The cold found me first, and I welcomed it. It smelled like home.

It slipped beneath my robes before I had fully crossed the threshold, curling around my ankles, sliding up the back of my neck, threading through my chest like a memory I cherished. But this wasn’t surface frost. This was something deeper. Something older. It breathed through the chamber like it belonged here.

We all stepped into The Seal in silence. Ardorion ahead with Lo and Elio. Shara beside me. Garnexis and Aster drifting together toward the ice wall. Neir was already present. Of course he was. And of course he’d be shirtless.

I kept my eyes low as we moved across the stone floor. Thick, sticky mist pooled around our feet. The torches had already been lit. I didn’t see who had done it. The light flickered across the walls, casting long shadows that danced across ancient rock and the frozen surface that made up the far wall.

The ice had not changed.

Halven was still trapped within a block of ice, hand pressed to the frozen lake. I had not forgotten the image, but seeing him again, knowing this time was real and not just another dream, knocked the breath from my lungs.

I stopped just short of him.

Not close enough to touch. I could not do that again. Not yet.

The chamber was too full now.

Magic had already bulged in the space, threading through the mist. It pressed deep within me, especially the Moon magic. I recognized Neir’s signature now. But what I doubted before, no longer lingered in my mind’s hall of uncertainty.

The entities had Moon magic, too.

Of course there was more than Moon magic in the chamber and within the lake, even if I couldn’t interpret the power. And soon, all elements would converge here. Ardorion with his Fire, Garnexis and Orivian with their Metal, Elio with his Sun and Earth as a Stone Dragon, Aster with her Water, Lo with her Air, and Shara shared Wood with Veyn.

That left Lady Isa. As an Ice Dragon, she had both Water and Air, elements she shared with Aster and Lo.

A low hum of voices also filled the chamber, along with other sounds. Robes rustling, boots shifting against stone. Everyone took their place, pairing off in a pattern that had already been decided. I knew mine, but I did not move toward Ardorion yet.

Instead, I watched Neir.

He stood near the frozen wall, bare feet steady on the floor as though the cold meant nothing to him. His eyes did not meet mine. I tried not to let that mean anything.

I drew in a slow breath.

The others were already preparing. Veyn and Isa stood near the desk. Their expressions were unreadable as they bowed their head together in a soft conversation. Elio and Shara moved toward the center arc of the wall. Aster stood with Garnexis. Lo had been paired with Orivian.

I took my place beside Ardorion, his presence warm and familiar, like the edges of a fire that never scorched. He offered me a small nod, and I returned it. We had never needed many words to understand each other.

He deserved happiness. He always had. Once Halven was free, maybe he would finally let himself chase it.

But my gaze drifted once more to Neir. I cursed myself for allowing myself to be manipulated by this thing between us, but I saw no way of stopping it.

This time his eyes were on me, unrelenting, full of something I could not name without feeling it echo inside my chest. The hunger there was not of body, but of something deeper. Like he had been starving and I was the only thing that could fill the hollow.

My knees nearly buckled.

Quickly, I looked away.

Instead I concentrated on the power brimming in the room. We hadn’t even started the spell yet, but the potential of it, the shared intent we’d say aloud... It was like the moment before a ruthless storm.

We had practiced over and over again. Broken into pairs so we had two casters, two different elements, one natural anchor, and a singular purpose.

Isa had explained that pairing made the spell easier to manage. Two casters focusing together was the most stable configuration, especially for a spell none of us had grown up knowing. It allowed the magic to move without chaos, without breakage. Even with all our training, none of us were experts. Not yet.

Still, I couldn’t shake the worry that I would be the one to falter. Even the right structure could not fix what I lacked.

My heart beat once, hard.

We were going to try it. For real this time.

We were going to try to save Halven.

But it would not be easy. This spell wasn’t something passed down. It was new, fragile, and uncertain, just like me. Our ancestors didn’t know this spell and so we had to learn ourselves, not an easy feat for any magic user. I just hoped our courage and fortitude would be enough.

Isa’s voice rose gently through the silence, soft but certain, and it wrapped around the cold like a thread of light trying to hold everything together. It felt like she was speaking from far away. Like I was hearing her through the water again, muffled and slow.

