The shape beneath the great oak trees doesn’t appear to be a body right away.

Adelwin pauses on the cobble-stone path. His daily morning walk around the academy’s grounds hangs in a breathless pause. The fields of dewy grass are a numb green in the early light. It breaks through the trees, bathing the body in a pond of aquamarine. Insects swirl above it, their beating wings sparking glimmers of white.

Between the small gathering of trees, a handful of old statues lean their sculpted bodies into overpowering vegetation — merging them into the landscape. A statue of Daphne surfaces from a chalky, old trunk. Branches sprout through her eyes and mouth and ears, head half-crumbled.

He steps off the path. It is a body and it is dead. Discarded and tired and twisted around. Almost broken after a chase. But as Adelwin looks down onto the face it wears, he knows it is not human. For he hasn’t seen anything quite as beautiful and quite as chilling before. Skin so translucent, blood vessels peek through — light blue and then a darker purple. Its wildly-shaped eyes motionless and glazed over by a milky fog.

He fumbles for his phone. It’s then he becomes aware of his pounding heart, the cold sweat gathered on his forehead.

“Yes?” Louise picks up right away. She’s awake, already busy with sorting files.

Adelwin opens his mouth, his gaze still brushing over the body. If it wasn’t for the black cut of the military uniform and the torn fabric from where medals were ripped, maybe he wouldn’t have guessed.

“What is it?”

He gently lifts a silver chain draped over the pale neck. A round medallion hangs from it.

“I’m out back,” he says, and silence grows longer at the other end. Louise can hear his voice struggle for composure. “I think it’s the emperor’s brother.”

____

Minutes later, Louise arrives to confirm his suspicion. One knee in the wet grass, she examines the carvings on the medallion. Symbols Adelwin can’t decipher. But his brother would know. August would. He stands with his arms crossed, waiting.

“You’re right, for instance. This is Zavian, the emperor’s brother”, Louise says. “And this.”

“I haven’t seen such a carving before,” he says and lowers himself beside her. “What is it?”

“A mark of sorts. I think it shows he’s been exiled, which we know. As for what brought him here,” Louise turns, her eyes shiny brown above her glasses. “Have you heard anything?”

“No, he was in the Isles. As he’s always been.”

She tucks strawberry-blonde hair behind her ears, thinking. Her freckled jaw tenses as she clenches her teeth.

“Best not to call August, I think,” she says carefully. “For now, anyway.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

August doesn’t ponder, his decisions are a snap of fingers. Merciless and too precise. August with the weight of everything on his shoulders.

“It’s good the students aren’t awake yet. They don’t need to see any of this. We’ll need a stretcher to move him. You seem shaken, stay here.”

Louise gets up. Her heels dark red smudges as she hurries back to the school’s rear entrance. He seems shaken. Is he? He glances down at his hands and finds them trembling as he stretches out his fingers.

There’s an inkling of fear in his chest. And there usually is with such things. He’s only supposed to brush shoulders with August’s world — with the emperor and the council. He occasionally hears a whisper or two through the academy. A student gushing over details from their parents about this meeting and that policy. Nothing more.

And it’s fine this way, isn’t it? He’s fine with his morning walks when the grounds are undisturbed, his wonderful office and his research. Stacks and stacks of books and the sharp smell of coffee. Days go by nicely and uneventfully. It’s fine this way.

He presses his hands over his face and sighs.

Zavian doesn’t crack Adelwin’s monotony, he shatters it.

____

Louise is resourceful and maddeningly intelligent. She knows whom to trust in the academy. So, when she returns inside, she makes straight for the infirmary. Her heels echo through the spacious hallways as she hurries.

She finds Ida putting on her doctor’s coat, curly black hair spills over her back. Louise knocks gently on the open door. Ida is quick to smile when she turns and sees her. She lays a finger over her lips.

Two students spent the night in the infirmary, injured in the aftermath of yesterday’s sporting events. Peaceful, veins coated in the blessing of analgesics.

Ida walks out into the hall, slowly closing the door behind her.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Louise says quietly, looking up at her. “But I need your help now, please.”

____

The sun glows faintly behind thickening clouds. Below, the pavement darkens with shy rain. Adelwin draws the tattered curtain back into its place.

“We have an agreement, then?” He asks, turning toward the rest of the room.

On the last floor of the school, near the attic. They moved Zavian into a cramped storage room. He lays on a makeshift bed now, of old sheets and blankets. Not that he needs any warmth.

“We do, sir,” Józsi answers. They decided to alert him as well, second in-charge of the academy’s security, to ensure the situation wouldn’t spill past him. They’ll contain it for as long as they can. He stands awkwardly in his work suit, too tall for the attic room. “It’s expected he’ll wake at some point, doctor?”

“I have no doubt.” Ida sits on a shabby, rattling chair with a big book on her legs. Mystical Anatomy, it says on its ornate cover in elegant writing. “As it is, demons can only be harmed or destroyed by powers greater than themselves. I cannot make assumptions about how he came to be in this state. But flesh and blood will heal with time.”

“I’m quite certain a visit from the Secretariat is unavoidable today.” August’s underlings, brooding soldiers with very little patience. “His disappearance was surely quickly noticed. A timeframe would be useful, doctor.”

“He has many broken bones and muscle ruptures. Internal bleeding,” she points at the purple-black bruising on his torso. Her voice is weary, “Sadly, it could be anywhere from a couple of days to a week.”

Too long. A guessing game. Jószi shifts, glancing at Adelwin for support. It doesn’t seem something rushed or poorly planned. The Secretariat — August, surely Adelwin must have some idea about this. But he doesn’t speak.

“Any way to help a quicker recovery?”

“There are incantations. And if it was anyone else, I’d try. But given…”

“That’s alright,” Louise jumps in. “The most important matter is to keep it from the students. For their safety.”

Józsi arranges his moustache, white and neatly trimmed.

“A few days, then. I’ll do my best. After that, well, it depends on his intentions, sir. You understand.”

Adelwin nods. “Whatever happens, I’ll answer for it. For now we’ll check on him during the day. I’ll return here sometime tonight and stay with him. As for the Secretariat, none of you have to worry about them.”