Admission to Ioth Academy

8380 and Sahna had been on the run for weeks, agents of the machine prince hunting and tracking them every step of the way. Sahna said she had figured out a plan, but would not share what it was with 8380. They had travelled to the camp beneath the golden sphere, which was dauntingly large when it was this close. 8380 had only ever seen it far off in the distance, but now he was standing almost right next to it.
 
Sahna and 8380 weaved through the camp, ignoring all the looks the refugees gave them as they rushed towards the golden barrier that separated the school from the rest of the world. A large figure with broad shoulders, wearing a cloak and a hood, stood at the base of the sphere. Sahna walked up to him and gestured for 8380 to stay a bit further back. She spoke to the figure for a bit, then it looked up at 8380 and he noticed that under the hood was a minotaur. The minotaur thought for a while, then shook his head and began backing away from Sahna.
“Wait!”, she shouted and pulled something from her bag. It was the metal rose 8380 had given her the day they first met.
“HE made this!”, she said, pointing back at him. The minotaur approached once more, took the flower and examined it closely. 8380 approached slowly, curious as to what was actually going on.
“And you’re certain he is not being controlled anymore?”, the minotaur said in a booming voice.
“Yes...please, the academy is the only place he’ll be safe.”, Sahna said, tears now trickling down her cheeks. The minotaur took one final look at 8380, then sighed and looked down at Sahna.
“Say your goodbyes, then I’ll take...it...in.”, the minotaur said as he began pocketing the rose.
“That is Sahna’s.”, 8380 said, his monotone voice seemed to clang like metal as he spoke. The minotaur froze and looked at him with an inscrutible look on his face.
“That is Sahna’s, and you cannot have it.”, 8380 said, staring at the stonefaced minotaur with his hand outstretched. The minotaur thought for a moment and then placed the rose in the metal hand. 8380 turned to Sahna and knelt down. He held out the rose to her, but she just smiled and shook her head.
“Keep it with you. Give it to me the next time we meet.”, she said, looking at him through teary eyes.
“I do not understand.”, 8380 said. Sahna shook her head and said:
“We don’t have much time, just go with the minotaur for now. We’ll see each other again soon, I promise.”, she said, more tears flowing down her face. 8380 reached one of his big hands out and wiped some of the tears from her face.
“Goodbye then. For now.”, he said.
“Goodbye Bebo, I’ll miss you.”, she said and hugged him tightly.
“I will miss you too.”, 8380 said. Then he stood up, looked at Sahna one more time, nodded, and walked over to the minotaur. He was standing a little bit further towards the golden sphere, drawing a circle filled with runes in the ground. 8380 walked over to him and turned to look back at Sahna one last time. She was still standing where they had said goodbye. He raised his hand to wave, then he saw it. A robed figure in the camp stood a little bit behind Sahna, skulking in the shadows. Something poked out of the cloak. Something shiny like metal, and razor sharp.
“Sahna, look out!”, he said as loudly as he could, he took one step out of the circle as the figure fired the bolt and disappeared into the crowd. The bolt flew through the air and sank into Sahna’s back. A look of shock now mingled with the teary smile she had worn before the bolt had struck her. A massive, incredibly strong hand gripped his shoulder and pulled him back into the circle as it activated. Shining light erupted around him as he stumbled backwards and fell.
 
He landed, not upon the dirt of the refugee camp, but on the cold stone floor of Ioth Academy. Next to him, now slightly bent and dented, lay the metal rose. 8380 sat up and picked up the flower, cradling it in his hands. The last memento of his one and only best friend. And as he stared at it, the petals began to bend backwards and fall off. He caught each of the tiny metal plates in his hands and looked at the remains of the flower, now as dead as the one who’s name was inscribed upon its stem.