“Help me… help me… kill me!”
Elara shot upright in bed, gasping for air. For the first few breaths, all she could see were the dark hollows carved into the wooden face.
She clutched the blanket tightly, trying to ward off the intrusive whispers, but it wasn't until her right hand felt the coarse fabric that she realized she was no longer standing at the examination table.
“Are you awake, Madam?” a voice called out from the side, followed by the hasty rustle of clothing.
A girl who had been sitting on the floor scrambled to her feet and rushed over to the bed. She leaned in with a look of genuine concern - something that felt just as unexpected to Elara as waking up in this room.
She recognized the face before she could even ask where she was.
“Gwenna?” she rasped, trying to steady her breathing.
Of all the girls in the shared dorm, Gwenna Rook was the only one who had shown her even a sliver of kindness after she crawled out of the storage room.
Back when Elara was still struggling to piece together the fragmented memories of the body's previous owner, it was Gwenna who quietly whispered some of the Spire's rules, filling in the gaps on things too basic to safely ask the supervisor about.
But she had kept her distance when the other maids were around, evidently afraid that helping the dorm's favorite punching bag would be enough to put a target on her own back.
Now, she was offering an eager smile, holding out a bowl of soup she carefully brought closer to the bed.
“Are you hungry, Madam? I can help you eat…”
“There’s no need,” Elara interrupted, pushing the bowl away with her right hand. “I don't want to eat yet. What time is it, and how long was I out?”
“About an hour. It’s eight o’clock now… maybe a little past eight,” Gwenna replied, glancing back at a clock hanging on the wall.
Elara followed her gaze, finally taking a proper look at her surroundings.
Mounted on the wall was an hourglass filled with blue sand, marked with hour lines. The level of the grains had already passed the line corresponding to eight, though she had no idea how an instrument like that could track an entire day.
The room was small, but the bed belonged to her and her alone.
It was about one and a half meters wide. Beside it sat two long desks, two high-backed chairs, and a bookshelf that took up nearly an entire wall.
The shelves were completely bare. There were no other clothes or blankets lying around. Space that would have crammed several people back in the maids' dorm was apparently meant just for her.
“Is this an apprentice’s room?” she asked, slowly turning her eyes back to Gwenna. “Did they accept me?”
She felt a warmth spreading through her chest even before she heard the answer. The tension that had coiled inside her ever since she approached the examiner's table began to unspool so quickly she couldn't suppress a smile.
Right before blacking out, she had been waiting for the next reason to die, yet here she was - waking up in a private bed, with a bowl of soup and a girl addressing her the same way maids spoke to the residents of the upper floors.
She let out a soft, almost helpless laugh. Gwenna immediately beamed.
“Congratulations, Madam!”
Elara pressed her lips together, trying to regain some semblance of seriousness, though she found it incredibly difficult. She cleared her throat and shifted closer to the edge of the bed.
“Why are you even here?”
Gwenna set the bowl down and dropped to her knees almost instantly, making Elara stare at her in surprise.
“The head of servants allowed me to attend to you,” she explained hurriedly. “When you were moved to this room, I volunteered to wait until you woke up.”
Elara nodded but remained silent for a moment, busying her mind with piecing together what must have happened after the test with the doll.
If she had been given a room on the sixth floor and they had allowed a maid to be sent to her, all signs pointed to the fact that she had indeed been accepted into the ranks of the apprentices.
But that didn't mean her innate aptitudes had miraculously changed.
I bypassed the crystal ball, but I didn't actually make the problem go away… If the book was right, I still need to find a way to deal with whatever sent the first Elara to the servants' quarters in the first place.
She didn't even know her own score, since she had passed out before pressing the crystal to her forehead.
Sooner or later, she would have to find out just how abysmal her potential was - preferably without an audience, and without Sylvara waiting for an excuse to question her presence again.
The joy hadn't faded, but it was now accompanied by the sobering realization that she had only earned the chance to begin her studies, not a promise of an easy life.
She sighed, lowering her gaze, and only then noticed that Gwenna was still kneeling by the bed, looking at her with clear expectation.
“You can stand up,” she said, reflexively tucking her left hand deeper into her sleeve.
“Madam… Would you allow me to become your personal maid?”
Elara looked at her more closely. She didn't recall anyone ever mentioning that was even an option. Gwenna glanced at the bones protruding from the fabric, immediately averted her eyes, and began explaining before the silence could stretch into something awkward.
“Some apprentices have people who take care of their rooms, their meals, and their daily chores. I’ve seen how it works. If you take me in, I will work as hard as I possibly can.”
Elara hesitated. The girl shuffled closer on her knees and dropped her voice to a whisper.
“I can also listen to what the other maids are saying… And keep an eye on what Brynn is doing.”
At the sound of the familiar name, Elara frowned, not quite understanding why, after being promoted, she should waste any attention on the girl who had tried to hit her.
Gwenna must have seen the question in her eyes, because she quickly continued.
“When you got hurt and passed out, someone summoned Brynn twice. After that, she started acting even worse and turning the rest of them against you. That’s when we stopped taking turns with the morning cleaning, and everything fell on you.”
Elara froze. Beneath her sleeve, her skeletal fingers slowly curled into a fist.
She already knew they had taken advantage of her memory gaps, but until now, she had chalked it up to the cruelty of a group that had found an easy victim.
The detail about the summons didn't explicitly prove anyone's guilt, but it made her being sent to the dangerous floors every single day look far less like a coincidence.
Someone might have wanted to make sure I didn't come back down… And all it took was letting Brynn boss the rest around.
Gwenna straightened up slightly, seeing that she finally had her full attention.
“I can try to find out who summoned her.”
