I didn’t realize things had changed at first.

  Life had fallen into something almost resembling routine. Training, school, dungeons. Nights spent moving quietly through streets that pretended not to see what was happening beneath them.

  Then the dream with Nythris came.

  Not a vision this time. No grand revelation. Just her presence lingering longer than usual — like a thought that refused to leave once it had settled in.

  Shortly after, Cecilia approached me with an offer.

  She wanted access to the booklet. Not ownership — instruction. In return, she would look the other way. Any healing done without sanction. Any intervention that technically didn’t exist.

  I didn’t answer her immediately.

  I brought it to Jerek and Mariel instead. I told them everything — the booklet, the nights, the lines I’d already crossed. I expected hesitation. Resistance. Especially from Jerek.

  But he surprised me.

  He called it practical.

  Mariel agreed. Quietly, but firmly. Neither of them trusted Cecilia — but they trusted me more than they feared the alternative.

  So I accepted.

  By then, more of the booklet had begun to open to me. I was fifteen, and nearly four-fifths of it was readable now. Most of it focused on refinement — blade work, positioning, precision. How to end a fight cleanly. How to ensure a kill.

  It never clarified what qualified as a monster.

  I chose not to dwell on that.

  The years passed quickly after Emberroot. Eric guided us through more dungeons, harder ones each time.

  Jerek took to weight training after some convincing — once he realized how it translated to control behind a shield, he committed fully.

  Mariel continued to grow, her lucen magic steady and elegant. In many ways, she was ahead of both of us.

  From the outside, things probably looked calm.

  They weren’t.

  The nights gave me somewhere to put the anger I couldn’t afford to show during the day. I was careful. No unnecessary force. No bodies left behind. Just freeing. Just healing.

  At least, that’s how I justified it.

  Then I learned the world had noticed.

  That was until I got a nickname.

  When Jerek and Mariel arrived at my house to walk to school we were in good spirits. But when we got near the empire we saw a piece of paper with a figure in the picture.

  It was someone who saw me, they brought it to the eyes of the empire.

  “I’m gonna go clothes shopping after school.” I said low to Jerek and Mariel.

  They both nodded. “Mhm.”

  When we got to school we heard whispers and people spreading rumors about it. It had been that way for weeks, but it was more surreal now that I had seen the posters.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Cecilia was holding up her end of the deal. Even claims she told the emperor she healed the cleansing caravan, simply that it was too little of magic for it to be any amount of a significant problem.

  The people didn’t believe that.

  They believed it was “The Coalescence of Midnight” who was causing trouble.

  I remember Nythris saying she had many names, is this the bullshit she meant?

  In any case, that name wasn’t sticking. I heard a few others, and none of them were at all good.

  Rona had left back when me and Mariel took care of the first caravan. Her parents were on the caravan, and like most of the people who were on that they left town.

  When you’re marked to be killed there is little to no desire to stick around and wait for them to come back, so naturally they took Rona with them.

  Similar stuff had happened periodically with the work I was doing at night. No more killings happened, and Cecilia wasn’t cleaning up after my work so I was extra careful.

  I had a class about morvain magic, where I for the most part wasn’t paying attention. My mind was closing in on the formal dance.

  Every year there is a dance in the winter solstice that comes alongside the new year. We’re expected to wear our school uniforms as they consist of a tie, button up shirt, and vest. However our appearance is judged on what coat we wear.

  If a man is trying to present his best he will wear a dress coat, if he has little care for the event he’d wear a casual jacket.

  The reason that interests me is because for the first time in my life I’m going to ask Mariel to do this event with me. I don’t know much about love, but I do know that I would be a fraction of who I am if not for her.

  After class I went to the library to research how to make my own jacket. I figured black would look best with embroidery on the back. I wanted it to be simple, sleek, and presentable.

  I did this a few times throughout the weeks and when there was a month left before the event I had to ask her sooner than later.

  I was in the same sword class as Mariel. Although we fought with different stances, we were the same level of our respective stances. And the academy didn’t have too many like us. This class was mostly for the soon-to-be graduates.

  There were only about six people in the class, but my eyes rarely drifted away from Mariel.

  I’d pay attention to the professor first and foremost, and I completed all my assignments, but she constantly caught my gaze.

  Our professor told us to spar. We were one on one, and Mariel was my spar partner.

  When we were on opposite sides of our training grounds I saw the determination in her eyes. I was over here in awe like an idiot and she truly held her focus.

  We drew our training swords and began.

  Her style of the sword revolves around mostly footwork, whereas mine consists of momentum.

  My sword started by my side pointing towards the ground and held in one hand. As I walked closer, her stance remained with her sword pointing to the sky, with both hands gripped firmly at the handle, and approaching slower than I was.

  Polar opposite stances.

  I reached her first and we exchanged attacks, parries, and footwork. Naturally her defense was superior to mine, and my attack was superior to hers. She was quick to get out of attacks, and I counterattacked with more force than she could.

  It felt almost like a dance.

  Not a single word was uttered, but it felt like we were talking.

  We were told to stop by the professor so we could head back inside and prepare for going to our next classes.

  Mariel and I trickled in behind everyone else.

  “Hey, so I was thinking.” I started.

  She looked at me. “What’s up?”

  I hadn’t thought of step two. “Did anyone ask you to the formal yet?”

  She nodded. “Yes, two other men did. I told them both no and that I had a date already.”

  My heart slumped just the same as my shoulders did.

  She put her hands on my shoulders. “Silly, I meant you were my date. I knew you’d ask once you worked up the courage.” She said with a warm smile.

  I adjusted my posture and nodded. “I–yeah. Well, thank you Mariel.”

  She nodded and we went to our next classes, it felt like the weird sensation that came along with the nickname Coalescence of Midnight had left for the most part.

  As if talking to Mariel was grounding me in realism.

  I bought the supplies I needed for my dress coat. I wanted something neutral but still showing life. Simplistic but revealing. Black with silver embroidery was the way to go.

  I made my way home and finished my studies and began creating my dress coat. From neck to the ankles beneath my weight

  The learning of the creation of clothing for one event seemed insignificant. But it was far from that.

  I spent all night at work. It was dark out, and a light appeared outside my window. Far in the distance. That was how Cecilia signaled it was time for a chat.

  Although the light was far away, her magic is just what was far away, she herself was up on the roof. Reluctantly — I made my way to the roof.

  “Boy.” She started.

  I adjusted my neck, it was killing me from sewing. “Yeah.”

  She approached. “You were careless.”

  I was confused. “What?”

  She shook her head. “Look boy. The agreement was you teach me the book, and you do a little community service. Not brand yourself for the empire as a named vigilante. You moron.”

  Without seeing myself I knew I had a dumb look on my face. “I’m sorry.” Was all I could muster up.

  Her eyes felt like daggers into my soul. “I can’t remove your new nickname. I can, however, give you advice. So listen closely idiot.”

  I nodded.

  “You will do exactly what I say. You will not do any more acts of kindness for thirty days. You need this to die on its own. The empire won’t ever forgive or forget the coalescence. But they may care less if you’re less active.”

  I adjusted my neck again.

  She turned to the city but was still close to me. “I know it’ll be tough, but you can resume when it’s less obnoxious. Do me a solid, even if it looks dire. Ignore it.”

  Then she jumped away to the ground, and when I looked to the ground where she jumped too she was gone.

  “Why though?” I asked to absolutely no one.

  I pondered what she could’ve been thinking but I didn’t understand. I just went back inside and finished my work. Even falling asleep was hard. I knew I was defying the empire, but this was a lot of unwanted attention.