Staring into my bathroom mirror, I smudged a thumb across the darkened skin.

For the third consecutive day, I'd dozed off while studying. Now, soft granuals of pigmented charcoal marred my cheeks like a puckered tattoo.

"**_Nox erat et toto sidera_**..." _Latin_.

_"_**_She'veę req ouli a_**_..." Kabralhi._

**_"It was night and all the stars_**_..." English._

Across my face, all three written translations had become smeared and illegible.

You see, since my arrival, the department had never bothered to keep their distain for me a secret. On the contrary, The Fray had done everything within their power to make my life a living hell.

Even today, my professor had halted me as she dismissed the class.

"_Ayra_, you don't seem to be as attentive during my lecture as the other students."

Her lipstick-stained teeth flashed with each snarled word.

"That may be the standard with _your kind_, but you know that The Fray demand excellence. I'm assigning you an out-of-class project, and if you're unable to complete it, I'll be forced to end your retainment here."

And so, while my colleagues spent their weekends in the Sparring Commons or Campus Arboretum, I had been relegated to translating one thousand lines of the Illiad into English and _Kabralhi_.

Loudly enough for me to hear, a student had whispered, "She's lucky to even receive this much grace" as another boy, a Grifter with coiled silver hair, had snapped his cold eyes in my direction. I'd kept my head low as his black daggers carved into my back.

Though ethnically _Fray_, Grifters were those born with strange and unsettling features -- red eyes, silver hair, odd markings, and so on. For a long time, they'd been unjustly persecuted by the Uppers. But somehow, even the _untouchables_ of The Fray had elected to spitting at my feet.

The assignment was only a veiled threat after all. _Everything_ was here. Though native-bornes hadn't spoken it for centuries, _Kabralhi_ was the undisputed tongue of The Fray. In that, each task I received stood as an admonishment.

While you're here, you must live like us. Speak like us. Hammer us down your throat until your voice has turned Fray. _Foreigners are not welcome_.

For these reasons, I mostly tried to stay under the radar in class. I was thorough in completing my schoolwork. In performing _well_ _enough_.

Just as taught, I made sure to only raise my hand to the questions others knew, even as the Headmaster purposefully overlooked me. And, should she ever dare to call, I was cautious not to overexplain. I was succinct and meek. I never argued when corrected, even as I was given every reason for doing so.

I was careful.

The Elders had always warned me that anything less than perfect would get me killed. And

further, that perfection, uncontested perfection, could draw a fate far worse.

"_There are many things more terrifying than death_..." one Elder used to tremble.

_"You won't understand until you've seen it._"

There were rumors that the last foreigner brought to The Fray, Ekele Adoro, had ranked #1 in every sector as a first year. Not long after that, a body was found upside-down in The Culpit with its tongue staked to the floor.

And so, over the last few months, I had fought against the feeling of slowly withering away -- hollowing out from the stress of fear and sleep deprivation and tip-toeing. I reminded myself that this was life or death.

They _wanted_ nothing more than to break me. They _wanted_ to use me as the example for my relatives -- a justification to upholding _The Severance_. To subjugation.

I felt for the necklace hanging from my neck. My fingers rubbed across the intricate grooves, the pear-shaped teardrop thumping softly above my heart.

I brought the fissured grey orb to my lips, closing my eyes as I willed it for strength. When I retracted, an edge snagged on my bottom lip causing bright red blood to wet my chin. I swiped my tongue across the dead skin.

"_Keep this with you, Ayra. Let it breathe for you._" My mother's voice had cried when she cast her prayer into the odd jewelry.

_Let it breathe for you_.

I'd always wondered what she meant.

The memories I had of my late mother were few and far between, spread thin between the Elders' fables and the sparce interactions I'd had with her as an infant. Still, I'd decided for myself that her necklace would represent my seedling of hope - what our people called "_O'se"_. It was an ideal I'd tethered myself to in place of fear.

I looked at the smeared blood staining my mother's heirloom before giving myself another once over in the mirror.

**_O'se.

_****_O'se.

_****_O'se. _**

Though, mostly hidden behind wide frames, the light bruising beneath my eyes was unmistakable. My afro of curly hair was matted and untamed and the rims of my eyes offered a gradient of scarlet. With the state I was in, the painted black marks adorning me looked almost intentional.

I bared my teeth, wondering if I likened the mythical creatures from all those stories I'd been forced to translate. A centaur or Chimaira. _Cheiron_. _Thetis_. _Leucrocotta_. _Adze_. All the mystical folklore from ancient Anatolia to West Africa.**_

_**

Then, delirious but determined, I grabbed a new piece of charcoal from the desk.

