Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!

Whispers of Power

2

The library at six o’clock belonged to the sole librarian on duty. Most students had already left for dinner, a mandatory formal event for anyone grown tired of instant noodles. So yes, there was only one person left. The only sounds she made were the scratch of her pen and the soft shuffle of pages.

Eydis stayed behind the counter, workspace neat and labeled. Books by subject. Notebook ready. She tapped her pen against her chin, deep in thought.

“There it is.”

Another glyph.

She traced its lines with a finger. It felt different from the symbols she knew. It was leaner, sharper, almost elegant, but the inner logic remained. Magic is a language, and every language has grammar. 

Eydis copied the glyph into her notebook with neat strokes. And logic was her sword and shield.

Not her only one, of course.

She paused when a prickle tickled at her senses. Someone nearby was trying very hard not to be seen.

Eydis closed the tome, slipped the notebook into her bag, and glided between shelves.

Amanda, Tiffany’s former shadow, stood at the end of the aisle. When their eyes met, the girl stiffened.

Eydis took a single step forward. She leaned in, one hand pressing against the shelf by Amanda’s ear, sealing escape.

“If you insist on lurking,” Eydis murmured, “you might as well invest in a… camera, was it? Less effort. More efficient.”

Amanda flinched. “Stalking? I wasn’t—”

“Yes,” Eydis sighed, already bored. “You were.”

“How did you—”

“If this is about homework, the answer is still no,” Eydis cut in. “And even I have my limits when it comes to quadratic equations. Shocking, I know.”

Colour bloomed on Amanda’s cheeks. Yet she gathered courage and inched closer.

“Eydis… are you free tonight?”

“That depends,” Eydis answered.

“On what?”

“Your reason,” she said, allowing a small, regal smile.

Amanda twisted her fingers. “I was thinking… maybe we could… I mean, obviously you don’t have to, but if you wanted to, like, just, you know—” She sucked in a sharp breath. “Spend time together?”

Eydis tilted her head. “Spend time together.”

Amanda nodded too fast. “Yeah. Like… not in a weird way. Just. Like. As friends! Or maybe, uh… a date?”

Eydis’s teasing smile faded.

A date. 

A fruit. Or some convoluted social ordeal designed for maximum suffering. (The two were not, upon reflection, mutually exclusive.)

“I could,” she said, letting hope flicker in Amanda’s eyes, “but I will not.”

Hope died in silence. Eydis turned, satisfied, and started away, until Amanda’s damp hand closed around her wrist.

“Please,” the girl breathed.

Eydis regarded the hand, then the pleading face. Mercy and curiosity fought for a heartbeat. Curiosity won. She lifted her bag higher.

“Well? Don’t just stand there. Show me what’s so special about this date of yours.”

Amanda let out a breath, almost in relief, and fell into step beside her.

They walked in silence, or rather, Eydis walked in silence while Amanda valiantly tried to fill it with small talk, nervous laughter, and a few half-hearted attempts at conversation. 

Eydis, in turn, perfected the art of answering in ways that conveyed absolutely nothing. A raised brow. A noncommittal hum. Occasionally, a particularly cutting, Why? that snipped each topic at the root.

It worked well enough.

Past the last row of lamps, corridors dimmed. Together they left the main path, where dining-hall light no longer reached. Then, as they passed the tennis courts, Eydis slowed.

This route led toward the cricket ground. Abandoned at this hour.

A wide, open space. Perfect for unwanted incidents.

How… coincidental.

She stopped. “Notice anything odd?”

Amanda glanced around. “I… no?”

“Exactly. No witnesses.” Eydis folded her hands.

Amanda’s breath hitched.

“Not that I mind a little mystery,” Eydis added, amused, “but you do realise this is how horror stories start, don’t you?”

“W-what? No! It’s just… a shortcut.”

Eydis didn’t even pause. “A shortcut to hell?”

Amanda’s laugh came out as a squeak. “Do you always speak like that?”

“Only when awake,” Eydis said.

She stepped forward, letting the silence thicken until Amanda swallowed hard. 

“Good night, Amanda,” she murmured, then turned on her heel and walked off, leaving Amanda standing there, stunned. “I did rather enjoy the date.”

The sky burned red as the sun slipped behind the field. Beneath that bruised sky, the bleachers stood empty save for two students. 

Tiffany sat cross-legged on the top row. Her smile was small, sharp, and just shy of sane. Tonight, justice would be served.

A wet sound snapped her focus downward.

Jillian knelt at her feet. Tremors shook her thin frame. One hand pressed a stained shirt to slow the dark blood seeping through the cloth.

Gross, really.

“Please, Tiff,” Jillian croaked. “It was a mistake.”

"Mistake?” Tiffany scoffed. “Don’t insult me.”

She raised her hand. Violet smoke wound from her fingertips, elegant, hypnotic power that answered only to her.

Jillian flinched.

“We were best friends,” Tiffany went on. “At least, you played the part. Then you talked. You and Amanda both, so eager to betray me.”

“I never meant to betray you,” Jillian choked out. “You have to understand—”

“Oh, please.” Tiffany sneered. “You and Amanda both. You couldn’t keep your mouths shut. You exposed me. You humiliated me. And for what?”

“I can fix it,” Jillian begged. “Anything you want, I can get it.”

Tiffany’s quiet giggle escaped. “I already hold everything I want.”

The smoke curled around her face, whispering in voices no one else could hear. 

Because this power, it’s mine.

Mine to command. 

Mine. 

Mine to grow.

Tiffany’s eyes blazed purple. The tendrils eased away from her hand, drifting toward Jillian like curious snakes. A tease—

Jillian screamed.

—not that Jillian appreciated it. Fine. Fine.

Jillian screamed, scrambling back, eyes darting between Tiffany and the coils that reached her throat.

