I realized something was wrong when the forest stopped recognizing me.
Before that, everything had been simple: I walked - and the trees whispered, animals hid, the snow under my feet grew denser, as if it were trying to make my path easier. I'd already gotten used to this strange, alien attention from the world. Used to the way the cold around me responded to the cold inside.
But the closer I got to the walls of Nevermore, the weaker that response became.
At first - barely. The wind stopped dying around me like it used to. Branches no longer hurried to draw back their needles when I passed. Birds - instead of freezing in silence - sometimes took off with a sharp cry, as if from surprise, not terror.
Then - more.
The snow started sinking under my feet again. Not like it would for an ordinary person - I was still lighter, stronger - but without that strange sense that the ground itself was supporting me.
The world… moved away from me. Not with disgust - with caution. As if I were approaching the edge of a zone where my rules no longer applied.
*Feel it?* - the voice asked. - *This isn't your territory. This is someone else's will. Someone else's magic. Someone else's cold.*
"Good," - I muttered. - "Maybe here I'll finally stop being the center of the universe."
*You were never the center,* - he snorted. - *You're a crack. The center is wherever others decide it is. For example, over there.*
He nudged my attention forward.
I stopped.
The forest ended almost abruptly - like it had been cut with a knife. One more step and a clearing opened between the trunks. Wide, broad, level. The snow here lay in an almost perfect layer, without the usual tracks of animals or people I was used to. Only here and there jutted black, twisted bushes, as if charred.
And beyond…
Beyond that, the walls rose.
They were almost exactly as in the vision: high, gray, with black vines clinging to the stone like it was alive. Towers, battlements, narrow windows. Massive gates, closed for now, with wrought-iron patterns like interwoven branches and bones.
Nevermore Academy.
I stood at the edge of the forest and stared at it like at a movie set someone had shoved me into by force.
*Dream house,* - the voice snorted. - *A place where they gather everyone who doesn't fit the norm. Just your thing.*
"I like it when people aren't killed for being different," - I corrected. - "Not freak shows."
*We'll see who the freak is here.* - he remarked lazily.
I took a step forward.
And right then I realized: before I walked up to those gates, I needed to know what I… looked like.
Not in vague terms - "a bit paler, a bit stronger." Clearly. In detail. Because no matter how much I told myself what matters is inside, the first thing they'd see in there, beyond the walls, would be my face.
And I had no idea what it looked like now.
***
Mirrors don't grow in the forest. But water does.
I left the academy on the horizon and veered off a bit, toward a faint, steady sound. After a few minutes I came to a narrow river, almost completely hidden under ice. Only in the middle, where the current was faster, a dark, open strip remained.
I crouched at the very edge.
The ice under me creaked quietly but didn't crack. The water flowed, reflecting the gray sky. I leaned closer.
At first I saw only a shadow. A blurred patch. Then - outlines. Then - myself.
And froze.
It was me.
And… not me.
Black hair - that was familiar. Not ink-black like Wednesday's, but a bit softer, with a few almost invisible warmer strands in the light. But overall - yes, dark, thick. Only… longer than I remembered. It fell onto my forehead, covering part of my brows, and brushed my neck. A bit tousled, like I hadn't seen a comb in a long time (which was true).
The face…
The face was foreign.
Not in the sense that I'd become ugly. Quite the opposite. The features were sharp, precise. Cheekbones a bit more defined than before, jawline clean, without the usual heaviness. Nose straight, without the bump that had always seemed too obvious to me. Skin pale, almost translucent, but not sickly - rather… cold. Like a statue standing in the shade.
I looked… good.
Too good.
Too correct.
And too young.
I ran my fingers along my cheek, along my jawline. The skin under my fingers felt just like it looked - smooth, firm, slightly cold. No wrinkles, no traces of fatigue, no dark circles under my eyes like the ones I'd gotten used to after sleepless nights.
Fourteen.
The word surfaced in my mind on its own.
I looked fourteen.
Not twenty-something, like… *there.* Not a worn-out adult who'd seen too much and slept too little. A teenager. Tall, thin, strangely harmonious, as if someone had taken all my best features, cleaned out the bad ones - and hit "save as version 14+."
"You've got to be kidding me," - I whispered to my reflection. - "Am I… a kid now?"
*Not a kid,* - the voice corrected. - *Young. Flexible. Impressionable. Just what we need.*
"We who?" - I hissed.
