“We need to head to the border,” Gerry decided as we stepped off the stagecoach at one of the stops, trying to figure out our next move. Going to Godamn would mean traveling toward the capital, which felt like walking straight into a death trap. After all, Shedan—the City of Seven Winds—was home to the Ministry of Internal Affairs, where Josef worked. He could afford to use an expensive portal every day with his official ID, living with me in Stum while working in the capital.
But no matter how tempting it was to flee Izarida altogether, I shook my head.
“They’ll ask for documents at the border. And I’d have to show my real ones, not the ones issued by the Academy under my old name.”
“So, what do we do then? If we stay in the country, he’ll find us.”
“He’ll find us no matter what.”
I knew it was true. He didn’t want to let go of his favorite toy. He liked coming home to a quiet, submissive doll with big green eyes. Josef had plenty of connections; he’d use them, make up some story about how we’d had a fight and I’d run off to spite him. Or he’d lie and say I’d stolen from him, or even claim I’d lost my mind and needed treatment.
“We’ll have to go to Godamn,” I decided. Gerry looked at me with such a shocked expression that it seemed even he was starting to question my sanity. I had to explain my reasoning: “It’s a state-run magical institution with the authority to create binding magical contracts. Like the one in the letter inviting me to work there. Gerry, why did you send the application to the Academy specifically?”
“You said magical contracts are nearly impossible to break,” my friend replied, spreading his little paws. A breeze ruffled the dark, coarse fur between his ears, and he quickly smoothed it down before continuing: “I thought if they accepted you, you could restore your documents under the name Ellery Mion, and then nothing would tie you to Josef anymore.”
“It’s not quite that simple,” I sighed and sat down next to my pet on the bench. I placed my bag by my feet. There was no one else around on the roadside; the stagecoach had left, and I had no idea when the next one would arrive. “A magical contract is indeed a serious matter, especially if it’s issued by a state institution. Every such contract requires a guarantor, and in the case of the Academy, that guarantor is Izarida itself. They won’t let me run off or hide with these documents because I’m already obligated to work for them for at least a year, and the country will make sure of that. But it works both ways—without a valid reason, Josef can’t just take me away from there. Not without a court ruling, at least. All I need is to secure the support of the Academy’s administration at Godamn.”
I glanced around nervously. The sky was growing overcast, casting a shadow over the surrounding landscape. Birds chattered in the roadside bushes, and a dirt path led toward the nearest town. I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me, as if Josef had become all-seeing and could observe me from anywhere in the world. That sensation made me jittery.
“Filen at Gorta is a good person,” I said, licking my dry lips and clasping my hands together. Gerry’s ears perked up in surprise.
“Who’s that?”
“The rector of my Academy,” I sighed, lifting my gaze to the sky. “Watching him is what inspired me to choose healing magic in the first place. He’s dedicated his entire life to the Academy of the Damned, even though he lacked the influence and connections to improve its conditions or secure more funding. But he tried for years. I hope he’ll help me.”
“Then we need to get to the Academy as fast as we can and sign a magical contract for a few years?”
“That’s the plan for now,” I nodded, leaning back against the bench, exhausted.