A Guide to Surviving Against Monsters

After warning Professor Michaelson about Malekai's troubles this morning, us supervising hunters settled in with the students in the lecture hall. We sat in a row at the very back, watching over everyone. Malekai was only two rows down and a few seats to the side, occasionally peeking at me when he thought I wasn't looking. My hair was back over my eye, keeping it safely obscured. Wendy and I had gone back to my apartment so I could change my shirt, and I ended up with a pale pink one by accident.

"Alright, hunters," the professor began. "Time to do a little review. What are the three realms?"

A tall, model-looking brunette raised her hand.

"Yes?"

"The first realm is the Surface, as in Earth, also known as where we live. The second is the Fallen realm for demons and monsters. The monsters we hunt come from that realm. The last," she smiled as if the idea made her hopeful, "is the realm of angels and pure spirits; the Celestial realm."

"Good, as always," Michaelson said, "but does anyone remember the leaders of the other two realms? We don't mention them that much since they never interact with the Surface, however..."

He trailed off, but I knew immediately what he wanted to mention. They are the most powerful beings we hunters will ever pray to never meet.

"Anyone?"

Silence.

"Maybe our seven alumni?"

The others looked anywhere but the professor. When we were in school, the leaders of the Celestial and Fallen realms weren't mentioned for more than a single lecture.

However, I happened to have a few unique experiences.

I raised my hand.

"Ms. Foxit?"

Surprised glances passed my way.

"Unlike beliefs in the past, there is no devils or gods ruling the more obscure realms," I began, "but instead, they are two kings. There is the King of Demons and the dead in the Fallen realm, who is said to be an angel turned evil. Then, in the Celestial realm, is the King of Angels and the living. His--"

I cut myself off. That fact will stay with me, because otherwise, I will never be able to explain that away.

"Excellent, Emmalyn. At least one hunter knows their stuff."

Wendy, who sat beside me, blushed at the call out. I snickered, shaking my head at them.

"Alright then," Michaelson continued, "who knows what happens with a spirit when it isn't pure?"

Malekai was the one who raised his hand. "They either go to the Fallen realm or become vengeful and remain stuck here in Aurina."

"And?"

"And..," he glanced my way, "they attack the living."

"That's the average knowledge. Does anyone know how they do it? Since they're common monsters, this information will be on your final exam."

The brunette from before, who was obviously the most studious, raised her hand. She was beaten to it by Malekai, who kept babbling.

"A spirit picks a soul and marks the person's body," he explained, his professor looking shocked. "That mark lets the spirit track their target until they can harvest the soul. And, to break that bond, you need to perform a banishing ritual."

Michaelson crossed his arms, leaning onto his podium. "That's a lot more than I expected you to know, Malekai."

That was a lie. Michaelson knew that Malekai had an encounter with one today.

The teacher's eyes met mine.

Michaelson opened his mouth to say something, and my eyes narrowed. He cut himself off, awkwardly looking away.

"Why don't we get into some physical work?" He offered. "To the gym with you lot, come on."

The seven of us followed along, walking behind the class of to-be hunters. Theo was hanging around me, and I felt him staring at the side of my head. Probably wondering if I was about to lose my balance and pass out. Wendy walked beside me, nudging me every so often and giggling like we weren't on a serious job at the moment.

The Academy's gym hadn't changed a bit. It still had a section of ropes hanging from the ceiling for climbing, mats for sparring, and several other sections of workout equipement. There was a line of water fountains on one wall, and dozens of fans. The students disappeared into the changerooms, the seven of us graduates standing off to the side. I eyed the ropes, remembering my first time trying to climb those shitty things.

Pure torture.

That's why I shrugged off my coat and my rig, going down to my bare feet, pants and pink t-shirt. The other hunters watched curiously as I strode to the ropes. They were excruciatingly long, and I stood at the base of one with an expressionless stare.

"What is she doing?"

My attention flipped to the students standing with their teacher by the doors. I winked, grabbing the first knot. Grunting, I heaved myself up. The actual exercise was to climb the rope using your hands and feet and to work on doing it quicker each time. However, I forced my legs to cross and kept them tightly together, leaving me with my hands alone. My stomach throbbed, though it wasn't my vanished wound that hurt. It was my actual muscles that screamed from the effort of heaving myself up with my arms. The strong rope bit into my palms, leaving them bright red.

Those down below gasped as I passed the halfway mark, sweat rolling down my forehead.

Once I got to the top, I realized I had no intention of climbing back down. I surveyed the gym floor, spotting one of the cushioned mats used for jumping exercises. With a grin, I swung my legs back and forth to gather speed. People were whispering, trying to guess as to what I was doing until I finally swung backward, letting go of the rope and flipping down toward the mat. It broke my fall, as did the somersault I did out of it.

Weston clapped as I straightened up, brushing my palms against my pants. They were already healed, the skin smooth like a baby's.

"Show off!" Mateo called. I snorted, backing off so that Michaelson could lead his class.

The seven of us sat criss-crossed in a little circle while the professor began instructing his class. We chatted quietly, and Mateo kept trying to get me to play rock, paper, scissors with him.

"So, what weapon do you guys specialize in?" Weston asked the group. His bow was slung across his back once again.

Luca shrugged. "I favour guns."

"Katanas," Theo jumped in. "Mateo likes handguns."

His cousin nodded along.

Wendy considered it before shrugging. "I guess throwing knives. I'm mostly focused on medical tasks and knives are always useful."

Miles, the bubbly ginger, perked up. "I prefer things like brass knuckles or nunchucks. Close combat type stuff. Plus, things that I carry around can get in the way of a quick escape so I generally prefer my fists or small weapons."

I nodded along with his answer. I'd been stuck in an air vent once, weighed down by the sword I'd brought along.

"Emmalyn?"

They were all looking at me, waiting for my answer.

"Oh," I frowned, "I guess daggers. Not throwing knives, but ones for close combat."

"And purple magic voodoo," Miles teased. I rolled my eyes, glancing at the class of rowdy almost-hunters.

"How many are going to survive, do you think?" I blurted, not checking to see if the others heard me.

"Maybe half," Luca grunted.

"Definitely more than that," Mateo protested, ever the optimist. Theo didn't answer.

"I'd say a few above half," Wendy added hesitantly. She was more optimistic than usual.

Weston was the one who sighed. "I don't want to guess," he said, avoiding the grim answer.

"You want to know what I think?"

"Emmalyn..?"

I could hear a question in Wendy's voice.

The question of; are you okay?

Ha. Never have been.

"I think we'll be able to save fourteen of them. Two for each of us."

I twisted back to stare at the floor in the center of our circle.

"The rest will be six feet underground."