Chapter 11 – Begin Again

Mirian sat straight up, gasping for air, heart pounding. She looked around, tears falling from her eyes as she remembered. She’d been shot. She’d died. Gods, she’d died horribly!

Then she looked around. She was—in her dorm room?

A drop of water hit her in the face.

“You okay?” a voice said. Lily. It was Lily!

Mirian burst into tears and scrambled out of bed. “You’re alive! Oh thank the Gods.” She gave her a big hug.

Lily put on her glasses and gave her a quizzical stare. “Uh, obviously. Are you… okay?”

“No. Gods above, no. Holy hells. What… that was not a dream. There was no way that….” Mirian looked around. Another drop fell from the ceiling, this time onto the center of her bed. She went over and looked up. The hole was back. “They fixed that. What in the hells?” But there it was. When she looked up, she could see the glint of outside light, all the way up past the third floor.

“Wait, is that a leak?” Lily asked. “We’re on the first floor. How the hell did that happen?”

“I…” Mirian paused. Well, she still had no idea. “What’s… what’s today?”

“Fourthday,” Lily said. “Did you have a nightmare or something?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Holy hells.” She was thinking: There’s no way that was just a nightmare. This wasn’t like a strange dream that felt real until she woke up. It still felt real. And it hadn’t been a day, or a week, it had been almost an entire month. She remembered all of it—her exams, the break, the second quarter starting… the attack. “What… like, I know this sounds stupid, but what’s the date?”

“1st of Solem. Fourthday. Year of Poclym 4851, if you need that too. Mirian, what is going on?”

“Nothing. Everything. Shit, I… I don’t know. The Academy… it was attacked. Twenty-seven days from now.” The tears came to her eyes. It had just happened. “We died,” she said. “All of us. Gods above.” She started trembling, and had to sit down on her bed. Another drop of water splashed on her head, but she ignored it.

Lily was staring at her. “Mirian, you’re freaking me out.”

“Sorry. I’m freaking myself out too. I’m… I don’t understand.” What did it mean? Had it been a vision? Or had the Gods listened? She thought of Yiaverunan’s hourglass, of the God’s statue overlooking the Kiroscent Dome’s rotunda.

Of all the stories she had heard of the Gods, none of them were like this. The closest comparison was the Prophets, who heard the voices of the Gods. And the Prophets had been devout priests of the Luminate Order, they weren’t some random student. No one would believe the Gods were talking to her. Worse, she could be branded a heretic and jailed.

She looked at Lily and wiped the tears from her eyes. Second chance. You’ve been given a second chance. She would save them this time.

“You really don’t remember any of it?”

“Do you need… I can call a healer. Or escort you to the hospital. Or temple. Do you… Mirian, are you sure you didn’t just have a terrible dream?”

“That must have been it,” she lied. “Sorry. It was… vivid.” It was real.

“Isn’t your exam today?” Lily asked.

Mirian blinked, and noticed the clay cube with glyphs on it that was lying on her table. Right, she thought. None of the things she’d done last time had happened yet. She still needed to complete the quarter. There was no sense sabotaging her career by skipping classes. Besides, who was going to believe her? She needed proof.

Another drop of water hit her. Oh, and she needed to deal with the Gods damned hole again!

“Mirian?”

“Sorry, I need to stop the leak first.” She picked up her spellbook, opened it to the page with shape metal and… it was blank. Of course it was blank. She hadn’t scribed the spell to it yet. “There’s a pipe that got hit up on the third floor, so it’s going to keep spraying water even when the rain stops.” She grabbed the storage tin from under her bed, added a wad of clay to it, and marched up to the third floor in her nightrobe.

The door was locked, but she used a lift object to get the latch on the other side up, and then opened. Had it been locked last time? She couldn’t remember. But sure enough, the copper pipe was hissing out water. She stuffed the clay in the hole, then put the tin under the spraying water. That would last for at least a few hours.

She rushed back down. As she dressed for class, she said, “Lily, I think I’m just going to act strange for a bit. It’s… I can’t explain it. Or at least, I can’t explain it without sounding absolutely unhinged. Sorry in advance,” she said.

“Uh, alright,” Lily said. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“Maybe later,” she said. “I’ll think of some clever way to explain it all.” Or maybe not, she thought. Her thoughts were still whirling with all the death she’d just seen. The sheer terror of it all, the panicked screams—so many people, slaughtered. And why? Akana Praediar was Baracuel’s ally. As she grabbed her spellbook and cloak to leave, she thought of the cloaked figure. An Akanan spy? Then her mind was back on the pale faces of students who had bled to death in the Kiroscent Dome. The terror she’d felt, crawling away, knowing she was going to die. She left, and those images kept invading her mind as she walked. Gods, how was she going to do anything?

“Mirian. Miran!” Lily had caught up with her. “Your notebook. Your artifice project! Here! Wow, you really are out of it.”

Mirian blinked like an idiot. “Wow. Right. Thank you!” Yeah, she was absolutely doomed.

The day was overcast, with a slight drizzle coming down. She remembered it would be cloudy all day, and everyone would have their heads down, cloak on until—

The cloaked figure!

Her stomach grumbling told her she’d forgotten to go eat breakfast. Whoops. But that meant she was early. She could… catch him? Probably not. But maybe she could cause enough of a scene to get someone else to notice. That was the problem. The only other person who’d ever seen the guy was Valen of all people. Gods, Valen had died too. She remembered her body, smoldering between the pillars.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

She walked fast, passing a group of first years who were dawdling on the path, then made her way across the plaza. Deja vu struck. There’d been a first year girl crying in front of Bainrose Library. With a start, she looked back—and realized she’d just passed that girl.