“You already know your parts. You’ve practiced the theory. You’ve honed the spells. This is not new ground. But what lies ahead is harder than anything we’ve done before, not because you are unprepared, but because what we are attempting is not a simple a spell.”

I swallowed hard. She said we were prepared. I knew that was meant to help. But what if it wasn’t true for all of us? I had practiced. I had tried. But my magic had always been quiet. Unruly. Half-missing when I needed it most. What if I ruined this? What if I was the one who broke everything?

Isa paused, her eyes sweeping across us. I looked down when her gaze passed over me, not wanting to see her confidence. I didn’t deserve it.

“You will feel the strain,” she said. “You will doubt yourselves. And when the Binding begins to resist you, you may even think you’re failing. But you are not. The entities will push back. But together we are stronger than them.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. Together. That was the only way this could work. And I would try. I had to. Even if I failed, I would at least fail trying.

“Yes!” Ardorion said.

His voice broke the quiet, sudden and bold. It made a few others shift in place, a ripple of surprise. He always believed in us. I wished I could believe in myself that way.

Isa’s voice lowered. Softer now. Steadier. “This isn’t about perfection. It is about intent. Shared, steady, and real. Hold to it. Breathe into it. Let it anchor you. Let each other anchor you. Once you’ve achieved a true Binding with each other, then the designated stronger magic user will guide your Binding to me so that I can use it to bind the entities to the ice once more. Then Neir will be able to put them to sleep again.”

That made something catch in my throat. I didn’t want to weigh anyone down. Especially not my partner, Ardorion. With his confidence, he would be so steady, so grounded. And I... I barely knew how to trust my magic, let alone let it anchor someone else. That was why he would be the one to create the anchor even though I’d practice the Binding spell longer than him. He was also magically stronger than me.

Isa looked at each of us. Her expression gentled.

“You are all here because of Halven,” she said. “An extraordinary young man, who has extraordinary friends. Hold on to that. Trust each other. And most of all, trust yourselves. You are not alone in this.”

I closed my eyes for just a second. If Halven were here, he would not hesitate. He would tell me I was more than enough. That I could do this. That I always had it in me.

Maybe I just needed to believe it. Even if only for him.

Isa gave a single nod. “Get into place.”

I turned to the wall of ice. My hand shook just slightly as I reached out, placing my it gently over Ardorion’s. He would not falter. I just hoped I wouldn’t either.

“Begin,” Isa said.

Together, we all reached for our magic and chanted: “We bind this power to nature, our anchor. Let it hold what cannot be held. Let it steady what would shatter. Together.”

The words barely reached my lips before slipping into the shared rhythm.

If this worked, we would save Halven.

Magic surged beneath Ardorion’s skin, Fire flaring, veins of flame cracking across his arms like molten glass. His golden eyes brightened, too bright, shifting into something more primal, amber liquefied by power. His fiery hair whipped around his face, a crown of flame rising wild and bright.

The heat rolled across my skin.

My own magic responded, drawn toward his as if we were opposing stars caught in orbit. Silver-blue ripples shimmered outward from my fingertips, delicate at first, like moonlight on still water. But then the ripples deepened, spreading in rings over the ice as our energies met.

I looked up into his eyes, found the focus there. Not just raw magic. Loyalty. Determination.

We spoke the words together, not as a whisper, not as a shout, but something anchored and real.

We bind this power to nature, our anchor. Let it hold what cannot be held. Let it steady what would shatter. Together.

My voice did not shake. Not this time.

The magic between us pulsed strong, our intent holding, a perfect thread of Fire and Moon weaving into the frozen wall. His magic lit the space around us in searing red while mine shimmered in silvery waves.

Ardorion threaded our magic into the anchor, a fissure in the lakebed, solidifying our spell.

Isa stood close, composed as always. Her power moved around us like a second atmosphere. I could not track it or name it, but it was there, pressing softly against my skin, reminding me who she was and what she carried.

I recognized Veyn’s aural magic twining with hers, and realized they casted their own Binding spell, with Isa grounding it in the lake.

Within the ice, Ardorion shifted our bound threads of magic from us to Isa. We gave them up, trusting her to pull it all together. Her casting stretched outward like a tide, seeking the largest reservoir of power buried in the lake.

