Waelid’s gaze shifted to my clenched hand, his thin smile stretching wider.

  “Oh? And what’s that you’re holding? We’re voidbloods. We never get letters.”

  My throat tightened, but I forced myself to reply. “It’s from family. Just a letter from my brother,” I said, steadying my voice. “Nothing important. Not all magebloods are awful, you know.”

  “That’s a lie!” He slammed his hands on the table. I looked back at him, unfazed by his outburst. He took a deep breath and pushed his hair back before clearing his throat. “Your brother, you say?” He stepped closer. “I’d hate to think you were hiding something, Erik. Secrets have a way of turning dangerous around here.”

  I laughed and raised my eyebrow. “You’d know all about dangerous secrets, wouldn’t you? After the trial . . .”

  “You know, Erik, I’m glad you saw what you did. Now I have a friend to be myself around. But you should be careful. You wouldn’t want to imply anything that would damage my reputation.”

  Before I could respond, his hand moved, and for a moment, my chest seized. I thought he might grab the letter. Instead, his fingers brushed along the corner of the table, trailing across the surface as he circled it.

  My mind raced. I couldn’t let him see the contents.

  Fern’s voice cut in.

  ‘Why don’t you just hit him?!’

  That’s just what he wants, I said.

  I inched the paper toward a nearby candle, keeping my expression neutral. “You’re awfully interested in me, Waelid. Maybe you’re the one with something to hide.”

  He stopped mid-step, his eyes narrowing. He clenched his fists and leaned over the long desk. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? That tongue will get you in trouble.”

  I didn’t respond. Instead, I moved the letter, letting the fire catch its edge. The dry parchment curled almost instantly, blackening as the fire consumed it. The faint smell of burning paper filled the room.

  Waelid’s gaze flicked to the flame, his smile twitching. For a moment, something dark crossed his face—annoyance, maybe even anger—but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by that same infuriating smirk. “A bit theatrical, don’t you think?”

  “Just being thorough,” I said, letting the ashes fall into the ceramic dish beneath the candle. “No need to fill the trash with unnecessary paper.”

  “Indeed,” Waelid replied, his voice light but his eyes cold. He straightened, smoothing his shirt with a practiced motion. “Careful, Erik. There are eyes everywhere, and not all of them blink kindly.”

  With that cryptic remark, he turned and strode away, his footsteps muffled against the worn library carpet. I didn’t move until he disappeared around the corner.

  Fern broke the silence.

  ‘You should have knocked him out.’

  Fern, just because you get a little power boost doesn’t mean you get to go around beating the crap out of everyone you disagree with.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that throwing kids to their deaths was something we disagreed on.’

  I rolled my eyes. I feel the same way as you, I do. But you must know we aren’t invincible, and we need to play the rules of the game to make our way through.

  ‘What game are you talking about?’

  The game of life and its politics. We play so we can get the upper hand, the power, and the goals we seek. One wrong move and we could end up as a corpse on a dissecting table.

  I felt Fern take in my words and could picture him nodding.

  ‘So, do you think he could be the spy?’ Fern asked, referring to Waelid.

  No, he’s an ass and has sacrificed voidbloods, but I don’t think he is allying with the monarchy. My money is on Professor Pestil right now. He seems to have a problem with me because from the beginning. Plus, we overheard him saying some pretty suspicious things. But maybe he just gives off villain vibes, and he’s not bad at all.

  ‘Could be . . . I just don’t want more people like Waelid to get away with something. There’s no justice here it seems,’ Fern said.

  We don’t know for sure that Waelid will get away with his deeds. And remember, there was no justice for you from the moment you were born. At least now we can maybe change that.

  I stared at the ashes in the dish. The letter was gone, but its words burned sharp in my mind.

  Fern shouldn’t still be here, yet he was. A twin soul unlike any recorded, and no answers why. Why hadn’t our souls devoured each other? Somewhere in the academy, a spy worked for the royal mage Knightsbut for what? Materials from the pillar? Secrets about the upper floors? Or something else entirely?

  And then there was my brother. The reason I pushed so hard with my training. My whole reason for being here. He was the thread pulling me forward. A twin soul like me. Except I didn’t know which part of him I’d be facing when we met—or if I could even trust him at all.

  And Waelid. Always circling. Always watching. Always dangerous. What was his angle?

  Questions piled up faster than I could untangle them, but the library suddenly felt too heavy, and the walls felt too close. Grabbing my things, I slipped out, my heart beating as I returned to the dorms.

