Page 11 of Trial of the Cursed Egg

As soon as the room opens, we dart in and claim two seats in the back. Cora settles beside me, her eyes already scanning the room, probablyassessing who might be worth talking to later. I, on the other hand, can’t stop looking at the man standing at the front of the class. Stately, sharp, and eerily calm, he looks no older than we are—though there’s something ancient in the way he holds himself. His presence commands the room without a word.

He pulls a silver pocket watch from his vest, checks the time with deliberate precision, and moves to lock the doors right as the clock strikes two. The metallic click echoes, the finality settling over the room like a weighted blanket. “Rulers are considerate of others’ time. Either be early, or do not show up at all,” he says, his voice cutting through the silence with chilling finality. My stomach tightens as he writes his name on the board in an elegant, swirling script: Finlay Boaz, Phoenix.

I blink twice, stunned. My eyes flick from his name to his face—chiseled jaw, sharp cheekbones, and those eyes, fierce and blazing like embers just waiting to spark. Yeah, that tracks. Everything about him screams bird. A predator, even.

Finlay steps forward, passing out small booklets to the front row to be handed back. When it reaches me, I flip it open, my heart sinking with each page. “This is your guide for the first quarter,” he continues, his voice smooth but edged with something harder. “We will have a dinner dance at the end of the quarter to test what you and the second years have learned so far. There will be another at the end of the year as your final exam.”

I swallow hard, the words on the page blurring together as I skim through the expectations—manners, formal dining, speech etiquette, social rituals. My heart hammers in my chest as the reality of it all sinks in. This is exactly the stuff my mom tried drilling into my head for years, and I was never good at it. I can practically hear her voicescolding me, and I know, deep down, I’m screwed. And not in the good sense.

Third period ends a few minutes early, and as I step into the hallway, I spot Balor waiting. For someone as anti-social as he’s supposed to be, Cora’s brother’s friend sure has a knack for showing up at the most unexpected moments. His presence always feels like a shadow creeping up on me before I even realize he’s there. “Hi, Balor,” I murmur, eyeing him curiously as he takes my pack from my shoulder, offering me a sleek, black case in its place.

“Your betrothed asked me to give this to you,” he says matter-of-factly. “Hand crossbows aren’t permitted for this class.” His tone is casual, but the weight of his words hangs between us.Betrothed.That’s still something I’m getting used to.

I arch an eyebrow, studying him for a beat before my gaze drops to the case. It’s heavier than I expected, and as we walk, I unzip the top. Inside are three pieces of an elegant short bow. My fingers trace the carved yew limbs, their markings distinctly Elven, and I can’t help but be impressed. The riser, made of bone, is etched with intricate patterns that seem to whisper of ancient craftsmanship. It’s a stunning gift, almost too perfect.

Shaking my head, I smile, albeit faintly, as I tuck the pieces back in and reach into the front pocket, pulling out a black and green bowstring. It’s all so elaborate, so expensive. “I can’t accept this,” I protest, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s far too much.” I try to hand it back to him, but he just shakes his head.

“He’d skin me alive if I return it to him,” Balor says with a grin, though there’s an edge to his smile that tells me he’s not entirely joking. “For my personal safety, please accept it.”

I let out a sigh, reluctantly nodding. “Fine...” I mutter, clutching the case a little tighter as we approach the looming gates of Shadowcarve Campus. Its jagged silhouette cuts against the overcast sky, casting long shadows that crawl toward us. A shiver runs down my spine, not from the cold, but from the sheer foreboding of the place. I come to an abrupt stop, staring up at the ancient structure.

“Wow,” I breathe, a soft, almost incredulous laugh escaping my lips. “Reminds me of home.”

Balor glances at me, his expression somewhere between amused and concerned. “If this reminds you of home, I’m definitely concerned.” He pushes the heavy door open, and the scent of old wood and cool stone greets us like a ghost.

We step inside, and the atmosphere shifts. It’s quieter here, the quiet that hums in the background, waiting for something to disturb it. “Since you’re the only female attending, we’ve had to improvise,” Balor says, his tone light, but his words hint at the strangeness of my situation. “Here.” He turns a corner, producing a small key from his pocket and handing it to me. “This is your private space for the duration you’re here. You’ve got about twenty minutes before class starts, so get changed. There’s food and drink in the fridge.”

Balor offers me a slight bow before stepping back, leaving me alone with the key. For a moment, I just stand there, staring at it, the weight of what this means sinking in. I’m the first female to ever attend here. There’s a pressure in that knowledge, a sense of responsibility.

I unlock the door, stepping into the room. It’s simple but surprisingly comfortable—a couch, a small kitchen,and, as promised, a fridge. There’s also a desk and a bathroom, everything I need. It’s thoughtful, more than I expected. I close the door behind me and lock it, letting out a slow breath.

The realization settles in—this is just the beginning. Time to get ready. Time to write my legend.

Abraxis

Rebel’s eyesnever stray from Mina as she moves through the campus. I’ve watched him follow her all morning, even catching Arista stirring up trouble in first period. Typical. But thankfully, Kai shut it down before Mina had to step in herself. I know she could handle it—there’s fire in her like her mother—despite that; I prefer her focus on what’s ahead. Her father mentioned she didn’t bring a proper bow for the course, and I assured him I would take care of it.

Now, as I dig through my collection, memories from two decades of travel flash through my mind. Bows from forgotten battles, some scarred by flame, others by frost. But I know which one I’m after. My favorite: an elven bow with a bone riser, perfectly balanced and deadly in the right hands. It’s seen me through both mock battles and bloodied ones. I feel a pang of hesitation. Am I going too far, giving her something so personal, so tied to me? But no, she’s worthy of it.

Balor’s on his way to meet her, just outside her next class. I sent him because I don’t trust the egos and hotheads wandering these halls.Too many looking to prove themselves, and Mina doesn’t need that distraction today.

“So, we’ve got our first female taking the war route,” Callan remarks from behind his desk, his voice calm, but carrying that familiar undercurrent of curiosity.

“Not just any female—mine. Well, she will be,” I say, leaning against the windowsill, watching the path below. The afternoon sun casts long shadows across the campus, and I catch sight of Rebel as he flies through the open window, landing on my shoulder, feathers ruffling in the breeze. Balor and Mina are on their way, and my pulse quickens.

Callan offers a thoughtful nod. “I gave your second-in-command the key to the suite downstairs, so she has a private place to change and store her things. Not every day a green makes waves like this.”

I smirk, but there’s tension coiling beneath it. “Only in color. She’s got her mother’s iron will—an iron dragon in all but name. Clever and vicious, with the hard scales to back it up. Her breath weapon, though … I’m not sure what it is yet.” My chest tightens. The uncertainty gnaws at me; I can only hope to find out sooner rather than later.

The door creaks open, and Balor steps in, his face serious as always. “Your betrothed is downstairs, eating and getting changed. She loved the bow you sent.”

There’s a subtle release of breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Which one did you give her?” Callan asks, stepping away from his desk to peer out the window, scanning the Shadowcarve courtyard below.

“The Elven one, with the bone riser. I added half a dozen matched arrows to the case, as well.” I bite the inside of my lip. Was it too much? Too soon?

The thought lingers, heavy in the air. I’ve entrusted her with a piece of me, a weapon that’s become part of my story. I only hope the bow serves her as well as it has me.

Callan follows me downstairs as the soft murmur of students fills the air, thickening with anticipation. The moment my boots hit the stone courtyard, my voice booms through the open space, vibrating through the pillars.

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