The moment the spell touched it, I felt the shield of resistance. My magic brushed against it like a whisper in a storm, and I shivered. The scale of it made my own casting feel fragile. Small. And yet... it worked. It was working.

Isa used the Binding spell to anchor our magic to the ice. Our magic threaded deeper into the lake, binding something vast and older than I could comprehend.

We were doing it. Holding the Binding. Halven would be free. And for one impossible moment, I let myself believe I could be part of something greater. I belonged here.

Then something shifted.

Fire raced along the threads of my bound magic, but it wasn’t Ardorion’s. And this was angry Fire, roaring toward me. A streak of orange-gold burst from the ice, spiraling outward from the lake. It roared with a fury that didn’t belong. The heat engulfed me, only giving me just enough time to turn my body half away.

The Binding snapped.

A hiss of light exploded, and fire licked around my left side, like a living thing. Pain ripped through my consciousness, so that it was all I knew. Barely registering the slide of my body across the stone, blistering heat replacing any thoughts.

I screamed.

Ardorion yelled my name, I think, but the smell of charred flesh overwhelmed any of my five senses.

Cool tears escaped my closed eyes, the only thing I could do besides groan, curled against the stone floor where agony became my friend. The pain was sharp, a deep, stinging burn across my shoulder and arm.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out again. The moment the spell broke, the agony settled like frostbite beneath my skin, clinging and pulsing with every breath. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to rise from the ground. But I couldn’t. I stayed curled where I had landed, jaw clenched, breath shallow.

“Little Moon, look at me.”

Neir’s voice came from far away but I followed the echo of his syllables to claw out of the darkness of my suffering and open my eyes.

He was so beautiful, his face clouded with worry.

“Neir, it hurts.”

“I know, Little Moon.”

My eyes fell closed again, with the sounds of shuffling near my head. Then I was lost in the haze of pain again. This is all I knew until the pain dramatically lessened.

Cold magic washed over me. Aster.

With the gradual reduction in pain, I opened blurry eyes again.

Aster’s hands hovered just inches above my burned side—the whole arm and shoulder had been singed, exposing muscle and tendons beneath blackened skin, blue blood congealing in the center.

While Aster healed me, her expression set with quiet focus. My body arched with her rush of cold magic, and steam rose into the air. I gasped as the pain ebbed. Her Water magic flooded through me like a balm, chasing out the fire, soothing every broken nerve.

When she finished, Neir helped me sit up, one hand steadying my back, the other guiding my fingers into his. I let him hold me, only for a moment. The strength of him, the solid presence, was everything I needed. But I still could not look at him.

Neir’s free hand brushed gently against my hair, his eyes wide with a panic he tried to hide. “You should not be here.”

I wanted that to be enough. That voice, that worry. I wanted it to pull me from the ache. But it didn’t. The skin of my arm and shoulder remained unblemished. Only the missing sleeves of my robe and dress testified that I had been burned. But my skin still screamed, my nerves blistered, remembering the pain of having been burned. No amount of tenderness could fix it.

“Why is that, Neir?” I finally looked at him. “Because I’m a hybrid and not strong enough?”

His hand slid from my hair to cup my jaw and force me to look at him, his panic turned into anger. “You are strong, strong enough for this, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a student. You and all of your friends. None of you should be here.”

I tried to push away from him, tired. He was a wall of muscle that didn’t budge. The bare skin of his chest seemed to heat beneath my palms, and I blushed.

I had to put space between us, so I shook my head as I stood, ignoring his help. “Good thing it is not your choice.”

In the next moment, his arms wrapped around me. I gave in, then, sinking into the warmth. I wanted to forget the truth just for a second. I wanted to believe we were safe, that we could save Halven.

That I hadn’t almost died.

But we weren’t safe. Neir had every right to worry.

That didn’t change the fact that Halven was still in the ice.

Voices began to rise around us. I pulled away from Neir. His hands slipped from me slowly, but he didn’t stop me. My legs trembled, but I would not sit again. Not while Halven was still trapped. Not while Isa looked like she was giving up.

Then I noticed Garnexis sitting against the wall as well. Blue blood matted her red hair.

Who else had been hurt? Looking at my friends, everyone else seemed whole and unharmed.

