"Come on, Kael. Where the hell are you?"
My voice comes out rougher than I meant to, as nobles and other candidates around me look at the sudden introduction of noise. It was as if I were barking at the maze itself, like it was specifically holding Kael back out of spite. Which, to be fair, I kind of am barking.
The exit platform outside the maze looks WAY too pretty for the stress it caused me. It was hard not to notice; the sparkling crystal arches, vivid rune-lit pillars, and a clean, polished floor that reflects the sky like a smug mirror.
It was the kind of place nobles would call "stunning", and commoners would call "a waste of money."
I would call it the exit of a torture chamber.
Because every time the exit gate flares, I could feel my heart trying to jump out of my ribs.
'It's still not Kael.'
I'm standing at the edge of the platform, my arms folded, trying my best to look relaxed and all "nonchalant."
I'm failing.
My clothes are torn in two places, and my cheeks still feel oddly tepid, as if I could feel the remnants of a ghost's handprint, but instead of it being cold and dead, it was warm and alive.
'Thanks a lot, Marin Thornevale.'
Like an idiot... I keep replaying the event in my head:
"It would be a shame to leave a scar on that pretty face."
I hate her.
No, I hate myself.
I hate the fact that I'm probably gonna start thinking about her later, and that is absolutely terrible.
'Ugh, Ryn. YOU IDIOT! Just stop thinking about it. So what you blushed in front of an HEIR like nitwit? I'm sure everyone has. That's right... you're just like everyone else... ugh, I'm such a loser.'
Next to me is Randel. He's standing with his hands clasped, like he doesn't know what to do with them. He's cleaned up a bit since I dragged him out. He's still bruised and beaten, but at least he's breathing now, not broken.
'Good, he looks better now.'
'Although, why does he keep glancing at me like he's unsure if I'm going to bite someone?'
'To be fair, maybe I will.'
'If Kael doesn't show up soon, I'm going for the nearest faculty member I can find.'
...
'Kael, for the sake of my sanity, please come out soon.'
The exit gate flares again.
A figure stumbles out... and immediately someone else catches them and helps them sit down. It wasn't Kael. Just some sponsored student with pale hair and a stunned expression.
I blow out a breath through my teeth.
"Come on," I mutter again. "Seriously?"
Randel clears his throat softly. "Maybe... he's fine? Maybe his gate opened later than ours?"
"Later?" I snap, then stop myself and exhale. "Sorry. I didn't mean to shout at you."
Randel nods quickly, like he's used to it.
My jaw tightens.
The way he just accepted that treatment pisses me off.
I take a look around and see the platform packed with candidates who "survived." Some are sitting on the ground. Some are leaning against the pillars. Some are still trembling; their bodies have forgotten what safety feels like.
And there they are.
Nobles.
All clustered together, pretending they're not exhausted, a few of them loudly describe their kills as if they're trophies, embellishing as if they're reciting some heroic tale.
I hate them.
Look at them. Arrogant in their skin. If only I could... do to them what they did to Randel— what they do to us.
Like I did to those other two nobles.
One day.
I'll get my chance.
The air is full of murmurs, those who made it out early, and those who "died" in the maze. Some of them looked strong, while others looked feeble.
'Damn, it's too easy to see who the lucky ones are; they don't even try to hide it.'
I don't care about any of that.
I care about one thing:
Kael.
And the fact that he should be out by now.
'I mean... it's ridiculous. If anyone should be out by now, it should be him. He's the "calm" one, the one who treats danger like a puzzle waiting to be solved. Kael is the one to somehow make panic look inefficient.'
And yet here I am, pacing like an idiot while the clock is ticking down.
All because I got out first.
Me.
Something that wasn't supposed to happen.
As I keep to my internal thoughts, I stare at the big projection board floating above the platform. A total of three hours reduced to mere minutes. The timer itself glowed bright, yet cold.
[Timer: 00:07:34]
Seven minutes left.
That's all.
I swallow.
'Seven minutes is nothing. I'm sure he'll be out by then.'
'Although seven minutes is enough time for a person to bleed out if they get hit in the wrong place...'
'Actually, seven minutes was roughly the amount of time it took for the maze to spit out the two nobles I fought like trash.'
'...'
I rub the back of my neck and force an awkward laugh.
"I guess I'm just better than him," I say loudly, not realising that I spoke my thoughts out loud.
