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If creation needs destruction, and destruction knows its job is to end creation at some point and the cycle is unending . . . “I guess—” I pause, uncertain.

“Go on,” Silverstone says with a nod. “Vaedor is the God of Destruction. What is he wanting?”

“I guess he might feel like the quickest way to achieve balance is to destroy creation for good?” I make the sign of the Goddess over my heart, feeling as though I’ve betrayed her in even saying that out loud.

“You’re exactly right about his reasoning,” Silverstone says. “But let’s take it one step further. Balance requires two opposing forces in tension, so if our universe is reduced to nothing, it’s not balance, it’s total erasure.”

“But if evil never dies, does that mean the veil is, like, permanent?” another student blurts out. “We’d have to, like, guard the humans forever?”

Professor Silverstone studies the girl who clearly is annoyed at our Goddess-given duty. “We were all crafted in Vaeloria’s image. You don’t have to love the humans, you don’t even have to like them, but you must fundamentally understand the reason you have any power at all, the reason you were even born, was to serve a purpose.”

“Yeah, but they’re so weak. Wouldn’t it be easier to let them die?”

A collective intake of breath cuts through the room. The students around her shift uncomfortably, but she doesn’t seem to notice.

Professor Silverstone’s face grows severe. “The extermination of the human race would upset the divine balance we’ve been so carefully maintaining for millennia. Are you suggesting we dishonor the Goddess and the empire and simply let them die?”

The student shrinks in on herself. “I—well—no, I don’t want to dishonor Vaeloria. It’s just, like, we’re all going so out of our way to protect the humans, and they don’t even know we exist anymore. They stopped believing in Vaeloria and we have to hide ourselves.”

“Are you certain they stopped believing? Let’s take a religion in North America. The Christians, do they believe in a creator?”

“Yeah, but⁠—”

“And do they believe in destruction?”

“They believe in, like, evil,” the girl says, shaking her head. “That’s different, though, right?” She glances at the students around her, but no one is making eye contact now.

To openly question our divine right could be considered an offense worthy of the Paranormal Guard investigating.

“Is it different, though?” Silverstone asks, head tipped thoughtfully as she takes in the rest of the class. “The humans believe in good and evil, which is essentially Creation and Destruction, and they attempt to balance justice with mercy. In fact, the divine balance we fight to hold on to can be found in the majority of the major religions, from paganism to Hinduism and everything in between, you can cross-reference the major tenets of each to our own.”

“So while they may not believe in Vaeloria as we know her, their faith is rooted in the same core concepts. You’d be surprised that there are many that are incredibly close to our own. Some even teach about needing good alongside evil. Flawed as they may be, they strive to maintain the balance as much as we do.”

“I didn’t know that,” the student admits.

“And that is why you’re here.” Silverstone smiles. “Diremount is here to help you learn. Though, I’d recommend reconciling your frustration sooner rather than later. The Goddess will know your heart in the trial.”

The student nods, cheeks reddening.

I fiddle with my butterfly necklace. If the Goddess will know our hearts, what will she think of mine? It’s hardened and wrapped in barbed wire. I’m not an evil person, though, only scarred. Surely the Goddess would see that.

Professor Silverstone moves on, and I do my best to listen, but when a notification flashes across my laptop, there’s no hope. The class rankings are about to drop. I drum my fingers, glancing at the clock. I’m not the only one suddenly unfocused. Everyone is fidgeting in their seats. Most people are excited, but dread is an anchor pulling me down into the sea of unknowns. I don’t know where I’ll land, or what it will mean for Practical Casting practice or dorm room assignments.

I glance at the clock on the wall for the fourth time in the span of sixty seconds. Three minutes left. People around me type furiously on their laptops, opening the university ranking page.

“None of you are listening, are you?” Silverstone muses, not annoyed, though. She herself looks at the clock. “That will conclude today’s lecture,” she says with a knowing smile. “I’ll see you all in class next week.”

Technically, we should have more classes today, but they were canceled. Once the ranks drop, students in each order will need to move to the appropriate halls in their respective spire. There will be way too much excitement for anyone to focus. Not to mention, the fall bash is tomorrow night too. The timing is rather strategic. A distraction, perhaps, for anyone who is upset about their place on the lists.

“Oh shit, look at Melody’s rank,” Ever murmurs. “She’s in the top ten of second years in Vanguard. You’ll never guess who’s with her."

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“Nope.”

“I know this is a ploy to get me to open the site so I can see my rank,” I grumble, but curiosity has me pulling up the site on my laptop.

“I would never.” Ever grins mischievously when I side-eye her. “Okay, okay. I want to experience finding out our rank together, that’s all.”