Twenty-one days and fourteen hours ago…
The old man stood out like a thorny rose among cherry blossoms. He had buttoned his dress shirt in misalignment, causing one collar to droop lower than the other.
From across the crowded ballroom, Pinto squinted, catching flashes of the redhead as guardians twirled between them, stomping their feet to the melody. His unbrushed, dyed auburn hair had grown out, leaving his roots a charred gray that matched his stubble. Why would the Force invite a sloppy man like him to our graduation?
Perhaps the Force hadn’t invited him. Unlike others, he didn’t dance or chat. He stood still in the chaos, sipping on a glass of blood-red wine, his eyes drifting from one attendee to the next.
The bitter taste of dread coated Pinto’s tongue when the man’s eyes locked on him. In an instant, the air turned to ice, and the music melted into silence. Attendees vanished, one by one, until it was only Pinto and the redhead eyeing each other.
He looks at me like he knows me. Pinto gulped and adjusted his leather eyepatch. And something about him feels familiar too.
From behind Pinto, Vell rushed forward into the emptiness, her violet dress rippling behind her as she led Yahshi to the center of the ballroom, his hand wrapped tightly in hers. Her silky, petal-like sleeves paired nicely with Yahshi’s sage green suit.
Together, they bloomed.
The warmth of attendees flooded the room again as the band’s music returned, thawing the frost in Pinto’s veins. He watched from afar as Vell guided Yahshi’s hand to her waist and stepped closer, leaning in to whisper. The chatter kept Pinto from hearing her.
“What?” Yahshi asked. It was easy to read his lips.
Vell grinned as she placed her free hand on his shoulder. Whatever she said next made Yahshi look at the Academy guardians by the stage. They stared back, muttering under their breaths.
I bet they’re concerned about his behavior earlier, Pinto deduced, recalling Yahshi’s bold reaction to the announcement of Vell’s Defense Division placement. I hope they let it slide. He’s been doing so much better these past few months.
When Pinto looked back at Yahshi and Vell, they were dancing and laughing as though they hadn’t been tense just seconds ago. The change in demeanor seemed to ease Roz and Embre, who turned their attention elsewhere, smiles returning.
But Blimmery didn’t smile with them. His eyes drifted from Yahshi and Vell to the redhead, who raised his wine glass, acknowledging him with a crooked grin.
Pinto narrowed his eye. Do they know each other?
Blimmery studied the old man, holding his stern expression.
“Congratulations, Red.”
It took a moment for Pinto to process that someone had spoken to him, referencing his fiery formal wear. He faced a guardian who looked a year or two older than him. She had stood next to Cal in the crowd earlier and had cheered when Roz announced Vell and Quax’s unit placements.
“I like your formal wear.” She tucked her hands into the pockets of her black leather jacket, which she had paired with a crimson dress.
“Because it matches yours?” Pinto asked.
“Maybe I like red.”
“I don’t have a preference, but my sister always called red my color.” Pinto frowned at the ribbon that tied the guardian’s ash-brown hair into a ponytail—its golden shade gleamed like his blazer buttons. “I assume you’re one of Commander Cal’s unit members.”
“As of tomorrow, ex-unit member.” She extended a hand. “Evaris Starfall. Defense.”
“Starfall…” Pinto chuckled, ignoring her gesture. “You’re from that City family of fashion designers. How did you end up as a guardian?”
“I have a thing for breaking codes.” Evaris withdrew her unshaken hand, turning her attention to the old redhead. “But that’s enough about me—I’d rather talk about you ogling Professor Ogga.”
“Don’t be crude. I wasn’t ogling him.”
“I know, but I couldn’t resist the wordplay.”
“Wait…” The band’s strings swelled as Pinto followed Evaris’s gaze to the man. “Did you say Professor?”
“He’s a guardian.”
“Him?”
“He’s sharper than he looks. Reads a book a day, leads all the important meetings, and reports directly to Emperor Vakoi.”
As a final violin note ripped through the air, Pinto smiled at Evaris. “You seem to know a lot about him.”
“I notice things. Just like I noticed you.” She offered a hand again, this time to dance. “How about a few songs?”
“How about one?” He took her hand, and with a chuckle, she yanked him into the crowd.
Together, they burned.
You have reached the end of this sample.
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