*You, of course,* - he replied innocently. - *You were the one who dreamed of turning back time. Fixing your mistakes. Starting from a clean slate. Well - here. New age. New body. New world.*
"I didn't ask to be thrown into the body of a fourteen-year-old monster," - I snapped. - "I asked…" - I fell silent.
I'd asked for too much. Too vaguely. And the universe, as usual, had decided it knew best.
I looked at my reflection again.
If I hadn't known I was looking at myself, I'd have thought this was some weird Nevermore student: pale, black-haired, sharp features. A bit gothic, a bit eerily calm. That type definitely wouldn't stand out too much there.
But there were two details that ruined the whole illusion of "normality."
The eyes.
I lifted my gaze - and flinched, even though I'd braced for it.
Bright green. Not just green like people with a rare iris color. Bright, saturated, like molten glass with a drop of poison in it. A color that doesn't fade in the dim winter light but instead seems too alive for this gray world.
And not human.
Not because of the color - because of the depth. The iris was slightly wider than a human's, the pupil a bit narrower. The border between them too sharp, like drawn. The gaze - too… focused. Too predatory.
I leaned even closer.
The water shivered, but the reflection stayed clear.
There was none of that usual human unfocusedness in those eyes, when you look at yourself and see just a set of features. There was… awareness. As if someone was looking at me from inside. Someone who wasn't me. Or was - but different.
*Like it?* - the voice asked. - *You always wanted people to see you're not like everyone else. Now they can't miss it.*
"I wanted them to see my… individuality, not alien glow," - I shot back. - "With eyes like this I can go straight into the 'highly dangerous' category."
*At least it's pretty,* - he said lazily. - *You're officially that "mysterious pretty boy with strange eyes" girls lose their minds over.*
"Stop it," - I grimaced. - "I look fourteen. What girls, for god's sake."
*Nevermore has its own rules,* - he snorted. - *There your age won't be the main marker of weirdness.*
I ran a hand through my hair, brushing the fringe back. The reflection obediently repeated the motion. For a second I saw myself fully: thin neck, sharp collarbones, dark collar of the jacket, pale face, green eyes.
Beautiful.
Frightening.
Not real.
"Why am I younger?" - I asked out loud, not taking my eyes off the water. - "Is this your doing?"
*Partly,* - the voice admitted. - *When you said "yes," you didn't just accept the power. You… gave up. Everything that was before. Your body, your age, your illnesses, your exhaustion. All of that stayed over there, on the far side of the crack. Here - you started over. From the point that seemed… optimal to the hunger.*
"Fourteen is 'optimal'?" - I laughed bitterly. - "Not eighteen, not twenty, not thirty. Fourteen."
*Fourteen is a boundary,* - he explained. - *You're no longer a child, but not yet an adult. The body is flexible, the psyche - malleable. And most importantly - you're old enough to feel guilt, but not so old that it kills you.*
"Perfect age to sculpt a monster out of me." - I said quietly.
*Or - for you to decide for yourself what you want to be,* - he added, unexpectedly gentle. - *You hate me, and that's… amusing. But the fact remains: no one else would have given you a second chance. Not this world, not your old one. Only hunger. Only the void. Only me.*
I stayed silent.
Meanwhile, the water had started to crust over with a thin layer of ice, starting from the edges. I hadn't even noticed when it began. At some point I just saw the reflection trembling - not from the current, but because the surface was getting harder.
I jerked my hand back.
The ice stopped.
*There's another one of your "mystical abilities,"* - the voice reminded me. - *You freeze everything you stare at for too long.*
"Very handy for socializing," - I muttered. - "'Hi, my name is…' - and the person turns into an ice statue."
*Don't be dramatic,* - he snorted. - *Right now you're just influencing things. A little. If you hold back, no one will even notice. Well… almost no one.*
"Almost?" - I repeated.
*Those with abilities of their own will feel that you're… not entirely here,* - he said. - *That part of you is standing on the border. Between.*
"Between human and monster." - I finished.
*Between the world and the void,* - he corrected. - *The monster is just a form. A face you can put on. Or not.*
I looked at my reflection again.
Black hair. Pale skin. Sharp features. And - green, too bright eyes in which, if you looked closely, something like a shadow seemed to move behind the iris. As if something else was sitting under the human shell, ready to peek out if needed.
"And still," - I said, - "thanks for not making me a bony horned freak right away."
*That wasn't me,* - the voice chuckled. - *That was you. Even when you accepted the power, you clung to the image of "normal." To a face that wouldn't make people scream at first glance. The hunger doesn't care what you look like. It only cares that you can hunt. And a hunter with a pretty face is sometimes even more effective.*
"Stop it," I repeated irritably. "I'm not going to 'hunt' anyone with my looks."
