Morningstar

“That’s not fair,” Tilray answers.

The assassin does not care. Life has never been fair, not even for him. He had seen many people die. He has been the hand that killed part of those people. He has done many things against his will. Hell, he does not even know if he has a will. He has been a numb body that is controlled by anyone except him.

“You tell me,” East answers.

Tilray turns to watch East. His face is neutral. He has huge dark circles under his eyes, but other than that, he seems fine. “Oh no,” she says. “I should have guessed. First I have to deal with the bitch and now with you.”

“Who are you calling a bitch?” Phoenix asks, leaning on her chair.

“I don’t see any other bitches in here so who might she be?” Tilray says. Phoenix jumps from her chair, but the assassin grabs her by the waist in the air.

“Let me go,” Phoenix yells, hitting him several times on the shoulders. The assassin places her down and lets go of her.

“Control yourself,” he tells her.

She looks at him firmly. “Don’t you ever touch me.” She returns to her seat.

“I would like if you all can control your tongues,” the assassin says, ignoring Phoenix’s sass and as he returns to the front of the room.

“Of course, you would like that,” Killam says. “You killed our loved ones and still expects us to follow you as the rats that you think we are.”

“That’s not fair,” Vil whispers at the end of the room. Everyone turns to face her, including the assassin.

“Speak up,” the assassin says. “I will not allow violence in here.”

“Did you want to say something?” Killam asks. The assassin can see the way that his black eyebrows furrow. He wants her to back down.

“I said that that it is not fair,” she repeats, unafraid of him. “He was hired to kill as part of the trial. I am sure that he could have killed us all, but he did not kill us. He is also in here to help us pass the trials. I do not ask for you to be friendly towards him; I only ask for you to respect him. It is the only way for us to graduate.”

“I do not–” Killam begins to say but he is interrupted.

“Can I ask you something?” Lexan asks the assassin. He nods. “Wither told me that you graduated from Nightlight. Is that true?”

“It is,” the assassin says.

There are seven academies around the land, each one led by a member of the Times. Each academy trains their students to be warriors. Each one has their trials before graduation, just like Morningstar.

“So, if we have a graduate as our mentor, there is a better chance for us to graduate,” Hakea says.

The assassin shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Every group has a mentor that graduated from one of the academies. They will have the same advantage as us.”

“Us?” Phoenix asks. “There is no us. You are not the one who is risking his life to graduate. We are!”

“Are you sure?” the assassin asks. “I do not know what the challenges are, but I know one thing for sure. I will be participating on each one with you. I can be killed just like you and if you do not pass the trial, I will be dead too.”

“Then why did you agree to be a part of this?” Slier asks.

“There are some things that you will not understand,” the assassin says. “Sometimes someone does not have any voice about something. I do not have a voice in some decisions.” He leans against the desk.

“You chose us into your team, didn’t you?” Zanna asks out of nowhere.

The assassin smiles, even though the students cannot see it under his mask. “Yes, I did.”

“Why the fuck?” Tilray shouts. “Do you like to see us suffer? Do you like us to suffer while we spend time with the murderer of our friends?”

“You are an asshole,” Phoenix tells the assassin.

“I do not deny that,” the assassin says. “I am not in here to make friends. I am in here to survive. Yes, I studied you. Yes, I chose you because I believe that you are the best of the best.”

“Ha!” Tilray says. “I might be one of the best, but half of this room is not. You left out strong people like Tulle, Odon, and Rai.”

“Ay, shut up, Tilray,” East says. “Can’t you at least pretend that you are not stuck-up for one minute?”

“Come over here and shut me,” Tilray yells.

“Gladly,” East says, standing up. Killam pulls one of his katanas out to defend Tilray. The assassin steps in the middle of them.

“If one of you hits another, I will gladly break your arms regardless of who started it,” the assassin warns.

“You think that you are all that,” Phoenix says from her chair. The assassin stares at here for a few seconds. Her blue eyes are like his, molded to be frightening. He turns and begins walking back to the front.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” he says. “You all hate me. You have reasons to hate me. Nevertheless, you need me, and I need you.” He leans against the desk. “Zanna was right. I chose every single one of you. You each bring something important to the group. You might not see it now, but you will.

“My name is Icarus, and I will be your mentor.”

***

“The ones that use long-range weapons form a group at the left and the ones that use close-range at the right,” Icarus orders.

