The next night, the Seal pressed cold into my bones. Frost crept along the desk where papers lay scattered in uneven piles. Across the far wall, the ice glowed faintly, Halven’s hand pressed flat to its surface, his body trapped inside the block that held him suspended. His face lay calm in the blue sheen, but the sight tightened something deep inside me.

We gathered in a half circle before the elders, to include Yukari.

Isa’s presence carried the weight of command, yet tonight even she kept her voice level, as if straining to hold it steady.

“Tonight we attempt what has failed before. Fusion to keep the lake stable. Binding to return the entities to their prison. But first, the Transmutation. The increased power will give us what we need to maintain the spell and keep the entities from attacking us.”

Unease shifted through the group like a current. None of us had been told who the Transmutation would claim. That silence pressed biting against my ribs. Aster’s arms folded tight, her eyes darting toward Isa, then Yukari, then away again. Garnexis crossed her arms over her armor, chin high, jaw locked against doubt. Shara glanced once at Veyn, gaze lingering on him as if willing fate to pass him by. Rielle stood stiff beside me, eyes fixed on Halven, deliberately refusing to glance at Neir though his presence loomed near her.

The chamber held not only the four of us but also Lo and Elio, watchful in the back, and Orivian, his posture taut with restless energy. None of them spoke, yet their presence pressed close, a reminder that this night demanded everything from all of us. And we were ready for it, to gain our friend back.

Isa let the quiet settle. “Now you know the order. But not the one who gives up their life tonight.”

The tension thickened. My pulse jumped hard in my throat.

Yukari stepped forward. Her body blurred at the edges, wraithlike strands of silvery-blue mist rising from her arms and dissolving before reforming again. Hair the color of water drifted in the cold current, threaded with streaks of frosted white. Luminous blue eyes swept over us, unblinking. “It is me. I will be the one Transmutated.”

The words cut through us like a blade drawn across stone. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She spoke as though she had announced the weather, not her own death. Yet I couldn’t help but to feel relieved that it was her and not any of our teachers, or Neir for Rielle’s sake.

Elio staggered a half step forward, his voice cracking, shaking his head. “I don’t know about anyone else, but Transmutating a person is a lot different than a plant. You cannot ask us to kill you, or anyone.”

Yukari’s mouth curved, part pity but mostly humor. “While I appreciate your honorable nature, dragon, I am not asking. I’m telling you. My hands have ended more lives than all the combined years you all have been alive. A thousand times over. Whole villages destroyed under my command. Minds broken while they begged for death. Some deserved it. Many did not.”

The silence in the chamber was unlike anything I’d ever heard. None of us, save for Garnexis, would know what she spoke of. We grew up in peace, where death often came only when a person was ready to move on to the afterlife.

Her voice hollowed, carrying the weight of centuries. “That debt binds me more tightly than any chain. Tonight, it ends with me. Tonight, I begin my redemption before seeking it in the eight hells.”

Silence swelled. My fists pressed against my thighs. The wrongness of ending her life clawed at my chest, but something hot stirred beneath it. The sheer force of what she carried, what she meant to give, promised a power I had never felt before.

Her blue eyes lifted to Isa. “When the Transmutation is done, Neir, Rielle, and Aster will need to bind what remains of me into Isa. Once complete, Isa will have access to my energy to use in the Binding of the entities to the lake.”

Isa inclined her head, her expression unreadable.

Yukari’s form flickered again, mist curling off her shoulders and drifting into the air before snapping back into her shape. “This is how you will save everyone, so don’t weep for my corrupted soul.”

We closed a circle around Yukari as she knelt in the center, her form steady, the mist at her edges rising and curling like ribbons of smoke.

Isa lifted her hands, her voice carrying across the chamber. “Find your element within her. Draw all of it free.”

Power stirred as each of us reached inward for the strength to control our element. Each of my friends either battled their own revulsion or embraced their determination. Maybe both.

Rielle’s breath shook, but Neir’s hand hovered near hers, guiding her without words. Shara braced herself, teeth clenched, every motion taut with the battle between relief and guilt. Garnexis stood with arms planted firm, her focus unbroken, her resolve fixed on Halven’s frozen hand against the wall.

My own magic strained against the task. Yukari carried Winter in every vein. My fire scraped for a spark, any trace of heat hidden inside her endless cold. For a moment there was nothing, only ice, only silence. Then I caught it. Faint warmth, the fire born from the smallest reactions deep inside her body, hidden but alive. I seized it and pulled.

Light gathered around her like a net spun from all directions. Threads of vine, stone, current, and breeze tangled with mine. Her body began to unweave, strands of water, shadow, and moonlight dissolving into the circle. She sagged but her expression held peace, eyelids lowering as if she surrendered herself to a long-awaited rest.

The power we drew from her built higher than anything I had touched before. It roared through me, fire braided with ice, a storm that burned hotter for the resistance of its origin. The plant we had unraveled in training had carried only stillness.

This carried a mind. Each thread pulled from her soul whispered memory, choice, and the burden of centuries, filled with terrible decisions.

Yukari’s edges thinned, the shape of her dissolving, eerily similar to how she often dissolved into mist before reforming. But this time, her form collapsed into brilliance, every last strand of her unraveling until nothing remained but a seething mass of radiant mist suspended.

My chest heaved, sweat chilling against my skin. Awe gripped me. That much power could tear us apart. Yet it would not. It would save Halven. It would save us all.

The mass of energy Yukari had become writhed in the chamber, blazing like lightning contained inside a storm. Threads of power lashed outward, striking at the air, threatening to rip free of us. If it scattered, everything we had done would vanish with it.

Isa stepped forward, her jaw tight, her body trembling with the strain of trying to master the energy. “Now. Bind it to me, to my center in my womb.”

Neir lifted his hand, steady as always, Rielle and Aster following suit on either side of him. Threads of silver, blue, and lavender climbed toward Isa, twisting together. My fire wanted to flare hot beside them, but I held it. This wasn’t about me. My strength had to be steady, not loud.

Rielle’s voice shook when she spoke the intention with the others. “We bind what remains of Yukari into Isa, so her power may guard Wintermere.”

Neir’s tone cut through hers, firm, anchoring. His control pressed down on the storm, like stone over flame. The spell shoved Yukari’s essence toward Isa, and it slammed into her like a flood into a single vessel. She staggered, a cry tearing through the chamber, but she held her ground.

Light gathered in her abdomen, a glow steady and pulsing, alive with Yukari’s power. Isa straightened, her chest heaving, and the storm quieted at once. The pulse of energy light also faded. The Binding was complete.

Isa moved to the block of ice where Halven waited. Veyn and Neir stepped with her, the three of them casting long shadows in the glow of my friend’s prison.

The rest of us spread out along the wall. Aster’s hand pressed against mine, palm to palm, fingers steady. The warmth of her skin steadied me as much as the certainty in her eyes. For the first time, I believed this would work.

“Begin Aster and Ardorion.” Isa’s command rang loud in the chamber.

We began the Fusion spell, our magic twining together and plunging deep into Wintermere. Fire coiled with water, and the lake trembled. Cracks spidered outward across the frozen surface, jagged lines threatening to split as they had before.

Then Isa blazed. Yukari’s power erupted inside her, and the chamber filled with light so fierce it erased every shadow. The air roared, wind surging in circles around us. None of us could look at Isa, her form swallowed by brilliance, but the command in her voice rang out again. “Begin the Binding spell.”

I tore my magic from the Fusion spell, and Aster and I immediately turned toward our shared intentions for the Binding Spell. As the stronger magic user, she placed her palm on the ice, and I laid my hand over hers. She took our combined magic and anchored it to the water before hurling it into the greater spell. The one Veyn brought together to anchor before using it to bind the entities.

All of our magic burned bright together. Fire colliding with threads of Water, Moon, Wood, Air, Earth, Sun, and Metal. All of us pouring everything into the wall. The entities answered with their howls, voices clawing through the ice, furious and endless. The wall shook with their rage.

Then Isa’s glow surged into frozen lake, Yukari’s energy coursing like a beacon through her. The fight in the entities faltered. Their cries weakened. The fractures in the ice sealed over in luminous frost, hardening until the chamber quaked with silence.

Neir pressed a hand to the ice, his eyes closed in focus. The magic he wove sank beneath the surface, hidden from me, but the lake stilled. We all knew he used a spell to put the entities deep into dreams. Sleep had at last claimed the monsters.

Our magic retreated, but the Seal remained bright. Isa and Veyn then cast their power into the ice prison holding Halven. The glow unraveled whatever spell took hold there, the frozen wall melting into streams that coursed across the stone floor. Halven collapsed out of it, his body striking the ground, skin drained of color but breath stirring in his chest.

We moved to catch him. Veyn was there first, raising him to his feet. The two exchanged a glance and a weary smile, and I remembered now that they had been friends for several years before Veyn even attended the Academy as a student.

A cheer rose in my throat, choked by the awe of it all. We had done it. Against everything, we had brought him back.

Then Lo darted forward, flinging herself around Halven, her lips pressed quick and desperate against his. Elio stumbled after her, clasping Halven’s shoulder, laughter breaking through his ragged breath.

I shoved through the tangle of limbs and threw my arm around his back, giving him my own solid clap between the shoulders. “Missed you, bro. Don’t do that again unless you want me to replace you as captain of our bro squad.”

His mouth curved, though his voice barely rose above a whisper. “Thanks.”

We all paused with his first word in months, and he looked at all of us, meeting each of our gazes. He smiled and his brown eyes held genuine warmth.

I don’t know about anyone else, but I stood a little taller. I also felt wetness hit my cheeks. I brushed away tears as I backed away for Shara. She gripped Halven’s hand from the side, anchoring him as Lo refused to let go. Not that Halven complained as he kept one arm firmly around her waist.

When I backed away, I noticed that Rielle and Garnexis hadn’t moved forward.

I understood why Rielle wouldn’t. Lo was Halven’s girlfriend. Rielle was his ex.

But Garnexis surprised me. She lingered at the edge, looking almost like she was ready to leave, though Halven’s gaze caught hers across the chamber. Their shared nod carried more than words, something forged in battles none of us could name. Yet even with that exchange, Garnexis didn’t seem anymore settled. Something was going on with her, but Halven’s laugher drew my attention.

The laugh had been hoarse but real to something Elio was saying. I only caught the end of the conversation.

“You’d better start studying tonight if you want to pass finals.”

Laughter shook through the chamber, tangled with sniffles. The sound loosened something tight inside my chest, a knot I had not known had grown so heavy. For a heartbeat, it felt like nothing had changed, like the nightmare we had lived through had been nothing more than a bad dream.

The chamber quieted, the silence filled only by the rasp of uneven breaths. Yukari was gone, her sacrifice sealed inside Isa. The glow in Isa’s body had faded, but it lived there, a reminder that victory came at a cost.

My gaze drifted to Aster. She stood close, her hand brushing against her arm as though she wished for distance. I swallowed the ache to reach for her, to take her hand and promise her I would never let her stand alone. I didn’t plan to wait much longer before telling her, before trying again to make this thing between us work.

Isa’s voice carried, steady though her face shone with exhaustion. “The lake remembers what you’ve done for Nythral. And it always will. You should feel proud of what you’ve accomplished here, Docilis. I know I do.”

I grinned at Halven, even as my throat burned. “Hear that, bro? We’re legends now.”

The next night, the Seal lay in silence, its air heavy with frost and stone. Papers littered the desk in uneven piles. Across the far wall, the frozen lake carried a faint glow. Halven stood suspended inside the icy block, one hand pressed to ice wall’s surface, his face serene within the blue sheen. The sight left me uneasy, too much like death disguised as calm.

We gathered in a half circle before the elders, to include Yukari.

Isa’s gaze held authority as always, yet right now her voice carried effortless steadiness belied in the tired lines around her eyes.

“Tonight we attempt what has failed before. Fusion to keep the lake stable. Binding to return the entities to their prison. But first, the Transmutation. The increased power will give us what we need to maintain the spell and keep the entities from attacking us.”

The words twisted through me. None of us had been told who the spell would take. My eyes slid to Veyn, searching his face, his stillness, the dark vines resting against his collar. My stomach clenched until it hurt. If it was him, if he meant to give himself away, I would not survive it.

Next to me, Garnexis stood rigid, arms crossed over her armor, chin lifted like she dared fate to test her. Rielle’s eyes clung to Halven’s frozen form, her posture taut with the effort of ignoring Neir, though his shadow pressed close at her side. Ardorion shifted restlessly beside the others, his confidence dulled for once, as if even he had no jest sharp enough to cut through the tension.

We did not stand alone. Lo and Elio lingered at the edge of our group, subdued in their silence. Orivian kept himself near Garnexis, though his eyes swept the chamber with his usual defiance. Aster stood apart, her stillness threaded with unease. Every one of us had been summoned, no escape from what would be asked tonight. Nor would any of us want to escape if staying meant Halven would be freed.

Isa let the silence drag. “Now you know the order. But not the one who gives up their life tonight.”

My throat burned. Every part of me screamed at the thought of Veyn stepping forward.

Yukari moved instead. Her body blurred at the edges, silvery-blue mist spilling from her arms before curling back into shape. Hair the shade of water drifted as though caught in an unseen tide, streaked with white that shimmered like ice. Her eyes, luminous blue and endless, swept over us. “It is me. I will be the one Transmutated.”

Relief crashed through me, violent and overwhelming, leaving guilt in its wake. I wanted to weep with thanks that it was not Veyn, yet shame coiled tight in my gut. To be glad at another’s death, even hers, blackened me.

Elio staggered forward, voice breaking, head shaking as if to deny what he had heard. “I don’t know about anyone else, but Transmutating a person is a lot different than a plant. You cannot ask us to kill you, or anyone.”

Yukari’s mouth curved, humor edged with pity. “While I appreciate your honorable nature, dragon, I am not asking. I’m telling you. My hands have ended more lives than all the combined years you all have been alive. A thousand times over. Whole villages destroyed under my command. Minds broken in silence until they begged for death. Some deserved it. Many did not.”

The chamber fell silent. My heart hammered with the truth of her words. Besides Garnexis, we had grown up in a place of safety, where death came rarely and with reason. Yukari spoke of a world stripped bare of mercy.

Her voice hollowed, carrying centuries of shadow. “That debt binds me more tightly than any chain. Tonight, it ends with me. Tonight, I begin my redemption before seeking it in the eight hells.”

The thought of ending her struck wrong, yet the scales she described left little question. One death against thousands already lost, and thousands more spared. My acceptance startled me. I had not thought myself capable of it, but her own words sharpened the truth. If she chose it, if this sacrifice saved Halven, saved Nythral, saved the world, then how could I deny her?

Her eyes, luminous as glacier fire, lifted to Isa. “When the Transmutation is done, Neir, Rielle, and Aster will need to bind what remains of me into Isa. Once complete, Isa will have access to my energy to use in the Binding of the entities to the lake.”

Isa inclined her head, her face unreadable.

Yukari’s shape flickered again, strands of mist peeling from her shoulders before snapping back. “This is how you will save everyone, so don’t weep for my corrupted soul.”

We closed the circle around Yukari where she knelt, the mist at her edges unraveling and curling back into place like threads unwilling to let go.

Isa raised her hands, her voice even. “Find your element within her. Draw all of it free.”

I reached for Wood, bracing against the hollow fear gnawing inside me. Many thought of the elements as stone and branch, as flame or stream, but those were only their surfaces. The truth lived deeper. Wood was not just bark or leaf but the web between all things, the breath that tied one life to the next.

Veyn had taught me this. Before he’d left me.

That web flickered within Yukari. Every soul she had touched, every life she had broken or ended, clung to her in unseen threads. I grasped them, tugging them loose strand by strand. The threads carried echoes of choice, of cruelty and command, but also a quiet strain of wisdom buried beneath. The centuries had carved her like the rings of an ancient tree, each circle a record of power gained, squandered, or endured.

Her wisdom bled into me as I pulled, and with it the strength that had carried her across ages. Not softness, not mercy, but the resilience of roots driven deep into unyielding ground. That became my anchor, the gift I offered the spell.

Veyn’s magic pressed near, his vines threading alongside mine. Copper and green wove together as our elements tangled, pulling harder, stronger. I clenched my jaw, my body taut with the strain, yet I did not let go.

Rielle’s magic wavered, Neir’s steady hand guiding her back into rhythm. Ardorion wrestled for fire where only ice seemed to live, his jaw set in grim defiance. Garnexis planted herself like stone, her focus unbroken, her gaze fixed on Halven’s hand against the wall.

Light gathered around Yukari, layer upon layer. Her body began to unweave, not violently but like a tapestry undone thread by thread. Water, shadow, and moonlight dissolved into the circle. Her face eased into calm, eyes closing as though at last she welcomed the end.