Randel blinks. "What?"
I point to the clock and grin like I'm not dying of embarrassment. "Ah. Nothing. I was just thinking about how I made it out before Kael. I mean... I knew I was good, but not THAT good."
Randel hesitates, then lets out a small, uncertain laugh. "Right..."
I glance at him. "That was a joke... I was joking."
"Yeah... sure," he says quickly.
"No, seriously— never mind," I stop myself from explaining, as I realise that explaining will only make it more unfunny.
Randel's eyes flick to the clock again.
[Timer: 00:06:58]
He swallows. "Maybe something's delaying him."
"Like what?" I mutter. "It doesn't matter, because Kael doesn't get dela—"
Then I stop.
Because I noticed what I said sounds like superstition.
Like I've decided Kael is immune to failure.
Like I'm tempting the universe to test my judgment.
I stare at the exit gate, trying my best to will it to flare.
It doesn't.
Randel shifts his weight, then speaks carefully, like he's stepping on broken glass.
"Ryn," he says, "what if… what if there's a chance he doesn't make it?"
The words hit me like a slap.
I turn slowly. "What?"
Randel raises his hands slightly, palms out. "I'm not saying he's weak. I'm just saying… people get eliminated. It happens. Maybe he got pulled out somewhere else. Maybe he—"
"Stop," I snap.
He flinches.
I immediately hate myself again.
I clench my fists, forcing my voice down.
"Listen, Randel," I say, quieter but sharper. "You don't know Kael like I do."
Randel swallows, nodding in hesitant agreement.
"There is absolutely no way," I continue, "no way that he would fail."
Randel's eyes flick to the timer, then back to me. "But—"
"But nothing," I cut in. "Kael doesn't quit. He doesn't panic. He doesn't give up just because something gets hard."
At least...
That's what I want to believe.
That's what I need to believe.
Because if Kael failed… if Kael got eliminated… then what does that say about the rest of us?
About me.
About commoners.
About all the "start line" stuff we talked about.
Promised.
I shake my head hard, like I can dislodge the thought.
"No," I mutter. "He's coming."
"He has to."
Randel looks like he wants to argue.
But doesn't.
Instead, he stands there, quietly, like someone who's recently learned that survival means not provoking the wrong storm.
And I exhale slowly, trying to control my own storm.
The exit gate flares again.
Two candidates stumble out together, one noble and one sponsored student. They're half-carrying each other, laughing like they've survived some spectacle.
But none of them was Kael.
My stomach tightens.
[Timer: 00:05:41]
Five minutes.
I start tapping my foot again without meaning to.
Randel glances at my foot, then looks away.
I hate that.
I hate how visible my worry is.
Kael would never let people see him like this.
Kael would stand there, calm and rational, and say something like "statistically, Ryn is fine. Probably."
'Kael, that idiot,' I think to myself humorously.
I want to punch Kael for always being calm.
But I also want him here so I can punch him.
The platform hums with tension now as the timer drops further.
People start counting in their heads. You can see it in the way their eyes keep flicking upward. Even nobles... especially nobles. They keep glancing at the timer as if they've suddenly realised the Academy doesn't care about their crest if they don't exit the maze in time.
Faculty members stand together near the dais, speaking in low tones. Their expressions remain neutral, but their posture shifts subtly, as if they're preparing to close the trial.
One of them raises a crystal slate and checks it.
'I don't like that.'
'I don't like that at all.'
[Timer: 00:04:12]
Four minutes.
Randel clears his throat again. "Ryn... maybe we should go. If he—"
I jump at him. "Why would we?"
He blinks. "Because, even if he... if he— because staying won't change anything."
I stare at him like he's missed the entire point of me being here.
"Staying changes everything," I say. "If he comes out and I'm not here, then what?"
Randel's mouth opens and closes soon after. "Then, he'd understand."
"No," I say, and my voice comes out too hard. "He wouldn't."
That's not true.
Kael probably would understand.
Kael is sometimes too understanding.
But I don't want him to have to understand.
I want him to look up and see someone waiting.
Someone who didn't leave.
Someone who didn't decide he was disposable.
Randel's gaze softens slightly. "You really trust him."
I swallow, jaw tight. "I know he'd do the same thing for me."
Silence settles between us, heavy and uncomfortable.
