I woke with a tug on my hair.
"Zirinos, it's morning already!" Mira was standing by the bed, a piece of paper in her hand, her eyes shining. "I made a drawing. Look."
I sat up. The room was still dark, the other boys snoring. I took the paper.
It was a stick figure with long legs, a line pretending to be a sword, and a yellow circle above – the sun, perhaps. The proportions were absurd, the strokes childish, but I recognised the shape.
"Is that me?" I asked.
"You. Fighting. And winning."
"It's good."
"Good?" She made a face. "It's beautiful."
"It's beautiful, yes."
I folded the paper carefully and put it in my tunic pocket. Mira smiled, satisfied.
"You were the one who saved me," she said while I dressed. "From the bad woman. From the bad man."
"I was."
The lie weighed for a second. Then it passed. As always.
"Zirinos, are you the strongest man in the world?"
"Not yet." I tightened my sword belt. "But I will be."
---
In the corridor, the smell of wax and spent torches. Mira held my hand. Lara Semorços appeared at the bend, on her way to the teachers' lounge.
"Zirinos!" Her smile was always radiant. "I heard you were the best in the mana test. I'm not surprised."
"Thank you, professor."
Her green eyes ran over me from head to toe. Then they dropped to Mira.
"Is she your daughter?"
"My ward."
"You're a good boy, Zirinos." Lara touched Mira's hair. "You take good care of her."
"I try."
"If you ever need help with any subject, my office is open. For you and the little one."
"I appreciate it."
"Let's eat!" Mira tugged my hand. "Now."
Lara laughed. I nodded and followed Mira.
---
The dining hall was full of voices. I sat in a corner, Mira beside me. She ate bread with honey; I drank water and chewed cheese.
Two older students, sitting nearby, spoke in low voices.
"They say a fisherman saw a strange man in the southern woods. Grey hair, brown eyes. But he changes his face at night."
"Contraranures?"
"Or worse."
I didn't turn. I didn't need to.
*Trussum*, I thought. *He changed his appearance. Now he's harder to identify.*
Mira tugged my sleeve.
"Zirinos, are they talking about a monster?"
"They're talking about a bad man."
"Are you stronger than him?"
"Much stronger."
She smiled, satisfied, and went back to her bread and honey.
---
The training yard was almost empty. Mira sat on a stone bench with her paper and charcoal. I drew my sword.
The movements were fast, precise. Vertical cut. Thrust. Parry. Riposte. My body responded without thinking. My gold-and-blood hair shone with sweat.
Mira was drawing.
Mára Ferão appeared. She sat on another bench, arms crossed, her hard eyes watching.
I kept training.
When I finished, she approached.
"Where did you learn to fight, boy?"
"In the street, professor."
"Liar." Her voice was dry, without surprise. "You have technique. You have schooling. I don't know where you come from, but it wasn't the streets."
I looked at her. Icy eyes.
"I learned from life."
"Don't be poetic. It's ugly on handsome men."
I didn't answer. She watched me a few more seconds.
"You'll go far. If you don't die first."
She walked away. Mira held up her drawing.
"Zirinos! Look!"
I went over. It was a stick figure fighting a shapeless thing – many arms, a mouth full of teeth.
"What is that?"
"An ugly monster."
"And I'm winning?"
"You are. As always."
I put the drawing next to the first one.
---
The academy gardens were quiet. Mira ran after a blue butterfly, arms open, her laugh free.
Néris Truid sat on a stone bench, a scroll open on her lap. She blushed when she saw me.
"Zirinos."
"Néris."
I sat on the bench, at a respectful distance. Mira kept running.
"Studying?" I asked.
"A treatise on Desty. My goddess."
"What does it say?"
"It says love is the most powerful force. That it can heal wounds that magic cannot reach."
"And you believe that?"
"I do." Her eyes shone. "Have you ever seen someone truly love? It's stronger than any spell."
I looked at her. Innocent. Fragile. Easy.
"Maybe you'll show me someday."
She blushed more. Her hands trembled slightly over the scroll.
"Zirinos!" Mira shouted from the other side of the garden. "I didn't catch the butterfly!"
"It doesn't matter. She'll come back tomorrow."
I stood. Néris said goodbye with a shy wave.
I walked away. Mira skipped ahead of me.
'One more', I thought. 'One more who fell.'
---
The library smelled of ancient parchment and dust. Mira flipped through a picture book – a children's bestiary, with drawings of dragons and mermaids.
The librarian, the same deep-eyed woman who had refused to help Ethan, answered me with disdain.
"What are you looking for?"
"Something about the Contraranures."
"Third shelf. Back."
I found a thin, poorly rolled scroll. I read quickly: they use invisibility magic, offer sacrifices, serve the demon lords. There wasn't much information. Enough.
Mira called me.
"Zirinos! This book has a drawing of an octopus. It looks like the Graylor banner."
I looked. The many‑legged octopus, black, coiling on itself.
"It's similar," I said.
"It's ugly."
"It is."
I put the scroll back in its place. Mira closed the book.
"Are we leaving?" she asked.
"We are."
---
In the room, already dark, Mira fell asleep early. The tiredness of the day and the warmth of the blanket closed her eyes in minutes.
I sat on the chair by the window. The moon was high. I thought about Trussum – the liar, the disguise, the rumours that placed him nearby. I thought about Ethan – the postponed dinner, the possible alliance, the need for strong allies. I thought about Lara, about Mára, about Néris.
'The dinner with Ethan will be another day. First, I need more information. And to keep the mask.'
I looked at Mira. Her peaceful face, her hand closed on emptiness.
'She is my mask. As long as she trusts me, no one will suspect a single thing.'
I blew out the candle.
The room went dark.
The monster does not sleep.
The monster waits.