As the top school of the city, the curriculum of Nacheon Academy consisted of both academic subjects like math, history, and literature, and also magic and combat training meant to ready students for life in a country constantly being invaded by corrupted beings like ghouls, imps, and vampires.
The hilltop campus comprised of just a single school building but acres of training grounds: man-made forests, ponds deep enough to submerge an apartment block, fields of poisonous plants. Recently the principle had determined that since fights against the abominations often happened at night, the students should be trained in moving and fighting in the dark.
On this day, the class of 2A stalked through a catacomb—not a real one populated by corpses, of course, just a locale dug by the school. They ventured in during staggered time slots seeking an objective placed in the center. They had to find the center, grab the item, and emerge safely to gain full points on this test.
The exceptions to this task are four students: Hwang Minah, Tang Jaeyun, Mangjol Subin, and Yon Harin. These top students of 2A stood in the center of the catacomb, guarding the objects.
“The first group should be entering any minute,” Subin said. She instructed Jaeyun, “Put your night goggles on.”
“I can see fine,” Jaeyun insisted.
“It’s impossible,” Subin said. “The light from the torches is too dim.”
Jaeyun ignored her, his goggles still hanging from his neck.
“I feel silly in this getup.” Minah scratched her arm. Rather than their usual athletic uniforms, the four students dressed in cloaks enchanted to give them the same defenses and vulnerabilities as ghouls, the most basic of the corrupted ones. Ghouls are balding, gray-skinned creatures. Humanoid in shape, but completely animalistic in demeanor, with sharp black teeth and reddish eyes. They disliked fire and light, but didn’t mind being suffocated. Not that it mattered, Minah thought. She didn’t plan on getting caught by anyone’s magic.
Jaeyun said, “I hear footsteps. Get to your positions!”
Minah and Subin pressed against the front wall while Harin and Jaeyun ducked behind columns. Try as she might to hear any sounds, Minah couldn’t pick up on anything. Subin couldn’t either. She clucked her tongue. “Stop joking around.”
Minah urged, “Trust Jaeyun’s hearing. Sometimes I question if he or a hellhound has better senses.”
“Both of you, quiet,” Jaeyun said. Then Minah did hear something. She caught the tiny glint of metal as it zoomed pasted her. Holding up his hand, Jaeyun caught the shaft of the bolt in midair, its sharp head inches from his face.
Minah heard footsteps from the passage. A boy stepped into the chamber. Minah whirled and kicked him in the head. He dropped like a bag of sand, and his goggles clattered onto the floor.
Daggers tore through the air and dug into Minah’s cloak. Instinctively she yelped, but it didn’t hurt! They sank into the cloth like pudding than bounced back out and landed on the floor. Right, Minah remembered. Ghouls are also immune to most piecing damage. She punched the girl who flung the daggers square in the face. The girl hit the floor and didn’t get back up.
From the entrance on the opposite side of the chamber, three more students rushed at them. They had only set a toe in the chamber as Jaeyun held up his hands and casted a barrage of flames at them. Their uniforms caught on fire for only a second, then the fire vanished and the pins on their chests turned red.
“We’re all ‘dead’ already?” a boy complained. “Come on, Jaeyun. I gave you my soda at lunch and you promised you’d go easy on us.”
“I did go easy on you,” Jaeyun said. “You totally could’ve dodged that by ducking.”
“You came at us so quickly.”
“Ugh, just be better next time,” Subin said. “Hurry and get out. You’re holding up the second group.”
Minah tapped the girl’s cheek. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to punch you that hard. You alright?”
The girl groaned but sat up. Her friends helped her and their other fallen compatriot up and out of the chamber.
Subin rolled her eyes. “They suck. ‘Go easy on us’. Such losers!”
“At least they made it here,” Minah said. “If Teacher An didn’t lead us here, I’d get lost in the catacombs myself. I heard the teachers set up obstacles too, like those spiky traps that pop up if you step on the wrong tile.”
“Shush. I hear something,” Jaeyun said.
