Unfriendly Furniture

The academy had never been so silent. Not even in the dead of winter, when the snows smothered sound and the fireplaces crackled behind closed doors. Now, there was only the sound of their own footsteps as the five students hurried across the frozen campus, ducking behind pavilions and decorative hedges, evading the patrols of goblins that stalked the grounds with chilling intent.

Children were being taken.

They watched from behind a stone archway as another group of first-years, bound and dazed, was loaded into a wyvern's basket. No one over the second year moved. Professors, guards, upperclassmen—all stood like marionettes whose strings had been cut.

“It’s only first and second years,” Izutsumi murmured. “They’re the only ones not frozen.”

“Because they’re the weakest,” Dray said grimly. “Easy targets.”

“Great,” Rufus muttered. “We're the bottom shelf of heroism.”

With tension pressing in, they moved faster—through archways, over courtyards, past the frozen statue-fountain of Master Hawthorn the Abjurer. The towering structure of the Zelladium Arcana loomed at the heart of the wizard’s campus, its crystalline dome shimmering faintly.

Inside, the air was warm but stale, like breath trapped too long in lungs. The foyer flickered with half-alive illusions—phantoms of students and spells frozen mid-cast. A spectral owl hovered, unmoving, above a lecture table.

Izutsumi turned to Rufus. “So where do we go next?”

Rufus adjusted his cuffs nonchalantly. “This way. Down the stairwell. Should lead to the gem chamber.”

Sharkie narrowed her eyes. “You sure know your way around for someone who ‘snuck in once.’”

“I have a natural sense of direction,” Rufus replied. “And, uh... a curious spirit.”

They descended into the earth, the stairwell spiraling tighter and tighter. The air thickened. Midway down, a creak echoed below.

“I’ll scout ahead,” Rufus offered. Before anyone could protest, he slipped into shadow and vanished down the steps.

When he reached the bottom, the corridor was empty. Smooth stone walls, dusty shelves, and broken magical instruments scattered across the room. He was about to call the others down when something caught his eye—a cloak, elegant and embroidered with arcane patterns, hung neatly from a wall hook.

“Ooh,” he breathed. “That’s coming with me.”

He tucked it into his bag just as the others reached the bottom. While the group explored the dimly lit chamber, Izutsumi approached an old chest tucked between two shelves. She stopped.

“That’s not a chest,” she said flatly.

“Oh great,” muttered Dray.

“I think it’s a mimic.”

“Come on, they always say that in stories—” Rufus began.

The chest shuddered, sprouted fangs, and lunged—straight for him.

“ACK!”

The mimic clamped onto Rufus with grotesque, sticky pseudopods. He twisted and kicked as the others leapt into action. Dray’s sword flashed, carving glowing arcs. Izutsumi and Sharkie shifted into bestial forms—claws and teeth joining the fray. Rufus stabbed wildly, half cursing and half narrating his own daring escape.

Moments later, the mimic collapsed into a heap of dissolved goo, and Rufus emerged, disheveled and offended.

“I am never trusting furniture again.”

Just then, footsteps echoed from a corridor beyond, and four figures entered the room, wands at the ready. They were second-year wizard students—Norval, tall and serious; Evangeline, her golden hair glowing with static; Flora, a gnome barely three feet tall with a massive book strapped to her back; and Letitia, a halfling who cast with quick, precise motions of her hands—her spells silent, but sharp.

“We heard the commotion,” Norval said. “Are you all right?”

“Just fine,” Rufus said, brushing mimic saliva off his coat.

“You’re here for the crystal, right?” Evangeline asked.

“We know the way,” Flora added brightly. “Come on.”

The group followed the wizards deeper into the arcane maze. At last, they reached the Core Chamber—a cylindrical vault of copper and glowing crystal, filled with levers, sigils, and rotating arcane rings. In its center floated the Zelladium Crystal, suspended by chains of starlight.

“This should work,” Norval said, glancing at the others. “We just need to realign the conduits and—”

Before anyone could react, the wizards pulled a series of levers—and a sudden surge of energy roared through the chamber.

A rift tore open behind them—a portal, swirling violet and black.

One by one, Norval, Evangeline, Flora, and Letitia were pulled in, shouting as they vanished into the unknown.

“...Well that didn’t go as planned,” muttered Rufus.

Izutsumi stepped forward. “We have to try. If we can trigger the pulse, it might still work.”

They looked at each other, faces flickering with resolve.

“Just a few levers,” Dray said.

“What could go wrong?” Sharkie added.

Rufus shrugged and pulled one.

The portal flared again.

And the Borscht Brigade was gone.