Shara’s low voice cut through the din. “He’s still trapped.”

She stood near Halven, her gaze on our friend, the reason we were here.

Elio clenched his fists. “Why did fire come from the lake? They attacked with both Fire and Water.”

Most of us looked to Isa for the answer.

Then Ardorion said, “I felt their Fire magic. Before. When we first came here.”

This was a chance for Lady Isa to finally be entirely truthful with us, but even though she opened her mouth, nothing came out.

Shara crossed my arms. “What kind of magic do these entities even have?”

Isa looked so tired as she glanced at the fractured ice. So much older in that moment. “We failed. That’s all you need to know.”

Ardorion’s haired flared. “Why not tell us the truth?”

Isa moved to the wall of ice and let her fingers trail along it, slow and careful. I watched her chest rise with a deep breath before she turned back toward us. Her voice was calm, but something behind it trembled. “There are truths that are not my own to tell. I have no right to interfere in edicts of the gods.”

The gods?

The words hit me like cold water. I looked at Halven, still frozen, still reaching. Had we been standing inches away from something divine this whole time?

Something stirred in me, low and unsettled. The Firebird was a god. He had spoken to us with sorrow in his voice. He had said we had to keep them sleeping. But what did that mean? How were we to do that? And were these... entities... ever meant to wake?

The thought pressed against my ribs, aching. Magic like this wasn’t just old. It was sacred. Or dangerous. Or both.

I didn’t know if we were strong enough. I didn’t know if I was strong enough.

Then Ardorion stepped forward, his voice sure. “What if Binding isn’t enough? What if we try Fusion too? To trap the entities’ magic before it can react? We create a containment with Fusion to control their magic, then try the Binding spell.”

I held my breath. Maybe that could work. Maybe... we still had a chance.

Veyn and Isa shared a look. Isa’s weariness was still there, but something steadier replaced it.

Veyn’s brow furrowed, his voice low and sharp when he spoke. “Isa, this is too dangerous. We nearly lost two of them already.”

Isa’s jaw tensed, but her tone stayed level. “Fusion may offer the stabilization we lacked. We will control it.”

“Control?” Neir stepped forward now, his voice colder than the mist rising at our feet. “You speak of control, but one student was nearly burned alive and the other crushed. This spell should not involve them at all. They should never have been here.”

Isa turned to him fully. “They are my students, Neir. And I will not deny them this. Not when they came to save the one we failed to protect.”

“You’re risking them.”

“They know the risk,” Isa said, her voice gaining strength. “And if they choose to go on, I will allow it.”

Neir’s gaze flicked to me, then darkened. His silence said more than any words.

Veyn blew out a breath, rubbing his forehead, then looked at Ardorion. “You believe this will work?”

Ardorion nodded.

Veyn sighed. “Fine. We try again. Three pairs for the Binding Spell. As before, Isa and I will add our magic to anchor the Binding on the entities. While Ardorion and...”

“Aster,” Ardorion said. “We’ve practiced Fusion already, and the entities used both Water and Fire magic to attack us. Aster and I are perfect for combatting the attack with a containment made of our Fusion.”

Veyn nodded again, slower this time. “Ardorion and Aster will contain the entities’ magic through Fusion. We need to be careful. We cannot afford another collapse, for anyone to get hurt again. If the entities begin to fight back and make it through the Fusion containment, we drop the spell immediately.”

Isa stepped forward, her voice rising with fresh resolve. “Choose the partner whose magic aligns best with yours. Trust is essential. Find the pair you can hold your intent with.”

Before the words had even fully landed, I knew.

Shara was already turning toward me.

Our eyes met, and her look said everything. I gave a small smile, not just from relief but because we both knew this had been the answer from the beginning. She was the one I trusted, the one who always knew how to steady me when my thoughts spiraled too far. We did not need to speak. We just moved toward one another.

Others weren’t so quiet.

“I claim Elio,” Garnexis said flatly, without hesitation, a hand cutting through the air.

A sharp crack broke through the quiet as Orivian slammed his hand against the desk, scattering a few pages that fluttered to the ground. He didn’t look at any of us. He just turned and walked away, shoulders tight, jaw locked, fury in every step.

“Really? Throwing tantrums now? Someone get the baby a blanket,” Garnexis muttered with a roll of her eyes.

