“So the upperclassmen pressure the students into silence so they can act however they want,” I said.
Yasmine rubbed her arm to dispel her chills. “Yeah, that’s the world of the elite. Rules don’t apply to them. If you don’t make it, you’re out, like the five percent of students who drop out.”
“Their commander and strategist will be Levi Delombre, which means we can expect him to be as ruthless as he’s been in previous years,” Sylas continued. “We’ll need to outsmart him. I know how he thinks, and, with his ego, he’s unlikely to chase students in the field. Last year, during the Tacticians match against the Guardians, he stayed in his control tower and guided his team through security cameras to locate their opponents. We can’t allow that this year. They’re already underestimating us; it’s time to show all the houses what we’re truly capable of.”
The Unifiers had placed last for four consecutive years; we were the easy target.
“What’s your plan, boss?” a student yelled.
“You’ll leave your phones in your dorms. I’ve taken the liberty of ordering smoke machines to disorient them. We’ll create a smoke cloud around us. It’ll be difficult for them to determine our direction at the departure point, giving us a few minutes’ advantage.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. Each house was playing on their strengths. The Pioneers would undoubtedly charge headfirst, unafraid of confrontation. The Guardians would disappear. The Tacticians would establish a concrete strategy. That left us following Sylas’s plan to leverage our group’s strength and creativity to hope for the best.
“In the meantime, I need a brave soul to infiltrate the enemy lines. This person will have to enter their common room without being caught and turn off the electric generator of the Tacticians building. It will provide the opportunity for us to hide and disrupt Levi’s plans. Who’s up for it?”
Several hands shot up in the air.
“Your risk of being captured is high. Therefore, You will have to participate in games that the opposing team has planned for you and succeed if you want to be freed. Hazing lasts until midnight, and you have a good chance of coming face-to-face with Levi.”
All hands were instantly lowered.
“No volunteers?” Sylas sighed.
I clenched my fists. I did not like violence, but violence existed in this world. I had seen it firsthand the day my mother died. Violence had taken what was the most precious to me. I was raised to ignore it and avoid it, but it never led me anywhere.
“I’ll do it,” I said, raising my hand.
“What the heck, Dalia?” Yas’s voice perched.
“I’m not scared of Levi, and it’s about time he gets a taste of his own medicine. I’m tired of being a victim.”
“Then it’s time I put all my survival knowledge from my mafia books into practice.” Yas always had a way of comparing fiction with reality—it was one of the things I adored about her. She squinted her eyes, raising her hand. “I’ll go with her.”
We exchanged a knowing smile, united in our resolve.
Sylas hesitated, briefly opening his mouth before closing it with a frown. “Are you both sure?”
“Yes,” we replied in unison.
After all, my family’s legacy was warfare.
It was about time I played a part in it.
Levi Delombre, if it’s war you want, then it’s war you’ll get.
I strolled back from the computer lab and found myself taking a detour by the music building on my way to our chess club. It was midnight, and a blanket of silence had settled over the university. While the solitude and darkness were oddly comforting, a sanctuary from the chaos of my brain, the silence was always dreadful.
I’d noticed a feeble light in the music studio, and like fate would have wanted, I followed the light, a whisper of music catching my attention.Violin. The hair on my skin hissed like a predator alert of danger.
“Well, look at that,” I muttered to myself, making my mind believe this stalker move was all an unfortunate coincidence.
I halted before the grand doors, fixed on the silhouette of my broken doll playing the violin. She stood in the center of the deserted room, bathed in the moonlight filtering through the windows. The star-studded night sky was her backdrop, constellations twinkling like precious gems around her. She was wholly devoted to her music, her bow sliding gracefully across the violin strings. The notes carried a sense of tragedy that could rival Shakespeare’s most sorrowful tales.
So she’d somehow managed to replace her broken violin.
It had been more than four years since I’d heard her music, and it should have stayed that way.
I hate her.