The exit gate pulses faintly, but no one comes out.
[Timer: 00:03:03]
Three minutes.
My mouth is dry.
My hands are cold.
The warmth on my cheek feels like a joke now.
The platform has become too loud; there are too many voices, too much shuffling, and too much noise, all trying to cover up the fact that everyone's watching the timer like it's a guillotine waiting to be set off.
I start walking toward the edge of the platform, staring down at the entrance structure below. Crystal pylons frame the maze's exit corridor. The gates flared each time someone exited, but right now it's quiet.
'Too quiet.'
I lean forward slightly as if I can see through crystal.
"Come on," I whisper. "Come on, Kael."
Randel comes to stand beside me, hesitant, and doesn't speak.
Maybe he finally understands that words won't help.
[Timer: 00:02:21]
A faculty voice rings out across the platform.
"Two minutes remaining."
The crowd shifts.
Some people cheer, relieved they made it.
'Oh shut up. No one cares.'
Others, like me, go tense, worried that someone they know might not.
I can feel my stomach drop.
Two minutes is nothing.
Two minutes is a blink.
Yet, two minutes is the time it takes for one mistake to become an ending.
Randel's voice is barely a breath. "It's getting really close now, Ryn. If he doesn't make it…"
I don't answer.
Because if I answer, I'll have to imagine it.
A scenario where he fails. Where I'm alone.
And I refuse.
The faculty member steps forward toward the centre stage, a crystal slate in his hand. His expression is calm, almost bored, but his voice carries authority.
"The practical exam will conclude at the three-hour mark," he announces. "Any candidates remaining within the maze will be eliminated."
The words land like a stone.
A few people murmur. Some look away.
I stare at the exit gate like I'm trying to force it to open through sheer hatred alone.
[Timer: 00:01:14]
One minute.
My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it's trying to break my ribs from the inside.
Randel shifts, tense.
He whispers, "Ryn—"
"Shut up, he'll make it in time," I whisper back, voice tight.
The exit gate stays quiet.
Thirty seconds.
I don't even breathe properly anymore. My lungs are shallow, limited by my panic.
Twenty seconds.
The faculty member raises his hand slightly, preparing to close the trial.
Ten seconds.
My vision tunnels.
I can hear my own heartbeat louder than anything else in the arena.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Then... the exit gate flares.
Not gently.
It erupts.
A violent pulse of light snaps outward from the corridor like the maze just spat something out.
A figure stumbles through, half-falling and half-dragging himself into the open air.
For half a second, I can't recognise him.
He's burned. Torn. Moving like his bones are tied to the ground by chains.
Then he lifts his head, and I see familiar black hair and pale silver eyes, but this time glazed with exhaustion.
Kael.
"Kael!" My voice cracks.
He takes one more step.
Then his legs give out.
He collapses onto the platform like a puppet that had its strings cut, hitting the platform floor hard, but not even flinching.
The gate behind him seals with a final chime.
The timer hits zero.
[Timer: 00:00:00]
A bell rings, it was clean and absolute.
"That concludes the practical exam," the faculty member announces.
I don't hear anything after that.
Because I'm already moving.
I sprint toward Kael, dropping to my knees beside him.
His chest rises shallowly. His face is pale. There's dried blood on his nose and mouth. His hands are scorched, fingers curled slightly like they forgot how to unclench.
He's breathing.
He's alive.
He made it.
Relief hits me so hard I nearly laugh and cry at the same time.
I grab his shoulder gently. "You idiot," I whisper, voice shaking. "You absolute—"
Kael's eyes flick open a fraction.
They're unfocused and hazy.
But he looks at me like he knows I'm there.
His lips part.
But no sound comes out.
Then his eyes close again, and his head lolls to the side.
Randel crouches a step behind me, staring at Kael like he's seeing something impossible.
"He… he actually made it," Randel whispers.
"Yeah," I say, breath ragged. "I told you he would."
I swallow hard, hand still on Kael's shoulder, grounding myself in the fact that he's real.
Then I look up at the faculty.
Some of them are watching Kael with mild interest.
Some with sharper attention.
Like they're filing this away.
Like Kael arriving on the last second wasn't luck.
Like it was a statement.
I tighten my jaw.
'Let them watch.'
'Kael's here now.'
And the Academy just learned that it can't get rid of him— us, that easily.