Typhon has decided to sit directly on a table of food, invisible to all but me, as students reach through him to grab heaping helpings.

"Doesn't that bother you?" I ask him. "That girl literally just reached through your belly to grab a slice of pie."

"They are insignificant to me. This spot gives me the best vantage point to watch for danger."

I grin around a mouthful of warm, buttery mashed potatoes. "This is super weird, right?" I ask Mireen who sits across from me. She nods.

"Yeah. Definitely. Ollie is… talkative. He wants to know what everything tastes like in exhausting detail. I'm still trying to get used to having another being in my head."

"Uther has a lot of opinions," Beck says. "Good ones, though. And he's actually kind of hilarious. You guys should've heard him during the ceremony. He had so many priceless one-liners. He kept telling me how many bites he could eat everyone’s elemental in. One. Half of one. A nibble. The guy is stone cold,” Beck says wistfully, shaking his head at the memory.

"Akaron doesn't talk much," Ambrose says as he slices into a steak. "But he's really intelligent. Having him in my head is like having a clone of myself in a way. Like another, extra brilliant mind."

"Is he humble like you, too?" I ask, barely holding back a smile.

Ambrose smirks. "Yes. We're both extremely humble, actually."

"So… care to explain why your elemental looked like a flying fish and you called it Oceanus?" Mireen asks. "People were laughing about it."

"Yeah," I say. "We thought it was better to be discreet."

Ambrose leans closer, eyes scanning the nearby students to make sure nobody is listening in. "So he can take two forms?"

"More than that, supposedly. He… really didn't like having to be a fish. He wanted to show them what he is."

"I bet," Ambrose says. "I still can't believe he's… well," Ambrose glances to his side again and settles for raising his eyebrows significantly.

"Yeah," I agree.

"What's he like?" Mireen asks.

"Um…" I look up at Typhon, who is sitting with his serpentine body coiled around the table, his back straight, head held high, and his wings spread as if he's trying to sun himself from the high dining room windows. "Proud? But he really cares about keeping me safe, too. I feel like I already trust him with my life."

"As you should," Typhon growls with a satisfied undercurrent.

Mireen's right. It's hard to get used to having another voice constantly interjecting in my own head. But there's also something oddly comforting about it. I've felt so crushingly alone at times, especially since the storm three years ago. Even when surrounded by people, it often feels like I'm on an island.

Like I'm swimming against a current that keeps pushing me farther and farther from shore, with no one to throw me a rope.