The next morning, I woke up at the crack of dawn, grateful I didn’t have a roommate to worry about waking. I was one of the few students who got a dorm to themself, arranged by Leander no doubt, so I wouldn’t have to worry about revealing my, well, differences.

I cut across the campus toward the gym, revelling at how suddenly my life had changed. Shadow and Constellation powers aside, I never would have thought I’d be a first-thing-in-the-morning gym freak. When I arrived, Castor was already there. He swung his sword, striking one of the practice dummies over and over.

“Good morning,” I said softly. He grunted in reply. I swore he swung his sword a little harder, but maybe it was my imagination. Typical.

I bounced around a bit, jumping up and down and then stretching. Around us, the gym was empty. I wondered how far underground it was and how far we were from real sunlight. With the mirrored walls, it didn’t feel dim at all.

I took another look at Castor as I bent down, stretching my legs and back. He was, unfortunately, everywhere I went lately. In class. In the dining hall. I even ran into him here at the gym, at this godforsaken hour.

His arms strained as he swung his sword. He’d clearly already forgotten about me and was lost in his own training. I guess he wasn’t as bothered by me as I was by him. 

Castor did a series of different swings, one strike after the other. I could almost see what Leander meant when he called Castor the most talented of our generation. As long as he didn’t open his mouth, that is.

While I was contemplating the injustice of Castor’s talents, a dazed Poppy wandered into the gym, still in her pajamas. One hand rubbed at her eye. She collapsed in front of me, flopping down like a fish, and dropped her head into her crossed arms on the floor.

“It’s so early,” she moaned.

“Thanks for coming,” I said awkwardly. We’d teamed up, being the only two in the class who couldn’t get our elements working properly. She was also the only classmate who’d said more than five words to me so far, but I was pretending not to notice that part.

She peered up at me, one eye peeking past her arms.

“Of course,” she said, sitting up. She gave me an earnest look. “I want to be the best Astral I can be as well.” 

Poppy paused, as if considering, then continued. “And it would be really awful to get killed by a Phantom on my first mission.”

“Have you ever seen a Phantom?” I asked.

She bit her lip. “Once. It was horrifying. They take these mutated forms. For a second, you can almost imagine they’re people. And then you look at them,” she said quietly. 

Poppy looked away and the air grew tense. I could tell she didn’t want to talk about it, so I figured it was a good time to change the subject.

“Before we start, I—” I cleared my throat. I was new to this whole asking-people-for-help thing. I was new to having people to ask for help. “I thought maybe you could give me some tips on doing the smaller, more detailed stuff.”

Poppy nodded. “That’s why we’re here, right? We both need to figure this out.”

The “and fast” was left unsaid. We both knew it.

“I must have burned over a hundred slabs of wood,” I admitted, sending a silent apology to the environment.

“Over a hundred?” Poppy said, gasping at me.

“It could have been a little less,” I said. It most certainly wasn’t.

“How does it feel when you try to write?” she asked.

“Like…I’m pouring hot coffee into a thimble. And it keeps spilling everywhere,” I said.

“Hmmm.” Poppy looked pensive. “When I do it, it’s more like dipping a pen in ink. I’m only picking up the amount I want to work with.”

“Huh,” I said, deep in thought. “I’ll try that.”

I felt like we were supposed to be exchanging knowledge, so I paused, summoning what little I knew. “Maybe try just letting everything out,” I suggested. “Don’t dip the brush in the paint—pour it all out. All of it.”

As we set up a practice dummy, we ended up pretty close to Castor. I swore I felt his eyes on us, but every time I looked, he was immersed in his own training. I picked up another slab to try Poppy’s technique, but it was quickly added to my ash pile. 

Meanwhile, Poppy’s attacks were getting stronger and stronger—and one time, she even rocked the practice dummy. It didn’t fall over, but it sure teetered back and forth.

“I’m trying the pour it all out approach,” she told me.

I was also trying things her way. I tried to visualize the pen—dipping it in ink, picking up just what I needed. But how much did I need? I called up my fire, pulling back as much as I could, until I could barely feel it. 

The wood slab, while completely scorched black, was still there.

I jumped up to show Poppy my minor success. Unfortunately, in my excitement, I totally lost control of my fire. It burst out from my hands, flaring up around us, and raced rapidly away from me. I saw it as if in slow motion, unfurling and devouring everything around me. The edges of the fire flickered blue. And as it climbed its way out of me, I saw it heading straight for Poppy. 

Poppy—her eyes wide, and worst of all, just standing there. I tried to pull my fire back, but it didn’t return. Just like what happened when I fought Castor, I was stuck watching the fire climb straight towards her, a dangerous line between us. I pulled back with everything I had.

“Stay back!” a voice roared. 

In an instant, Castor was between Poppy and me. He pushed her back and she landed on her backside, a small oomph escaping her. The fire finally fizzled and stopped, just shy of Castor’s feet. 

Castor’s eyes were narrow and his gaze pointed. He stood, pointing his sword at me, ready to defend Poppy. He kept one hand splayed behind him, as if to hold her back. But the look on his face… I had no doubt had the fire been even an inch closer, he would have driven that sword into me.

And that was when I realized a hard truth: he genuinely believed I was dangerous. He looked at me and he saw a monster.

The flames faded from my hands, but Castor didn’t lower his sword. That was why I’ve been seeing him everywhere. He’d been following me to protect the school. From me.