The four got into positions. Minutes passed, and Minah got tired of the silence. Are they coming or not? She peaked into the passage. There’s nobody…
Something creaked. Minah looked up to see the grate in the ceiling being removed. A hand stretched through the opening and shot out a fire bolt right at her! Harin cried, “Minah, watch out!”
Minah hopped aside just in time. The fire bolt splattered against the wall harmlessly.
“I’ll find them!” Jaeyun shouted before talking off.
The hand unleashed fire bolt after fire bolt. Ripping the lid off her canteen, Subin directed the water out of the metal container and into the opening. The water formed a lash that grabbed the boy’s arm and pulled him into the chamber.
He crashed onto the floor. “Ouch!” he cried.
He moved to get up but Subin flicked her wrist and the water formed a spear that impaled the boy—or should’ve. The moment the spear touched his uniform, the water parted and his pin turned red.
“You’re out,” Subin said.
Above them, Jaeyun’s fire lit up the tunnel, and Minah heard the groans of the failed students. “Well, you had a good idea,” Minah said encouragingly. “You almost got me.”
“But you didn’t,” Subin said.
Minah exhaled. “Subin, don’t you think you could be nicer? Our classmates are giving it their best.”
“If that’s truly all the strength they can muster, they shouldn’t be the same school as me,” Subin said.
“They passed the entrance test just like you,” Minah reminded her.
Subin snorted. “Our entrance test is a joke. I finished in half the time and got a full score.”
“Wait, really?” Minah blurted out.
“Did you find it hard?” Subin asked.
“Well, parts of it,” Minah said. “No one is good at all subjects. I remember the essay portion being really hard, and the math too… Come to think of it, I only excelled in the physical test.”
Subin shrugged. “I didn’t struggle during any of it. In my opinion, the school should up its standards. I’m tired of being classmates with small fry.”
Minah sighed. There’s no getting through to this girl.
Soon after Jaeyun returned the third group came, then the fourth and fifth groups. None of them succeeded in grabbing an objective.
Collecting the objectives from the middle of the chamber, they tailed the last group out. Teacher An met them at the entrance. “You four did a good job guarding the artifacts,” she said. “Yon Harin, will you fill out the reports detailing how each of your classmates performed? It will help me assign your classmates’ grades.”
“Of course,” Harin said.
Subin asked, “What grades will we get?”
Teacher An chuckled. “Full points, of course. You children have a very bright future ahead of you. You could even join the Order of Light if you keep this up.”
Seeming pleased, Subin bowed slightly. “Thank you for thinking us deserving of such high praise.”
Teacher An rushed ahead to the classroom to tend to the other students. Minah made a face. “As if I’d join the Order of Light and be some paladin’s lackey. I don’t get why the adults pretend like it’s such an honor.”
“It is an honor!” Harin insisted. “The Order of Light protects our country from abominations!”
“I can protect myself just fine, and the only thing I see paladins doing is taking money from people,” Minah said.
Harin puffed out her cheeks—Minah didn’t get why she took it so personally. It’s not as if she or anyone in her family belonged to the Order—and looked to Subin for support. Surprising both of them, Subin took Minah’s side. “The salary is good, but aside from that, Minah’s right that unless you’re a light mage yourself and might hope to become an actual paladin, the only thing you can hope for in the Order of Light is to become a common foot soldier.”
“Well, that’s still important!” Harin said.
“I suppose it is, but I’ll let other people take on that burden,” Subin said. “I’m not meant to a foot soldier. I have plans to apply to universities in the capital.”
“You’re already thinking about that kind of stuff?” Jaeyun asked.
“As you should be too,” Subin replied. “We’re high schoolers after all. Haven’t you thought about what you’ll do after you graduate?”
Minah shrugged. “Find a job?”
“That’s it? What kind of job?”
“Any job that’ll give me money,” Minah said. Subin giggled, and Minah started to get annoyed. “Is there something funny?”
“Your thinking is just so simple,” Subin said. “Why attend a good school like this if you lack any dreams? You should drop out and become a cashier for the rest of your life.”