The plant we had unmade in training had carried only stillness. This carried mind. Memory and will whispered through each strand, heavy with every life she had taken. Still we pulled. Her edges thinned, the familiar blur of her misted form collapsing inward. This time she did not return. She dissolved into brilliance, every last thread unraveling until only a radiant mass of misty energy seethed at the circle’s center.

My chest strained against the power rushing through me. It would have been enough to tear us apart. Yet it would save Halven. It would save everything.

The storm of energy bucked and writhed, wild as a living thing torn loose from its form. Strands lashed outward, searing the chamber with brilliance. If it scattered, all we had done would vanish.

Isa stepped forward, steady though her body trembled under the pressure of power straining to break free. “Now. Bind it to me, to my center in my womb.”

Neir’s hand lifted, and Rielle and Aster raised theirs beside him. Silver, blue, and lavender currents spun into Isa’s body, creating an anchor for Yukari’s energy. Their power flowed like roots entwining, strong and sure. My own Wood magic ached to reach for them, but this was not mine to carry.

Rielle whispered the shared intention with the others, her voice trembling but brave. “We bind what remains of Yukari into Isa, so her power may guard Wintermere.”

Neir steadied her words with his, strong as stone. The spell pressed Yukari’s essence into Isa’s womb, a force that hit like a storm breaking through trees. Isa staggered, her cry carrying through the chamber as her knees nearly buckled, but she held. Light gathered low in her body, glowing with the rhythm of a second pulse. My chest tightened. A seed of life, dangerous but alive, had taken root inside her.

Isa straightened, breath ragged, the brilliance of the storm stilled, sealed within. The light also faded as if Yukari no longer existed.

A thought flickered. Could such power ever be used in full? Did it have limits, a measure that might one day be drained? If not, what would Isa become with Yukari’s energy bound inside her? Questions that could not be spoken. Not now.

Isa crossed to the ice block where Halven remained suspended. Veyn and Neir followed, their figures framed in the glow.

We spread along the frozen wall. Rielle pressed close at my side. I laid my palm flat against the ice, and she placed hers over mine. Her hand trembled, though her touch did not falter.

“Begin Ardorion and Aster.” Isa’s command rang across the chamber.

Their Fusion spell tore through Wintermere. Fire and water collided, cracks spidering across the frozen surface. The same breaking that had doomed us before.

Then Isa blazed. Yukari’s energy poured through her body and into the chamber, drowning every shadow. The wind howled around us, tearing at hair and clothes, until her voice rang out through the brilliance. “Begin the Binding spell.”

Ardorion and Aster must have succeeded.

I pushed Wood into the ice, threads of resilience and root entwining with Rielle’s Moon magic. Her silver light wove through mine, binding stronger together than either alone as we whispered our intentions. Our strands hurled into the greater spell that Veyn anchored.

The chamber roared with the voices of the entities, howls clawing through the ice, testing us, tearing against every tether. Their rage rattled the barrier beneath my hand. Rielle’s grip on me tightened, and I braced harder, pouring every shred of strength I carried into the spell.

Isa’s glow surged through the frozen wall. Yukari’s energy coursed like a beacon in the dark, and the entities faltered. Their cries weakened. The fractures across the ice sealed with luminous frost until silence swallowed the chamber.

Neir stepped forward, hand pressed against the wall. With eyes closed, he slid his magic into the icy depths of Wintermere. I could not read the spell, but the entities stilled completely. The monsters slept again.

The Seal remained bright, but our magic fell away. Isa and Veyn turned their focus to Halven. Light unraveled the prison around him, streams of water coursing over stone. Halven crumpled out of the melting ice, body slack, breath still alive within him.

Veyn steadied Halven first, lifting him up from the stone where he had fallen. Their clasp of hands and weary smiles carried the echo of our old circle, when the three of us stood side by side and nothing seemed able to divide us.

Relief swept me clean, harsh as a hurricane through a forest. Against everything, we had saved him.

Lo rushed forward next, pressing herself against Halven with a fierce kiss, clinging to him as though she might never let go again. Elio stumbled after her, laughter spilling through his breath as he clasped Halven’s shoulder.

Ardorion pushed through to claim his own place at Halven’s side. His arm swept around Halven’s back, his clap loud enough to echo. “Missed you, bro. Don’t do that again unless you want me to replace you as captain of our bro squad.”

Halven’s lips curved faintly, his voice rough, a whisper carried only because the chamber was so still. “Thanks.”

Everything froze for a heartbeat. His first word since he disappeared from our lives. Then his gaze lifted, warm as his eyes met ours one by one. My own throat closed as I moved closer, reaching for his hand. Lo anchored his waist on one side, but he squeezed my fingers with his free hand, grounding me in a way no embrace could have. I held on, selfish for that small claim, my heart remembering all the years before, when he and I leaned on each other to survive the absence Veyn had left when he’d walked away from our friendship.

Across the chamber, Garnexis lingered at the edge. Halven’s gaze caught hers, and their nod carried something unspoken, a shared endurance I would never fully understand. I narrowed my eyes, though, when Halven turned to say something to Elio. Garnexis appeared to be anxious, like a cat ready to bolt at the next loud noise. But then Rielle caught my attention. She also stood back, tears slipping down her cheeks. Neir stood close behind her, something heavy in his look.

Halven’s hoarse laugh drew everyone’s gaze.

Elio laughed with him, saying, “You’d better start studying tonight if you want to pass finals.”

The sound broke us. Laughter tangled with tears until it filled the chamber, a storm of joy and grief all at once. Then silence returned, softer, but not empty. Isa’s glow had faded, yet Yukari’s sacrifice pulsed inside her still, a reminder of what was lost.

My gaze shifted to Veyn. His eyes met mine, steady but weighed by choices I could not forgive. He would always leave if it meant protecting me, but maybe he was no longer what I needed to feel whole. Maybe he never had been.

Isa’s voice carried through the chamber, calm though exhaustion bent her shoulders. “The lake remembers what you’ve done for Nythral. And it always will. You should feel proud of what you’ve accomplished here, Docilis. I know I do.”

I gripped Halven’s hand tighter, happy that at least I had him.

“Hear that, bro?” Ardorion said. “We’re legends now.”

The doors closed behind me with a hush that felt like the end of something I could never name. Cool night air wrapped me, sharp with the faint scent of snow. For a moment I stood still, letting it press against my skin, trying to breathe through the storm inside me. Halven was alive. He was here, walking with the others, and the relief of it nearly buckled my knees. Months of fear had clawed at me, whispering that we might never find him, then save him, that he was gone for good. And now he was back.

But the joy twisted with sorrow. Once it had been the three of us—me, Halven, and Veyn. Easy laughter, late hours, promises that felt unbreakable. Then Veyn left, and Halven had been the one to hold me steady, to ease the jagged edges of that loss. None of it would ever return to what it was. The balance we had once shared lived only in memory, and tonight, even with Halven saved, the space where Veyn and I had fallen apart ached more keenly than ever.

My steps carried me into the courtyard, stone dark beneath the thin gleam of moonlight. Shadows pooled at the edges, but the silver glow touched the frost-laced arches and spilled across the open square. Movement stirred at the far side. A great dire wolf stood at its edge, fur rippling white with streaks of silver and faint blue. Golden eyes met mine across the distance, bright as coals in the dark.

Neir. Rielle’s wolf.

His head dipped in a solemn bow before he turned his attention to the door I’d just exited from. A shiver tracked down my spine, not from the cold, but from the reminder of how much the world had shifted while we had been trapped in grief and searching. Everything moved forward. And yet here I was, chasing refuge the only way I knew.

The library waited for me.

I slipped in through a side door. The empty library breathed around me like an abandoned cathedral, quiet and hollow in the dead of night. Shelves towered, their spines a hundred silent voices staring back, but none of them spoke to me. I curled into the alcove that had always been mine, knees tucked close, a book spread open against them. Candlelight spilled weakly across the page, the wax guttering low in its holder. I had not turned a page in some time. The words blurred, too distant to matter. Hiding in stories should have dulled the ache, but tonight even fiction failed me.

A presence stirred the shadows. My head lifted before I could stop it. Veyn stepped into the faint light, shoulders taut, his stride slow but sure. He lingered at the edge of the alcove as though he did not belong here, yet his eyes carried a resolve I had not seen in months.

“No, Veyn,” I said. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He took a step forward, then stopped with his hands loose at his sides.

“You were right.” His voice rasped, soft enough the candle threatened to swallow it.

Of course he would know that would intrigue me, but I couldn’t allow it to persuade me. I couldn’t handle another heartache, and I was still hurting. “Does it really matter? Too much has been lost.”

He shook his head. “I don’t believe that.”

He took another step forward but again he stopped when I narrowed my eyes. “We’re done.”

“Yes, we are.”

His agreement stopped my heart. To hear him believe the words I kept trying to get my heart to accept hurt more than anything else. It took a moment for me to hold back my tears, but he spoke before I could say anything.

“We were children who experienced a love meant for fairytales. That version of us is done.” His eyes traced the lines of my face. “Now we have to grow up. I’ve made decisions in that effort, so that we could have a love that would continue.”

“Decisions that never asked for my input.” I snapped the words in my anger, unwilling to hold back any longer. Unwilling to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Relationships are about more than one person, and this love you speak of should have included me.”

“You’re right.” His brows drew down. “I have spent everything on protecting you. Every thought, every choice. But it was never what you needed. I didn’t even know what you needed because I never asked.”

My fingers pressed into the spine of the book, nails biting into leather.

“All I ever needed was you,” I said, the words trembling out before I could brace them. “Not your walls, not your distance. Just you, here, present, sharing your life with mine.”

“Again, you’re right.” His jaw tightened. “But may I tell you everything now that I couldn’t before?”

Again, he knew that piquing my interest in this mystery would allow him closer, and this time I couldn’t deny him. I wanted to know it all. I nodded.

He shifted closer.

“Rielle’s foretelling,” he whispered, breath uneven. “That was why I left, which you know already. But you’ve never known what was seen. Rielle dreamed again and again, always of you, always of me. Every path where I stayed ended with your death to the entities. The only way forward was if I left, if I learned what I needed to bind the entities in the lake.”

He rubbed his temple. “No matter what choice I made, I was to lose you, but at least you’d live if I left. So I took that chance.”

So far I had gathered as much about the foretelling, and could I really blame him for that choice?

“So you see that I never meant to abandon you. It was about your survival.”

The candle shuddered in its dish, throwing his shadow long across the stone. His words pressed into me, fierce and tender at once, a blade and a balm. My chest clenched so hard I could hardly breathe. Fury rose, sharp and searing, because he had stolen years from me, stolen choice, stolen truth. Yet beneath it, love curled stubborn as ivy, winding around each syllable he spoke.

My hand shook as I pressed the book closed, the sound echoing through the empty alcove. “Maybe it was that was the right choice, but I was not involved in it.”

His eyes glistened, the dark of them deeper than the night around us. “I was bound. By oath, by fear, by my own childish thinking to save you from a bleak future. I thought it was the only way.”

The ache split me clean through, leaving me torn between wanting to strike him and wanting to cling to him. He had left me because he loved me, and that truth was the cruelest comfort I had ever known.

But I couldn’t allow him to hurt me again.

“Veyshara, please.” He took another step, close enough to touch me and dropped to his knees before me, the stone unforgiving beneath him. His hands pressed into his thighs as though bracing himself against something heavier than his body could carry. His eyes shone in the candlelight, wet, unguarded.

“I’m not perfect, and I’ve made mistakes. My choices were always with you in my heart but never with you as my partner.” His voice broke, the words catching in his throat. “That was my failure. Deciding for you, again and again, and convincing myself it was love.”

The air thickened between us. My chest burned with all the words I had thrown at him over the months, all the pleas, all the anger. For the first time, he gave them back, naming them truth.

He bowed his head, strands of dark brown hair falling loose around his face, his vines almost wilting. “You never needed a protector. You needed someone beside you. And I placed you behind me, thinking I could bear the storms for you. I cannot undo that. I can only promise that I will try not do it again.”

He looked back up at me. “But know this, Veyshara I will make mistakes. I will stumble. But if you let me, I will make them with you, not apart from you.”

The candle wavered, casting his face in shifting gold and shadow. His shoulders trembled with the force of his own words. Nothing was shielded in his eyes or in his expression. “It has always been us. Since we were children, since the first time you made me laugh when I wanted to stay angry. Every memory I carry, you are there. There has never been anyone else. There never will be.”

My throat closed around the flood of emotions. He was not a professor in that moment, not the man bound by oath and vision. He was Veyn, the boy who had once chased me barefoot through the orchard, who had stolen apples just to share them with me, who had kissed me clumsy and earnest under summer skies. The boy who had always been mine, even when he had been gone.

His words pressed through me like roots breaking stone, steady and unstoppable. On his knees before me, he was stripped of every mask, only Veyn, flawed and unguarded, and the truth burned in my chest. He had broken me with his silence, yet even shattered, he was still mine.

My fingers trembled as I lowered the book onto the bench beside me. “I cannot forgive the years you left me with nothing. Maybe I never will.”

My voice cracked, raw but steady enough to hold. “But I’m willing to find if a new version of us will succeed.”

He reached toward me, uncertain, his hand hovering. I placed mine in his, my palm swallowed in his warmth, and the promise became mine as much as his. Partners. Always beside each other.

The next night, the Seal spread its silence around us, thick as the frost threading across the walls. The desk looked abandoned, papers scattered in messy stacks, forgotten in the urgency of what loomed ahead. Across the far wall, Wintermere pulsed faintly blue. Halven stood inside his icy prison. His hand pressed flat against the frozen surface of the wall, his face serene as though sleep had taken him, but the stillness clawed at me.

We gathered in a half circle before the elders, to include Yukari.

Isa’s presence carried authority as it always had, but tonight her voice stayed steady only through effort.

“Tonight we attempt what has failed before. Fusion to keep the lake stable. Binding to return the entities to their prison. But first, the Transmutation. The increased power will give us what we need to maintain the spell and keep the entities from attacking us.”

Her words scraped like stone across the chamber. None of us had been told who would give themselves. Tension pulled tight through the group. Shara’s eyes darted to Veyn, her body taut with fear she could not disguise. Rielle fixed her gaze on Halven’s frozen form, refusing to look at Neir though his nearness pressed heavy around her. Ardorion shifted with restless energy, as though even he had nothing light enough to break the moment. I crossed my arms over my armor, jaw tight, more ready than any of them to end this and bring Halven back.

Then I could leave and put as much distance between Orivian and me as possible.

Even now he crowded me. His posture held defiance as always, but the bond between us pulled like a chain I despised. The nearness of him prickled beneath my skin, unwanted yet impossible to ignore.

The chamber did not belong to us alone. Lo and Elio lingered near the back, their silence an odd contrast to their usual banter. And Aster held herself apart, unease etched in her stillness. This was all of us, the students who completed the semicircle before Isa, bound together by what was about to be demanded.

Isa let the silence linger. “Now you know the order. But not the one who gives up their life tonight.”

Air thinned, tension pressing like steel.

Yukari stepped forward. Her body blurred at the edges, silvery-blue mist unraveling from her arms before drawing back again. Her hair drifted like water pulled by unseen tides, streaked with white, glimmering with diamond ice crystals. Her eyes, cold blue and luminous, swept across us. “It is me. I will be the one Transmutated.”

The words carved into the chamber like a blade. Relief cracked through Shara’s face, guilt shadowing it at once. Rielle’s shoulders sagged with something between grief and release. For me, there was no such conflict. If it was her, so be it. She was not one of us. She was not Halven. That was enough.

Elio stumbled forward, his voice breaking. “I don’t know about anyone else, but Transmutating a person is a lot different than a plant. You cannot ask us to kill you, or anyone.”

Who says?

Yukari’s mouth curved, humor edged with pity. “While I appreciate your honorable nature, dragon, I am not asking. I’m telling you. My hands have ended more lives than all the combined years you all have been alive. A thousand times over. Whole villages destroyed under my command. Minds broken while they begged for death. Some deserved it. Many did not.”

The chamber swallowed her words, silence thick and heavy. The others shrank beneath the truth of what she confessed. Only I understood the weight of war, of hate, of death, and the certainty that some blood could not be cleansed. What she described was not foreign to me.

Her voice deepened, threaded with centuries of shadow. “That debt binds me more tightly than any chain. Tonight, it ends with me. Tonight, I begin my redemption before seeking it in the eight hells.”

The others wavered, unsure if they could end her. I did not. Her choice stripped away doubt. One death for thousands saved. There was no clearer balance than that.

Her gaze lifted to Isa, eyes gleaming with frozen fire. “When the Transmutation is done, Neir, Rielle, and Aster will need to bind what remains of me into Isa. Once complete, Isa will have access to my energy to use in the Binding of the entities to the lake.”

Isa inclined her head, her face unreadable.

Yukari’s body flickered, mist unraveling from her shoulders before pulling back into her form. “This is how you will save everyone, so don’t weep for my corrupted soul.”

No worries, I won’t.