  I walked out of the academy and crossed the long lawn toward my dorm. When I approached, the smell of burning firewood touched my nostrils. Laughter drifted faintly through the air.

  I exhaled slowly, forcing the tension in my chest to ease. Whatever awaited me tomorrow, I needed to be with my friends; I needed to rest and feel some sense of normalcy, or I would lose myself in the anxiety. Normally, I would spiral out on my own, only to hide it whenever Noah would come home. But now, Fern was with me the whole time. I couldn’t lose it while he relied on me.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  I stepped into the common area and walked out the back doors to be greeted by the golden glow of a massive bonfire crackling on the beach. Silas’s voice carried over the sound of laughter, bright and warm.

  “Erik! Finally!” he called, waving me over through the house. He was sparring with Mel near the bonfire.

  The others cheered as I walked out. All fifteen of the House Anu recruits were relaxing on the beach. Some played drums and others danced. I kicked off my shoes and walked onto the sand to join them. For the first time since the library, I felt my shoulders loosen, the weight on my chest lifting just enough to breathe.

  The questions, the sword, the spy—they could all wait.

  Tonight was about celebration. About the people who had fought by my side and lived to tell the tale.

  The bonfire roared, throwing flickering shadows across the circle of recruits. The salty breeze carried the tang of brine and the faint scent of charred wood, mingling with the sound of laughter and Tevin’s steady beat. The big guy had found a large hand drum and was beating a soft tune for others to dance or bop their heads to.

  I looked across at my classmates, thankful that they all lived.

  Luna and Sora huddled over the blood infusion booklet, pointing at entries and giggling like they didn’t have a care in the world. Sora’s eye patch caught the firelight, reminding me of what she’d sacrificed during the trial.

  Silas and Mel were off to the side near the edge of the firelight, having a wrestling match for a small group of onlookers.

  “Oh, come on, Silas, you really gonna let her pin you three times?” the girl Morgan said, laughing.

  Another boy, Quill, walked up to them.

  “Are we still watching Silas loose to Mel again?” He laughed as Mel proceeded to flip Silas on his back.

  “Okay, okay. I’m done, you win, you damn psycho,” he said, rubbing his neck as he stood up.

  “Hahaha! Who’s next? What about you, Quill?”

  “Me? Nooo, what about Morgan?”

  “Huh? Uh, I gotta go,” Morgan said before running off to the house.

  “Erik!” Silas’s voice boomed above the noise. He retreated from Mel and waved me over to a seat on a log, his grin wide and infectious.

  “Glad you could join us,” Mel said, joining us since she had run out of challengers. Her red hair seemed on fire, reflecting the flames. “Now that the hero’s here, maybe things will get interesting.”

  “Hero’s a stretch,” I said, lowering myself onto the log.

  “Not when you’re carrying that,” Mel said, nodding at the sword at my side. “Mind if I look?”

  I hesitated but unfastened the blade and handed it to her. “Sure, but be careful. It’s . . . different.”

  Mel took it without hesitation, only to drop it immediately. “Ow!”

  Tevin stopped playing, and everyone looked over. Mel’s eyes were wide. “What the hell?” She flexed her fingers as if shaking off a sting.

  Sora leaned forward. “What happened?”

  “It—” Mel stared at the blade now lying in the sand. “It was like a ringing in my ears, and then something shocked my arm. Like it didn’t want me holding it.”

  The group fell silent. All eyes turned to me.

  “Dog said it’s cursed,” I admitted, picking up the sword carefully and resheathing it.

  “Uh . . . Dog?”

  I thought for a moment if I should be honest. Then I decided there was no harm in telling them what happened in the pillar after I got separated.

  “Okay, well. It’s going to sound crazy,” I started, and Tevin continued drumming softly while I told them.

  “Wait, wait, wait!” Tevin stopped playing his drum again and stood up, eyes fixated on me. “Bugs . . . that heal your body?! When can we go? I want to see them!”

  “You are a freak, man,” Quill said, rolling his eyes. Several people laughed, and Sora gently patted Tevin to sit back down.

  “So, what will you do with it? The sword,” Mel said.

  “I haven’t decided yet. It’s not hurting me—at least not yet.”

  “Maybe don’t use it until you know for sure,” Luna said. “No point tempting fate. You already got lucky with how easily it cut the Guardian.”

  “Whatever you do, keep it for the upcoming battle,” Mel said before taking another sip of tea.

  “Upcoming battle?” Sora asked, looking at Mel.

  “Well, we will help the Cinders take the fourth floor, right?”

