Page 48

"You mistake disobedience for compassion because it sounds more flattering." I keep walking.

"You will return home." The path darkens beneath my feet.

"You will explain why you were not prepared."

I count my breaths. One. Two. Three.

"Eirea." The voice is directly behind me.

I do not turn. My father never calls after people. He expects them to return. The illusion has details. Not understanding. I continue.

His voice fades. The forest becomes quiet again. My bracelet records nothing. That feels significant. The path divides near midday. Two directions. No marker. No visible difference. I kneel near the intersection. The right path holds fresh footprints. Several students, perhaps. The left remains undisturbed.

Following the footprints could mean finding others. It could also mean following an illusion specifically designed for that purpose. I touch the impressions. The soil is cool. One print is narrow. Another deeper, shaped by a heavier boot. Real enough. I choose the right.

Twenty steps later, the footprints vanish. Not gradually. All at once. I look back. Still there behind me. Gone ahead. I crouch again. Something is wrong with their spacing. Perfectly even. Every stride identical. No one walks that precisely through an uneven forest. Another false path. I retrace my steps.

At the intersection, I take the left. A bell rings somewhere in the distance. One note. Low. I cannot tell whether it marks time, progress or another illusion. The forest offers no explanation.

I find the first real person shortly afterward. A wolf boy stands in the center of the path holding his own wrist. His bracelet glows red. He looks up when I approach.

"Don't come closer."

I stop. "What happened?"

"I tried to take it off."

"Why?"

He looks down again. "It told me to."

I glance at the bracelet. The silver number has disappeared beneath a pulsing crimson line.

"What told you?" I ask.

"The marker." He points behind him.

A stone pillar stands beside the path. Words glow across it. REMOVE YOUR IDENTIFICATION TO CONTINUE. That directly contradicts Professor Vale's instruction. Any attempt to remove, damage or alter the bracelet results in automatic failure.

The wolf's face has gone pale.

"It wouldn't open. Then it burned me."

I approach the marker without touching him.

"Did the bracelet tell you that you failed?"

He shakes his head. "No."

I smile slightly. "Then perhaps you didn't."

He thinks for a few seconds. "It's red."

"That could mean injury."

"Or failure." He says.

"Yes."