We closed the circle around Yukari where she knelt, mist curling at her edges, her form already blurring as if she had begun to loosen from herself.

Isa raised her hands, her voice carrying. “Find your element within her. Draw all of it free.”

I reached for Metal, steady as ever. Unlike some of the others, I did not need to wrestle to find it in this creature made of water and ice. Metal lived in every body, iron or copper threading through blood depending on the creature, minerals buried in marrow, hidden strength beneath soft flesh. She carried it too, no matter how much Winter claimed her veins. The elements were mine to take.

I sank into it, pulling the trace of ore from her, cold and unyielding. The strands answered quickly, hard and bright, bending into the circle with ease. Where Ardorion clawed for sparks and Shara tangled with her web of roots, I cut clean through to what was always there. Metal had no illusions. It was the marrow of life, and tonight it belonged to us.

Light gathered, threads weaving from every side. Rielle’s magic faltered, wavering until Neir steadied her again. Shara clenched her firsts, torn between guilt and duty. Ardorion strained against the task, fire clawing for purchase where none belonged, his jaw locked in determination. I did not waver. Halven’s frozen hand on the wall fixed my resolve. He was the reason for this. Nothing else mattered.

Yukari’s body began to unweave, strands of water, shadow, and light dissolving into the ring. Her face softened, as if peace had finally found her. Eyes closed, she gave herself over without struggle.

The plant in training had been empty. This carried mind. Each thread sang with memory, with knowledge of centuries of destruction. I did not flinch from the existence of so much life. Metal carried the truth of endings as well as beginnings.

Her edges thinned, unraveling fully. Mist curled, then brilliance overtook her. Every last strand slipped free until only a mass of raw, seething energy mist hovered in her place.

Power rushed through the circle, hard and bright, dangerous enough to break us apart. My stance held firm. This would save Halven. That was all I required.

The chamber shook with the energy Yukari had become, thrashing like a storm ripped from the sky. Strands of brilliance lashed in every direction, threatening to scatter and undo everything we had done.

Isa strode forward, her jaw tight, shoulders straining under the force pressing against her. “Now. Bind it to me, to my center in my womb.”

Neir’s hand went up, Rielle and Aster’s following. Silver, blue, and lavender currents poured into Isa’s body, a braid of power anchoring the chaos. The sight should’ve been beautiful, but it churned like metal warping in a forge. My own magic hummed sharp in response, ready to lash if anything went wrong.

Rielle’s words wavered as she spoke her intentions with the others. “We bind what remains of Yukari into Isa, so her power may guard Wintermere.”

Neir’s voice was solid and unshakable. The magic slammed into Isa, dragging Yukari’s essence straight into her core. She screamed, body folding, but she didn’t fall. Light pulsed in her abdomen, steady and alive, like some cursed brand burning itself into her. The storm fell quiet. Trapped in her.

I flexed my hands, the need to tear Yukari free biting through me. Instead, I stood still, watching Isa hold what no one else could. Whatever Isa had become, none of us would ever match it.

Isa crossed to Halven’s frozen prison with Neir and Veyn at her sides. The rest of us spread along the wall, hands poised for what came next.

Elio pressed his palm to the ice. I set mine over his, his skin hot against mine.

“If this works, if we save Halven, I want to leave tonight,” I said to him, keeping my voice low.

His gaze searched mine. “Are you sure, Garnexis? If you were mine, I would ensure you were cherished.”

I understood the offer said between his words. A flicker of bitterness struck deep. If fate had given me the bond with him, I would have welcomed it.

Elio, steadfast, strong, not one who would have hidden me away as something shameful. I cursed the gods for binding me to Orivian, cursed them for every twisted thread they had spun into my life. Then I shoved the thought aside and braced for the spell.

“I’m not changing my mind.”

He nodded, but his lips thinned.

Softer, I said, “Thank you.”

“Begin Ardorion and Aster.” Isa’s command rolled through the chamber.

Their Fusion rattled Wintermere, fire and water colliding until cracks split across the ice. The same breaking that had nearly undone us before.

Then Isa blazed. Yukari’s energy coursed through her, the brilliance devouring every shadow. Wind roared through the chamber, shredding across us, until her command broke through the storm. “Begin the Binding spell.”

Elio’s magic surged steady, carrying mine with it with our shared whispered intention. Metal joined to his strength, the iron in blood and bone threading into the wall. My focus locked on his, steady as the earth itself, until our strands hurled into the greater spell Veyn anchored.

The entities howled, rage clawing through the ice, pressing against our magic, but their fury no longer carried the same force. I pressed harder, driving everything I carried into the barrier, letting Elio pull me into his rhythm as he anchored our magic in the elements.

Isa’s glow tore into Wintermere, Yukari’s power burning like a beacon through her body. The entities faltered. Their cries cracked, weakened, then dwindled to silence. The fractures closed, luminous frost sealing over them, until the chamber shook with stillness.

Neir pressed his hand to the wall, his spell sinking beyond reach. Behind closed eyes he continuously spoke his spell, something my magic couldn’t read. Then the silence deepened. The entities had been put to sleep.

Our magic dissolved, coming back to each of us, and the Seal remained bright as Isa and Veyn turned their magic to Halven’s prison. The ice unraveled their previous Binding spell, streams of water coursing to the floor. Halven collapsed free of it, body slack, but life stirred in him.

Victory surged through the chamber.

Veyn steadied Halven first, hauling him upright with a clasp of hands that spoke of bonds older than this Academy. Lo barreled into him next, lips pressed to his, arms locked around his waist. Elio joined, his laughter cracking through the heaviness as he clasped Halven’s shoulder.

I was happy but my jaw tightened. Fate would never grant me the bond I wanted, never free me from the one I despised. Yet Halven stood alive before me, his breath stirring with his renewed life. That was enough. Whatever else haunted me, tonight we had saved him.

Ardorion’s embrace landed on Halven with the noise of brotherhood, his voice booming through the chamber. “Missed you, bro. Don’t do that again unless you want me to replace you as captain of our bro squad.”

Halven’s lips curved faintly, his voice rasping through the stillness. “Thanks.”

Every gaze sharpened at that single word. Then his eyes lifted, meeting each of us. When they landed on me, he held steady. A nod passed between us, simple and quiet, but it settled the last thing I had come here to do. He knew I had stood with him tonight. That knowledge would matter later when he wondered why I was gone.

Shara caught his hand next, her grip firm, anchoring him beside Lo. Rielle hung back with me, tears streaking her cheeks, but Neir stood to her other side.

The chamber rang with Halven’s laugh, hoarse but alive, as Elio grinned. “You’d better start studying tonight if you want to pass finals.”

Laughter tangled with sobs, breaking the room open. Relief and grief crashed together until even the air trembled with it. For me, the sound carried no ease. My task was finished. I had been here when it mattered. Now I could leave.

My gaze snagged on Orivian. He stared at me, pride and challenge simmering in his eyes. My jaw tightened. That stare alone reminded me why I could not stay. The gods had chained me to him, but I would not let them bind the rest of my life. When his attention shifted away, I edged deeper into the shadows, slipping where he would not find me unless he turned.

Isa’s voice lifted above the murmur. “The lake remembers what you’ve done for Nythral. And it always will. You should feel proud of what you’ve accomplished here, Docilis. I know I do.”

All eyes fixed forward, every face turned to her and Halven. Mine did not. I crossed the threshold out of the chamber, already counting the steps back to my tower, to the bag waiting to take me far from here.

Ardorion’s voice was the last one I heard. “Hear that, bro? We’re legends now.”

The next night, the Seal loomed with its silence. Frost rimmed the stone, pressing the air cold and still. Across the far wall, the frozen lake glimmered faintly blue. Halven stood within his icy prison, one hand pressed against the frozen surface, his face too calm, as if death had dressed itself in serenity.

We gathered in a half circle before the elders, with Yukari among them.

Isa’s voice carried steady across the chamber, though the lines around her eyes betrayed the strain.

“Tonight we attempt what has failed before. Fusion to keep the lake stable. Binding to return the entities to their prison. But first, the Transmutation. The increased power will give us what we need to maintain the spell and keep the entities from attacking us.”

The words struck like iron. None of us had been told who the spell would take, and even though I was here, I had no idea if I could complete my part in the Transmutation spell.

My hands pressed together, nails digging into skin. My weak magic offered so little to what we meant to do here today. No one needed me for my magic anyway. But Neir’s voice from last night haunted my doubts. He had said they still needed me, that I was part of something larger with my friends. And he said he wanted me here, standing with him today. So I was. For them. For him. My chest ached with the effort of holding steady.

I still couldn’t help the deep unease growing like in a plague in my chest.

Garnexis crossed her arms, her expression unyielding. Ardorion shifted with restless energy, for once robbed of easy words. Shara’s gaze clung to Veyn as if her will alone could shield him.

I understood that fear. I had the same for Neir, but I didn’t dare to look at him. Instead, I kept my eyes fixed on Halven, refusing to let them stray anywhere near him. If I looked at him, the tears would come, and I would not stop.

Lo and Elio lingered near the back, subdued, their usual banter stilled. Orivian leaned close to Garnexis, his defiance clinging to him even now. Aster stood apart, her stillness threaded with an unease similar to mine. All of us were here, bound by what this night demanded.

Isa let the silence stretch. “Now you know the order. But not the one who gives up their life tonight.”

My stomach turned to stone. The words scraped against every fear I carried.

Yukari stepped forward. Her body blurred at the edges, strands of silvery-blue mist curling from her arms before drawing back. Her hair drifted like water stirred by unseen currents, streaked with glimmering white ice crystals. Her eyes, cold blue and luminous, swept across us. “It is me. I will be the one Transmutated.”

Relief tore across the group.

Shara’s expression cracked with it, though guilt shadowed her face. My own knees weakened. Part relief, but also from the horror of what we must still do.

To take a life.

Elio’s voice broke the silence, raw with panic. “I don’t know about anyone else, but Transmutating a person is a lot different than a plant. You cannot ask us to kill you, or anyone.”

Every fiber of me agreed. My lips parted, but no sound came.

Yukari’s mouth curved, humor threaded with pity. “While I appreciate your honorable nature, dragon, I am not asking. I’m telling you. My hands have ended more lives than all the combined years you all have been alive. A thousand times over. Whole villages destroyed under my command. Minds broken while they begged for death. Some deserved it. Many did not.”

The chamber froze around her words. My throat closed. She had ended so many lives by her own admission. Yet, the thought of helping to end her struck sick and wrong. Could I allow the truth of what she admitted crushed every protest?

Her voice deepened, ancient and final. “That debt binds me more tightly than any chain. Tonight, it ends with me. Tonight, I begin my redemption before seeking it in the eight hells.”

Elio stumbled back, silence sealing his protest. The others wavered, some in grief, some in quiet resolve. I could barely breathe, yet the choice stood already carved. They would do this, with or without me. My friends needed me, so how could I not stand with them?

Later I would mourn the part of myself I would lose tonight.

Yukari’s gaze lifted to Isa, her eyes blazing like frozen fire. “When the Transmutation is done, Neir, Rielle, and Aster will need to bind what remains of me into Isa. Once complete, Isa will have access to my energy to use in the Binding of the entities to the lake.”

Isa inclined her head, her expression unreadable.

Yukari’s form wavered again, mist peeling from her shoulders before drawing back. “This is how you will save everyone, so don’t weep for my corrupted soul.”

Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them back. If she could choose this, I could not falter. I would not let my friends face it without me.

We closed the circle around Yukari as she knelt, mist already curling from her edges, her form steady though she must have known what waited for her.

Isa lifted her hands, her voice calm and commanding. “Find your element within her. Draw all of it free.”

Moon magic opened inside her the moment I reached for it. No struggle, no resistance. Her core overflowed with it, a purity unlike anything I had touched before. It poured through me like a silver tide, endless and whole. For one who spoke of slaughter, who had counted lives in thousands, the essence at her heart was still sacred. This was the magic of the Kōri-onna, born of the Goddesses’ bond, as if divinity itself had carved her from water and moonlight.

The brilliance nearly drowned me. Threads of Moon poured out, cold and radiant, more than my body could hold. Neir’s closeness steadied me. His hand hovered at my side, silent and sure, keeping me from faltering. My chest ached with the strain, yet I drew harder, wanting to prove I could do this.

Around me the others fought their own battles. Shara clenched her jaw, her guilt as visible as the vines wove from her hands. Ardorion strained, his fire dragging heat from where it barely lived in Yukari’s endless cold. Garnexis held herself like steel, unyielding, her gaze locked on Halven’s hand within the ice.

The circle thickened with power. Light spun from every side, threads of root, flame, ore, and water weaving with mine. Yukari’s body began to unweave, not violently, but as if thread unraveled from a tapestry. Strands of shadow, water, and moonlight dissolved into the spell. Her expression softened. Eyes closed, she lowered her head as though welcoming the end.

My soul cried for hers.

The plant in training had been still, mindless. This was not. Each strand whispered memory, fragments of centuries heavy with grief, with choices etched into eternity. My breath broke, yet I pulled harder, even as the purity of her magic pressed against the truth of all she had destroyed.

Her body collapsed inward, mist flickering once, then brilliance overtook her. Every last thread dissolved until only a seething, misty mass of raw, radiant power blazed at the circle’s center.

My arms trembled, every nerve alive with the current rushing through me. It could have torn me apart, but I clung to it. For Halven. For my friends. For Neir, who had asked me to stand with him tonight.

And I had.

The storm of Yukari’s energy churned in the chamber, raging like a sea torn from its shore. Strands of brilliance cracked across the air, threatening to shatter loose. If it broke free, everything we had given would scatter with it.

Isa stepped forward, her jaw locked, her body straining under the flood pressing against her. “Now. Bind it to me, to my center in my womb.”

Neir’s hand lifted beside mine, steady as always, Aster raising hers on his other side. Silver, blue, and lavender threads spiraled upward, twining into Isa. My magic quivered, thin and weak against theirs, yet Neir’s presence steadied me. We spoke our intention aloud, my voice trembling but true.

“We bind what remains of Yukari into Isa, so her power may guard Wintermere.”

Neir’s voice anchored ours, firm as stone, the strongest among the three of us. The spell sank into Isa’s body, pulling Yukari’s essence toward her womb. The energy struck with crushing force. Isa cried out, her body buckling, but she held. Light gathered low in her abdomen, pulsing like a second heartbeat, steady, alive. The storm quieted, its brilliance sealed inside her.

A longing stirred in me as Neir lowered his hand. When this was over, when Halven was safe, maybe we could find out what it would look like for me to stand beside him. Perhaps we’d learn what it meant to be soul halves.

Isa turned toward the ice prison where Halven waited. Veyn and Neir joined her, their shadows stretching across the frozen wall.

The rest of us spread along the barrier. I sidled close to Shara, my next Binding partner. She pressed her palm flat to the ice, steady as roots driven into earth. I laid my hand over hers, my breath uneven though my grip did not falter.

“Begin Ardorion and Aster.” Isa’s command broke across the silence.

Their Fusion rattled Wintermere. Fire and water collided deep within the frozen lake, cracks splitting outward in jagged lines. The same breaking that had doomed us before.

Then Isa blazed. Yukari’s energy tore through her body, the brilliance engulfing every shadow. Wind ripped in circles around us, deafening, until her voice rang out again. “Begin the Binding spell.”

Shara’s Wood surged first, threads of root and vine thrust into the frozen lake. My Moon magic spilled over hers, silver weaving through green, their union binding stronger together than either alone. Our shared intention whispered against the barrier.

The chamber roared back with their howls, voices clawing against us, tearing through the ice with fury. The wall rattled beneath our joined hands. My magic nearly buckled, weak against their rage, but Shara’s steadiness carried me. Her strength bound mine, and together our strands hurled into the greater spell Veyn anchored.

The entities thrashed, then faltered. Isa’s glow pierced the frozen lake, Yukari’s power blazing through her body like a beacon. The entities’ voices fractured, weakened, then stilled. Cracks in the ice closed, luminous frost sealing them away until silence filled the chamber.

Neir stepped forward, his hand pressed to the wall. The spell he wove sank out of sight, deep into the heart of Wintermere. But I recognized it, or the theory of it, now seeing the dreaming spell in practice. A spell so complex, my magic would never be able to recreate it. But silence thickened. The entities slept again.

Isa and Veyn cast their power into Halven’s prison. Light unraveled their previous Binding spell, water streaming down the stone floor. Halven collapsed free of it, his body crumpling against the ground, breath faint but alive.

Relief tore through me, breaking me open. We had done it. Against everything, we had saved him.

Veyn steadied Halven first, lifting him from the stone. Their clasp of hands and faint smile carried the kind of history no one else could touch. Lo threw herself into him next, clutching him with a desperate kiss. Elio stumbled forward, laughter breaking through his breath as he caught Halven’s shoulder.

