Jas submitted his third report to his Valdris handler on a cold morning in late autumn, using the dead drop location he’d been assigned during orientation. A hollowed brick in the academy’s eastern wall, accessible from the maintenance corridor that most students never noticed existed.
The report was three pages long. Detailed and comprehensive.
And it made him want to vomit.
He’d docunted Sparkshire’s first-year political factions with clinical precision. The nobles’ alliance—who was involved, what their objectives were, how they coordinated exclusion campaigns against other recruits. The foreign students’ integration difficulties.
Everything his handler had requested.
Everything that felt like betrayal with each word he wrote.
Jas pressed his forehead against the cold stone wall after depositing the sealed report, breathing slowly, trying to convince himself this was still manageable. Still justified.
His family was stable. His mother’s dical bills were paid. His siblings had food. His tuition was covered through graduation.
All it cost was information.
Just observation, they’d said. Cultural docuntation. Nothing that would directly harm anyone.
They’d lied.
The letter waiting in the dead drop—his handler’s response to the previous report—made that abundantly clear.
Jas pulled it out with trembling fingers and broke the seal.
Your docuntation so far has been adequate but insufficient. We require actionable intelligence, not so surface observations. Priorities for next reporting period should entail:
1. Republic Shroud manipulation technology: Sparkshire possesses research into dinsional stabilization techniques that could revolutionize our Crawler breach response. Locate this docuntation.Verbal description is acceptable if access is restricted.
2. Foreign student vulnerabilities: Identify which Ashmar and Solhaven students are most susceptible to recruitnt or compromise. Personal problems, financial difficulties, ideological conflicts—anything exploitable.
3. Instructor capabilities: Docunt core abilities and tactical preferences of all senior instructors. This information is ti-sensitive.
Your family’s continued support depends on eting these objectives. We’ve been patient with your initial reports, but observation alone no longer satisfies our investnt.
—V.M.
Jas read it twice, hands shaking worse each ti.
They wanted classified information. Military intelligence. The kind of espionage that would get him executed if discovered, not just expelled.
And they’d phrased it as a transaction.Your family’s continued support depends on eting these objectives.
A subtle threat without being explicit. Coercion dressed up as business arrangent.
He’d sold his soul for fifteen thousand gold coins, and the devil was escalating its demands.
-----
Three hundred ters southeast, in the east wing of sparkshire academy, Jara sat across from his new friend and tried not to think about what he was doing.
"This draining technique of yours is fascinating," he said, keeping his tone genuinely curious rather than artificially interested. "How do you manage the vitality draw without overtaxing the plant sources?"
Bessia smiled—the warm, unselfconscious expression of soone who loved talking about their work. "It’s about establishing an equilibrium. You don’t just drain—you create a balanced exchange. The plant gives vitality, but I can redirect so of my own soul force to sustain it temporarily. It’s more complex than pure extraction."
They were in sparkshire’s dical wing, supposedly studying together. Both were healers, both interested in advancing their capabilities, both grateful to have found soone who understood the unique pressures of keeping others alive in a world designed to kill them.
Jara had approached Bessia weeks earlier, using their shared specialization as natural common ground.
It hadn’t required manipulation.
She was genuinely kind. Genuinely curious. Genuinely willing to examine power from a foreigner’s perspective—sothing rare within the Academy, where most students operated under the quiet assumption that the Republic’s path was inherently superior.
To them, external thodologies were inferior derivatives.
To Jara, they were alternatives worth studying.
That openness had made the connection easy. Organic. Unforced.
Which, in its own way, made it more valuable.
Building the friendship had felt easy.
Using it felt like poison.
"Could you show the technique again?" Jara asked. "I’ve been struggling with stamina managent during extended healing sessions. If I could supplent my reserves through external sources..."
"Of course!" Bessia replied imdiately, enthusiasm lighting her expression.
She pulled out her notes—ticulous docuntation of her Tether Drain integration. Diagrams of soul-force circulation patterns. Observations on optimal plant species for vitality extraction. Marginal notes detailing instability thresholds and recovery intervals.
Bessia wasn’t naïve about the value of guarding her advantages.
But healers were rare. Rare in core abilities. Even rarer in soul talent. The drop rate for healing-aligned cores was abysmal, which ant structured healing builds were scarce across the Academy.
Sharing refinent techniques didn’t feel reckless—it felt collaborative.
And she hadn’t shared everything.
