I examined the medallion with clinical attention, assessing every detail. It was a perfectly crafted circular piece, no larger than five centimeters in diameter. Its polished surface emitted a golden glow utterly incongruous with our austere, depressing surroundings. At its center, masterfully engraved in relief, rose the majestic figure of an imposing dragon. My reflections were interrupted by Cassie's soft but emotion-laden voice.
—It's not an ordinary medallion, Arceus —she explained, leaning toward me as if sharing the universe's most precious secret—. It's a Dimensional medallion. It contains ancient grimoires, stellar cores, healing potions… all hidden in this tiny object.
I felt a slight tremor in my eyelids at such a revelation.
Cassie's extraordinary luck was a phenomenon that defied all logic, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a pang of envy pierce me like an icy dagger.
I had had to cross an ocean of blood and tears to awaken my powers, while she had achieved it simply through her proverbial good fortune. She was breaking the established system in a way even I hadn't foreseen.
I returned the medallion and watched as she caressed it with a familiarity suggesting she'd spent countless hours secretly studying it.
—But that's not the most important part —she continued, and I noticed her fingers nervously tapping her knee—. I found magical scrolls, Arceus. A mass teleportation scroll.
Spatial displacement for multiple people. The mere mention of such a possibility instantly hardened my expression.
Magical scrolls were specially imbued parchment rolls containing specific spells, considered single-use disposable artifacts. Their primary virtue lay in not requiring vast arcane knowledge for activation.
Notably, creating a scroll with spatial displacement magic was extremely costly and complex, not only due to the exotic materials required but because it demanded profound knowledge and highly specialized skills.
Unfortunately…
Nothing could be that simple. Escaping that cursed place was no trivial matter; the diary I had discovered and obsessively read explained it with painful clarity.
Before I could articulate my response, my heightened senses caught a faint creak from the door. I didn't need to turn to identify the newcomer.
Reinhardt stood motionless in the doorway, his slender figure silhouetted against the dim hallway light. His blue eyes gleamed with that analytical intensity that so reminded me of my own calculating gaze.
—Feeling better, friend? —he asked, advancing toward us with measured, precise steps.
His reddish-brown hair appeared almost black in the prevailing dimness, and I noticed his eyes swiftly scanning every corner of the room, meticulously assessing the situation.
—You're remarkably late, Reinhardt —I commented with an exaggerated sigh, shaking my head slightly—. And you didn't even have the courtesy to bring some food?
Maintaining my sarcastic tone was infinitely easier than revealing the profound relief I felt seeing him.
—Well… I suppose you're recovering satisfactorily if you can talk like that —he replied, letting out a sigh as relief visibly flooded his aristocratic features.
I saw Cassie straighten beside me, her posture subtly shifting in Reinhardt's presence, as if his arrival completed some invisible circle among us.
He approached my bed, and I sensed his piercing gaze studying me with an intensity suggesting he saw far beyond my apparent calm exterior.
—Since when have you known? —he asked abruptly.
—Known what exactly? —I kept my tone deliberately neutral, though we both knew perfectly well what he meant. If Reinhardt was aware, it could only mean Cassie had told him the truth.
—The truth about this orphanage —he clarified, his voice grave.
His tone held no accusation, but it brimmed with an intellectual curiosity I recognized as strikingly similar to my own. I held his gaze firmly without blinking, carefully weighing how much information to reveal.
—For a long time —I finally replied with deliberate ambiguity.
The silence that followed was almost tangible, heavy with unasked questions and partially unveiled truths. I watched Reinhardt open his mouth to press further, but the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps in the corridor cut him off abruptly.
The door swung open fully, revealing Emilia, our caretaker. Her radiant smile seemed more artificial than ever, a constant reminder of the elaborate farce in which our lives unfolded. She knew perfectly well that we were aware of the truth, yet she persisted in her impeccable performance.
This woman was, without a doubt… the Lady of Steel incarnate.
—Oh, how wonderful to find you all together! —she exclaimed with a melodious voice that once might have seemed genuine but now grated in my ears like nails on a chalkboard.
—Cassie, dear, I have extraordinary news —her smile widened in a way that instantly triggered all my survival instincts.
—Your adoption is scheduled for next week.
I felt the room's atmosphere freeze into the density of lead. Beside me, Cassie visibly tensed like a cornered animal, while I observed Reinhardt remain utterly still, his expression of studied indifference starkly contrasting with the force with which he clenched his fists until his knuckles whitened.
In that precise moment, I exchanged a meaningful glance with my only two friends in that hell disguised as a sanctuary, a silent but unmistakable message flowing between us like an electric current: time was running out rapidly.
The hourglass of our lives was emptying at a terrifying speed, and freedom—or death—awaited us on the uncertain horizon.