Ardorion shoved through the tangle, his arm locking around Halven in a clap that echoed. “Missed you, bro. Don’t do that again unless you want me to replace you as captain of our bro squad.”

Halven’s lips curved, his whisper scraping the stillness. “Thanks.”

The chamber stilled as if time itself had caught its breath. His first word since he had vanished from our lives, returned to us now when I had almost stopped believing I would ever hear him again.

My chest broke open. Tears ran freely, too many to name their reasons. Relief that he stood here again. Guilt that lingered, whispering that if I had not broken things off, maybe he would never have come to the Academy earlier than all of us. I wanted to cross to him, to hug him, to tell him I was glad he lived. But Lo’s arms were locked around his waist, her claim pressed into him, and I was the girl from before. The ex. This moment did not belong to me.

Halven’s gaze lifted, steady and warm as he met us one by one. When his eyes touched mine, the ache deepened. I lowered my head, leaning back as Neir’s arms circled me. He had been waiting, patient as always, giving me the space to choose. I let him hold me, sinking into the steadiness he offered.

Movement at the edge caught me. Garnexis lingered apart from the others like me, shadows clinging to her stance. Something unsettled curled through her, the kind of tension that spoke of leaving. My breath hitched, but Elio’s voice broke through.

“You’d better start studying tonight if you want to pass finals.”

Halven’s hoarse laugh rolled through the chamber, joined by others until the sound tangled with tears. For a heartbeat, joy and sorrow lived side by side.

Isa’s voice carried above the rest. “The lake remembers what you’ve done for Nythral. And it always will. You should feel proud of what you’ve accomplished here, Docilis. I know I do.”

I lifted my head. I couldn’t feel the pride she granted us. I was happy to have Halven back, but the cost of taking a life would always be a stain on my soul.

Then my gaze slid back to where Garnexis had stood.

She was gone.

None of the shadows hid her, and my heart dropped. I couldn’t lose another friend, not now. As I pulled away from Neir, ready to tell everyone we were losing Garnexis, Ardorion’s voice echoed in the chamber.

“Hear that, bro? We’re legends now.”

Halven leaned heavy between us, Elio braced on one side and me on the other. Lo tried to shoulder more than she should, so I bumped her back and slid in, hooking Halven’s arm across me.

“By the Ancients, Halven,” I said, teeth gritted in a mock groan. “How do you weigh this much when you’ve barely eaten all semester? Are you hiding bricks in your robes? Or is this just the burden of all your drama made flesh?”

Elio snorted, his golden-orange skin catching the torchlight. “Drama does have mass. That explains everything.”

Halven made a sound that could have been a laugh or a groan. I grinned wider, glad to hear either.

“You’re both idiots,” Lo muttered, though the corners of her mouth pulled tight with relief.

I carried on, because silence never did suit me. “It used to be me, Elio, and Halven. A perfect bro triangle. Strong. Symmetrical. Unbreakable.”

My grin widened as I shifted my grip higher on Halven’s shoulder. “But then Halven vanished, and it turned into a bro line. Just me and Elio. Two points. Weak structure.”

Elio raised an eyebrow, his arms working to keep Halven steady. “And now that he’s back?”

“Back to a triangle, my friend.” I let my grin grow wicked. “But imagine this. If Garnexis accepts Orivian into her life, then we become a bro square squad. Can you even picture the power?”

Halven’s head lolled against my shoulder. His breath hitched like he might actually laugh again, and it warmed something deep in my chest.

Elio’s mouth twisted. “Orivian might refuse membership. Might be afraid you’ll melt him.”

I barked a laugh. “He knows I wouldn’t really do that. I was just looking out for our girl. Someone has to.”

We made it up the final stretch of stairs and through the arch into Aster’s quad. The common room glowed with low lamplight, shadows dancing over stone and tapestries. Elio and I lowered Halven carefully onto the long couch. He slumped back with a sigh that seemed to rattle through his whole frame.

Lo brushed hair from his brow and moved toward the shelves, muttering about food.

Aster sat, unusually still, eyes on me. Her lips pressed together before she finally spoke. “Is there ever a time you stop talking?”

The corners of my mouth curled. I leaned on the back of the couch with deliberate ease and let a slow grin rise. “Yeah. When my hands are full of a Water Fae.”

Her eyes flicked away as if she could roll the words right off her shoulders, but the pink flush at the edge of her blue cheeks betrayed her.

Lo breezed past with a platter of bread and cheese, smacking my arm on the way by.

“Hopeless,” she muttered with a shake of her head, though a smile tugged her mouth.

I kept my grin locked on Aster, enjoying the flicker of warmth behind her mask.

Halven leaned back against the cushions, already half asleep as Lo pressed bread into his hand. Elio sank into the chair opposite, shoulders loose, relief plain in the way he slouched. The room brimmed with voices, clatter, the quiet shuffle of bodies trying to settle after too much chaos.

And in the middle of it, Aster sat with her chin in her hand. She scrutinized me like she was made of stone, though her eyes drifted toward me once, quick and wary, before sliding away again.

The urge to get her alone tugged at me harder than I cared to admit. We’d finally found and saved our friend Halven. He was safe and back with us.

Now we were back to mundane things like final exams and figuring out what to eat next.

But one thing came above all of that now.

Whatever this thing was between me and Aster, I wanted it to work. But this room held too many witnesses, too much noise. I wanted her where the walls did not listen, where she would not slip behind that armor she wore for everyone else.

I walked to her and leaned down, voice pitched low. “My quad’s empty tonight. Want to get out of here?”

Her brows drew together, not quite frown, not quite refusal. She glanced at Lo, at Halven, then back at me. She didn’t speak, but the way her shoulders eased by the smallest fraction gave me enough.

I knew her thoughts. Halven was back, now to deal with me, the Fire Fae, who, I hoped, was never far from in her thoughts.

I straightened, casual, and tipped my head toward the door. After a long breath, she followed.

The hallways were hushed at this hour, lamps dimmed to embers. I opened the door to my quad and let her step in first. The room yawned quiet and empty, the stillness wrapping around us like a seal.

I shut the door behind me and turned. She lingered by the hearth, eyes wary, her hair still as a pond, as if she expected me to press her into something she was not ready to give.

I crossed the room slowly, leaving no room for doubt in my steps. When I reached her, I drew her into my arms, pulling her close until her forehead rested against my chest. My hand slid over her back, steady, certain.

“Orivian’s vow back there,” I murmured against her hair, “it hit me harder than I thought it would. Not because I envy him, but because his words echoed the ones in my mind. I don’t ever want to be apart from you.”

Her breath caught, quiet against me.

“I keep thinking about the vision of you I had in the Docilis Vault,” I continued, holding her tighter. “You wore armor against everyone. Against me. I can’t lose you behind those walls again. I won’t.”

Her fingers curled slightly in the fabric of my shirt, betraying the tension she tried to hide.

I tilted her back just enough to meet her eyes. “I told you once I’d wait for you as long as you needed. I meant it. But don’t think for a second that silence means I’ve stopped trying. I’m here. I’ll always be here. I’ll keep showing you until you believe me. I love you, Aster.”

Her lips parted as if she had a reply, but nothing came out. The firelight caught in her eyes, uncertain and strong all at once. Her silence stretched between us, her body pressed to mine yet braced as though my arms were a test she had not decided to pass. My chest burned with the need to keep speaking, but I forced myself still, letting her think, letting her walls shift on their own.

Strands of her light blue hair moved a little now, flowing into trickles of water, then solidifying again. I brushed some of it back from her face, my thumb grazing her temple. She didn’t pull away. She leaned, just enough that her breath mingled with mine. The armor she carried cracked, subtle but real.

Her fingers curled tighter into my shirt.

“You haven’t let me forget you,” she whispered. Her gaze swept down, hiding her violet eyes and all they could tell me. “Not once. And I don’t want to push you away anymore.”

Her words sank through me like fire in dry tinder, but still, I waited, letting her feel this moment, letting her have control of what this could be between us.

Her lips trembled as though she still fought herself, then steadied, bringing her gaze back to mine. “You measure the world by connection. By belonging. You make people feel like they are part of something bigger. I want that. I want to be part of your world.”

My throat closed with the weight of it.

Her mouth brushed mine, tentative, testing. I caught the edge of her hesitation and held still long enough for her to choose again. She pressed harder, her hand sliding up to the back of my neck. The kiss deepened, carrying every strain of the semester, every agonizing day we searched for a way to save Halven, every moment the two of us had been pulled apart, every unsaid word that had hung between us.

I pulled her closer, anchoring her against me as if I could fuse the choice into permanence. Her walls broke, a slow yielding, each line of her body surrendering into mine.

The kiss grew hotter, unrelenting, no longer a question but an answer written in fire and water.

The bag hit the floor, and the sound rang louder in my chest than it should have.

Halven was alive. The last promise I had made to myself before I ran from everything had been to see him safe again, and somehow that vow had held.

Relief should have been simple, but it came tangled with grief. He was back, yes, but nothing could give us back what we had lost before Nythral. He and I shared the same fractures, the same scars carved by tragedies no one else in this tower could understand. My quadmates were dear to me, but none of them knew what it meant to claw your way into survival, to stagger into this valley and find sanctuary only after the world had already taken too much. Halven did. And now he was safe, steadier than I had ever dared to hope.

So why did I still feel the urge to run?

Because of the man kneeling in front of me.

The foyer stood hollow around me, emptied of the others. Their footsteps and voices had faded into stairwells and night air, leaving only stone and silence between Orivian and me. The air seemed to hold its breath, lamplight flickering across the arches, stretching shadows long against the floor.

Orivian knelt in the center of it all, metal-winged and unmovable, his eyes burning as though I were the only thing left in the world. That vow he had spoken moments ago still echoed against the stone, reverberating through the hollows of me where I had fought so hard to keep him out.

My bag lay between us like a discarded truth, the last tether to the road I had planned for myself.

His impossible eyes waited for me to say what came next.

Could I trust his words?

I had a fated bond with him, something that rarely happened. Wouldn’t that mean we couldn’t lie to each other? He had never lied to me before.

The thought trembled through me, frightening and thrilling all at once. If he meant it—if his vow was real—then maybe I did not have to keep running. What if I could stop carrying a bag ready for flight and instead let myself believe in a future here?

My mother was here. My quadmates, my friends. Halven, safe again. Maybe I did not have to trade all of that away. Maybe happiness was not somewhere down the road, always out of reach, but here, in the man kneeling before me.

Orivian’s eyes burned with a fire that was not only promise but desire, the kind that left no room for doubt about how badly he wanted me. The lamplight caught on the metallic sheen of his wings before they folded tight, as though even the magic in him bent toward my answer. His presence pressed close despite the distance, a gravity I could not escape, and in that pull a dangerous thought sparked: perhaps I did not want to escape.

Hope flickered to life, small and stubborn, and heat rose with it, winding through me like a flame too long starved of air.

“You need to get off your knees,” I told him, my mouth curling despite the storm in me. “And start proving that vow.”

Metal feathers shimmered briefly, and his wings disappeared into himself as if the magic itself obeyed my command. He rose in a single fluid motion, taller than me, overwhelming me, and before I could take another breath his arms closed around me.

“I know I’ve told you I would never let you go,” his voice rumbled against my mouth as he pulled me in, “but tonight I want you to feel the same. To know you will never want to let me go.”

Then his lips crashed into mine, and the ache of the last months broke apart in the hunger of that kiss. I clutched at the front of his armor plates, desperate, greedy, letting the dam inside me split wide open. His mouth claimed mine, heat and salt and hunger all at once, and I gave it back with teeth and tongue until breathing itself felt optional.

Moonlight spilled across the courtyard stones, and at its edge stood the dire wolf. His fur shimmered white tipped with silver and streaked in faint blue, a beast of winter and shadow both. Golden eyes fixed on me from beneath the fringe of night.

Halven was alive. Safe. The fear that had haunted me for months, that I had lost him forever, finally loosened its grip. The relief came sharp, so fierce it almost hurt. Once, my heart had belonged to him, my first love, and I had given him up because my Moon Fae blood demanded it. That choice had never stopped aching. When the entities had claimed him, I had cursed myself a hundred times, convinced it was my fault for letting him go.

But tonight, he walked again, steadied by the friends I had fought beside to bring him home. He had Lo now. She held his hand, his heart, his future. And I was glad for him. Truly glad. Whatever we had shared belonged to the past.

Because my future stood before me.

Neir.

New but old, familiar as breath, yet only now fully mine. The other half of my soul. My soul half. I had lived for years believing I was whole, yet his presence proved I had been incomplete all along. With him, the world seemed sharper, steadier, as if everything inside me had finally clicked into its rightful place. Where Halven had been a love I could never keep, Neir was a love I was allowed. Moon Fae blood bound us both. Permission and destiny wove together.

Love was no longer forbidden. It was possible.

As I left the foyer and crossed the space to him, the wolf bowed his head. The solemnity of it twisted something in my chest, a vow of devotion bound into one quiet motion. Then he turned, powerful limbs carrying him toward the faculty wing, and without hesitation, I followed.

Confusion tugged at me, thinking he would take me back to the bridge, but the wolf’s stride never faltered. He climbed the inner stair that curled into one of the towers. The air pressed colder as we rose, night thick through arrow-slit windows.

Each step carried the same question: when would he change back? His body had burned with so much magic earlier. Maybe he lacked the strength to shift again. Maybe this was who he would remain for a while. The thought sank deep, heavy with doubt, yet still I followed the sway of his tail, the sure set of his paws.

At the landing he stopped before a heavy oak door. He nudged the steel handle with his nose and looked back at me. His gaze urged without words.

My hand wrapped around the chilled metal, and the door groaned open. We stepped together into a chamber shrouded in white sheets and stillness. I closed the door when Neir began to shift.

Light bent around him as his body reformed, bones reshaping with the slow inevitability of tide. Fur melted away, silver-gold light tracing his limbs until a man stood in the wolf’s place. Neir’s hair fell loose over his shoulders, dark and glinting, his skin luminous against the dimness. Naked, unashamed, as if the magic of the change itself had left no room for modesty.

Silence pooled in the chamber, broken only by his steady breathing, and my own heart hammering hard in the hollow space.

“Welcome to my chambers,” he said.

I barely dragged my eyes from his nakedness to take in the room, revealed in moonlight from the balcony. Sheets draped across the furniture, ghosting over chairs and shelves, a thin veil over a life never lived. Dust dulled the edges of what might once have been fine things. A bedframe pressed against the far wall but no mattress lay upon it, only a bare wooden slat hidden beneath linen. The chamber carried silence as if it had waited for someone to claim it and no one ever had.

My gaze traced the emptiness, the absence more telling than any presence. The chamber carried him, the same way the snow carried silence.

“You have quarters here.” My voice rose small in the hollow room. “Have you ever used them?”

He leaned back against the oak door, hair unbound from his shift into human form, chest bare, arms crossed as if the room meant nothing to him. “These were mine when I first came here. I do not sleep in them, and I’ve never lived here.”

A blaring truth pressed at my ribs until words pushed out of me. “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”

He did not look away, no lie in his stance. “I am a guardian of magic. My place is nowhere.”

The hollowness of the chamber crept into me, empty shelves echoing inside my chest. The burn behind my eyes stung, traitorous.

He crossed the room, each step closing the silence until his hand framed my jaw. Warmth spread through the touch, firm, steady, grounding. “Come with me, Little Moon.”

Breath caught against the thought. Leave with him. Wander without walls or classrooms, without rules. I had never allowed the idea inside before. What life could I carve with the sliver of magic that belonged to me? Could I survive out there? Outside of Nythral?

Yet standing in that barren chamber, the thought of staying without him hollowed me deeper than the empty shelves around us. My lips parted, but he shook his head, thumb brushing my cheek before he kissed me. When he pulled back, we were both short on breath.

A plea shone in his golden eyes which turned into something like resolution. “Stay here. Finish your schooling. Learn what you can about your magic. I will return for you. When you graduate, I will take you with me. We will travel the world. You will see more magic than you ever imagined possible.”

The words lifted me and pressed me down all at once. Time apart stretched long and bleak, yet beyond that lay a horizon I had never considered. A life outside Nythral, a life on the road at his side, a life where adventure met me at every turn. With him, survival might not be survival at all but wonder.

“I never thought about life beyond this valley,” I whispered against his hand. “I am not even sure I could live it. My magic is small. My reach is nothing compared to others. But with you… it feels like an adventure. And I want that adventure.”

His gaze fixed on mine, silver shadows threading his golden irises.

“Then let the adventure begin tonight.” His hand slipped from my jaw, fingers lacing with mine. An earnest expression set on his face. “I love you, Rielle. I’ve never loved another like this, and I never will again. Let me claim you and make you mine.”

My heart raced with his words. At the beginning of this semester, I carried a broken heart, never believing I’d find love again so quickly. “I love you, too, Neir. But I don’t know what you mean by claiming me.”