Shara’s mouth twitched like she might have been fighting a smirk. I glanced down, not wanting to laugh, not with the tension still thick around us. But I felt steadier than I had a moment ago.

But Shara was my partner. I would not face this alone.

My hand trembled just slightly as I lay it over Shara’s on the ice. Her calm flowed through her eyes, quieting the remnants of fear inside me. There was no doubt in hers, only focus and the strength she always carried even when she faltered. I tried to match it.

“We bind this power to nature, our anchor,” we said together. “Let it hold what cannot be held. Let it steady what would shatter. Together.”

The words slid through the chamber like a chord struck true.

Wood and Moon collided in front of us, curling through one another like ivy and mist. Shara’s aura bloomed in copper and green, rich and full like leaves at high summer. Mine shimmered pale silver-blue, like moonlight drifting across a midnight pond. Where they met, the colors pulsed into the ice in delicate threads that wound into the root veins deep beneath the stone.

The connection vibrated, slow and steady. I felt it settle in my bones. Moon and Wood were not natural allies nor enemies, but Shara made it work either way. She always did.

The moment the Binding threads began to shimmer, I knew we were close. Our spell had taken. Magic was humming through my hands, laced into Shara’s steady grip, our auras curling around each other in soft waves of copper and moonlight. The threads ran clean, tight, no tremor of doubt between us.

Shara then anchored our individual spell to whatever natural elemental she’d found of her own. There were no plants in the chamber, so I was sure what she was using, but I felt the moment our Binding solidified.

Then somewhere deeper in the ice, the Fusion spell built its rhythm. Fire and Water danced in delicate balance. Just beyond them, Neir stood like a sentinel carved of stillness, his Moon magic spreading in pale ripples that pushed into the icy wall. Every breath I took carried that cold inside.

For a breathless moment, it all held.

Shara’s magic stayed steady beneath my hand, her focus a firm line of purpose I could lean into. Our threads shimmered in harmony, sinking deeper into the frozen wall, into the roots of the lakebed where the Binding needed to take hold.

Further down the curve of the chamber, Ardorion and Aster moved in tandem, fire and water spiraling in careful circles. Their Fusion curled toward the base of the wall, rising and falling like a wave timed to breath.

Threads of light spread across the ice wall, drifting outward until they curved toward Halven. Each one pulled gently to him, like veins converging on a single heartbeat. The Binding spell held. For the first time, it wasn’t flickering or fractured. It was whole. Beautiful. Steady.

Veyn lifted his hands and guided the threads, his movements smooth and certain. His shoulders eased, just slightly, as the tension bled from him. His magic gathered the Binding and directed it toward the lake’s center, where the pressure had always felt deepest. Where the entities waited. Gold-green light pulsed around him, growing stronger with every breath.

Then Isa moved closer to Halven. She laid her hands on the ice just outside the block that held him. Magic curled around her wrists, soft spirals of Air and Water that shimmered in the mist. Her focus didn’t waver. She worked carefully, gently drawing apart the old spell that kept Halven sealed in place. I heard it, a delicate cracking sound as frost gave way beneath her fingers.

Neir stepped forward.

My breath caught.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t hesitate. He just placed both hands on the ice beside Isa. I knew the way his magic felt before it even flared. Moonlight poured across his arms in a rush of silvery-white, not wild but intentional, like a river flowing exactly where it meant to. Another spell took shape beneath his palms, delicate, quiet, layered in ways I could just barely follow.

It was a lullaby. One meant to slip into the cracks of the entities’ magic and coax them back into sleep.

The light around the chamber shifted, softened. The glow surrounding Halven’s ice dimmed, its sharp edges softening into something gentler. But the magic was still there, alive and pulsing. It felt closer. Like we were finally reaching him.

I couldn’t speak. A tightness formed at the back of my throat, part awe, part disbelief. None of this had been part of what we prepared for. Not the double layering of spells. Not the way Fusion and Binding had somehow found their rhythm. And yet… it was holding. Somehow, it was working.

Magic hummed through my hands, laced into Shara’s steady grip, our auras curling around each other in soft waves of copper and moonlight. All the threads ran clean, tight, no tremor of doubt between us.

