<-Kael>
The heavy infirmary doors creaked open as we stepped inside, and the scent hit me first—herbs, incense, and something faintly metallic that could only be blood. Our boots echoed against the polished stone floor, soft but steady, like we were entering a sacred place. In a way, maybe we were.
Tall windows let in afternoon light, streaking golden lines across the beds and casting long shadows that made the whole place feel... quiet. Reverent. Like even pain had to whisper here.
I walked near the front, shoulder to shoulder with Flynn—though his usual swagger was muted today. Vanessa was just behind us, eyes sharper than usual but quieter too. I could hear the other cadets filing in behind, hushed and awed, all of us walking like guests in a temple.
And then we heard laughter.
It came from the far end of the room, light but scratchy—like someone who'd laughed too hard after crying. I followed the sound and spotted her: Nora, wrapped in thick bandages and propped up on a cot like a queen on her throne. Her hair looked like she'd just fought off a tornado, but her smirk? Unshaken. Fierce.
Across from her lay Lisa, her arm in a sling, stitches running down her forearm like silver thread. But she still looked like she could chew nails and spit lightning. They looked like hell.
And they looked proud.
"There's our champion," Flynn said with a grin, striding forward. "Still breathing, huh?"
Nora raised a brow. "Barely. You should see the other guy."
"That was the other guy," Lisa muttered, shooting her a mock glare.
Vanessa snapped a salute. "Queen of the arena. Don't forget us when you're famous."
Nora snorted. "Flattery won't spare you in a rematch."
Lisa chuckled. "You'll be lucky if your legs work by then. I heard you tripped over your own ego."
"Lies," Nora said with mock indignation. "It was a dramatic flourish."
"It was a faceplant."
Their banter pulled laughter from all around us—nurses included. For a heartbeat, it was easy to forget the bruises, the stitches, the pain.
I found myself smiling.
Then I saw the sword.
It lay across Nora's lap, simple and wooden like the rest of ours—but it wasn't. Dark polish, smooth grain and an engraving. A spiral with twin wings etched so delicately it could've been a whisper.
My stomach tightened.
"Where did you get that?" I asked before I could stop myself.
Nora glanced down. "This?" She lifted it slightly. "Said it's a traditional gift—only given to cadets who 'show promise.' Guess winning helps. Why?"
I stared at the spiral, heart thudding. That same symbol was carved into the metal pommel of the sword my mother kept locked away in the basement. The one she said I wasn't ready to touch.
I muttered under my breath, "So that's why... she said I haven't earned it yet."
Nora tilted her head. "What was that?"
"Nothing," I said quickly, shaking off the thought. "Just looked familiar. My dad had one like it. Thought it was... a family heirloom."
Vanessa leaned in. "Wait—your dad? Was he a champion too?"
I hesitated. "His name was Alfred. He was a knight. Maybe more."
That's when the voice cut through the air—rough, aged, and laced with something heavier than suspicion.
"Did I just hear you say Alfred?"
We all turned. A tall guard stood in the doorway, his armor bearing the insignia of the Sentinels. His eyes, sharp and shadowed by thick brows, locked onto me.
"Yeah," I said cautiously. "That was my father's name."
He stepped forward, boots heavy on the floor. "Then you're Alfred's boy. Philip's grandson."
A chill ran down my spine.
"You knew him?"
The man chuckled—but it wasn't warm. More like gravel being ground underfoot. "Know him? I served beside him. Just hope you don't end up like him. And maybe... save some for your classmates if you know what I mean."
"What?" I asked, suddenly on edge. "What do you mean?"
His face turned to stone. "You'll understand soon enough."
He left without another word.
The silence he left behind was louder than any crowd roar. I stood there, chest tight, too many thoughts to name.
Flynn stepped close, voice low. "What… did your dad do?"
I shook my head slowly. "I have no idea."
The others sensed the shift and slowly began saying their goodbyes. Nora and Lisa waved them off with promises to meet again in the ring, but the mood had changed. The celebration had turned into something quieter. Heavier.
Eventually, everyone trickled out. But I stayed.
I needed air.
<-RYN>
I walked alone.
The garden paths behind the academy were nearly empty—just cobblestone, wind, and dying light. I liked it that way. Easier to think. Or not think. Either worked.
I should've been happy for Nora. For Lisa. We had history, the three of us. But after everything… the win didn't feel like mine.
And I wasn't stupid.
Kael was strong.
Too strong.
I hadn't forgotten the way he moved during training. Like his body knew things his brain hadn't caught up to yet.
Footsteps behind me.
I didn't need to look.
"Ryn!" Kael's voice—urgent, not angry.
I stiffened. Thought about walking faster. Thought about running. But—
He jogged to catch up. "You know you can't avoid me forever."
I stopped and turned.
"Wasn't trying to."
He gave a half-laugh, breathing harder than he should've. "Sure didn't look that way."
I stayed quiet.
"You okay?" he asked.
