Rain fell on Arcanis Academy like a divine warning.
It painted the marble walkways silver and capered on the magical torches with agitated flame. Storm clouds heaped above the towers, and every one of the students that marched down the corridors was more subdued—quiet, as if the wind itself was listening.
Elira stood under the stone archway of the eastern courtyard, watching the shadows gather at the main gate. Her hand on the edge of her cloak clenched.
He was arriving today.
The Council's Observer. The one who had once ordered the death of Kael's family. Archon Selvarien.
She felt Kael before she saw him.
A soft tremble of tension along the bond—inky darkness filled with strain. He materialized beside her without a word, his cloak fluttering behind him like a dark shadow. His teeth were clenched and his silver eyes burned with suppressed rage.
"They're doting on him like he's royalty," Kael snarled.
Elira shifted her gaze to see where he looked.
A black carriage pulled by drakes with obsidian scales was moving towards the gate of the academy. Five guards in robes with silver trimming surrounded it, and their spears pulsed with runes of suppression.
And then—he emerged.
Archon Selvarien.
He didn't seem like a man who'd earned a reputation for blood and cold justice. His hair was pale gold, slicked back to reveal a sharp, elegant face unlined by time. He wore a deep crimson cloak over robes of midnight blue, and his face was unreadable—calm, composed, deadly.
Students around him whispered nervously.
"Is that really him?"
"They say he killed three Highmages in one duel."
"He's one of the Left Hands of the Council—judgment incarnate."
Elira and Selvarien's eyes met.
For a moment only.
And she sensed it. That abhorrent, knowing presence.
As if he were looking into her soul and weighing her on a scale of a thousand unfathomed transgressions.
Kael stepped between them and the man by a pace or so.
Selvarien's mouth curved upward slightly into a half-smile.
He went away, following with his retainers to the tower of the Headmistress.
But the storm had not left him.
---
Much later that night, Elira and Kael were summoned.
Not requested. Not invited.
Summoned.
They came into the obsidian room beneath the central spire—a room unused in over ten years. Unwarm stone. No windows. Wards the thickness of walls.
Selvarien was standing at the room's center, among four elderly professors.
Elira walked in, her heartbeat thudding. Kael's hand touched hers for a moment—a mute reassurance.
"Miss Thorne. Lord Valen." Selvarien's voice was like ice through silk. "Sit."
They obeyed.
"I've reviewed the reports," he said without preamble. "I've seen the incident records. The duel. The uncontrolled surge. The forbidden bond."
Elira stiffened. "It wasn't forbidden when it happened."
"Magic doesn't care about timing," Selvarien replied smoothly. "It cares about power. About balance."
He walked slowly around the table, his fingers grazing the back of Elira's chair.
"You are Aetherion," he murmured. "And you…" He turned to Kael. "The last child of the Void Kingdom. Two broken dynasties joined by a bond older than this academy itself."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Get to the point."
Selvarien smiled faintly. "The point is this—your existence threatens the balance. The Void and Light were never meant to merge. You're a paradox. A prophecy no one wants fulfilled."
Elira found her voice. "Then why not just cast us out?"
Selvarien stopped in his step.
"Because I'm curious."
The one word sent shivers down her spine more intensely than any threat could.
"I want to see what occurs when fire meets shadows. When the line lost ascends," he continued. "So I won't get in the way. Not yet. But as of now, you obey me."
He raised a ring of silver, etched with council sigils. It glowed with light as he spoke.
"Any abuse of magic. Any emotional instability. Any indication of prophecy alignment—and I will seal your bond."
Elira's breath hitched.
Kael rose slowly, power billowing off him like smoke. "Touch her bond, and I will burn this academy to ashes before you lay a foot on it."
Selvarien didn't blink. "Try."
A tension hung between them—thick, perilous.
Then Selvarien turned his back and departed.
---
Later, in their secret chamber, Elira paced like a trapped flame.
"He's going to come up with a reason," she growled. "He wants to get us when we slip up. He's not interested—he's stalking us."
Kael stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed. "He'll have to be faster."
"He's way stronger than he looks. I could see it. He can break me with a thought like a twig."
"No," Kael asserted. "He can try it. But you're not that newbie girl of the first week anymore."
Elira stepped back, her heart shifting from hard to soft. "And what if I mess up again? What if I burn something—or someone?"
"Then we problem-solve," Kael said. "Together."
Her eyes shot up to his face. Shadows did nothing to dim the fierce look of his eyes.
She took a step closer to him, the bond singing like a heartbeat between them. Her hand wrapped around his.
"You're not afraid of him?
Kael hesitated. "I was. Once. When I was a child, and he loomed over my mother with a blade of judgment. But flame comes of fear. And I've had enough flame to burn through lifetimes."
He leaned in, their foreheads touching.
"We were born to shattered legacies, Elira," he whispered, "but I will not let them write our conclusion."
---.
Attended lectures without warning. Watched duels from the upper balcony. Materialized in the library without a sound.
Elira trained more assiduously than ever before. With Kael's help, she learned how to create radiant blades of light, summoning shields strong enough to deflect void, and even slowing time in tiny bubbles—a matter of seconds to dodge or flee.
Their bond grew stronger. She felt his emotions more intensely now—pungent jets of protection, sudden jolts of longing, the shadows that sometimes engulfed his mind.
She did not withdraw.
Rather, she let him feel her warmth too.
---
And on the seventh night since Selvarien's coming, the attack.
Elira woke to alarms.
Red magic flared before her window as the wards on the academy pulsed into alarm. She sprang from bed and snatched up her cloak, racing out into the hall just as a student shrieked below.
Kael was on his way to her.
"Beasts," he said. "Void-born. Inside the walls."
They raced down the hall, their bond making them one moving unit.
In the dueling grounds, chaos broke out. Two grotesque creatures, twisted abominations of bone and black ichor, had torn through the outer fences. Students battled with hesitant spells. Professors roared orders. The sky burned with bursts of energy.
Selvarien stood calm in the midst, slaying one creature with a single, merciless spell. His eyes locked onto Elira—and for a moment, she was sure he smiled.
He knew.
But this was not about him.
Elira ran towards the second beast. Kael followed close behind, unleashing a blast of void magic to shield her.
Elira leaped, calling upon her light.
It burst forth like a rising sun.
She cut the beast across the chest with a beam of pure light. It roared, stumbling.
Kael charged in from the flank, shadows lashing around its legs. The beast shrieked as the two magics engulfed it.
And then—Elira gave it everything she had in one, final strike.
The arena glowed with light.
When the dust had cleared, the monster was nowhere to be found. Only its echo lingered, branded in the earth.
The students stared.
At her.
And for the first time—not with scorn.
With awe.