranging the entire house had taken its toll on me; I didn’t have enough energy to call out and pester her today.

I turned to my side. On my pillow sat a diary that I had never once used until tonight. Diaries were the worst places to keep your secrets. Whatever words I had scribbled there were there in the first place because I was planning to burn them later.

I had compiled whatever I had gathered about time over the last few days, hoping that I had guessed the rules correctly. My eyes squinted as I skimmed through my observations again:

1. Do not reveal the future. You will most likely meet your death.

2. You can tweak rule one. If you can’t tell the future, you still can lie to get your work done.

3. Fate does not yield that easily. You’re likely to end up with the same result in a different way.

Reading the last sentence sent unease crawling under my skin. I took my pen and crossed the words off. Flipping my page to a fresh one, I began to scribble down my immediate goals. Right now, my only aim was to find out which school Nathan attended. I kept repeating this to myself over and over, immersing myself in those words until the unease disappeared. And that’s when it struck me.

What if Nathan was in a magic school?

Dread washed over my body. Given the current education system in Ellinoris, mages and mortals had separate schools. Nathan was seventeen years old at the time of his death, and given how he already was a mage, he ought to be in a magus academy!

This new revelation was like a slap to the face, snapping me back to my dismal reality. I stood no chance of getting myself enrolled. Convincing my parents came last, I didn't even have the mana to get in!

"Not if you gain mana," a voice boomed out of nowhere, making me jump. I looked over my shoulder abruptly. Selene’s head was poking out of the footboard, her hands curled over my bedsheets.

A shriek escaped my lips, making her burst into cackles. I would have thrown a fit and demanded to know why she was such a sadist, but her words had unfortunately piqued my interest. "Gain mana?" I asked, forgetting I had to use telepathy. "Is that possible?"

"Yes, you can harvest it from others and raise your reserve. It's essentially mana stealing," she said, still trying to contain her laughter.

Her words sounded familiar, and it didn't take long to understand why. My mind wandered back to that time when Jeriff had stabbed my throat in the chapel. They had been talking about mana harvesting as well.

Unease filled me. Her laughter ceased instantly.

"Mana stealing," I said slowly. She couldn't possibly mean that stealing, right? "And where will we steal it from?"

A smirk curled up her lips. "Dead bodies."