I shrugged. "You tell me. You beat everyone but didn't win. Your dad's some legendary mystery. A Sentinel just warned you about your own bloodline. Meanwhile, I'm… nothing."
"That's not true," he said, more earnest than I expected.
<-Ryn>
Ryn sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "What do you want me to say?"
I crossed my arms, keeping my voice steady. "I just want to understand. Why?"
He kicked at a loose pebble, watching it skip down the path like it had somewhere more important to be. "I don't know. I guess… I was jealous."
That stopped me cold.
"Jealous?" I blinked. "You come from money. Your house is five times the size of mine. You have servants. A training hall. What could you possibly envy?"
"It's not the house," he muttered. His voice was softer now, less guarded. "It's… you. The way you carry yourself. Like you're not afraid of any of this. Like none of it scares you. And people notice."
I looked at him, hard. "I was bullied most of my life, Ryn. You were one of them."
"I know." His words dropped like stones, heavy with guilt. "And I regret it. But it's different now. You've changed. People talk about you. I see how they look at you—they expect you to be something great."
My jaw tightened. The words felt like a trap. "So that's why you sent assassins to my home?"
His face snapped toward me, eyes wide. "What? No—I didn't—"
"One of the men who attacked us was your butler. Jade."
He paled. I saw the color drain from his face like someone had ripped out the floor beneath him. "Jade? No. That… that can't be. I didn't—" His voice cracked. "I swear, I didn't know."
I narrowed my eyes. "You expect me to believe that?"
"I swear on everything," he said, voice raw. "After you knocked me out at the warehouse, I went home. Jade asked about the bruise. I didn't tell him anything. That was the last I saw of him. I haven't seen Thorne or Silas either—I dismissed them."
I stared at him, studying every twitch of his jaw, every flicker of his eyes. Was he lying? I couldn't tell.
"You awakened that night?" I asked.
He nodded. "Yeah. I've been training every day since. Maybe… maybe we should talk to Thorne. He might know something."
I gave a slow nod, still cautious. "Alright. Let's go."
We walked in silence, the space between us no longer hostile—but it wasn't comfortable, either. The streets were quiet, the sun low, washing the academy district in amber light.
Thorne's home wasn't flashy. Modest, tucked into the quiet end of the district. A neat stone walkway led to the entrance, where a woman in a crisp uniform opened the door with a polite, if curious, expression.
"Ah, Master Ryn. And Kael?" Her gaze flicked between us. "Is everything alright?"
"We need to talk to Thorne," Ryn said, standing straighter.
She nodded. "Of course. One moment."
A few minutes later, Thorne stepped out. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of us together. "You two? Together? That's new."
I didn't waste time. "Did Jade speak to you recently?"
Thorne frowned. "Jade? That was months ago. He asked what happened after the warehouse incident. I told him."
The woman—Felicia, I think her name was—spoke up from behind him. "He seemed… fixated on loyalty. To the Zaren family. I didn't like the way he talked."
I nodded once. That was enough.
As we walked away, Ryn turned to me. "What really happened to Jade?"
I hesitated. The words weren't easy to say. "He's dead."
Ryn stopped in his tracks. "Did you…?"
"No," I said, more bitter than I meant to. "My mom did. To protect me."
His eyes went wide. "Your mom… she's a Deviant?"
I nodded. "Yeah. I didn't know until that night."
He whistled under his breath, shaking his head. "Your mom's a Deviant. Your dad was a knight. You're like… some kind of secret weapon wrapped in mystery."
I gave a dry laugh. "More like a curse, some days."
We kept walking until the path split, one way to my side of the district, the other to his.
Ryn stopped, and for once, didn't look like he was pretending to be anything. "Kael… I know I can't undo what I did. But I'm sorry. I really am."
I looked him over—really looked. I remembered the kicks, the sneers, the times he looked the other way when I needed someone to stand up for me. I remembered his fist hitting my ribs. I also remembered the way he stood in front of Nora after the match. And the way his voice cracked just now.
"You were a bully," I said. "Then you became a threat. And now you're… trying to be a friend?"
He gave a small, helpless shrug. "I don't know. Maybe I'm still figuring that out. But I do know one thing—I don't want to be your enemy anymore."
I was quiet for a long moment. The breeze rustled the trees. A bird sang, oblivious to the weight hanging between us.
"You'll have to earn that," I said finally.
"I will," Ryn replied, voice firm for once.
I stepped forward, lowering my voice. "Keep this quiet. About my mom. The attack. No one else can know."
Ryn nodded. "You have my word. Not a word from me."
We stood there, toeing the line between past and future. The silence wasn't angry anymore. It was fragile. Like glass—not broken, but it would take effort to keep it whole.
"See you tomorrow," I said.
Ryn smiled faintly. "Yeah. Tomorrow."
We turned and walked our separate paths—still different people, still carrying different shadows. But maybe… just maybe, no longer enemies.