Minah’s face turned red. “Mind your business!”
Subin flicked her hair nonchalantly. “I’m just giving you advice. Don’t your parents care if you amount to anything?”
“My parents are—” Minah held her tongue and stomped ahead. She dove into the girls’ locker room and changed back into her regular uniform.
By the time Subin and Harin meandered in, Minah already finished and headed back to the classroom. She took her seat behind Jaeyun and found Teacher An reviewing tips for the students who failed the challenge—so all of them. “Remember, attacking a ghoul isn’t like attacking a person. You must take advantages of their weaknesses to defeat them.
“Class will end in a couple minutes,” Teacher An said. “Remember, the culture fair is coming up soon. Student booths need to be registered by next week. You can sell homemade goods or something you cook—think of something unique. The class that earns the most money during the fair will get to go on a field trip to the beach during the summer, so I expect you all to put in your best effort.”
The bell rung. As the students packed up, Teacher An reminded them, “Having survived this long I doubt any of you need to hear this, but be careful out there. Don’t go out past nightfall, and even during the day, it’s good to be among allies.”
Jaeyun and Minah headed out of the school building together. “I completely forgot about the culture fair,” Jaeyun said. “It used to be so fun at my old school. What did you do last year?”
Minah told him, “I didn’t go. I had a shift at that time. Plus… honestly before you transferred in this year, I didn’t really have many friends.”
“We should do something,” Jaeyun said.
“I guess I could cook something to sell,” Minah said. “It’d have to be something people could eat while walking around.”
The Nacheon Academy sat on a hill and only connected to the rest of the city by Nacheon Academy Street, which fed directly into the east square of the city. Some students like Subin and Harin got picked up by carriage, but Minah and Jaeyun simply walked to the square.
Minah paused in front of a tea shop. “Well, this is my stop—I have a shift today until 5pm. Would you like to come in? I could get you something for free—or at least discounted.”
Jaeyun glanced at the watch on his wrist. “I planned to go home right after school today.”
Minah pouted. “But there’s still plenty of daylight hours.”
Jaeyun sighed. “I can stay for a little bit.”
They entered and headed to the back room. Minah grabbed a green apron and put it on as she entered the kitchen and peeked at the clipboard containing the takeout orders for today. Jaeyun grabbed an apron too and began helping her package the tea cakes.
“You don’t need to help me,” Minah said. “It’s not like you’ll get paid.”
“No, but you’ll finish work faster,” Jaeyun said. “Do you think people would like cakes at the culture fair?”
Minah shrugged. “Perhaps. I’m not really good at cooking sweets myself since I don’t eat it often—too expensive and not enough nutrition. I generally cook staples. I could make something skewered…”
The chef poked her head into Minah’s corner of the kitchen. “Could you take this tray out? One of the waitresses is out today.”
“Of course,” Minah said, taking the tray and heading out. “Table three,” she muttered to herself. She auto-piloted to the front of the store and slid the tray onto the table. Then she stopped. The girls sitting there halted their conversation to look straight up at her too.
“Subin and Harin,” Minah gulped. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Getting refreshments,” Subin said. “It’s important to replenish one’s stamina after casting magic.” Subin gazed at Minah’s apron. “Why are you dressed like a common working girl?”
“I, uh, am doing… uh, this report for school. I’m working in a tea shop for a day then writing a report on it.”
”Huh?” Subin said. “We’re taking all the same classes, and I don’t remember an assignment like that.”
“It’s extra credit,” Minah said. “Teacher An might’ve not told you about it since you’re already top of every single class.” Minah gritted her teeth as she unwillingly complimented the girl.
“But I could use some extra credit,” Harin spoke.
Minah quickly said, “Well, you should ask her about it then. I need to get back to writing my report.” Placing the tea kettle and cups onto the table, Minah picked up the tray and fled the scene.
She felt out of breath back in the kitchen. When Jaeyun asked her, “What’s wrong?” she sputtered out, “Subin and Harin—They’re here.”