Without so much as cleaning my cheeks, I went back to work. I deciphered the epic metaphors of Achilles and the dark promises of Hera. I worked until the sunlight dimmed at my window, ushering in pools upon pools of glowing moonlight. I worked until my fingers grew numb and my eyes slowly teased shut. By the time my necklace began to throb against my chest, I'd already unknowingly drifted into a world of neverending night.

"**_Nox erat_**..." _Latin_.

_"_**_She'veę req_**_..." Kabralhi._

**_"It was night_**_..." English._

...

_When the blackness enveloped me, it pulsed though space like a heartbeat, thrumming across my being in vibratory waves. _

_The world crashed around like a waterfall, gushing and flooding in a tumultuous current. It was alive -- inhaling in sync with the dark, swallowing the silence in a powerful tempest._

_And it smelled almost sweet, a heavy sweetness that filled my throat and wet my tongue, overcoming my entire body with the sensation._

_Almost imperceptibly, the darkness nipped at my skin. The feeling was painless, like the soft prick of an insect. An itch. _

_At first, it curled from my fingers and wrists, snaking up each frozen limb. But then, the sparks quickened up my torso, racing between shoulder blades and igniting my nervous system. It wasn't until they reached the cage of my chest, in a grand surge of energy, that the air was forcefully knocked from my lungs. _

_Pressure suddenly gripped at my neck, an unyielding constriction, as I fought desperately for air. The arms of smoke choked me, lapping at my veins with murderous intent, singeing hot coals into my skin. _

_In a panic, I attempted to reach for my throat, desperate to pry away each tendril of darkness. I was terrified to find that my arms remained paralyzed in place. _

_Reality set in like a forest fire._

_'I'm going to die.'_

_'I'm going to die.'_

_'I'm going to die.'_

_'I'm going to...'_

_But then, slowly, and then all at once, the pressure and fear wracking me dulled to an all-consuming calm. The waves of night settled, dampening from a roar to the softest ripple, and the darkness trembled into stillness._

_At first, there was nothing._

_Then, there was only silver..._

_Beautiful, silver eyes glowing hypnotically through the black, reflecting through space like a cluster of constellations. _

_The eyes watched me carefully, unblinking in the darkness._

_Little by little, the thick sweetness clouding the air transformed, replaced by something natural and coppery. _

_"_**_Your fate is sealed_**_..." A low, gravelly voice thundered. _

_The air rumbled back into a steady thrum, a rhythmic heartbeat, before a sharp _**_crack_**_ carved through the quiet. _

_In a mosaic of silver, the blackness was shredded by a flood of stars. Like a broken levy, it poured into my vision until nothing remained but white hot blinding light._

Then my eyes fluttered open.

_..._

_"_Y-you_...." _

When I awoke, a pair of familar black eyes stared down at me inquisitively.

I searched my memory before finally connecting them to the Grifter from class, a wreath of shocking silver coils and dark bronzed skin. His hair had been braided back into neat cornrows, empasizing the craftsman-like sculpt of his features.

Full lips and high cheekbones. Thick, furrowed

eyebrows. Inky black eyes -- widened eyes that were now concentrated on me in horror.

_Had he come to kill me?_

I realized suddenly that, with my current position, combat was unlikely. My body still felt affected by my dream, slowed and groggy as if I'd been drugged.

So, before the Grifter could pounce, I threw what energy was left in my body against him. After grabbing under the desk for my hunting knife, I held the sharpened metal to the skin of his jawline. Then, with all the strength I could muster, I used my hips to pin him against the countertop.

"Speak!" I growled.

Without so much as fighting back, the Grifter eyed me as if _I_ were the intruder and _he'd_ caught me in his own dwelling.

His lips formed the words as if casting a spell.

"You're...a **_Feedling_**."

"A _what_?"

His eyes continued to search me as if I were a wild animal.

_'Don't draw attention...'_

The Elders had warned.

_'Don't make a scene.'_

"You should be making the case for your life, not accusations_, Grifter._"

I raised the knife slowly as I spoke. Holding his stare, I grazed its metal along the hollow of his neck, feathering it at the bow of his adam's apple.

Seemingly unaffected, the Grifter's coal eyes only lifted to meet my own. From this distance, his gaze was almost punishing.

"_Ayra_..." his softened voice lulled.

_He knows my name?_

I tightened my grip on the knife's sheath, adjusting my posture. I suppose it's not too surprising he'd studied the foreigner he'd intended to murder in her sleep.

"Ayra..._Look_.." he murmured, testing each word. His eyes wandered to something over my shoulder.

I noted that he pronounced my name in a dialect uncommon to Fray. The sounds rolled from his lips in a velvety hum.