“No,” Elara replied almost immediately, then softened her tone. “Don't go looking for anything right now, and don't go asking questions. If you notice something during your regular chores, remember it, but don't try to spy on her.”
She had no idea who was backing Brynn, or if it had really been about her at all. Sending Gwenna out to investigate could get the only person willing to share information killed.
She had just woken up in her new room and still had no clue what rights her apprentice status actually granted her. She had no intention of testing those limits by putting someone else in danger.
“I’ll ask the head maid about getting a personal servant once I figure out how things work around here,” she added.
Gwenna looked disappointed, but after a moment she nodded vigorously.
“Of course! If you ever need me, you only have to call. I’ll do anything, I’ll even lay down my life for you!”
Elara studied the twelve-year-old girl, who had delivered those words with far more theatrical intensity than a bedside chat required.
She wasn't about to treat it as a binding oath, especially since Gwenna most likely just wanted to avoid going back to a dorm where the strongest girls decided who was going up to scrub the corridors the next day.
“For now, just focus on keeping yourself safe,” she said, gesturing toward a chair. “Do you happen to know what new apprentices are supposed to do now?”
Gwenna shook her head, and Elara didn't push it. The girl had been sent to tend to an unconscious person, not to explain the curriculum.
After a few more questions about the actual move to the room, she sent her back to the fourth floor, reasoning that a prolonged absence might draw unnecessary attention.
***
Once she was alone, she sat on the edge of the bed for a while, listening to the silence. No one else’s muttering or blanket-rustling interrupted it. Then, she carefully stood up and began inspecting the room, hoping to find left-behind instructions or at least some object that would give her a hint on where to begin.
The room was far more modest than Vespara’s quarters, but after the shared dorm, just the sight of two empty chairs felt like an excessive luxury.
She could set something down on a desk without wondering if one of her roommates would decide they needed it more a minute later. And if she wanted to sit, she didn't have to search for an empty spot among someone else's belongings first.
Under one of the desktops, she found clean scrolls and an ink-absorbing quill. She twirled the pen in her right hand for a moment, examining the nib. There was no note attached, but just the sight of the writing materials prepared for her was enough to send another wave of warmth blooming in her chest.
She was actually going to study here.
She hugged the scrolls to her chest and looked around the empty shelves, imagining that one day they would be filled with books whose contents she would know how to use.
She didn't have to instantly match Vespara's power or immediately understand everything happening in the Spire; for now, just the prospect of starting her day with something other than checking the color of candle flames was enough.
Just this morning I was supposed to die by a crystal ball, and now I’m standing in my own room holding study supplies…
Maybe this time I really did manage to crawl out of that shithole.
She knew Noxveil Spire hadn't suddenly become safe, but the difference between a disposable maid and a novice apprentice felt astronomical.
If she couldn't improve her aptitudes quickly, she would just have to progress slower. If ranking up proved far harder than she anticipated, she would at least try to find a way to hold on to what she had already secured.
“Even if I stay at the first rank, as long as they let me live to old age,” she muttered, running her thumb along the edge of a scroll.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She reflexively straightened her back and headed for the entrance, still clutching the materials to her chest. Before opening it, she merely made sure her left hand remained partially hidden by her sleeve, then pulled the handle.
Standing in the hallway was a girl she recognized as one of the candidates tested shortly before her.
She was petite, roughly her age, with freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks, and copper-red hair braided into pigtails.
A simple blue dress and a stiff canvas satchel slung over her shoulder made her look like someone ready for class, but her green eyes studied Elara with a solemnity that hardly fit a casual neighborly visit.
“I saw your maid leave, so I figured you were awake and it was okay to come over,” she announced, giving a slight nod with her next words. “My name is Kelira Emberlain. I live next door, in six-o-three.”
Her expression remained so stern that she looked less like she was introducing herself and more like she was delivering an observation report. But Elara wasn't about to alienate the first person who had come to see her entirely on her own accord.
“Elara Veyne,” she replied. “Nice to meet you.”
Kelira glanced at the scrolls and the quill, then nodded with a hint of approval, apparently taking the sight as confirmation of an assumption she had already made.
“I’m here for two reasons,” she stated. “First, you have high mental strength, and I have high magic aptitude. Talented individuals should stick together.”
The corner of Elara’s mouth twitched, but she managed to suppress a smile. The girl looked utterly convinced that she had just presented a perfectly logical and sufficient argument.
“Second, out of the last group, you were the only one who passed the trial and survived.”
Elara felt her fingers tighten their grip on the scroll. She remembered the girls who had lined up behind her, their familiar uniforms, their nervous whispers. Now, she had absolutely no desire to ask exactly what had happened to each of them.
Just moments ago, she had been reveling over a set of writing supplies, while for the rest of them, the chance to escape the servants' quarters had apparently ended at the very same table she had approached so carefully.
Meanwhile, Kelira kept talking, as if she hadn't noticed the shift in her expression.
“You’re wearing the same uniform as the Spire's maids, so I figured you came up with them. To climb from a place like that to an apprentice takes strong willpower.”
Elara understood that this was probably meant as a compliment, but the way the girl listed her traits felt more like evaluating the usefulness of a new tool.
It wasn't openly malicious; rather, it was the startling bluntness of someone who believed that simply laying out all the facts was enough to secure immediate agreement.
“That’s it,” Kelira concluded. “That is why I want to maintain a good relationship with you.”
Elara studied her for a moment, then shifted the scrolls to a more comfortable position under her arm, buying herself an extra second to respond.
Alright, I know why you want to hang around me… Maybe now would be a good time to figure out why I would want the same thing.
The question almost slipped out loud, but she held it back before it could ruin her first interaction with her neighbor - a girl who, despite her peculiar way of presenting things, had just given her more information than anything she had found in the empty room so far.