“Oh. Shall we greet them?” Jaeyun said.
“No!” Minah almost shouted. “No,” she repeated more quietly. “We should hide from them. They aren’t supposed to see me working in a tea shop!”
Jaeyun looked confused. “What’s wrong with working in a tea shop?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Minah said. “But it’s not something girls like Subin would do. I don’t think Subin’s ever cooked for herself in her life. She has maids to do those things for her.”
“So? You aren’t Subin,” Jaeyun said.
“No, but—“ Minah sighed. “It’s hard to explain—just don’t mention anything about it to them.”
She wished perhaps they’d leave after they finished eating, but instead Harin and Subin spread out their books on the table and began working—it’s the weekend for crying out loud! Hiding from them in the back, Minah finished stuffing packages of cakes. Once the afternoon rush simmered, she plucked a cake from the oven and seated herself and Jaeyun in the opposite corner of the tea shop.
By 5pm, Minah and Jaeyun began cleaning up. As Minah put back her apron, her boss ran to them. The middle-aged woman had a kind smile. “Minah, there you are,” she said. “I got a surprise for you.” She reached into her apron pocket and handed Minah four pieces of paper.
At first Minah looked at them in confusion—she hadn’t seen anything like these—then she caught “play” on top. She gasped. “Play tickets? They’re so expensive!”
“Yes. My husband got them for us and our children through a raffle and his workplace, but something came up, so I’m giving them to you.”
“Oh my goodness,” Minah gasped. “Shouldn’t you try selling them?”
“No, we got them for almost nothing. Besides, you’re a hardworking girl. You deserve these. They’re only good for tonight though, so you should hurry.”
Minah repeated again and again, “Thank you. Thank you.” She held up the tickets in her hands as if unable to believe they exist. “Wait, there are four?”
“Yes. Feel free to invite your friends.”
Giving a small wave with her hand, Minah’s boss took off. Minah spun to face Jaeyun. “Can you think of anyone to invite?”
Jaeyun clicked his tongue. “Well… no, not specifically. But anyone would be grateful—”
Out of the corner of her eye, Minah caught Subin and Harin packing up their workspace, and without thinking she rushed across the store and flashed the tickets in their faces.
Harin’s eyes widened. “Play tickets!”
“My parents planned to bring me and Jaeyun, but they’re both sick, so we’re left with extras,” Minah said. “You should come with us.”
“Why us?” Harin said.
“Right, why them?” Jaeyun whispered in Minah’s ear.
Minah shrugged. “You’re our valued classmates, and you’re, well, here.”
Subin immediately stood up. “Of course we accept. This is so generous!”
Hurrying out of the tea shop, checked the map in the center of the square. “We’ll need to run to get there by 6pm…”
Subin laughed. “Run?” She extended her arm at one of the carriages parked on the street.
“Ah, just joking,” Minah said.
Jaeyun pulled her aside. “Wait, I really ought to be getting home.”
“Are you serious?” Minah said. “I could save up for a decade and still not have the funds to buy a play ticket for myself. What’s so important that you need to get home so desperately?”
“I told you, I’m tired,” Jaeyun said.
“But it’s a play,” Minah said. “The fourth ticket will go to waste if you refuse to accompany me. Come on. This isn’t like you. You’re usually so easy-going. Is something the matter?”
“No, forget it,” Jaeyun said, then he put on a smile. “I’ll go. But you have to let me pick the play.”
“Deal.”
The carriage that Subin called arrived. Minah grabbed Jaeyun’s arm and hauled him into the carriage. Subin and Harin got in behind them and shut the door.
In the northern neighborhood where people like Subin and Harin lived, the theater sat tall, its steel architecture starkly different from the mainly wooden buildings that surrounded it. Proceeding inside, Minah gave the tickets to an attendee. “Good evening, students. Which play will you be seeing?”
Minah gaped at the screen above the man. She didn’t recognize any of the names. Plays aren’t something girls like her kept up with.
Harin piped up. “A romance?”
“No, romances are cheesy,” Minah said.