Hakea does not hesitate to move to the right side of the room. He and Xeon are users of close-range weapons, but Agrion is not. A couple of other students move with him. He does not know most of the people in the room, but he honestly has not tried to learn their names or faces. He has learnt that one day everyone is alive and in the next, they aren’t.

“Thirteen close-range and seven long-range, not bad,” Icarus says. “And among you we have too many leaders for my liking.”

“Does this have a purpose?” Tilray asks. Her group is not next to her since they all use short-range weapons. “We are wasting time. Everyone is already training outside and you are just talking.”

“And we won’t train for a while,” Icarus says. “You need to know your strength and weaknesses. You need to know each other in order to work with each other. We won’t begin training until you do.”

“You will waste our time,” Hakea says. He remembers the assassin walking slowly, heading towards Drew. He was like a specter, coming to fetch someone’s soul. Hakea wants that memory erased from his mind.

“That’s up to you,” Icarus answers. He waves his hand. “You may return to sit where you were. I wanted to take a look at our weapon distribution.”

Hakea rolls his eyes as he heads towards his chair. He is wasting their time. He made them stand up and move around for nothing.

“Hakea, since you are eager to speak, why don’t you start?” Icarus says. “Tell me one memory that changed you.”

“When you killed Drew,” Hakea says without hesitating.

“Did it change you?” Icarus asks. “How did it change you?”

Hakea opens his mouth, but then closes it. It did not change him. Drew has not been the first person that he has seen died; he wasn’t even the first friend he saw die. Drew’s death has affected him but has not changed him.

“Why don’t you give us an example?” Phoenix asks. Hakea knows that she is testing Icarus. He loves how brave she is.

“Fine,” Icarus says. He does not care if she is challenging him. “Back when I was at Nightlight, I had this friend. It was not a normal friend; I was in love with her. I did not know it by that time. I realized it when she died, but that is not the story. The story took place one day after practice. The instructor had caught someone past curfew the previous night and sentenced us to spend a day practicing without breakfast, lunch, nor dinner.”

“Everyone has passed through that,” Tilray says.

“That night, my friend decided to sneak to the lunchroom to bring some food for us,” Icarus continued. “I accompanied her, but we got caught by Night himself. He was going to punish us, but instead I begged him to punish me and not her. He nodded, shattered my right leg, and killed her afterwards. It was the night before the assassin’s trial.”

Hakea feels his jaw drop. He opens his mouth to speak, but another girl talks. “Before the assassin’s trial? How did you survive with a broken leg?”

“That is a story for another day, Fey,” Icarus answers. “Now, will anyone share their story?” He looks for a second at Phoenix. Does he know something about her? His eyes pass her to look at the others. “No one? Then all right. I won’t force you.” He walks to the end of the classroom and opens one wooden cabinet. “Then we will play chess.”

***

“Chess?” Moneo asks. He does not think that chess will train him for something.

“Yes,” Icarus says as he hands a play mat with the chessboard and the pieces to Moneo. “Sit down with someone to play that you are not friends with.”

Moneo looks at Beta. Her brown eyes are looking down. She is disappointed that she cannot be Moneo’s partner. He places the mat and the pieces down in one table and holds her hands. He tries to memorize every detail of her like he always does. He loves her brown skin. He loves her short black hair and is combed always to the left. He loves the way that she stares at the ground when she thinks.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “It is just chess.” He turns and points at the first person that he finds. “You. Will you be my partner?”

The woman stares at him. She has black hair that reaches to her neck and somehow does not seem as if it has been combed. Her black eyes do not give away her emotion. She nods and they sit down at the nearest table.

“I’m Moneo,” he says.

“I know,” she answers as she takes the black chess pieces from him. “You are Beta’s boyfriend and the friend of Fey and Kobo.” He does not bother to ask how she knows. “I am Vil.”

“No, Phoenix,” Icarus interrupts. Moneo shifts his head to look. Phoenix is sitting down with the dirty blond man that told Icarus that he is wasting their time. If Moneo remembers correctly, his name is Hakea. “I want you and Tilray to be partners.”

“Oh, no,” Tilray shouts. “Keep her away. I do not want to get fleas.”

“I get it,” Phoenix says as she stands up. On her way towards Tilray, she stops by Icarus and whispers something. She sits down across from Tilray. “Let’s get this over with.”

“You are the first move,” Vil interrupts. Moneo returns his attention to the chessboard.