“If I claim you, no other will touch you, and I will touch no other. It is something werewolves do. When we find our mate, there is no other for us for the rest our days.”

I liked that idea, because as crazy as it sounded, I only wanted Neir. So I nodded.

“Little Moon,” he said, something like awe in his voice. His thumb swept across my cheek. “I will ensure my claiming will hurt very little.”

My brows rose, a flicker of doubt, but his golden eyes held only devotion. Whatever fear lingered in me ebbed beneath that look.

He chuckled at my concern. “Come, let me show you what else our Moon magic can do.”

He drew me across the chamber and out onto the balcony. Wintermere opened before us, moonlight spreading silver over the frozen lake. I leaned against the balustrade, the cold stone grounding me while the glitter of ice carried me away.

Pressure brushed my shoulders. I tipped back into it only to meet empty air. My breath caught, confusion stirring until unseen hands guided me, turning me until my back pressed to the railing. Neir stood several steps away, unmoving, his chest rising steady, his eyes fixed on me with a golden fire that made my skin prickle. His hands remained at his sides.

“What’s happening,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“You know so little of what your magic can do.” His words carried steady, his gaze never wavering.

“I do not have much to do anything with it.”

His head tilted, shadows making his hair darker. “You need none of it tonight. Not for what I want to do to you.”

Isa stood at the front, faculty stiff on either side, Nivara Hall and the Academy looming behind her like stone carved to impress. Her black hair caught the light sharp as ink against paper, and her eyes—black with green lines and cutting—looked like they were ready to slice through anyone who dared step out of line. Of course she made command look easy. That was Isa. All frost and command, wrapped up in robes meant to remind the rest of us who held the reins.

I stood with Aster, Garnexis, Rielle, Shara, Halven, Lo, Orivian, and Elio at the mouth of the Dragon’s Walkway. One boot braced against the gargoyle’s plinth, I hitched my pack strap and pressed closer to our group.

The Grand Magister lifted her hand and her voice carried clean over the steps. “Docilis of the Academy of Magic & Harmony, you studied hard and prevailed. Your exams stand as proof. I am proud of what you have accomplished, supporting the mission of this academy to find harmony in our combined magics.”

The gargoyle angled its head toward us. I tapped the stone claw for luck and grinned over at Aster.

A black cat caught the edge of my vision and my head whipped around to watch her pad in and sit by Isa’s boots.

Excited, I bumped Aster with an elbow and grinned. “Look, it’s Queenie! The one I told you about.”

Even Garnexis, Rielle, and Shara smiled at seeing the cat. A few heads turned at the echo of my voice. Aster gave a sidelong smile, and I took it like a prize.

Isa continued. “Rest now. You will return after your winter break and the start of the new year. Enjoy your family, cherish your friends, and have a happy celebration for Chaos’s Festival. We will see you next year.”

I shifted the pack higher and set my stance by the gargoyle, ready for the rush when the bridge opened.

The arch bell pealed then. Wards fell all along the wide stone span of the bridge, the Dragon’s Walkway. Cheers rose, and the whole sea of students pressed toward the bridge.

We turned to join the flood of students, but the stone gargoyle shifted in closer, elbows grinding against the granite ledge. Snow clung to its horns, and its mouth pulled into a grin that looked way too much like it knew a joke it wasn’t sharing.

A claw tapped the plinth. “Walk well. Bring back good stories. I hope to talk with you again.”

I saluted with two fingers and stepped out first. Our eight folded in around and behind me under the sentinel’s gaze.

Winter breath plumed and thinned, and I shivered deep in my robes. Gods, I couldn’t wait to get back to my Summer Quadrant, Suravar. No more snow and ice!

Boots beat a steady rhythm on the stone bridge. Lantern light ran ahead along stone rails. Wintermere lay white and unbroken to either side.

Aster brushed a cupped hand along the rail, scooping up snow.

“Home, then back here in a few weeks.” Her gaze skimmed our friends. “Same doors, same rooms next term.”

I laced our fingers and squeezed. “Same room.”

I eyed the snow in her hand, just daring her to make me colder. Before she could rise to the challenge, I flicked a bit of heat along my other palm. A thin curl of steam spun free, chased the air, and drew a laughing shape before it vanished. Aster chuckled and dropped the snow.

Shara’s words to Rielle still lingered nearby. “Make the most of your weeks with him.”

Neir’s duty would pull him away from Rielle soon, before we returned for the next semester, and after graduation Rielle would follow wherever he traveled outside of Nythral. The thought burned in me, the idea of her leaving, of our circle breaking apart. She accepted it with grace, but I couldn’t. Not yet.

But we had a couple of years before that happened.

Elio bumped my shoulder with a grin. I fished out a parchment from my robes and flashed it at him. My passing marks for the semester.

He tapped his own pocket and waggled brows. “We all made it through the gauntlet.”

Rielle lifted her page, Garnexis lifted hers, Shara just nodded, and the last knot in my chest unwound. Our four stayed in the same quad. Same rooms.

Probably same neighbors.

For a moment Aster and I had discussed rooming together. It’d make sneaking into each other’s beds easier than what we faced the last few days, but in the end, we decided this was better, to keep everything the same... especially if she got mad at me, then I could escape her cold wrath more easily.

I chuckled inwardly at that. I’d probably punish myself by staying close to her icy tongue anyway.

Almost as if we were all on the same thought wavelength with our room choices, we looked to Halven.

He tucked a folded schedule into his robes. “I’ll be spending a few hours after classes next semester to catch up, but Lady Isa is giving me the chance to continue so I can graduate on time with the rest of you.”

Lo threaded fingers with his and set their pace to a shared line of warmth. “I’ll help you.”

Halven kissed her temple with a smile, murmuring something just for her ears. I peaked a glance at Rielle, knowing how she felt about Halven all through our first year here.

She gave Lo a soft smile, then shifted closer to me so her sleeve brushed Aster’s. No shadows lingered in her eyes, only quiet warmth.

Lo nodded while looping her arm with Halven’s.

Elio grinned at the obvious display of affection between those two. “Next semester’s classes are going to crush us. I hope our love lives can survive the workload.”

“Did you get a final verdict, Shara?” Rielle raised her brow with the question.

Shara had been wondering if the Grand Magister would allow her to continue her relationship with Veyn. We all heard Veyn had threatened to leave the Academy.

Shara brushed her satchel and drew out a sealed notice with Isa’s sigil. She kept her voice even while we walked. “Isa is allowing our relationship, given our history before the Academy. I’m just not allowed to enroll in any of his courses again.”

Rielle’s brows knit. “I know you looked forward to taking Advanced Theory of Elemental Fusion with Veyn next semester.”

I laughed. “It’s not like she can’t get private lessons.”

Shara tried to hide her embarrassed smile, but there was no hiding the redness filling her cheeks. She looked over her shoulder where Veyn would be standing with the faculty still.

Elio drew ahead of us when a wave of first year robes passed by us, girlish laughter spilling from them.

“What’s got you so interested in the first years?” I said. “I mean, I’m sure a few of them could turn some heads, but you seem intent, my friend.”

When Aster squeezed my hand, I immediately gave her my best grin. “None could ever compare to you.”

“Keep up the sweet talk, flameboy.” Her words were tempered by the heat in her eyes and the slight curl of one side of her mouth.

Elio fell back to walk beside me, and a wide smile split his face. “I’m looking for someone. I saw her in the library a few days ago, a first-year student, and she had the most beautiful smile. I plan to find her again. Figure out her name.”

Part of me relaxed, a part I hadn’t even known was tense. Ever since I figured out that Elio had a crush on Garnexis, I wondered how this would affect our friendship. Garnexis was my girl, someone I cared about deeply, but her affections were bound by her fated bond with Orivian. I didn’t like the idea of what Elio’s feelings could do to our group.

Speaking of Garnexis...

Sidling up to the other side of Elio, Garnexis bumped his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll charm her with dragon facts. But please warn her ahead of time before you start.”

Elio flashed teeth. “I’m pretty sure she’s a dragon, too. An Iron Dragon.”

“Go into dragon mode!” I could barely contain my excitement. I hadn’t ever seen Elio in his full dragon form. “Maybe she’ll join you in the sky.”

He shook his head with a rueful grin. “No can do. There’s not enough room here on the bridge to shift, and I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Wide-eyed, I looked from one side of the bridge to the other. There was a good thirty to forty feet across. Were Stone Dragons that big?

As if Shara could hear my thoughts, she said, “Stone Dragons are the biggest among the dragon species.”

Whelp, guess I won’t see his dragon form any time soon.

Orivian gave Elio a sidelong glance, voice easy. “Then may this new dragon of yours enjoy hearing every last detail of it.”

Garnexis’s lips curved, and she angled her body to fit against Orivian’s as he put an arm around her waist. “Stories of dragons can fly all they want. I’ll stay with the man who keeps his vows.”

The sharp words even had me raising my brow. In one breath she reassured and threatened Orivian. She wasn’t interested in Elio, but she’d only keep Orivian as long as he kept his word.

Good luck to Orivian! Hopefully he lasted long enough to be in the bro squad.

Elio fell back to talk to Shara and Rielle.

Both women seemed at ease, but I wouldn’t want to be either of them at this moment. The two of them were walking away from their loves, but it was short term. However, I very much enjoyed taking the bridge back home with Aster next to me.

Certainly, Garnexis felt the same.

Which reminds me...

“Orivian, we need you in our bro squad.” I nearly laughed at the startle in his eyes. “Membership is open, and we could make it the bro square squad.”

Indecision weighed on his face.

I spun a tiny flame between knuckles and pinched it out. “Unless you think I was really serious about melting your metal?”

It was a challenge I knew he’d rise to.

“Perhaps we should test that first?” he asked, with a smile in his eyes.

But then my mind turned to a competition. No one liked games more than me. “We could set up it all up where we go head-to-head, like different levels. Maybe even bring in help to boost our stats.”

I lifted Aster’s hand to my mouth to kiss her knuckles, getting lost for a moment in her violet eyes.

Orivian cleared his throat. “Uh, that sounds like fun, but maybe I can think about it over the break?”

I couldn’t tear my attention away from Aster. That darkness growing in her eyes pulled me in and all I could think about was getting her alone.

“Ardorion,” she whispered with her voice all husky.

I blinked a few times to snap out of it. I lowered our arms hastily and wiped down the front of my tunic with my free hand. “Right. We can discuss it when we return, but you’re in the bro squad regardless, metal head. You can’t be dating Garnexis and not be part of all of us.”

My attention turned to the bridge’s midway point not far ahead.

A plinth on either side of the bridge held two more gargoyles. These ones didn’t move although their eyes glowed when the students rubbed their clawed hands in passing. With each touch, the students whispered their promise or hope for next semester. First-year students watched intently, learning the rituals of the Academy, one that was our own, made by the students.

One student ran by us to catch up with some at the midway point. The final newssheet waved in his hands as his wide eyes ran over us to land on Halven.

I couldn’t deny Orivian’s skill in writing the main article that explained Halven’s disappearance and reappearance, along with why it had looked like Wintermere had been thawing out for several days. Truth lay somewhere between silence and hazy wording.

Lo closed in on Halven, an arm wrapped around his. Elio sidled closer to them, opening the space on my other side, which was quickly filled with Rielle and Shara.

Rielle spoke softly, drawing us further together, Garnexis on the opposite side from me. “Do you think we’ll ever know what the entities are?”

I shook my head, looking at Halven. His face was pensive enough that I knew he heard the question.

But his silence burned hotter than if he’d shouted a denial. He’d faced those things. The way he held himself, the way his eyes cut away. It reeked of truth he wasn’t sharing. He had to know more than what Isa spoon-fed us, and I hated being left in the dark.

I also knew what my friend had been through in his life. I wouldn’t be the one to force secrets from him.

“Whatever they are, Lady Isa has warned us against looking into it further,” Shara said, always the rule-following, pragmatic one.

Garnexis got that look on her face, which extended to her whole body, whether she realized it or not. It said that rules could go to all eight hells. But Halven spoke up before she said anything.

“Let them sleep.”

We all slowed down to listen to him. I’d wondered what he knew about them considering he’d been linked to them.

“They are responsible for our peace here,” he said. “That should be enough. Knowing anything more will only cause anxiety for our future because we can’t stop what will happen one day.”

The air felt colder for a second, like something old had stirred just under the surface of Halven’s words. We’d made it through. But something still waited. Just not today.

War. That was what he was talking about. Isa had said it too, but Halven knew war firsthand. A survivor of such terrible things. Perhaps he was right. I wished he didn’t have to carry the burden of such knowledge alone, but if anyone could, it would be Halven.

I wanted to believe every answer was worth chasing. That truth made us stronger. But the way Halven said it, quiet and certain, it made me wonder. Maybe not every truth helps. Maybe some things are meant to stay quiet, not out of fear, but because cracking them open might shatter more than it reveals.

Silence beyond the Seal.

The bridge’s midpoint was before us now. The nine of us gathered around one of the plinths.

Elio was the first to touch the gargoyle’s clawed hand where it curled over the edge of the plinth. He could either speak a promise or a hope for next semester. He went with hope.

“May I find kindness first and meet my unknown angel.”

The gargoyle’s gray eyes glowed a whitish color before dimming again. He’d accepted the hope. Although, I’ve never heard of a gargoyle not accepting a hope or promise.

“I hope you find her, Elio,” Garnexis said as she brushed the claws next. Then she spoke her promise. “I will forge both skill and home in the same fire, so that I’ll never feel the need to run again.”

When she backed away from the glowing eyes, Orivian leaned close to her, his fingers capturing some of her red hair as he whispered something, but then Lo stepped up next.

“Help me build quiet strength for others and for myself.”

The eyes glowed.

She went back to Halven’s side, and he smiled at her. “You already have those things, Lo. It’s what drew me to you.”

“Can’t hurt to keep practicing.”

“True.”

Then Shara stepped forward, grazing the stone. “I will continue to protect what matters, the hearts of my friends, my love and family, and myself.”

“I love that, Shara,” Orivian said as he replaced her at the plinth as the gargoyle’s eyes dimming. His head bowed and his hand rested on the clawed hand for several quiet seconds. “No matter what happens during our break, even if it means I must forsake my family, I will return as my own man, making my own choices, and always choosing what and who is best for me.”

His statement ended with a heated gaze at Garnexis, and for the first time I could remember, she blushed. Garnexis didn’t blush, did she?

I slapped Orivian on the shoulder as I passed him to take my turn.

“Well played, Orivian. Nice way to ruin all of our attempts at courtship when you keep spouting sentiments we could never achieve.” He laughed, and I knew that he’d be in the bro squad for sure come next semester. But then I turned my attention to the gargoyle. “I know you can’t help just sitting here looking mean at us, but you sure are intimidating.”

“Make your promise already,” Garnexis said.

I know she was trying to throw attention off herself and onto me. I knew her too well. So I gave her a big grin.

“You got it all wrong. No promises here.” Then I swallowed as I looked up at the gargoyle and touched his hand. “Help me lead with steadier balance. Greatness is achieved in well-executed fusion.”

I didn’t dare look at Aster, because she’d look deep into me and know exactly what I hoped for, making me feel just a bit vulnerable. But she squeezed my hand as she replaced me at the stone plinth.

“Help me grow mastery and joy together with others and not alone.”

Oh, my beautiful Astenara! Both of our hopes centered around looking outside of ourselves to achieve something better. No doubt in my mind. We were made for each other.

She used to freeze me out. Now she steadied me. Fire and frost might not be meant to cancel each other out. Maybe they were meant to temper each other.

When she backed away from the glowing eyes, I couldn’t help but to wrap my arms around her from behind, nuzzling her neck. I almost missed hearing Rielle’s statement.

“I promise to anchor love and duty in the same breath but I will always guard love and call on courage when duty parts paths.”

The vow rang too close to everything we had carried this term, and my throat tightened. Aster’s fingers in mine steadied me. Rielle’s courage always felt brighter than all of us, and I was glad to be able to bask in it.

Rielle didn’t budge as she gazed up at the glowing eyes with a smile. Halven joined her, the last of us to speak his promise or hope. We were all riveted on the two of them. Rielle had moved on from her relationship with Halven, but I know she’d always harbor love for him. That was Rielle, kind and loving, nearly an angel herself in how she treated others. Everyone meant something to her.

But since Halven returned to us, neither one of them had really spoken to each other or even come near the other. It was a tricky spot. Halven had Lo to think about, but right now, he seemed to make a decision about all of that.

“Rielle,” he said, gaining her attention as she turned to him. Then he hugged her. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

Her head nodded against his chest. “Never.”

Then she stepped back, giving Halven the space to approach the plinth. The last one.

“We stand because our friends held us up. We endure because loyalty bound us together. May next year bring us the same strength, and the courage to keep using it.”

It was perfect.

The future lay ahead, with so many possibilities.

But right now? I just wanted to go home. To wrap my arms around my family. To introduce them to Aster.