Her core abilities were deeply interwoven with her soul talent, and that particular facet of her power remained private. Among the already limited healer population, those whose abilities stemd directly from soul talent rather than core acquisition were extraordinarily uncommon.
And extraordinarily valuable.
If anyone mistook her openness for weakness, they would discover—eventually—that they had miscalculated badly.
Jara listened with careful attention, copying notes thodically.
Asking questions.
Clarifying subtle transitions in energy routing.
So of it was genuine curiosity.
The rest wasn’t.
Because later, alone, he would transcribe those details into a coded report.
dical techniques that Valdris healers could replicate.
Soul-force manipulation patterns not widely docunted in foreign archives.
Subtle inefficiencies in Republic healing doctrine that could beco strategic leverage during conflict.
Each word copied felt heavier than it should have.
He hated that part of himself.
Hated how easily the duality ca now.
Student.
Friend.
Asset.
And every ti Bessia smiled while explaining a breakthrough—
—the weight increased.
"Thank you," Jara said when they finished. And ant it. "This is incredibly helpful."
"I’m glad!" Bessia started packing up her materials. "We should practice together soti. I could use a partner who understands the nuances."
"Definitely."
She left with a wave and a smile.
Jara sat alone in the dical wing for another twenty minutes, staring at his copied notes.
His sister’s treatnt depended on this. The experintal alchemical compounds that were keeping her alive cost more per month than most families earned in a year. Valdris was funding it. Would continue funding it.
As long as he cooperated.
The latest letter from his handler had been clear:
Your friendship with the Republic healer is valuable. Maintain it. Deepen it if possible. Additionally:
Identify vulnerabilities in the Republic dical doctrine. What do their healers do poorly? What gaps exist in their training? This information will be strategically valuable.
Your sister’s next treatnt cycle is scheduled for three weeks from now. Funding is contingent on satisfactory progress.
—V.M.
The sa handler as Jas. The sa escalation from passive observation to active intelligence gathering.
The sa threat wrapped in polite language.
Jara had drafted his report last night. Would submit it tomorrow through his own dead drop—a loose floor tile in sparkshire’s library basent.
He’d docunted everything Bessia had shared. Transcribed her notes with uncomfortable precision. Added his own analysis of potential tactical applications.
Everything that would help Valdris.
Everything that betrayed soone who trusted him.
His hands were shaking.
He forced them still.
His sister was twelve years old. She liked reading adventure novels and complained about her tutors and dread about becoming a combat dic when she grew up.
She was dying.
And Jara would do anything—anything—to keep her alive.
Even this.
Especially this.
He packed up his materials and left the dical wing before soone noticed he was crying.
-----
In Valdris’s capital, rchant Prince Corvus reviewed the latest intelligence reports with thodical satisfaction.
Two operatives embedded in the foreign exchange program. Both producing tricking but substantial intelligence. Both sufficiently compromised that extraction or rebellion was unlikely.
The Jas boy had provided detailed docuntation of Sparkshire’s political factions and was now being directed toward classified military intelligence. His family’s financial dependence made him controllable. His diocre combat capability made him unthreatening. A Perfect asset profile.
Jara had successfully infiltrated the Republic healer’s confidence and was extracting dical intelligence that Valdris’s alchemical researchers had already begun analyzing. His sister’s dical dependence made him desperate. His genuine compassion made him effective at building trust. Also perfect.
The rchant Prince made notes in the margins of both reports.
Jas: Increase pressure gradually. He’s close to breaking point but not quite there. Push him toward the Shroud manipulation docuntation but don’t explicitly threaten him yet. Implied consequences only.
Jara: He’s performing adequately. Maintain current pressure level. His sister’s treatnt continues as long as intelligence quality remains high. Consider introducing secondary objectives once primary intelligence gathering is established.
Once we are done with preliminary play on subterfuge we can go on to the real deal.
He sealed both sets of instructions and handed them to his courier master.
"Deliver through the usual channels. Timing is important—I want these received within forty-eight hours."
The courier master nodded and departed.
Corvus returned to his broader strategic overview.
The Republic had excluded Valdris from the exchange program, believing isolation would weaken Valdris’s influence.
Fools.
Money had purchased what diplomacy couldn’t. By the ti the exchange program concluded, Valdris would make sure that everything the n in suits, with their pompous plays on power prepared, would go up in flas.
And the Republic would have no idea until it was far too late.
He poured himself wine from a crystal decanter and allowed himself a mont of satisfaction.
A ti of rest he truly needed from the weight of his wealth.
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