*As long as the hunger is small,* - he agreed peaceably. - *We'll see what happens when you're truly starving.*
I pushed away from the ice and stood up.
Now that I knew what I looked like, walking up to the academy became… a bit scarier. Because along with my appearance I'd realized something else: I no longer looked like an adult man people might fear just because of his size. I looked like a teenager.
Which meant many - especially those who liked feeling powerful - would be inclined to underestimate me.
And I hated being underestimated.
***
The path to the gates was short. Too short to come up with a cover story, but long enough to realize there was no way back.
I walked along a flat, packed trail leading from the edge of the forest to the academy. On either side grew the same black shrubs I'd seen in the clearing. On closer inspection they turned out not to be bushes, but some kind of strange plants: thin, wire-like branches covered in tiny dark leaves. They moved, though there was no wind.
I didn't touch them.
*Afraid?* - the voice asked with interest.
"I've got enough problems with freezing everything around me," I said. "I don't need to find out these things bite back."
The gates drew nearer. Huge, heavy, with wrought-iron patterns. Above them - a stone arch with the name carved into it:
NEVERMORE ACADEMY.
The letters were black, with a faint violet sheen, like an oil slick on water.
I stopped a few steps away.
*Well?* - the voice stretched lazily. - *Knock. Or do you want them to notice you themselves?*
"What if they already have?" - I asked. - "With my eyes and cold and the rest of the package?"
*If they're worth anything - they have,* - he replied. - *The question is what they'll do about it.*
I raised my hand - and at that moment the gates shuddered on their own.
The metal creaked softly. Locks clicked. The wrought-iron leaves slowly swung inward, revealing the courtyard.
I lowered my hand.
"That… wasn't me, by the way." - I said at once.
*Not this time,* - the voice agreed -. *They're expecting you.*
The courtyard was… alive.
Stone paths crossing at odd angles. Black vines climbing the walls. Several trees - bare, leafless, but clearly not dead. Statues - either of people or of beings, in robes and holding unidentifiable objects. Lanterns that burned with a soft violet light even though the sun hadn't set yet.
And - people.
Or rather, not quite people.
Someone walked along the path, laughing. A girl with hair white as snow and blue lips. A boy with oddly grayish skin and eyes that were too dark. A twelve-year-old girl whose cheek was slowly crawled over by moving shadows, like living things.
I took a step inside.
And the world… flinched.
Not loudly. Not in a way an ordinary eye would see. But I felt the air around me grow denser. The lanterns dimmed slightly, then lit up again, as if they'd blinked. The black vines on the walls froze for a second, stopping their movement.
Several people turned.
Their gazes slid over me - and stuck.
I saw their nostrils flare slightly, their muscles tense. Someone who'd been walking slowed down. Someone else - on the contrary - sped up, trying to get past me faster.
They could feel it.
Not that I was a wendigo. That word probably wasn't in circulation here. But that I was something that warped their usual picture of things.
*Welcome to the outcasts' club,* - the voice chuckled. - *Even among monsters, you're weird.*
"As if I didn't know," - I said.
I hadn't managed a second step when she appeared in front of me.
Not from thin air, no. She just approached so quickly and quietly that I hadn't noticed her.
A tall woman, about forty by human standards. Dark hair pulled back into a tight bun. Black suit, white blouse, strict collar. A beautiful face, but cold, like carved from marble. Lips - a thin line. Eyes - dark, watchful.
And - a faint shadow in the air around her. As if the space there were slightly thickened, like around me - only different. More… ordered.
"New," - she said, not asking but stating. Her voice was low, calm, with a slight accent I couldn't place. - "Name?"
I opened my mouth - and suddenly realized I hadn't come up with a new name and hadn't recalled the one they'd called me *there*. And even if I had, I didn't want to use it - it felt… too heavy. Too tied to the old life, that body, that age.
*Here's your first lie,* - the voice whispered approvingly. - *Choose.*
I hesitated for a second - and said:
"Kai."
The word jumped out on its own. Short. Sharp. Cold.
The woman raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Surname?"
I'd been about to lie about that too, but… for some reason I couldn't. The words stuck in my throat.
"…" - I said my real one. Quietly, but clearly.
Her lips twitched almost imperceptibly, as if the name reminded her of something.
"Age?"
That was where I really didn't know what to say.
*Fourteen,* - the voice prompted. - *By the body. You don't have any documents anyway.*
"Fourteen." - I said.