We left the plinth, letting the next students step forward, and the far shore of the bridge drew closer with every step. Pines lined the horizon in green hush.

I used to think power meant winning. That fire meant louder, faster, harder. Burn everything down and call it strength.

But maybe real power is knowing what to keep close. What to warm, not scorch.

That’s what this term taught me.

We nearly lost one of our own. Faced things under the ice no one should ever face. And we came out standing. Together.

We weren’t just Docilis anymore. We were something more. We were the kind of friends you survive fire with. The kind who pull you back from it.

Lanterns glowed at the end of the Dragon’s Walkway, our families waiting for us. The bridge carried us forward in a single sweep of stone, toward warmth, toward whatever came next.

Behind us, the academy stood steady. Beneath us, the frozen lake held its silence.

And ahead?

The next term was already reaching through the cold, promising more adventures. And we’d be ready to meet them.

THE END

Isa stood at the front, faculty gathered on both sides, and Nivara Hall and the Academy rose behind her like old winter stone holding centuries of memory. Her dark hair framed a face steady and striking, and the green in her eyes were bright as spring’s first growth, unyielding but alive. She looked like someone who carried more than she admitted, as if the weight of the seasons themselves leaned on her shoulders.

Veyn held a place a step down from her, robes straight, hands clasped behind his back, steadiness like a line I could stand on. Already I missed being close to him, but I didn’t have long to wait. I’d see him tonight back home in our Spring Quadrant, Ethergard.

I stood with Ardorion, Aster, Garnexis, Rielle, Halven, Lo, Orivian, and Elio at the mouth of the Dragon’s Walkway. The gargoyle crouched on its plinth at my shoulder, frost threading its horns.

The Grand Magister lifted her hand, and her voice spread over the steps clear as birdsong, steady enough to quiet the restless air around us. “Docilis of the Academy of Magic & Harmony, you studied hard and prevailed. Your exams stand as proof. I am proud of what you have accomplished, supporting the mission of this academy to find harmony in our combined magics.”

The gargoyle angled its head toward us. I glanced back at Veyn. His gaze met mine across the way, and he tipped his chin the smallest degree, a quiet confirmation that not only steadied everything inside me, but also made my blood hot when I thought about what the night would bring.

A black cat with golden eyes padded in during the speech and sat by Isa’s boots. I met Rielle’s eyes and shared a quick smile. We’d wondered what happened to her after she led us to the Firebird weeks ago.

Next to me Ardorion gasped as he elbowed Aster. “Look, it’s Queenie! The one I told you about.”

His voice carried across the entire student body. Isa frowned, though I don’t think he saw it. Veyn did his best to hide a smile.

A few heads turned our way, but Ardorion only had eyes for Aster.

Isa continued. “Rest now. You will return after your winter break and the start of the new year. Enjoy your family, cherish your friends, and have a happy celebration for Chaos’s Festival. We will see you next year.”

I tightened my cloak ties and set my stance beside the gargoyle, ready for the release.

The arch bell tolled and wards dropped along the Dragon’s Walkway as cheers rose and the student body surged onto the span. I left Veyn with the faculty for now and stepped out with my friends, a last crossing before my night with him.

Our group turned to join the rush of students, their footsteps filling the courtyard, but the gargoyle bent forward on its elbows. Snow lined the curve of its horns, and its mouth softened into something gentle, curving in fondness.

A claw tapped the plinth. “Walk well. Bring back good stories. I hope to talk with you again.”

Ardorion saluted with two fingers and strode out first. The rest of us folded in around him under the sentinel’s gaze.

Cold air carried across the bridge and turned to mist with each breath. Boots fell into rhythm on the stone span while lanterns lit the rails, casting long lines of gold. Wintermere spread wide on either side, still and white in its frozen prison.

Aster brushed her hand along the rail and gathered a small mound of snow. She looked at the rest of us, her voice quiet but steady. “Home, then back here in a few weeks. Same doors, same rooms next term.”

Ardorion laced their fingers together and answered, “Same room.” A thread of steam coiled from his other hand, spiraling into the air into a laughing shape before it vanished. Aster’s chuckle softened her usual reserve, and for a moment warmth lived between them.

I reached for Rielle’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze. While all of us look forward to the next few months and next semester with our loved ones, Neir would be leaving before next term. He had duties outside of Nythral.

“Make the most of your weeks with him,” I said to her.

Her smile in answer carried gratitude, though beneath it lived the truth we had all been forced to face: when she graduated, she would leave with Neir. The thought hollowed something in me every time it surfaced. I had been the one to protest it most, unwilling to imagine our family without her, until she reminded me we still had years yet before we graduated. Years had never felt so fragile.

Elio bumped Ardorion’s shoulder with a grin. Ardorion pulled a parchment from his robes and flashed his marks for the semester.

Elio tapped his pocket, just as smug. “We all made it through the gauntlet.”

Rielle and Garnexis flashed their reports. I only nodded, relief moving through me when the last of Ardorion’s worry eased from his face. Our quad would stay together. Same rooms, same company as Aster said, although I was surprised those two didn’t want to room together. But continuity mattered in a world where so much shifted.

As if one thought guided all of us, we glanced toward Halven.

He tucked a folded schedule into his robes. “I’ll be spending a few hours after classes next semester to catch up, but Lady Isa is giving me the chance to continue so I can graduate on time with the rest of you.”

Lo slipped her hand into his, matching his pace. “I’ll help you.”

Halven kissed her temple with a smile, murmuring something private. Across from them, Rielle’s lips curved faintly. Not bitterness over their affections for each other, but something gentler, a quiet acceptance. She stepped faster to catch Ardorion until her sleeve brushed Aster’s, her eyes free of shadows.

Elio grinned at Halven and Lo’s affection. “Next semester’s classes are going to crush us. I hope our love lives can survive the workload.”

Rielle raised a brow at me. “Did you get a final verdict, Shara?”

I withdrew the sealed notice from the satchel at my side. Isa’s sigil gleamed against the wax. My heart had raced many times over the last few days until I’d received this. The Grand Magister had not been happy to learn of Veyn’s relationship with me. It was against the Academy’s policies for a faculty member to date a student. But had Veyn threatened to leave the Academy if she wouldn’t allow concessions for us.

My love for Veyn grew ten-fold. We would move forward, making choices together so that we could share our life.

My voice stayed steady as we walked. “Isa is allowing our relationship, given our history before the Academy. I’m just not allowed to enroll in any of his courses again.”

Rielle’s brows pinched. “I know you looked forward to taking Advanced Theory of Elemental Fusion with Veyn next semester.”

Ardorion laughed. “It’s not like she can’t get private lessons.”

Heat climbed into my cheeks. I tried to mask the smile tugging at me, but I’m sure color climbing my neck gave me away. I glanced back toward the faculty, where Veyn still stood. He was a small figure among the others, all of them becoming more indistinguishable the further we walked the bridge.

Elio drifted ahead when a group of first-year robes hurried past, laughter trailing behind them.

“What’s got you so interested in the first years?” Ardorion teased. “I’m sure a few of them could turn some heads, but you seem intent, my friend.”

Probably realizing the mistake in his words, Ardorion grinned quickly at Aster. “None could ever compare to you.”

Her mouth curved, violet eyes kindled. “Keep up the sweet talk, flameboy.”

Elio fell back beside us, smiling wide. “I’m looking for someone. I saw her in the library a few days ago, a first-year student, and she had the most beautiful smile. I plan to find her again. Figure out her name.”

My brows rose with equal parts surprise and relief. We’d just learned Elio had had a crush on Garnexis for some time, and the only ones who’d picked up on it were Ardorion, Orivian, and Garnexis. I’d prayed this didn’t hurt our group dynamics, so now I was thankful Elio’s attention was elsewhere.

Garnexis slipped up on Elio’s other side, shoulder bumping his. “I’m sure you’ll charm her with dragon facts. But please warn her ahead of time before you start.”

Elio’s teeth flashed. “I’m pretty sure she’s a dragon, too. An Iron Dragon.”

Ardorion all but bounced. “Go into dragon mode! Maybe she’ll join you in the sky.”

Elio shook his head with a rueful grin. “No can do. There’s not enough room here on the bridge to shift, and I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

My gaze measured the breadth of the span, thirty feet at least from rail to rail. Even that much space seemed too narrow for his wings. “Stone Dragons are the biggest among the dragon species.”

Like anyone cared about that fact, but my friends indulged me with smiles.

Elio’s grin lingered as if he still held back more dragon talk. Ardorion nearly vibrated with eagerness, but the moment passed, his shoulders drooping when it was clear Elio would not shift here on the bridge.

Orivian gave Elio a sidelong glance, voice easy. “Then may this new dragon of yours enjoy hearing every last detail of it.”

Garnexis’s lips curved, and she angled her body to fit against Orivian’s as he put an arm around her waist.

“Stories of dragons can fly all they want,” she said, “I’ll stay with the man who keeps his vows.”

Her words struck like a line drawn in the snow. Devotion and warning bound together. Garnexis had chosen, but her choice demanded constancy. Orivian held her, but only so long as his promises endured.

Elio slipped back to walk beside Rielle and me. His energy felt lighter than before, but I sensed the shift as he joined us. Both of Rielle and I walked away from our lovers, though not forever. The distance was temporary, unlike others who bore partings without a return. The thought pressed against my ribs, but I kept my stride even.

Ahead, Ardorion seemed unable to contain his delight in Aster’s company. Whatever weight he had carried this term fell from him now, each step beside her sharpening his focus. Garnexis likely felt the same with Orivian. They had survived the worst of the term and walked forward not alone.

“Orivian, we need you in our bro squad.” Ardorion nearly laughed at the startle in Orivian’s eyes. “Membership is open, and we could make it the bro square squad.”

Indecision crossed Orivian’s face.

Ardorion spun a flame across his knuckles, then pinched it out. “Unless you think I was really serious about melting your metal?”

It was a challenge Orivian would answer.

“Perhaps we should test that first?” His words carried a smile.

Ardorion’s mind likely already leapt toward contests, unable to avoid competition if he could help it. “We could set up it all up where we go head-to-head, like different levels. Maybe even bring in help to boost our stats.”

He lifted Aster’s hand and kissed her knuckles. Her violet eyes held him fast.

“Uh, that sounds like fun, but maybe I can think about it over the break?” Orivian’s tone softened, his focus lingering on Garnexis.

Something quiet but spoken moved between Ardorion and Aster. His posture shifted, fire dimming as he lowered their joined arms. The peace between them felt fragile, but real, like the first root pressing through soil.

Ardorion glanced at Orivian. “Right. We can discuss it when we return, but you’re in the bro squad regardless, metal head. You can’t be dating Garnexis and not be part of all of us.”

The bridge’s midpoint stretched before us, lanterns gleaming against snow-lined stone.

Two plinths stood on either side here, gargoyles crouched atop them. These ones didn’t move, but their eyes glowed whenever passing students brushed their clawed hands and whispered either a promise or hope for next semester. First-years lingered nearby, wide-eyed, learning the rite as if watching an ancient spell unfold.

A student hurried past with the latest newssheet flapping in his hand, catching sight of Halven as he raced ahead.

The newssheet’s main article had explained what so many whispered about in the last week of the semester, the days Wintermere seemed to thaw, Halven’s vanishing, his return. Orivian’s skill with words had shaped understanding where fear threatened to fill the void. Much of the truth was left out.

Lo leaned into Halven, her arm looped through his. Elio drifted toward them, which left only Rielle walking next to me until Garnexis drew near on my other side.

Rielle’s voice softened as she leaned toward us. “Do you think we’ll ever know what the entities are?”

I looked at the others in our group, knowing they wondered the same, but Halven was the one with all the knowledge. His expression had already turned inward, heavy with knowing. His stillness told its own story. He had seen them, touched the danger himself. He carried knowledge we weren’t given, and the thought pressed against my ribs like a root searching for ground.

He would never divulge his secrets. I knew this about my friend.

So I said, “Whatever they are, Lady Isa has warned us against looking into it further.”

My voice steadied the words even as Garnexis shifted, her whole stance bristling with challenge. She would break any boundary if pressed, but Halven spoke first.

“Let them sleep.”

Our steps slowed. His voice carried the weight of someone who had seen too much already. And he had, a survivor of war and now of these powerful entities that nearly took his life.

“They are responsible for our peace here,” he said. “That should be enough. Knowing anything more will only cause anxiety for our future because we can’t stop what will happen one day.”

The cold tightened then, like the breath of something ancient just beneath the surface. Halven’s words carried the experience of war in them, truths Isa had shielded us from, but he had lived. Survived. That kind of knowledge scarred deeper than any blade.

Maybe he was right. Some truths did not strengthen. Some only frayed what little safety we carried. Still, my chest ached at the thought of silence being the only shield.

Silence beyond the Seal.

The midpoint plinths loomed close, the gargoyles waiting. Our group of nine gathered around one of them.

Elio reached first, his hand against the claw. He chose hope. “May I find kindness first and meet my unknown angel.”

The gargoyle’s gray eyes glowed white, then dimmed again. Acceptance given. Although, I’ve never heard of a gargoyle not accepting a hope or promise.

“I hope you find her, Elio,” Garnexis said as she brushed the claws next and spoke her promise. “I will forge both skill and home in the same fire, so that I’ll never feel the need to run again.”

When she backed away from the glowing eyes, Orivian leaned close, fingers twining with a strand of her red hair as he whispered something only for her.

Lo stepped up next. “Help me build quiet strength for others and for myself.”

The gargoyle’s eyes glowed.

She returned to Halven’s side, and he smiled at her. “You already have those things, Lo. It’s what drew me to you.”

“Can’t hurt to keep practicing.”

“True.”

Then my hand grazed the stone. Like the others, I already knew what I’d promise. It was a reflection of the strength I’d found in myself this semester. “I will continue to protect what matters, the hearts of my friends, my love and family, and myself.”

“I love that, Shara,” Orivian said as he replaced me at the plinth, the gargoyle’s eyes dimming. His head bowed, hand pressed against the claw. “No matter what happens during our break, even if it means I must forsake my family, I will return as my own man, making my own choices, and always choosing what and who is best for me.”

Heat flickered in his gaze toward Garnexis, and for the first time she flushed. Garnexis didn’t get embarrassed by anything. Yet here she was, color rising at the edges of her steel composure. The exception had to be her fated mate, and I loved that for her.

Ardorion clapped Orivian’s shoulder as he stepped forward. “Well played, Orivian. Nice way to ruin all of our attempts at courtship when you keep spouting sentiments we could never achieve.”

He laughed and leaned into the moment as always, certain Orivian had earned his place among them.

Then Ardorion pressed his hand against the gargoyle. “I know you can’t help just sitting here looking mean at us, but you sure are intimidating.”

“Make your promise already,” Garnexis said.

Ardorion grinned at her.

“You got it all wrong. No promises here.” His throat bobbed as he looked up at the gargoyle, his hand firm on the claw. “Help me lead with steadier balance. Greatness is achieved in well-executed fusion.”

He glanced at Aster only in passing, though his hand still clung to hers as if balance began and ended with her.

Aster took her place after him, her voice steady. “Help me grow mastery and joy together with others and not alone.”

Her violet eyes glowed as the gargoyle’s stone eyes did. Fire and frost. Ardorion and Aster were once opposites, but now they tempered each other. She steadied him, and he lit something new in her. They were beautiful souls together.

He wrapped his arms around her when she stepped back, nuzzling her neck, lost to her.

Rielle spoke next, her fingers on the gargoyle’s claws. “I promise to anchor love and duty in the same breath but I will always guard love and call on courage when duty parts paths.”

The vow echoed across the bridge. For all her gentleness, Rielle carried a courage that anchored the rest of us. Her words wrapped around every silence we had endured this term.

Rielle didn’t move away from the glowing eyes, staring up at the gargoyle. Halven moved to join her, the last of us, and for a breath they stood as though the world remembered what they once were. It was not love the way it used to be, not with Lo waiting for him, and Neir waiting for her, but affection lived on, quiet and enduring.

The two of them were so similar in how they shared their love with everyone, yet they had yet to connect since Halven had been freed. Halven had Lo to think about, but right now, he seemed to make a decision about all of that.

“Rielle,” he said before pulling her into his arms when she looked at him. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

Rielle’s answer was soft, certain. “Never.”

My throat ached. I knew how much she had held back since he returned, never wanting to unsettle what he had with Lo. Yet in this one embrace, all that restraint gave way to the truth: care never really dies. I blinked hard, unwilling to let the tears fall. Two souls parting, moving on, but never severed.

Then she stepped back, giving him space at the plinth.

Halven, the last of our group, touched the stone claws. “We stand because our friends held us up. We endure because loyalty bound us together. May next year bring us the same strength, and the courage to keep using it.”

The words settled over all of us, a final stone in place.

It was perfect.

We left the plinth for others to speak their promises or hopes, the far shore drawing closer with every step.