“Please. Please.”

Tiffany clicked her tongue. “I said silence.”

The smoke sealed Jillian’s lips, smothering her cries into muffled gasps as it tightened, tightened, tightened—

She shall be one with us.

The voice stirred in her mind. Hers? Or the power’s? Didn’t matter.

Tiffany froze. Childhood memories flashed: Jillian giggling over nail polish, sharing secrets, mocking a loser named Eydis.

A shard of doubt pierced her anger.

It shattered at once.

“Do it,” she whispered.

The tendrils constricted. Jillian’s cries faded into silence. Her body twisted, swallowed whole by violet smoke. All that remained was the bloody green blazer she had worn.

Tiffany exhaled. Her hands were shaking. She curled them into fists until her nails drew her own blood. But still, still, her heart raced. Her breath came shallow and quick.

“How did it taste?” Her voice cracked.

The answer rumbled through the air,

“Delicious.”

A shudder rolled down her spine. The smoke coiled back toward her, slipping into the curve of her ear.

Her soul, I mean. Polyester? Not quite.

Before Tiffany could respond, frantic footsteps interrupted. Amanda burst into view, alone, pale and panting.

"Where is Eydis?" Tiffany demanded.

“I lured her out, but she got suspicious,” Amanda gasped.

Tiffany’s hand lashed out before she could think. A crack.

 "One job! You had ONE job!"

"She's... she's too sharp," Amanda whimpered, clutching her cheek. "I think she knows..."

Tiffany’s nails bit into her palms. If Eydis reached Astra… No. That could not happen.

“Where did you see her last?”

Amanda pointed toward the tennis courts. Tiffany wasted no more breath. She strode away, violet smoke swirling at her heels like a shadow.

This power was hers.

And no one, no one, would take it from her. Not Eydis. Not Astra. 

Not even Athena.

Tiffany sprinted down the footpath, breath ragged. Ahead, in the deserted tennis court, Eydis moved at an unhurried pace, her dark braid resting against her shoulder.

Tiffany’s grin stretched wide. 

This was it.

“EYDIS!”

Eydis stopped. 

Slowly, she turned.

Tiffany threw out a hand, and tendrils of violet smoke surged forward. Reaching Eydis, they coiled—tightly, hungrily—around her limbs, locking her in place.

Still, Eydis remained calm. She studied the smoke curling around her wrists. And then, she smiled.

Tiffany blinked. What? Her gaze darted around, scanning the shadows. A trap? But no, the court was empty.

Then, Eydis spoke.

“A date proposal with chains this time?” Her voice was light, teasing. “Kinky.”

Tiffany’s brain skidded to a halt. “Kink—” The word strangled itself in her throat before she snarled. “Gross. Don’t flatter yourself. Unlike her, you’ll die slowly.”

One of Eydis’s brows arched. “Her?”

Tiffany’s nails bit into her palms. Don’t say her name. Don’t think about it. But the rage coiled inside her.

“She was my friend!” The smoke lashed, dragging Eydis to her knees. “But she’s a liar! She backstabbed me!”

Eydis shook her head. Even now—especially now—there was no fear in her gaze. “Birds of a feather, then.”

Tiffany’s breath hitched. The words hit like a slap.

“Shut up!” she snapped.

Eydis didn’t. “Did you ever understand loyalty, Tiffany? Even once?

Tiffany’s vision pulsed red. The smoke surged, wrenching tighter, until Eydis’s breath came strained, until her lips darkened, until her body trembled beneath the force of Tiffany’s rage.

“Shut up! Shut UP!”

Eydis forced out the words. “It’s a forgotten virtue… for those who wear… borrowed power.” A slow inhale. “All you have is alliance.”

Tiffany reeled, her grip wavering.

Eydis’s lips twitched. “And alliance shifts.”

A twig snapped. Tiffany spun at the sound.

Amanda stood at the edge of the court, frozen. “Tiffany, please, don’t do this!”

Tiffany let out a bitter laugh. “So,” she murmured. “The freak is your choice.”

Amanda hesitated. “No, but… weren’t we just supposed to teach her a lesson?”

“I am,” Tiffany said. “Her final lesson.”

Amanda took a step back. 

And there it was. 

The fear. The hesitation. The disgust.

Something inside Tiffany cracked.

“In the end,” she whispered, “you all choose her.”

The rage surged. The smoke moved with it.

Amanda barely had time to gasp before it snapped around her throat, stifling the scream before it left her lips.

Tiffany had already turned away.

Her fist met Eydis’s face.

Hard.

The impact sent a shudder up her arm, but Tiffany barely felt it. The only thing that mattered was the way Eydis’s head snapped to the side, the blood that trickled from her split lip.

“Hiding behind power?” Tiffany spat. “I can break you with my bare hands, freak! It’s all YOUR fault—you and them!”

Eydis wiped the blood from her lips, glancing at her hand as if inspecting the damage.

And then, she laughed.

Tiffany froze.

"Blaming everyone but yourself?” Eydis said, “How utterly pedestrian. A broken record playing the same tired tune of self-pity."

Tiffany's breath hitched. The smoke, her smoke, sensing her unraveling, withdrew from Amanda and coiled around Tiffany instead, wrapping tight like chains.

Don’t listen to her lies.

Tiffany swallowed, throat dry. “Tell me,” she rasped, “how do I make this bitch suffer the most?”

The smoke curled around Eydis’s face, whispering directly into Tiffany’s mind.

Nothing brings sweeter music than the fading gasp of a stolen breath… slowly slipping away.

Tiffany’s lips twisted. Yes. Yes, that would do.

“Then…” She exhaled shakily. “Make it slow.”

Her eyes flared.

"Make her wish she were dead!"

The smoke obeyed.

And Eydis screamed.