Her gaze slid over my face, my figure. Assessing. Checking. Comparing.
"You look…" - she tilted her head slightly, - "…older."
"It happens." - I shrugged.
She watched me for a couple more seconds. There was no fear in her eyes. No obvious disgust either. There was… curiosity. Controlled, professional.
"I'm Principal Larissa Weems," - she introduced herself. - "Welcome to Nevermore, Kai Chrom. We don't often have…" - she searched for the word, - "…open spots in the middle of the school year. But for special cases we make exceptions."
"I'm a special case?" - I clarified.
"You are a very special case," - she replied calmly. - "And not only because you arrived without an invitation and without an escort."
She stepped closer. Within arm's reach. I felt her own… power touch mine. Not like the forest - not cautiously and not with rejection. More like an experienced doctor touching a wound: carefully, but confidently.
"You have an unusual…" - she wrinkled her nose slightly -, "…scent."
"Ran out of deodorant," - I said automatically.
She didn't smile. But something like interest flickered in her eyes.
"That's not the scent of your body," - she said. - "It's…" - she paused, searching for the word, - "…absence. Emptiness. Cold. You're not like a werewolf, or a vampire, or a siren, or a warlock. And," she leaned a little closer, peering into my eyes, "your irises are… unstable."
I froze.
"What do you mean?" - I asked.
"The color," - she explained calmly. - "It's… deeper than it should be. As if there's another layer behind the green. Black. And it… moves."
I clenched my teeth.
*She sees,* - the voice said quietly. - *Not everything, but more than the others.*
"It's… congenital," - I lied. - "It's always been like that."
"You're lying," - she stated just as calmly. - "But that's normal. New students often lie. Especially those who aren't used to their oddities being the norm here, not a reason to hunt them."
The word "hunt" hung in the air like a provocation.
I said nothing.
"What are you, Kai?" - she asked. - "Not by name. By nature. Which group do you belong to?"
I could have said, "I don't know." It would have been true. Partly.
But part of me already knew.
Wendigo.
A creature they might not even have heard of in this world. Or had heard of - and written off as a campfire horror story.
*Say it,* - the voice whispered. *Let's see how they react to the truth.*
I looked the principal in the eye.
"I…" - I began, and broke off.
Something jerked inside. The itch under my skin flared. For a second I had the feeling that if I said that word out loud now, not in the forest, not alone, but here, under these walls, in this courtyard - something would break.
Not outside. Inside.
*Afraid?* - the voice asked curiously.
"I… don't know," - I answered honestly.
Principal Weems waited. Patiently. Without rushing.
"I don't know what I am," - I said at last. - "Not completely. I… woke up in the forest. With no past. With this body. With these…" - I nodded at my eyes, - "…bonuses. I… heard voices. Saw things that shouldn't exist. But I can't put myself into any of your… groups."
It wasn't quite a lie. But not quite the truth either.
Larissa Weems straightened slowly.
"Amnesia," - she said, like a diagnosis. - "Spontaneous awakening of abilities. No obvious affiliation with known types. Cold. Emptiness." - She thought for a second. - "That's… interesting."
*She didn't push you away,* - the voice said, surprised. - *Didn't get scared. Didn't throw you out. That means… she needs you.*
"I'm not dangerous," - I added. - "As long as I control myself."
"For now," - she repeated, narrowing her eyes slightly. - "That 'for now' is what interests me."
She turned toward the gates.
"Come. We'll sort it out."
I stepped after her.
And in that moment - for a second, for a single breath - I felt something inside me… reach. For the walls. For the vines. For the strange, thickened magic of this place.
Nevermore didn't push me away like the forest at the border. It… studied me. The way I had studied my reflection in the water.
*They'll think you're just another weird teenager,* - the voice said. - *With a pretty face and unnatural eyes. They won't see the horns under your skin. Not yet.*
"And that's my chance," - I said. - "To learn to be… someone else. Not just hunger."
*You're still hunger,* - he objected gently. - *You're just wrapped nicely right now. Black hair. Nice face. Bright green eyes. Fourteen years old. And a shadow under your skin.*
"The shadow is mine," - I said. - "Not yours."
He laughed.
*We'll see, Kai. We'll see.*
I walked along the stone path, feeling eyes on me. Some whispered. Some stared openly. Some, on the contrary, looked away.
I already knew what I saw in the reflection.
Now I had to find out what they would see in me.
And - who I will be when the mirror is not water in the forest, and eyes of other monsters.