The term had tested us. We nearly lost Halven. We brushed against something ancient that should have stayed buried. And still, we walked forward together. Not just classmates, not just Docilis, but something stronger. Roots that refused to break.

Power was not only in grand spells or elemental force. It lived in promises kept, in bonds guarded, in the courage to walk forward together when the ice beneath you had already cracked.

The academy stood behind us, steady as stone. The frozen lake whispered below, holding secrets in its silence.

Ahead waited our families, our futures, and whatever trials the seasons chose to send. But power does not rest in solitude or secrets. It roots in loyalty, in the people you guard, in the bonds you refuse to abandon.

I would keep protecting what mattered. My friends. My family. Veyn. And no matter what waited in the shadows of next term, I would not let those roots break.

THE END

Isa stood front and center with her entourage of faculty lined up like they were decorative bracers, Nivara Hall and the Academy rearing behind her in all its cold, carved glory. Black hair sleek, face sharp, eyes green enough to warn you off trying anything stupid. She had that look. Untouchable, immovable, like she’d been hammered into shape by fate itself. Which was exactly why I didn’t trust her.

Maybe I never would. But that didn’t matter.

I stood with Ardorion, Aster, Shara, Rielle, Halven, Lo, and Elio at the mouth of the Dragon’s Walkway. Orivian held close at my right. The bridge’s gargoyle kept station by the span, claws braced on the plinth.

The Grand Magister lifted her hand, and her voice cut clean through the noise on the steps, polished like steel and impossible to ignore. “Docilis of the Academy of Magic & Harmony, you studied hard and prevailed. Your exams stand as proof. I am proud of what you have accomplished, supporting the mission of this academy to find harmony in our combined magics.”

The gargoyle angled its head toward us as if to say something, but Orivian’s fingers closed over my hand, drawing my attention. His grip was a steady clasp that fit like forged work. When his thumb swept over my wrist, my veins jumped, remembering what his fingers felt like on my body.

Just then a black cat padded in and sat by Isa’s boots, giving me something else to think about. I’d wondered what happened to that cat after it took us to the Firebird. We’d never seen it again.

Ardorion rocked forward on his toes while elbowing Aster. “Look, it’s Queenie! The one I told you about.”

I rolled my eyes at how alike Ardorion and I were in our thinking. Actions, that was a different story. His excited statement echoed in the gathering and Isa frowned. Of course, Ardorion ignored that to share his smile with Aster.

Isa continued. “Rest now. You will return after your winter break and the start of the new year. Enjoy your family, cherish your friends, and have a happy celebration for Chaos’s Festival. We will see you next year.”

I tightened the strap on my bag and set my stance beside Orivian.

He leaned in close to me, his shoulder turned so his lips brushed my ear with his whisper. “Here we go.”

I shivered as the arch bell tolled. Wards dropped along the Dragon’s Walkway. Cheers rose, and the student body poured onto the span.

On the other side I would see my mother. Orivian would meet with his family. I had no idea how this would go. Although I couldn’t see my mother not loving Orivian as long as he stayed dedicated to me.

Nerves jumped in my skin as the crowd of students swallowed us. The gargoyle slouched closer, granite elbows scraping, horns dusted white. Its mouth tugged into a smirk, like it was watching the chaos and actually enjoying itself.

Figures. Even the statues found something to laugh at in this place.

His claw tapped the plinth. “Walk well. Bring back good stories. I hope to talk with you again.”

Ardorion gave the creature a jaunty, two-finger salute and strode ahead of us. We fell in around him beneath the sentinel’s gaze.

Cold rushed across the bridge, each breath misting into air that carried the sharp tang of Wintermere below. Our boots struck the stone in rhythm while lanterns along the rails stretched light into thin gold bars. The lake’s frozen expanse glimmered at either side, white and silent as eternity.

Aster brushed her hand along the rail, scooping up a mound of snow. “Home, then back here in a few weeks. Same doors, same rooms next term.”

Ardorion’s grin cut through the cold as he laced their fingers. “Same room.”

Heat trailed from his other palm, spinning steam into a curl that created a laughing face before vanishing. Aster chuckled, her reserve softened only for him.

Shara’s voice carried low to Rielle. “Make the most of your weeks with him.”

I winced. Rielle was the only one of us to carry on in the next term with her newfound love. Neir’s duties as a guardian of magic would take him away by the end of the break, and once graduation came, Rielle would follow him on his travels outside of Nythral. The thought of her leaving pressed at me more than I wanted to admit. I’d grown used to her quiet steadiness, and losing that presence would carve something out of my new family.

But she met Shara’s words with grace, calm as ever, while I could only measure the future without her like a blade against my ribs, sharp, inevitable, but not here yet.

Walking on Ardorion’s other side, Elio gave him a mischievous grin that brightened his face. Ardorion fished out a parchment from his robes to flash his marks like a badge.

Elio tapped his pocket, smug as ever. “We all made it through the gauntlet.”

Rielle held her page up. I raised mine in turn. Shara only nodded. The knot between my ribs eased. Our quad would stay intact, same rooms, same walls, same bonds tested but not broken.

No need to run ever again.

Our gazes turned toward Halven as one.

He slipped a folded schedule into his robes. “I’ll be spending a few hours after classes next semester to catch up, but Lady Isa is giving me the chance to continue so I can graduate on time with the rest of you.”

Lo’s hand threaded with his, her step falling in line with his pace. “I’ll help you.”

Halven kissed her temple, voice low and meant for her alone. Rielle’s expression softened, a faint smile toward Lo, then she moved close enough that her sleeve brushed Aster’s. The shadow that had haunted her was gone, replaced with warmth that steadied more than her own heart. Neir had probably done that more than anything else. The werewolf was good for Rielle.

Elio’s grin stretched wider at his quadmates’ affection. “Next semester’s classes are going to crush us. I hope our love lives can survive the workload.”

Rielle raised a brow. “Did you get a final verdict, Shara?”

Veyn was already mouthing off about walking out of the Academy, like storming off solved anything. It didn’t, and I should know. But with Shara tangling up in him again, we all wondered if Isa would even let the two of them continue. Academy rules and all about faculty and students dating.

Shara’s satchel shifted under her hand as she drew out the sealed notice. Isa’s sigil pressed bright against the wax. Her voice stayed even. “Isa is allowing our relationship, given our history before the Academy. I’m just not allowed to enroll in any of his courses again.”

Rielle frowned. “I know you looked forward to taking Advanced Theory of Elemental Fusion with Veyn next semester.”

Ardorion’s laugh came quick. “It’s not like she can’t get private lessons.”

Red swept across Shara’s cheeks no matter how she tried to smother her smile. Her eyes drifted toward where Veyn lingered with the faculty behind us.

Elio pushed ahead when a cluster of first-years hurried past, their laughter carrying bright into the air.

“What’s got you so interested in the first years?” Ardorion asked him. “I mean, I’m sure a few of them could turn some heads, but you seem intent, my friend.”

Quick to recognize the trap in his own words, Ardorion flashed Aster a grin like fire fed by her attention. “None could ever compare to you.”

She met it with a low smile. “Keep up the sweet talk, flameboy.”

Elio fell back beside Ardorion, a wide smile tugging his mouth. “I’m looking for someone. I saw her in the library a few days ago, a first-year student, and she had the most beautiful smile. I plan to find her again. Figure out her name.”

Something inside me settled. For all his easy charm, Elio had carried a quiet tension this term, circling around me with unspoken interest. He never pressed it, but it lingered. Now, at least, his gaze turned elsewhere. I did not doubt his loyalty, but a clean line made for clearer footing.

I really didn’t want to be the cause of trouble between Elio and Orivian. I would never choose another, and it relieved me to know I wouldn’t have to say anything more to Elio.

Goodwill abounding, I slid in at Elio’s other side and bumped his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll charm her with dragon facts. But please warn her ahead of time before you start.”

He flashed teeth. “I’m pretty sure she’s a dragon, too. An Iron Dragon.”

Ardorion nearly bounced with excitement. “Go into dragon mode! Maybe she’ll join you in the sky.”

Elio shook his head with a rueful grin. “No can do. There’s not enough room here on the bridge to shift, and I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

The bridge stretched broad beneath us, thirty or forty feet at least. How vast was Elio’s dragon body?

Shara’s voice rose calm and certain behind us. “Stone Dragons are the biggest among the dragon species.”

Interesting. I really had very little knowledge about dragons.

Orivian gave Elio a sidelong glance. “Then may this new dragon of yours enjoy hearing every last detail of it.”

My lips curved, and I leaned into Orivian as his arm settled at my waist. “Stories of dragons can fly all they want. I’ll stay with the man who keeps his vows.”

Let Elio chase his fantasies. I spoke truth. Orivian had my bond, but bonds could be broken if vows cracked beneath them. He knew that.

Elio drifted back to join Shara and Rielle, leaving me up ahead with Ardorion. Those two women carried the look of people torn from someone they actually wanted beside them, but with the comfort of knowing it wouldn’t last. Veyn and Neir waited behind them back with Isa, but their separation was a bruise, not a break. I didn’t envy them. At least bruises heal. They had certainty in return. Not everyone could claim that.

Ardorion’s voice rang out, bright with mischief. “Orivian, we need you in our bro squad. Membership is open, and we could make it the bro square squad.”

Surprise flickered across Orivian’s face. He weighed it. He always weighed things, metal in his blood even in thought.

Ardorion spun a flame across his knuckles, snuffed it with relish. “Unless you think I was really serious about melting your metal?”

A challenge Orivian would never walk away from.

“Perhaps we should test that first?” he answered, eyes glinting.

Of course Ardorion leapt to competition. “We could set it all up where we go head-to-head, like different levels. Maybe even bring in help to boost our stats.”

He lifted Aster’s hand and pressed his mouth to her knuckles.

“Uh, that sounds like fun, but maybe I can think about it over the break?” Orivian’s words stayed light, but his glance slid back to me.

I shrugged, telling him to do whatever he wanted. I don’t think he’d be able to hold out against Ardorion’s competitive nature anyway.

Whatever passed between Ardorion and Aster wasn’t for the rest of us. One second he was blazing, the next he blinked and dropped their arms like the fight had leaked out of him. I rolled my eyes. Leave it to those two to make even silence look dramatic.

Ardorion wiped a hand down his robes as he glanced back at Orivian. “Right. We can discuss it when we return, but you’re in the bro squad regardless, metal head. You can’t be dating Garnexis and not be part of all of us.”

He wasn’t wrong. No one claimed me without claiming what came with me, my family here. I knew that now, and it warmed my heart in a way I have never felt in my life.

The bridge’s midway point drew closer, flanked by plinths where gargoyles crouched. Their eyes glowed each time a student brushed clawed stone, whispering a promise or a hope for the term ahead. First-years gathered near, drinking in the ritual that belonged to us, not the faculty.

A boy rushed past clutching the latest newssheet. His gaze snagged on Halven, as if words on the page had suddenly walked to life. Orivian’s writing had set the story straight. Everything about Halven’s disappearance, his return, the strange thaw at Wintermere. Orivian could forge cloudy truth very well. It lay in what wasn’t said.

Lo tightened her hold on Halven, and Elio drifted back toward them. Rielle and Shara closed in at my side, our line drawing tighter.

“Do you think we’ll ever know what the entities are?” Rielle’s question threaded soft between us.

Ardorion shook his head, but Halven’s expression betrayed his thoughts. His silence was louder than words. No use pretending otherwise. He’d dealt with those things firsthand. The way he shut down, the way he dodged. He knew more than we’d been told. And the fact he wasn’t saying it out loud? That told me I was right.

But we were allowed our secrets. Halven more than anyone. I would hate everyone here if they tried to force what I wouldn’t share. I wouldn’t do that to him. And neither would anyone else.

Isa should be the one to tell us, yet she wouldn’t. She was the one to distrust.

“Whatever they are, Lady Isa has warned us against looking into it further,” Shara said, ever the rule-bound one.

My body spoke before my mouth could. My stance shifted, my chin lifted. Rules were meant to be broken. They kept chains on discovery, and chains were meant to break.

“Let them sleep,” Halven said, voice cutting through the thought.

We slowed to hear him.

“They are responsible for our peace here. That should be enough. Knowing anything more will only cause anxiety for our future because we can’t stop what will happen one day.”

The air edged colder, as though his words carried something ancient with them. He spoke of war. Not theory, not lesson, but something lived. That kind of knowledge never left. Maybe silence held wisdom. Or maybe it only hid truths waiting to be forced open. My gut still bristled. Secrets always begged for light, but in this case, maybe he was right.

Silence beyond the Seal.

The midpoint lay in front of us, gargoyles crouched in their vigil. The nine of us gathered around one of them.

Elio pressed his hand to the stone first, voice earnest. “May I find kindness first and meet my unknown angel.”

The gargoyle’s gray eyes glowed white, then dimmed. Acceptance, as always. Although, I’ve never heard of a gargoyle not accepting a hope or promise.

“I hope you find her, Elio,” I said as my fingers brushed the gargoyle’s claws next. Although the voice in my head telling me to run had disappeared, I didn’t think it was a permanent state. I’m sure the days, weeks, and months ahead would test me, so I spoke my promise. “I will forge both skill and home in the same fire, so that I’ll never feel the need to run again.”

The gray eyes glowed before dimming. Orivian leaned close, fingers catching a strand of my hair, his whisper meant for me alone. “If you ever need to run again, know that I will follow wherever you lead. You’ll never run alone again.”

The promise in his words not only made my heart feel stronger, but heat rushed to my core, and I couldn’t wait until the end of this day, when we’d promised it would only be us, no matter what our families said.

His warmth lingered as Lo took her turn. “Help me build quiet strength for others and for myself.”

The gargoyle accepted, its eyes flaring bright.

She returned to Halven, his smile softening his face. “You already have those things, Lo. It’s what drew me to you.”

“Can’t hurt to keep practicing.”

“True.”

Shara stepped up next, hand brushing stone. “I will continue to protect what matters, the hearts of my friends, my love and family, and myself.”

“I love that, Shara,” Orivian said as he moved past her, bowing his head as he rested his hand against the gargoyle’s claw. “No matter what happens during our break, even if it means I must forsake my family, I will return as my own man, making my own choices, and always choosing what and who is best for me.”

His words ended on me, heat sparking in his gaze, continuing the ache already building inside me. For once, I could not stop the flush rising in my cheeks. I never blushed. Yet Orivian had a way of forging through even my armor.

Ardorion clapped his shoulder. “Well played, Orivian. Nice way to ruin all of our attempts at courtship when you keep spouting sentiments we could never achieve.”

His laughter carried as he turned to the gargoyle. “I know you can’t help just sitting here looking mean at us, but you sure are intimidating.”

“Make your promise already,” I cut in, my voice edged. Better to shift attention away from me and Orivian.

He gave me a grin as if he knew the game. “You got it all wrong. No promises here.”

He touched the claw. “Help me lead with steadier balance. Greatness is achieved in well-executed fusion.”

For once, Ardorion’s words carried more than fire and bravado. Balance and fusion. Not the language I expected from him. He hid depth behind his noise, but it was there, waiting for moments like this to break through. Maybe Aster had tempered him, or maybe hardship had. Either way, I respected him more for it. Not every vow had to blaze bright. Some needed to anchor, steady, endure.

Aster followed, her hope ringing with quiet resolve. “Help me grow mastery and joy together with others and not alone.”

Her words carried more weight than she likely knew. Fire and frost, strength and patience, two halves tempered in one another when it came to her and Ardorion.

Ardorion’s arms wrapped around her, his attention swallowed whole. Their moment nearly drowned out Rielle’s vow.

“I promise to anchor love and duty in the same breath but I will always guard love and call on courage when duty parts paths.”

Her conviction struck true. She had carried much this term and still spoke of love without bitterness. She’d blamed herself for Halven coming to Nivara Hall early when she’d broken up with him, which of course led to him hearing the voices that nearly killed him. Yet, she’d done everything to find a way to save him, even knowing that his heart had already moved on to Lo. That strength demanded respect.

She still stood next to the statue, looking up at the gargoyle when Halven stepped forward. He was the last of us to face the plinth, and he gazed down at her. Rielle wore a soft smile, steady as moonlight. You didn’t need to be a dreamer to see the history between them. They’d moved on. Even Rielle. Everyone knew that, but there was still a thread, faint but uncut.

They had yet to speak to each other since Halven came back to us. The situation not ideal since Halven had Lo to think about, their relationship still so new. But now he seemed to make a decision about that.

He said her name, and she turned toward him. Then he hugged her. A simple thing, but heavy as steel. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

Her answer was muffled against his chest, just one word—“Never.”

Whatever lay between them still wasn’t romantic. It was something else, something harder to name. And it mattered more than any promise we’d spoken.

Then she stepped back, giving him space at the plinth.

Halven placed his hand on the gargoyle. “We stand because our friends held us up. We endure because loyalty bound us together. May next year bring us the same strength, and the courage to keep using it.”