“A mystery?” Subin suggested.
“Being forced to guess what’s happening makes me feel like I’m in class,” Minah complained.
“I’m picking, remember?” Jaeyun said. He studied the list. “That one starts the soonest.” He pointed to one called The Blood Moon.
“It sounds too scary,” Harin whined.
The attendee said, seeming apologetic, “It is a bit gory.”
“But the gore is what’s exciting about these kinds of stories,” Jaeyun said.
Subin scoffed. “Let’s see something else.”
“No, Minah agreed I could pick,” Jaeyun said.
All three of them looked at Minah. She didn’t really care for gore, but she could see the excitement in Jaeyun’s eyes. Typical boy, she thought. Well, it’s still better than sitting through people kissing. “The Blood Moon it is.”
They exchanged their tickets and found their theater. They took their seats on the left side, surrounded by wealthy-looking adults. Soon after the lamps extinguished, and the only light that could be seen emanated from the stage and lit up the set of a large city. Not the capital, but one of the port cities in the south. A soft breeze carrying the smells of the sea drifted over them. Immediately Minah felt completely transported across the country.
Immediately the opening scene had a vampire attacking a girl on the pier. His eyes turned a deep red, and black veins bulged underneath his skin. It looked so real, Minah felt her heart beating faster. Minutes after he bit the girl’s neck, a knight rushed to the scene and conjured a fire that enveloped the vampire—although Minah realized the fire didn’t actually feel warm and hopefully didn’t actually hurt the actor. Minah gasped while Jaeyun sat on the edge of his seat.
Harin screamed and buried her face in Subin’s shoulder.
When the lamps by the aisles turned on, Minah teased Harin, “So, what percentage of the play did you actually see, Harin? Five percent? Seven percent? You hid behind Subin for all of it, didn’t you?”
“Why did I let you force me to sit through this?” Harin seemed practically on the verge of tears.
“Come on, Harin,” Minah laughed. “You’re almost an adult. It’s not like there are vampires just walking around the neighborhood.”
“Yes, there are!” Harin cried. “People get killed by them all the time.”
“Not in Nacheon City,” Minah said. “I’ve lived here my entire life and still have only seen little stuff like the occasional imp.”
Patting her friend on the shoulder, Subin grimaced. Minah braced herself to be scolded, but Subin only said, “Well, thank you for the tickets. I…more or less enjoyed it, I guess.”
By the time they left the theater, Minah’s stomach growled for dinner. “The sky’s black,” Harin whimpered. “Those things, like the vampires in the play, come out in the dark.”
“It’s plenty bright around the theater,” Minah said. Much brighter than the area around my apartment at night, which is lit only by regular flame torches rather than these magical lamps.
A long line of people stood under the carriage stop. The friends joined the line. Minah noticed the adults in front of them fidgeted uneasily as they huddled as close to each other as possible to stay where the light reached.
Harin pressed close to Subin. “The city should really invest in more street lamps. This is a rich district after all.”
“Money isn’t the only problem,” Subin said. “This type of street lamp operates on light magic, which is really rare these days.”
“It didn’t used to be like that?” Jaeyun asked.
Subin said, “No. Light used to be one of the more populous lineages, but after abominations like ghouls and the vampire in the play popped up, the king sent all the light mages to the front lines. Since then, the population has really dwindled. It doesn’t help that it seems both parents need to be light mages to produce a baby with light magic.”
“Hmm, strange,” Jaeyun remarked. “My mother is magicless like Minah, but my father is a fire mage. All of my siblings and I are fire mages too.”
Subin said, “I guess fire magic just likes being present. In any case, these days light mages are obliged to become paladins under the king. It’s because of this reason that ‘nonessential’ light magic-fueled objects like lamps are old. No one’s around to continue building or even maintaining them.”
“Don’t talk about no one maintaining these lamps,” Harin said. “You’ll curse us.”
“Harin, there’s no such thing as a curse—” Just as Minah opened her mouth, the street lamps shut off and everyone was plunged into the shadows.