Surely, this was an attempt to distract me.

_"Ayra..." _He begged again,_ "_You've got to_-"_

My curiosity betrayed me as I shifted our bodies to subtlely gaze from my peripheral.

But nothing could have prepared me for what I would see on my bedroom floor.

**_O'se.

_****_O'se.

O'se.

_**The bodies of four Fray, if you could even still call them that, were charred and jumbled across a blackened carpet. Though the figures were badly burnt, the redolence of something sweet masked the stench of smoke and flesh.

**_

_****_"_**W-What? N-no...no..."

I jumped back from the stranger in shock, pushing him away as I scrambled for the open window.**_

_****_

_**_"_Ayra_, please listen.._."

As a large hand found my shoulder, l spun around. The knife extended before me in decided intent to defend myself.

The Grifter jumped back right in the knick of time, narrowly avoiding the tine of my blade.

"You killed them? You intend to do that...to _me_?" I accused, red flashing through my vision.

He looked at me wearily, "...No."

"_You_ killed them." I repeated loudly, voice raising to a frantic shout.

"_Shh_...No...No. We don't have much time."

The man lunged forward suddenly, capturing both wrists above me with a strength that seemed immovable. I wondered then if he'd only been entertaining my earlier attempts to pin him down.

"Ayra..._listen carefully_."

I struggled to no avail, spitting in his face before attempting to kick out his feet.

With another overtly swift movement, his body was pressing me flush against the wall.

"Ayra...I _didn't_ kill them..._You_ did. As you slept."

"You're lying." I gritted.

The shakiness of my voice betrayed me.

The truth was that my body had become a bomb, sparking dangerously with the remnants of my dream. As the world spun around me, I could feel my stomach violently churn.

"I can't...explain all of why I was here. The spell can only cover you for so long. But these Fray... They came to kill _you_. To strangle you and hang you from the culpit. They almost succeeded."

The Grifter's eyes darted to my chest. I followed his gaze to the remains of my mother's necklace. What was once a vibrant freckled stone had now been scorched to a blackened ember. The familiar jagged edges cracked out of place, hanging limply from its charred string.

"_I-I don't_..._I don't understand_..."

"You're a feedling, Ayra. There haven't been Feedlings in centuries. I...I had heard stories about them in Rulan but..."

_Rulan_? Had he only been masking as Fray?

"You must've unknowingly called to a dragon last night. When they select a feedling, they...they're known to operate based on a specific set of conditions. Do you remember doing anything unusual?"

I looked at him as if he spoke a foreign tongue.

"Okay, so no spell casting..._check_. We can go over the details later. For now, I'm going to take care of this..."

As he gestured to the splayed carnage, another shiver raked through me.

"You should go to the Greenhouse. Ask for Baba Lain and they will help you with your cover. If an Upper were to see this...to know what you are..."

His impossibly black eyes seemed to darken further.

"Not only will they kill you...they'll decimate your entire _race_ for daring to breed a Feedling. _Ayra_...even if you don't believe me, **do not** tell _anyone_ about this."

At this, he let go of my wrists, causing me to stagger back against the softness of my bed. My body had become a cluttered heap of emotions. A shadow of flames still lapping at the inside of my skin. Powerful waves of nausea. Fear. Red, hot, _crippling_ fear. A heartbeat that threatened to jump from my chest at any second.

"If...If what you're saying is true....If I did this..."

I played anxiously with the tail of my dagger.

"Why are you helping me? Why should I trust you?"

**_O'se.

O'se.

O'se.

_**

The Grifter's eyes fell quickly to the floor. He pressed a hand into taut silver curls before bringing a knuckle to his chin.

"Did it tell you its name?" He wondered, evading the question.

"_Who_? Did _who_ tell me?"

"**Nox**..." A powerful voice exploded, rumbling from deep and vibrating into my fingers.

"How did you do that?" I asked pointedly, eyes wide at the Grifter's sinister change in tone.

"I didn't...I didn't say anything."

"Liar."

Before he could reply, I jetted from the bed to my bathroom, stumbling frantically before vomiting the contents of my stomach into the pot.

He watched me incredulously.

"Your dragon...it can still speak to you? During the day?"

After wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I lurched for the sink.

In the mirror, the bags of my eyes had softened. My cracked lips had healed and my skin appeared healthier, almost as if I'd had a good night's rest the last few months. My charred heirloom hung by a thread and the black smear of written charcoal still muddied my cheeks. I realized that only one word remained clear across the dark, freckled skin.

"**Nox**..." The voice repeated "**Call me Nox. Feedling, we're going to have ****_so_**** much fun.**"

And its voice was like a smile from the abyss.