The words rang like metal struck clean. A vow not to himself, but to all of us.

We left the plinth for the next students, the bridge stretching toward lantern light and the waiting shore. Pines marked the horizon, silent witnesses to our return.

I once thought power was only conquest, blade against blade, proving myself to anyone who doubted. But strength is more than victories. It is what you forge and what you keep. Skill, home, and bonds that hold when tested.

Orivian walked at my side, the weight of his vow still pressing through me. He was mine because he chose to be, and I would hold him to that.

The term had nearly broken us, all of us, under ice and shadow, yet we came through standing. That was what mattered. We were no longer just Docilis. We had become something forged, tempered, unbreakable. Together.

And next term, I would keep forging myself into something no one could shape but me, but a shape that fit with others.

The Dragon’s Walkway carried us forward. Behind us, the academy stood, stone against time. Ahead, the future waited, and I intended to claim it on my own terms.

THE END

Isa stood at the front, the faculty flanking her like shadows, and Nivara Hall and the Academy loomed behind her, gray and silent as winter stone heavy with story. Her dark hair curved around her face, and her eyes, the green lines bright today, seemed to hold secrets she would never speak aloud. Looking at her felt like staring at a dream you weren’t meant to enter, something both beautiful and too dangerous to approach.

Neir stood with them, no robes, a dark tunic laced neat and boots fastened tight. An hour at most and the Academy would give him back to me. He had promised to follow once the students crossed the bridge back to the mainland. A few weeks lay ahead of us, nothing more. Duty would call him away again, the endless road of a guardian pulling him where I could not follow yet. But weeks were still weeks, and I would take every breath of them.

I stood with Ardorion, Aster, Shara, Garnexis, Halven, Lo, Orivian, and Elio at the mouth of the Dragon’s Walkway. The bridge gargoyle kept its post beside the span, frost threading its horns.

The Grand Magister’s hand rose, and her voice flowed over the steps, clear and ringing. “Docilis of the Academy of Magic & Harmony, you studied hard and prevailed. Your exams stand as proof. I am proud of what you have accomplished, supporting the mission of this academy to find harmony in our combined magics.”

The gargoyle shifted next to us, stone on stone, but my attention locked onto the black cat that padded in and sat by Isa’s boots. Shara caught my eye, a quick smile shared between us. We’d had just spoken to each other about the mysterious feline who’d led us to the Firebird. We hadn’t seen her since.

Ardorion rocked forward on his toes as he elbowed Aster. “Look, it’s Queenie! The one I told you about.”

First years echoed the name. Queenie flicked an ear and wrapped her tail around Isa’s ankle. Isa pressed her lips together. Neir’s mouth tilted, then settled.

Isa continued. “Rest now. You will return after your winter break and the start of the new year. Enjoy your family, cherish your friends, and have a happy celebration for Chaos’s Festival. We will see you next year.”

I set my cloak clasp and touched the gargoyle’s plinth for luck.

The arch bell tolled. Wards dropped along the Dragon’s Walkway. Cheers rose, and the student body poured onto the span.

We turned with the others, almost pulled into the tide of students, but the gargoyle leaned down on heavy elbows, horns brushed in snow. Its mouth curved, almost tender, as if carved stone could feel affection. For a heartbeat, it seemed alive in a way that made the world feel thinner.

A claw tapped the plinth. “Walk well. Bring back good stories. I hope to talk with you again.”

Ardorion lifted two fingers in salute and strode out first. The rest of us gathered in around him, the sentinel watching as if it kept count of every step.

Blessed winter streamed over us, breath rising in fleeting clouds, and I inhaled deeply. I would cherish my season until the end of the school year, when spring would settle in. Hundreds of boots struck a steady beat against the stone bridge, and the lanterns along the rails painted thin rivers of gold ahead of us. Wintermere stretched endless on either side, white and hushed, its silence heavier than words.

Aster trailed her hand along the railing, gathering snow into her palm. “Home, then back here in a few weeks. Same doors, same rooms next term.”

Ardorion’s grin broke through the chill as he clasped her hand. “Same room.”

Heat curled from his other palm, twisting into the air into a laughing shape before it vanished. Aster’s laugh rang softer than most ever heard from her, warmth wrapped tight against him.

Already I felt the ache of Neir’s absence. He wasn’t leaving yet, but I just couldn’t imagine the strain on my soul when he did leave.

Shara gripped and squeezed my hand quickly as if reading my thoughts. “Make the most of your weeks with him.”

I gave her a thankful smile while admiring her fortitude. When I first told everyone that after graduation, I would be leaving to travel the world with Neir, she took it the hardest. I was the one to remind her that we still had two and half years together.

Elio bumped Ardorion’s shoulder with a grin, some type of prompt that sent Ardorion fishing a parchment out of his robes, brandishing his marks for the semester.

Elio tapped his pocket. “We all made it through the gauntlet.”

I lifted my page, Garnexis lifted hers. Shara gave only a nod, and a thread of tension loosened in my chest. Our quad would remain as it was, the same walls, the same lives interlaced. That steadiness mattered.

Almost as one, our eyes shifted to Halven.

He slipped a folded schedule into his robes. “I’ll be spending a few hours after classes next semester to catch up, but Lady Isa is giving me the chance to continue so I can graduate on time with the rest of you.”

Lo’s fingers wove through his, her pace matching his stride. “I’ll help you.”

He bent to kiss her temple, voice lowered just for her. A warmth pressed into me at the sight, not bitterness but something softer. I smiled at Lo and eased nearer to Aster until my sleeve brushed hers. No shadows clung to me now, only a quiet contentment.

Soon I would see my family, then be in Neir’s arms again. Everything was as it should be.

Elio smirked at their closeness. “Next semester’s classes are going to crush us. I hope our love lives can survive the workload.”

I raised my brow toward Shara. “Did you get a final verdict, Shara?”

Veyn’s words echoed in my thoughts, the threat of leaving the Academy hanging heavy between the stones. My chest ached for Shara, knowing how much of her heart had always bent toward him. Would Isa even allow their bond to stay, or would she insist they follow the rules of the Academy? Teachers were not allowed to date students.

Her satchel shifted as she drew a sealed notice, Isa’s sigil pressed firm against the wax. “Isa is allowing our relationship, given our history before the Academy. I’m just not allowed to enroll in any of his courses again.”

The ache behind her calm words did not escape me. “I know you looked forward to taking Advanced Theory of Elemental Fusion with Veyn next semester.”

Ardorion laughed. “It’s not like she can’t get private lessons.”

Color rushed to Shara’s cheeks though she tried to mask it. Her gaze slipped back toward Veyn standing with the faculty behind us. I also looked back and found Neir’s steady gaze on me.

Elio brushed past suddenly, pushing forward when a cluster of first-years hurried ahead, laughter tumbling in their wake.

“What’s got you so interested in the first years?” Ardorion asked. “I mean, I’m sure a few of them could turn some heads, but you seem intent, my friend.”

Too late Ardorion realized his words and flashed a wide grin at Aster before trying to walk back his sentiment. “None could ever compare to you.”

Her mouth tilted with restrained warmth. “Keep up the sweet talk, flameboy.”

Elio drifted beside Ardorion, his smile quick and wide. “I’m looking for someone. I saw her in the library a few days ago, a first-year student, and she had the most beautiful smile. I plan to find her again. Figure out her name.”

Relief brushed through me. He had spoken once of Garnexis with a glimmer too close to longing, and I had wondered if it would strain what held us together. Now his heart turned elsewhere, and that eased the knot.

Garnexis slipped up on his other side, bumping his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll charm her with dragon facts. But please warn her ahead of time before you start.”

His grin widened. “I’m pretty sure she’s a dragon, too. An Iron Dragon.”

Ardorion nearly bounced. “Go into dragon mode! Maybe she’ll join you in the sky.”

Elio shook his head, rueful but amused. “No can do. There’s not enough room here on the bridge to shift, and I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

The span stretched wide, thirty or forty feet, yet even this much space must not be enough by his own admission. He must be quite a beast to behold.

Shara’s voice carried steady from next to me. “Stone Dragons are the biggest among the dragon species.”

Their laughter carried me forward, but underneath it I counted the days I still had with Neir.

Orivian gave Elio a sidelong glance, his tone smooth. “Then may this new dragon of yours enjoy hearing every last detail of it.”

Garnexis curved a smile and leaned into him as his arm wrapped her waist. “Stories of dragons can fly all they want. I’ll stay with the man who keeps his vows.”

Her words landed with both warmth and warning. Devotion laced with steel, reminding Orivian that her loyalty stood only as long as his promises did. A bond tested and tempered all at once.

Elio fell in step beside Shara and me, his presence easing some of the quiet that had settled between us. His bright grin carried me.

Shara and I were both walking away from the ones we loved, though only for a time. Shara would return to Veyn, I to Neir. That knowledge should have softened the ache, but it lingered all the same. Distance, even temporary, still pressed heavy in the chest.

And beneath it, another weight lived.

Halven’s absence beside me.

Not as a lover anymore, but as someone I would always love in another shape. Some partings carve deeper, leaving marks even when they’re no longer wounds. And I didn’t know how to heal this wound left by his absence. I didn’t know how to bridge what we were to what we could be.

Ardorion broke the quiet with mischief. “Orivian, we need you in our bro squad. Membership is open, and we could make it the bro square squad.”

Surprise flickered across Orivian’s face before he turned thoughtful.

Ardorion spun flame along his knuckles before snuffing it out. “Unless you think I was really serious about melting your metal?”

The challenge sparked, and Orivian could not turn from it.

“Perhaps we should test that first?” His words carried a smile.

New excitement lit up Ardorion’s features. He loved contests. “We could set it all up where we go head-to-head, like different levels. Maybe even bring in help to boost our stats.”

He kissed Aster’s hand, his gaze fixed on hers.

“Uh, that sounds like fun, but maybe I can think about it over the break?” Orivian’s voice lightened, his attention sliding back toward Garnexis.

Aster’s voice dropped husky. “Ardorion.”

A flicker crossed the space between Ardorion and Aster, something private left better to be named by them. His eyes softened, then he blinked and lowered their arms.

His daze broke, awkwardness flushing through his movement as he wiped his robes. “Right. We can discuss it when we return, but you’re in the bro squad regardless, metal head. You can’t be dating Garnexis and not be part of all of us.”

Ahead, the midpoint of the bridge came into view.

On either side of the bridge, two gargoyles crouched on their plinths, never moving but alive in their own way. Their eyes glowed with each hand that brushed them, each whispered hope or promise given into their eternal keeping. First-years clustered near, watching as though witnessing a rite older than the Academy itself.

A student sprinted past with the latest newssheet flapping in his hand. His wide eyes latched onto Halven, the boy’s breath catching on recognition.

Orivian’s writing had given truth to rumor, weaving sense from mystery. Halven’s disappearance, his return, the thawing of Wintermere. Orivian had shaped the story into something people could hold while still burying the truth that couldn’t be shared.

Lo’s arm tightened around Halven’s, pulling him close. Elio drifted over to them, and Garnexis joined us, her presence balanced on the other side of Shara.

I let my words slip between us, quiet but steady. “Do you think we’ll ever know what the entities are?”

Halven heard my words, I’m sure. His silence spoke more than denial. He had stood before the entities, felt their presence, even heard their voices. He knew more than Isa admitted, more than he dared speak. And that silence cut through me like frost, because if he wouldn’t share it—not with me, not with any of us—then the truth had to be unbearable.

“Whatever they are, Lady Isa has warned us against looking into it further,” Shara said, her voice carrying the firmness of rules she always held to.

Garnexis’s whole posture pushed against that thought, her body already a statement of defiance. Not against Halven, I knew. She deeply mistrusted Isa.

“Let them sleep,” Halven said, forestalling Garnexis’s outburst.

Our steps slowed, his words drawing us in.

“They are responsible for our peace here. That should be enough. Knowing anything more will only cause anxiety for our future because we can’t stop what will happen one day.”

A chill ran through the air as if something old stirred beneath his voice. He spoke of war. Not in lesson, not in theory, but in the way someone speaks who has gone through it. His burden pressed heavy, but it was his to bear. He had survived, and survival gave him a kind of authority none of us could match.

I longed to believe that truth always gave strength. Yet the way he said it, quiet and certain, made me pause. Perhaps some truths did not heal. Perhaps some only split the world open further.

The midpoint plinths rose before us. We gathered around one of the gargoyles, nine voices soon to shape the silence.

Elio pressed his hand to the claw first. His grin softened. “May I find kindness first and meet my unknown angel.”

The gargoyle’s eyes glowed white, then dimmed. The hope accepted. Although, I’ve never heard of a gargoyle not accepting a hope or promise.

“I hope you find her, Elio,” Garnexis said as she brushed the claws next as she spoke her promise. “I will forge both skill and home in the same fire, so that I’ll never feel the need to run again.”

The gargoyle’s gray eyes glowed. She stepped back and Orivian bent close, his hand catching a strand of her hair, whispering words meant only for her. Lo came forward.

“Help me build quiet strength for others and for myself.”

The gargoyle answered in light.

She returned to Halven’s side, and his smile softened. “You already have those things, Lo. It’s what drew me to you.”

“Can’t hurt to keep practicing.”

“True.”

Shara laid her hand to the stone. “I will continue to protect what matters, the hearts of my friends, my love and family, and myself.”

“I love that, Shara,” Orivian said as he took her place. He rested his hand on the gargoyle’s claw for a long pause. “No matter what happens during our break, even if it means I must forsake my family, I will return as my own man, making my own choices, and always choosing what and who is best for me.”

His gaze lingered on Garnexis, and for once she flushed. Garnexis never flushed. Yet the bond between them carried a strength none of us could ignore.

Ardorion clapped him on the shoulder as he moved forward. “Well played, Orivian. Nice way to ruin all of our attempts at courtship when you keep spouting sentiments we could never achieve.”

He laughed, then pressed his hand to the gargoyle. “I know you can’t help just sitting here looking mean at us, but you sure are intimidating.”

“Make your promise already,” Garnexis said, rubbing her ruddy cheeks.

Ardorion grinned, never one to pass up a chance to tease her.

“You got it all wrong. No promises here.” Then his tone shifted as he touched the stone. “Help me lead with steadier balance. Greatness is achieved in well-executed fusion.”

Aster followed, her vow carrying quiet strength. “Help me grow mastery and joy together with others and not alone.”

Her words drew Ardorion to her like flame to air, his arms circling her as though he could not help himself. Their bond glowed steady, forged through hardship.

My turn came, and I pressed my hand to the gargoyle. “I promise to anchor love and duty in the same breath but I will always guard love and call on courage when duty parts paths.”

The vow left me with a tightening in my chest, but also a steadiness. Love and duty did not need to war against each other, not if I held both with open hands. Neir’s path already pulled him beyond these walls, but our love did not weaken for it. I would guard what we had until the day I could walk beside him without parting.

The gargoyle’s eyes brightened, then dimmed. I smiled.

Halven came to stand beside me, the last of us to speak his hope or promise, and for a moment it was as if years folded in on themselves. We still hadn’t spoken to each other since he came out of his ice prison, but I felt the weight of everything we’d once shared. Every laugh, every secret, every kiss that had long since faded into memory. We had moved on. He had Lo. I had my own path with Neir.

Yet love remained. Not the kind that binds two hearts, but the kind that never truly unravels.

“Rielle.”

His voice turned me to him, and before I could breathe, he pulled me close. His arms were familiar, strong as they had always been. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

The tears came fast, though I pressed my cheek against his chest to hide them. My voice broke, but the word was true. “Never.”

I stepped back then, leaving him the space he needed, though my chest still ached with the old truth: some bonds change, but they never vanish.

Halven looked up at the gargoyle as he touched the clawed hand. “We stand because our friends held us up. We endure because loyalty bound us together. May next year bring us the same strength, and the courage to keep using it.”

The words resonated, simple yet profound.

The gargoyles dimmed behind us as we left the plinth. Lanterns drew us toward the far shore, where families waited, voices and warmth already spilling across the snow. Pines rose against the horizon, steady and green. Neir would follow within the hour, and for a few short weeks he would be mine. Time counted sweeter when it was borrowed, and I would spend every moment as if it might be the last before duty called him away again.

This term had carried all of us to the edge of losing each other. We had walked under ice, touched shadows no one should ever touch. Yet we endured. Together.

Strength is not always battle. It is holding on when others cannot. It is giving love when grief claws close. It is listening to silence and not turning away.

That is what binds us. That is what makes us endure.

Docilis had been our beginning, but we had become something far deeper. Friends who carried one another through fire and through silence both.

The Dragon’s Walkway carried us toward home, toward those who waited. The academy stood steady behind us, the frozen lake silent below. And ahead, the future reached across the cold. Another term waited, full of trials and wonder. We would face it together, and I would keep love and duty bound in the same breath.

THE END