Eren heaved his suitcase up the narrow staircase. The building was ancient, its stone walls weathered. He paused at the top landing, catching his breath and glanced down the hallway to find his room number etched in shiny brass on a glossy wooden door. This was to be his room. After the banquet, The Ten were to move into their quarters at the Academy—a single building meant to house them all, Saints and Terrors alike. Eren made the trip back to Silas’s house that night to gather what personal effects he could. He did not own much to begin with, which, admittedly, made things easier, but which also made him sad. Following his mother’s death, Eren was moved around a lot. He made himself unlearn the notion of ownership. It was too painful feeling like he finally belonged to a place, finally owned something, only to be ripped away and sent to a new home. The professor found him in his room that morning, stuffing his bag full of shirts from the wardrobe. Even though the doo
The grand dining hall was just as Eren would have expected it to be — quaint. The room was adorned with towering marble columns at its four corners. Paintings hung from the walls depicting ancient battles, war heroes and politicians. One painting of a beautiful woman, half-fish, half-person, sitting on a beach floor, swallowed one quarter of the wall. A vaulted ceiling that echoed every sound in the room completed the look. All around them was white, aseptic alabaster. Eren tried to not be awed, but failed. The finery made the professor’s house seem like a kennel in comparison. He scanned the room filled with faces he knew too well. Tiana, the Dennin twins, Drake, Daniel, Gaine, Kathlyn, Sithel. They were all seated around the dining table which was an enormous circle of burnished oak, covered in intricate carvings. Oddly, Samantha Dennin seemed to be addressing them. Eren’s brows furrowed and he slid into the empty chair next to Sithel. Samantha acknowledged Ere
Sleep came slowly for Eren, and, when it did come, it was fitful. He spent half the night tossing and turning in his new bed. It was dawn before he fell asleep. Too soon, the sun rose and blindingly, bright light tore through the drapes. Eren’s eyes snapped open. His clock read 7: 45 in red, digital figures. Eren struggled out of bed and got into the shower. It was the first day of class and he was late. Tardiness was not the best, first impression. He hurried into his clothes and down the stairs, only to find Sid waiting for him at the bottom of the stairway in the shared living room. While the Saints and Terrors rooms were split, they shared a living room and the dining area. “Morning, sleepyhead.” Sid said, handing him a Styrofoam cup. Eren sniffed the contents of the cup suspiciously. The liquid was warm against the thin material. “What is this?” “What the hell do you think? Coffee.” “With you, there are so many things I can imagine.” Eren slurped the liquid
“Now, attack me.” Zachary said. Eren raised a brow at his supposed teacher. The rest of the Ten paused and stared at the man in various states of surprise. “What?” Gaine asked, his shock poorly concealed. “Uncle, you cannot be serious.” Zachary never took his eyes off Eren. “I am.” The Ten made a small space for Eren and Zachary in the middle of the sparring room. Eren’s heart was pounding in his chest. But whatever it was, he was certain this feeling was not fear. Zachary shoved his dagger into its sheath and faced Eren unarmed. He spread his arms open, as if to make himself a larger target. This time, Eren did not wait for him to ask again. Neither did he hesitate. He rushed forward and when he was a heartbeat away from Zachary, he shoved the keen end of the katana at the man’s neck. Except Zachary was no longer there. He dodged to the side easily. Eren spun in the direction in which he had gone and slashed at him. Again, Zachary easily evaded him. They carried on
The second day was even more grueling than the first. Diane Grandville was their instructor for the day and as usual, she looked the part. Her dark hair was gathered in a no-nonsense ponytail. She wore cargo pants, combat boots, and a tank top that showed off the sinew in her arms. She had a high forehead and hollow cheeks that made her look like an exotic cat. They were made to gather in a hall much like the sparring room. Eleven lecterns had been installed into the floor, each for one trainee and one of Diane. She began. “Today, we will learn the art of MANNA control. MANNA is, at the end of the day, what sets you apart from the average person. Controlling this gift is not a skill to be taken lightly, as it requires focus, discipline, and dedication.” As the lesson progressed, Diane showed them how to channel their MANNA. Her clan had the ability to control aspects of time, she told them. Due to the delicate nature of their ability an almost surgical control of MANNA is
Many days passed with Eren waiting for instructions from Silas and Vatican Sol. Many, many days of silence came and went. In the beginning, he was perpetually anxious. What if he missed their messages when they eventually came? What if they had come and he simply had not gotten them?Every night, he refreshed his communicator, waiting. For his own safety, they made it such that he could not reach them. Only they could get to him when they wanted. In the meantime, Eren started spending more time with Sid and Tiana. It became his routine. After the day’s classes, he spent the evening with Tiana and Gaine—a strange new addition to the group—in Sid’s room trading stories. Half the time, Tiana was horrified at the things they had done in their childhood, but it made for good laughter. Some evenings were spent outdoors. The Academy had lots of space—the ideal place if you were a wanderer, and Tiana was just that. They tended to follow her most evenings. Some days, they sensed sh
Placements began a week after Eren's successful infiltration of Zachary’s place.The first grouping was carried out. Gaine and Drake were paired together. Eren found himself in the same group as Samantha and Sid. Anxiety was a hand around his thorax, throttling him.Eren’s team chose a minor guarding duty, categorized as a Grade 1 mission— a simple task. Their assignment was to patrol the perimeter of a small, yet crucial, outpost for a week. It was monotonous work, often tiresome, with long hours of standing watch.After a grueling week, the mission was complete. The trio returned, their spirits somewhat dampened. Each was awarded a silver star, a symbol of their completion of a Grade 1 mission. Eren looked at his star and the shimmering silver seemed to mock him. The Grade 1 missions, though manageable, were not yielding the rewards he had hoped for. He knew that for more substantial recognition and advancement, they needed to tackle Grade III missions, which promised three
The warehouse was even worse than it looked in the photos. It was the last place a super-abled person had attempted an attack, and it had been abandoned for months since then. A chunk of the roof had been ripped off clean and one section of the wall had been blown in, as if knocked down with a sledge hammer. There were also untouched boxes of goods lying around in various states of ruin, and most of the building was charred. Eren touched the wall and his hand came away covered in soot. He sniffed the black powder. “The report said nothing about the building being burned,” Samantha said from behind him. She was down on her haunches, examining marks on the ground. The markings led all the way into the warehouse, as if someone with very hard legs had walked into it, breaking the very ground beneath them as they walked. “Strange,” Drake offered. “This place was definitely fried.” He had spent most of the investigation ignoring Eren and keeping to himself. A welcome