The chamber had never felt so full. Magic surged around us, layered and alive. Fire. Water. Wood. Moon. Earth. Air. Metal. All of it. All of us. The spell wasn’t fragile anymore. It pulsed like a living thing.

Somewhere deeper in the ice, the Fusion spell built its rhythm. Fire and Water danced in delicate balance, Aster and Ardorion turning their palms in perfect opposition. Just beyond them, Neir knelt like a sentinel carved of stillness, his Moon magic spreading in pale ripples that brushed the mist along the chamber floor. Every breath I took carried that cold inside.

And then—

A flicker.

It started low in the wall, deep where Neir’s spell flowed.

A shift.

A tension in the ice that was not part of the spell.

A heartbeat.

Something pushed back. Not against one of us. Against all of us.

My fingers twitched against Shara’s. I glanced at her. Her brow was furrowed, her magic still steady, but her body had gone rigid.

Then it started.

A single hairline crack spread beneath the threads we’d just woven.

My heart clenched.

The lake was no longer still. It was thawing.

Then the cracks deepened.

A sound, almost too soft to hear, spidered through the ice, a sharp hairline split. I didn’t turn. I didn’t blink. I focused on the rhythm of our shared intent. But then water ran down the wall like veins bursting open, slipping across the fissures with a quiet urgency.

Screams echoed. Not from us.

From within the ice.

The sound came from the frozen lake itself, too many voices rising together, furious and ancient. Magic howled in response. My spine went rigid as power surged, raw and uncontrolled.

Fire surged through the cracks, streaking across the ice like veins of lightning, warping the frost into steam. Slivers of Moonlight followed, too bright, too sharp, turning everything luminous and wild. Water magic surged after it, rushing in like a tide that couldn’t be stopped. I felt the moment it all collided, too much, too fast. The magic turned chaotic.

Across the chamber, Ardorion and Aster faltered. Their Fusion trembled under the pressure. Something about it had tangled. Their rhythm gone. Their spell breaking.

Then a scream rose above all the others. One I hadn’t heard before. Too sharp, too full of pain. It cut through everything, slicing down my spine like a blade made of sorrow. The echo didn’t stop. It rang out again and again, like voices being torn from the world. Like gods unraveling.

The air split open around us. I felt the pressure before I saw the magic. Fire. Water. Moon. All of it colliding, none of it finding harmony. The spellwork shattered. Power lashed out, wild and furious.

I couldn’t hold my magic steady. It faltered. The thread between Shara and me detonated with a soundless shatter of light. I turned my head toward the ice. The cracks spread faster now. Water bled freely down the wall. Another scream peeled from the depths. My skin went cold.

Isa’s voice shattered through the rising noise. “Break the spell! Break it now!”

She had never sounded so afraid.

I staggered upright. Shara’s aura flared wild, disconnected. Elio looked stunned. Lo’s hair whipped in a sudden wind not her own. The Fusion threads cracked like glass. Energy from the lake surged toward us, and I flinched, preparing to be burned again.

Then Neir lifted his hands, not speaking, and a shiver ran through the air, like the moment before a storm breaks. I recognized his spell to manipulate Gravity. His magic erupted across the chamber, flaring in a great dome that shimmered over the entire ice wall. It met the rising chaos from the entities with a deep, echoing sound, a dull roar like thunder beneath the lake. Neir dropped to one knee, breath hitched, barely holding himself up.

The shield shimmered around him like silver glass, but it flickered at the edges. His body trembled from the strain. His breath came uneven.

I didn’t hesitate.

My legs moved before my mind caught up, carrying me across the frozen chamber. I dropped beside him, placing my hands gently against his back. His muscles were coiled tight. His magic pulsed like a second heartbeat.

He didn’t look at me. He didn’t need to.

I leaned forward, close to his ear. “I trust you.”

He looked at me just long enough for me to see the agony in his eyes. And then he nodded.

I let go.

The spell was old, but we had all learned it. Transference. A way to offer your magic to another. We were taught it so that we could give control to our professors while trying dangerous spells. I had never imagined using it like this. Not with him.

But I didn’t stop.

My power moved from me into him, Moon magic transferring from my palm into his spine, lacing through his veins, boosting him. The Transference was soft at first, like fog curling across frost. Then deeper, heavier, until my body slumped from the weight of it, but I kept a physical connection with Neir to ensure my magic stayed open to him.