  “I . . . I guess we would. They would want all the help they can get, I assume. Cursed or not, I am not sure anyone else has a weapon that can cut them so easily.” I touched the hilt again, forcing a grin to shift the conversation. “But enough about the sword. Tonight’s about celebrating, right? We earned it. Took down a damn Guardian and lived to tell the tale.”

  Cheers erupted across the bonfire.

  “Pick up those drums again, Tevin!” Sora yelled, and we enjoyed our victory night.

  The dormitory was quiet as I slipped through the heavy wooden door anhour later just before the sun came up later. The faint crash of waves against the shore crept in through the window, mixing with the soft creaks of the old building settling for the night.

  The warmth of the bonfire still clung to my skin. I changed into simple black pajamas and moved to the edge of the bed, letting my weight sink into the mattress. For a moment, I let myself imagine what life would be like without any of this—no pillars, no curses, no spies or twin souls. Just a normal life. Safe. Then I thought of my home, Earth. My time before all this. How I had wished every day for something to change, and now that it had, I suddenly wanted normal again. I chastised myself for never being satisfied. Would I ever accept life as it was?

  The sound of paper sliding across stone snapped me out of the thought like a jolt of ice water.

  I froze.

  My gaze shot to the base of the door, where a folded note lay.

  Moving slowly, I got up and reached for it. It was simple and unmarked. I unfolded it to see aggressive handwriting inside:

  Leave Ash, twin soul, or you will die.

  The words sent a spike of icy dread down my spine. Twin soul. The warning wasn’t just precise—it was personal.

  I grabbed my sword and bolted to the door, yanking it open.

  The hallway stretched ahead, dimly lit by the soft glow of lanterns mounted along the walls. It was empty.

  Then, at the far end, a shadow slipped around the corner.

  “Hey!” I shouted, already moving.

  Barefoot, still in my pajamas, I tore down the corridor. My heart hammered as I rounded the corner, glimpsing the figure—a hooded silhouette moving with unnaturally fluid speed.

  “Stop!” I shouted again. The figure didn’t hesitate, and their footsteps were impossibly light and incredibly fast against the stone floor.

  They darted through the dormitory, slipping through the halls like a shadow until they broke into the open air. I closed my eyes and tapped into the synergy. Blood rushed through me, and my muscles came alive. I sprinted and followed the intruder. I burst out the main door and across the courtyard.

  The figure sprinted toward the edge of the house grounds, their hood billowing behind them.

  “Who are you?” I yelled.

  I pumped my legs harder and harder, urging Fern to give me speed.

  ‘I’m trying! Run faster!’ Fern sounded strained in my head.

  My heartbeat doubled, and my legs rocketed across the grass.

  But the shadow was faster.

  They turned and sprinted toward the side of the pillar, away from the academy entrance. I followed behind them at least a hundred yards before they stopped. At the base of the towering pillar, their silhouette stood like a small ant next to a skyscraper. They tilted their head toward me, and for a moment, I saw their eyes beneath the hood—glowing bright gold, sharp and wolfish. My breath caught in my throat. And the person transformed.

  The figure’s body twisted unnaturally, hunched forward as their limbs elongated. The hood and cloak fell away, revealing bright white fur. Massive paws struck the ground, and a group of nine tails lashed behind them, twitching with restrained power. Their body grew several feet until they stood on their hind legs, towering some fifteen feet tall. I had slowed as I saw their new form, and stopped chasing.

  I wondered if the fox was a Cinder using a blood infusion, but it had no mask. If they were a Cinder, they were at least level three. And if they weren’t, I wondered if they came from the pillar.

  The creature turned its head toward me, locking those feral, intelligent eyes onto mine. My legs stiffened. I froze. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved.

  Then it lunged.

  Not at me—upward.

  Its claws sank into the pillar’s surface, and it began climbing. Fast.

  I ran up to the pillar where it had just stood and stared in disbelief as the creature scaled the sheer stone. Higher and higher it climbed with the moonlight glinting off its white fur. The beast was like a beautiful shooting star climbing the massive pillar.

  I stood there, chest heaving, the cold biting at my bare feet. My mind raced as the moment crashed over me in waves.

  Fern’s voice came barely above a whisper.

  ‘What . . . what was that?’

  No idea. This school . . . this pillar has become more and more mysterious. I suspect that won’t be the last we will see of that . . . thing.

  I swallowed hard, my gaze still fixed on the spot where the creature had disappeared. But one thing was certain.

  Someone—or something—from above was watching what happened below.