Page 98 of Academy of the Wicked, Year Two

The word "chalice" sends an electric jolt through my system, instantly connecting to Elena's desperate instructions about finding that specific artifact. This cannot be a coincidence – the very object I seek apparently stands at the center of Faerie's complicated relationship with Wicked Academy.

"The chalice possessed remarkable properties," Professor Valerian explains, the manuscript hovering closer so students can better observe the shifting illustrations. "Accounts differ regarding its specific capabilities. Some legends claim healing powers that could reverse even fatal conditions. Others suggest the ability to grant wishes within certain parameters. The most intriguing accounts describe power to address fundamental dualities within paranormal beings."

A student in the inner circle raises her hand, slender fingers adorned with rings that appear to be living vines coiled around each digit.

When Professor Valerian acknowledges her with a slight nod, she asks.

"What does 'addressing fundamental dualities' mean exactly?"

Professor Valerian's smile carries an enigmatic quality that suggests multiple layers of meaning beneath simple explanations.

"For creatures of mixed heritage, those with blood from two or more paranormal classifications, the chalice allegedly offered a choice," she clarifies, manuscript illustrations shifting to show transformative sequence depicting being split into twin versions of itself. "The ability to select which aspect of one's nature would become permanently dominant, while the other receded into mere trace elements."

My mind immediately applies this information to my own circumstances — hybrid witch-vampire nature that has defined both struggles and strengths throughout my existence.

Having the choice to become fully one or the other carries implications both tantalizing and disturbing.

Would selecting vampire dominance mean losing elemental affinities that have saved my life countless times?

Conversely, choosing witch ascendancy might diminish the enhanced strength and healing that vampire heritage provides. The prospect of such a choice leaves me profoundly unsettled rather than tempted.

Another student — male with a subtle blue tint to otherwise human-appearing skin – raises his hand with hesitant reluctance.

"Where is the chalice now?" he asks, voice carrying undertones that suggest a personal stake in the answer beyond mere academic curiosity.

Professor Valerian's expression shifts to something more guarded, a professional mask settling more firmly into place.

"The chalice remains somewhere within academy grounds," she states with deliberate vagueness that hints at institutional policy rather than personal ignorance. "Like many ancient artifacts and gifts housed within these walls, it exists for those with sufficient determination and worthiness to locate."

Her gaze sweeps the classroom with calculated precision, briefly pausing on mine before she continues her analysis.

"The Abundance Tree operates on a similar principle," she continues, the casual mention of our secret lunch location confirming nothing truly remains hidden from faculty awareness. "It appears only to those worthy of its gifts, preventing starvation among students who might otherwise suffer under our performance-based nutrition system."

I glance at sleeping Zeke, wondering how he discovered the tree's location and what criteria determined his "worthiness" to access its bounty. The timing of his showing me this secret sanctuary feels increasingly significant rather than mere coincidence.

He doesn’t seem like a bad student either, so shouldn’t he have coins to use for food and other essentials instead of starving himself?

"These hidden resources center around the Stellarum Archive, most commonly known as our grand library," Professor Valerian adds, referencing what must be the grand library's formal designation. "Which brings us to today's practical assignment."

The floating manuscripts close simultaneously, leather bindings sealing with an audible snap before they arrange themselves in a neat stack on the nearby desk.

The celestial model above Professor Valerian's head accelerates briefly, with planets and stars tracing luminous patterns through the air before settling into a new configuration that resembles the academy's architectural layout viewed from above.

"You will divide into groups of between two and four students," she announces, business-like efficiency replacing scholarly exposition. "Your task is to bring back aerial proof of what Wicked Academy looks like from above. You have until sundown to complete this assignment."

Confused murmurs spread through the classroom as students exchange uncertain glances. One particularly bold student with silver-streaked hair raises their hand with obvious skepticism.

"How exactly are we supposed to get aerial views?" he challenges, expression suggesting he suspects an impossible task designed to embarrass rather than educate.

Before Professor Valerian can respond, a familiar voice cuts through the growing conversational buzz.

"Obviously, you look through historical records in the library," Damien states from his position near the door, his tone carrying insufferable condescension that immediately sets my teeth on edge. I hadn't realized he shared this class with us, having deliberately avoided acknowledging his presence after our earlier hallway confrontation. "There must be books with architectural drawings or historical photographs. Honestly, it's not that complicated."

His small entourage —including the mysterious Raven— snicker appreciatively at this display of intellectual superiority,their sycophantic response only enhancing Damien's already insufferable smugness.

"I'll give you all a hint, from the goodness of my heart," he announces, hand dramatically placed over the chest in a theatrical gesture of generosity that fools precisely no one.

With a contemptuous backward glance, he leads his group through the doorway without awaiting Professor Valerian's reaction to this presumptuousness.

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