“Right,” he says and moves a pawn. “So… Is there anyone else that you know in this room?” He is bad at small talk, but he always tries to be conversionalist.

“I know everyone, but no one knows me,” Vil answers.

“Why is that?” Moneo asks.

“Because I am forgettable,” she says. “I am a ghost.”

“Well, Vil, you will not be forgettable anymore,” he says, grinning. “I will not forget your name nor your face. Consider me your first friend.”

***

Zanna is playing against the man named Kobo. He is slow. He takes his time before he makes a move. He scratches his brown hair once again before grabbing another black chess piece and settling it down again.

“How does the bishop move again?” he asks. He is not smiling. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his green eyes focused on the board. His upper fangs poke out of his mouth, biting his bottom lips but he does not seem to mind or notice.

“Diagonally as much steps as you want,” Zanna says.

“Oh, I thought that that was the one that could jump other pieces,” he says. “That must be the knight then.” He moves one of his black knights and makes the sound of a horse before smirking.

Zanna moves her bishop. “Checkmate,” she says. She had seen that move three turns ago, but she wanted to give him a chance.

“Oh, really?’ he asks. “Then let’s go to game two.”

“Zanna,” Icarus says. He has removed his cloak’s hoodie, exposing his black hair. He still has his gray mask on. “Switch places with Ilya.”

Zanna does not question him. She stands up and switches seats with Ilya, who does not bother looking at Zanna. Their groups’ rivalry continues even if Phoenix and Tilray are not present. Zanna sits down in front of a man with black hair.

“Hi…” the man says. Zanna finds a sadness in his black eyes. She does not bother asking. She does not speak of feelings. “I’m Wither.”

“Zanna,” she answers.

“Um… which ones do you want to be?” he asks. “Black or white?”

“What do you want to be?” Zanna asks.

“I-It does not m-matter what I think,” he says. Zanna thinks for a second that he is depressed. Her guess is that he must have lost someone to the hands of Icarus.

Zanna takes the black pieces. She does not like talking all that much, and apparently Wither is shy. She places them on the chessboard and waits for Wither to move. He moves a pawn and Zanna quickly moves one of her pawns. To her surprise, he moves quickly too. She moves her knight, and he moves his bishop. He is preparing for Zanna’s future moves. He is like her. They both think several moves ahead.

The game continues at a fast pace. “Check,” Wither says. She looks to his eyes, and his mouth curves.

Zanna moves her queen to protect her king, but at the same time, blocking his king from moving. In two more moves, he is done.

“You got me,” he says. “Whatever I do will not protect me from a checkmate in two moves. Want to start another game?”

Zanna smiles. “Of course,” she says. It might seem that she has found her match.

***

Icarus finally lets them go to lunch. Fey leaves with Kobo, Beta, and Moneo. Her staff is behind her back. She brought it for nothing. She thought that they were going to train, but they did not.

“I do not understand him,” Beta says. She is playing with her fork and mashed potatoes.

“Who are you talking about?” Kobo asks with a mouthful. His hamburger is almost over. It is so typical of him to eat quicker than anyone.

“Him, who else?” Beta says as she rises her head a little to point. Fey turns to find Icarus entering the lunchroom. He has placed his gray hood back on.

“We do not need to understand him,” Fey says as she watches him make his way towards the food. “Complex characters are usually the best ones.”

“But we are not learning anything,” Beta says. “I am sure that the rest of the students have already bruises from all of the fighting.”

Fey watches him grab a green apple. “I think that he knows what he is doing,” she says. “He must be. I mean, he is something. He killed exactly a hundred people in his trial. That is not luck. That is skill. He must have been keeping track of his kills in his mind.”

“Oh, no,” Moneo says, dropping his hamburger into his tray. “Don’t tell me that you have a crush on him.”

Fey shrugs. “I don’t, for the moment,” she says. She watches him sit down at an empty table and place his green apple in front of him. “But he has this dangerous vibe that really draws me in. Plus, he must be cute or even hot underneath that mask.”

“Fey–” Moneo warns.

“I am going to sit with him,” she says as she stands up. She grabs her tray and makes her way towards the table where Icarus is. “Can I sit?”

He stares at her with his icy blue eyes. “Sure,” he says. He does not sound excited nor disappointed. She pulls the chair and sits as she places the tray on the table.

Fey knows that she might be the only one who is willing to speak to Icarus on her free time.