His magic caught mine, wrapped around it, pulled it into the shape he needed. The dome of Gravity shimmered stronger. My silver glow thinned as his spell flared brighter. I didn’t know if it would be enough. I couldn’t see the dome anymore. Only light behind my eyes and the echo of his magic laced through mine.

Everything outside of that began to blur.

Somewhere beyond us, I heard Isa falter. I think Aster reached her. There was a crack of frost, a rush of air, someone calling out. But I couldn’t lift my head.

Lo moved. Then Shara.

I knew, somehow, they were helping too. The others followed my lead to offer their magic to bolster the elder magic users. But my strength was already spilling from me, thread by thread, into Neir’s hands.

That was all I had left to give.

At some point, Isa must have finished refreezing the lake, sealing the entities back in, because Neir released my magic. With the release, everything fell dark for the second time this night.

When I woke, it was in a haze.

Everything was muffled. Like I was underwater again.

My body refused to move at first, but I recognized the arms holding me. My chest ached. Neir. He cradled me to his chest.

I flexed my hands. My fingertips tingled like someone had siphoned the magic straight out of my veins.

Voices rose and fell around me, distorted, far away.

“They’re killing him…”

That voice. Lo?

“Not for long.”

Isa.

Magic rippled in the air nearby, pulling at me like it wanted something more. More words. I couldn’t make them out, just the hum of intent. A binding rhythm.

My lashes fluttered. I saw nothing but light behind my eyes, threads moving like starlight caught in mist.

Then something steadied. Pressure released.

I didn’t know what had changed, only that the air no longer screamed. The magic no longer clawed.

And somewhere beyond the haze, I exhaled.

Figures formed in the mist of the chamber. Neir noticing my stirring, carefully released my legs, my body sliding down his while he still held me close with one arm.

He kissed my forehead. “Thank you, Little Moon.”

My heart warmed. I wanted it to be full, and it would have been if not for Halven. With a sigh, I squinted to make out that Halven was still in his icy prison, safe from the entities, but lost to us.

The other students around the chamber huddled together. Elio leaned into Lo. Ardorion rubbed his arms, trying to stay warm. Veyn held Shara’s hand. Garnexis pulled her arms tight over her chest, ignoring Orivian, who looked like a lost puppy.

Someone whispered nearby. Their voice was muffled, distant. Maybe asking what we were supposed to do now. Maybe asking if Halven could still be saved. Another voice followed, low and uncertain. “Should we find more magic users?” Then, softer still, “Can we even save him?”

The silence grew heavy, the cold even more so. But this cold felt different now. It wasn’t just the frost in the air or the ice beneath us. It was in my chest. In my thoughts. It came from everything we had given and everything we couldn’t fix.

Shara moved away from Veyn, pacing toward Halven, then turning away just as quickly. Her face flushed. “We accomplished nothing!”

The words hurt.

No one spoke. No one denied it.

We just stared at the ice.

At Halven.

Still sealed inside. Still waiting.

Isa straightened looking as exhausted as I felt. “We’ve done what we could—”

“What did we do exactly?” Lo asked. Her voice cracked. Her cheeks were wet.

Isa’s voice was gentler than I expected. “Some things are just more powerful than what we have the ability to control. This is one of those things.”

I didn’t mean to speak. The words just came. “I can’t accept that.”

For a breath, no one replied. Then a voice, soft but firm, answered me.

“You don’t have to.”

It wasn’t anyone in the room we knew.

I turned—everyone did—and watched as the mist near the chamber entrance parted on its own. Not blown or pushed. Like it knew to step aside.

And out of it came something... someone.

She had the shape of a woman, but there was nothing human about her. Her skin was almost translucent, blue-white like frost catching moonlight. Bare feet touched the stone as if gravity had no say in it. She was a wraith, a ghost that both moved the mist and allowed the mist to move through her.

She was breathtaking. Terrifying. Beautiful in a way that didn’t feel safe.

The Kōri-onna.

A presence not made for the living. A chill wrapped around my ribs, breath stalling in my chest.

Her voice flowed with the mist at her feet. “I can help you. But someone will die.”