Page 49

The next group of aspirants are waiting in the central courtyard when I arrive, a group of twenty waters fresh from the elemental trial. They huddle together beneath the shadow of the water tower, eyes wide as they take in the massive structure with its perpetual waterfall cascading up its sides, defying gravity and common sense.

"Waters," I call, my voice carrying across the stone courtyard with the authority that seems to come naturally, even after just one year here. "Form a line."

They scramble to obey, arranging themselves in a ragged formation as I approach. Their uniforms are new and pristine, not yet marked by training or battle. Some bear visible signs of the trial—minor burns, scrapes, haunted eyes that have seen death up close for the first time.

"My name is Nessa Thorne," I tell them, pacing slowly before their line. "I'll be showing you to your quarters and explaining the basic protocols of the water tower. You'll receive your training schedules tomorrow morning."

A ripple of whispers passes through their ranks as they recognize my name. I ignore it, continuing my instructions about meal times and curfews, until a tall boy with sandy hair interrupts.

"Is it true?" he blurts out, immediately flushing when all eyes turn to him. "About your elemental? That it's an ancient dragon?"

I keep my expression neutral even as Typhon's amusement bubbles through our tether. We’ve been going through this routine all day, and it was already old the first time. "What's your name, aspirant?"

"Tavish," he says, straightening his shoulders in an attempt to look confident. "Tavish Melwood."

"Well, Tavish Melwood," I say, stepping closer until he has to tilt his head back slightly to maintain eye contact, "at Confluence, it's generally considered poor form to interrupt your superiors. As for Typhon..." I allow a small smile. "Usually, the only people who get to see his true form are about to get eaten. So he could show you, but it would be the last thing you ever see.”

I resume my pacing, but another voice breaks the silence.

"We made it through the trial," a petite girl with dark braids says, her tone a bit too smug for my liking. "That means we're safe, right? Until Confluence Day, at least."

My laugh is sharp and without humor. "Safe?" I stop directly in front of her, noting how she shrinks back slightly. "Nobody at Confluence is ever safe. Nobody. The sooner you understand that, the better your chances of surviving until Confluence Day.”

Her face pales, and I almost feel bad for the harshness of my response. Almost.

"Follow me," I say, turning toward the water tower's entrance.

Inside the water tower, the temperature drops noticeably, a perpetual cool mist hanging in the air. The new aspirants gasp as they enter the central atrium with its spiraling staircases that seem to float without support. Water flows up the walls and across the ceiling in complex patterns, forming and re-forming into beautiful shapes.

"Second-years and above occupy the fourth through sixth floors," I explain, directing them toward the third level. "You'll be on the third floor for your first year. Males on the east side, females on the west.

After settling the final group of aspirants into their quarters, I have an hour before I'm expected at my next assignment. I make my way back to my own room on the fifth floor, looking forward to a moment of peace before dinner.

The moment I open my door, I know something is wrong.

My room appears untouched—bed made, books stacked neatly on my desk, the small potted plant Mireen gave me still thriving on the windowsill. But the air feels disturbed, as if someone has recently been here.

Typhon materializes in his dragon form. He can’t expand to his full size in the cramped room, but he still towers impressively, blue wings half raised as his long, serpentine neck extends, head swiveling and nostrils huffing with quick inhales. " Someone was here, " he confirms. " Recently. "

Adrenaline spiking, I move deeper into my room with caution, following his gaze to a small object placed at the center of my pillow. A pendant on a silver chain, the metal worked into a spiral pattern that exactly matches my hidden mark.

Beside it lies a folded piece of parchment. With trembling fingers, I unfold it to reveal an elegant script:

When you're ready to understand your true nature and potential, wear this. We will find you. -L&M

"Impossible," I breathe, even as my pulse races. "They can't have been here. Not inside Confluence."

Instinctively, I pull fire from the heat in the air and incinerate the parchment in a quick rush of flame. If anyone saw this in my room…

" They have allies within these walls, " Typhon says grimly. " We've always suspected as much. "

I pick up the pendant, and the moment my fingers touch the metal, my disguised water mark flickers, revealing the silver spiral beneath for one terrifying second before the illusion reasserts itself. The pendant pulses with a subtle magic that calls to something deep inside me.

"What should I do with it?" I ask, fighting the peculiar urge to slip the chain around my neck.

Typhon's eyes narrow. " Destroy it. Or at the very least, hide it where even you cannot easily reach it. "

I know he's right. The pendant is dangerous—a direct link to Lorkan and Milena Grace. A reminder that they're watching, waiting for me to come to them. And yet...

I tuck it into the small box where I keep my most private possessions, unable to bring myself to destroy it. Not yet. Not when it might be the only clue to understanding what I truly am. Not when there’s still doubts swirling in my mind about where my allegiances should lie.

"This changes nothing," I tell Typhon, trying to convince myself as much as him. "I made my choice. I'm staying here."

He doesn't answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He can feel my own doubt and how hollow the words ring to my own ears.

I see movement from my window. A group of second-year legacies is striding into the courtyard, parting the sea of offerings still being gathered and prepared to face their elemental trial.

My heart leaps before I can stop it—a reflexive response to what I already sense through our tether.

Raith is back.

After months of nothing but ghostly emotional impressions, he's close enough that I can feel the pull of his essence, warm and vital through our connection. With it comes a tangle of emotions so complex I can't begin to unravel them.

Relief. Wariness. Longing. And beneath it all, a current of doubt that wasn't there before.

"You'll see for yourself that the Aurenciels cannot be trusted—that their hatred of our kind runs through their very blood." Lorkan's words echo in my memory, unwelcome but impossible to ignore.

I lift my window for a better view, using a touch of essence to shift the water always running down the exterior of our tower out of the way. Their legacy uniforms gleam silver and gold in the afternoon sun.

And there he is.

Even from this distance, Raith is unmistakable—tallest of the group, his powerful frame moving with fluid grace despite obvious exhaustion. His dark hair is longer now, tied back from his face. The scarring on the left side of his face, once so prominent, has faded to a subtle pattern of lighter skin since I healed him after the siphon attack that nearly killed him.

Students part before him, some ducking their heads in deference, others watching with undisguised curiosity. The Aurenciel heir. The last prince of the Red Kingdom, hidden in plain sight within Empire's most elite academy. It’s a secret only he and I share. A secret that still threatens to destroy the beautiful connection we formed before I knew who he really was.

As if sensing my gaze, he pauses, head tilting back to look directly up at my window. Our eyes meet across the distance, the tether between us humming with recognition.

For one breathless moment, I feel everything he feels—the weight of secrets too heavy to carry alone, the desperate need to explain, to be understood. To be trusted.

Neither of us moves. The distance between us feels both infinite and meaningless, physical space nothing compared to the gulf created by revelation and doubt.

Beneath my bed, hidden in its box, I think of the pendant from Lorkan and Milena, along with its promise to let them find me when I’m ready.

If I’m ready.

Two paths. Two possible futures. And I'm standing at the crossroads, uncertain which way to turn.

Raith's hand twitches at his side, as if he might raise it in acknowledgment. Instead, he turns away, following the other legacies into the main hall.

I should feel relieved. I'm not ready to face him—to demand explanations about his family's history with the unbound, to ask him directly if Lorkan's accusations hold any truth. But instead, watching him walk away sends a pang of loss so sharp it feels like physical pain.

I turn from the window, my hand falling to my side. Behind me, Typhon watches with ancient eyes that have seen civilizations rise and fall, hearts break and mend.

" Whatever you decide, " he says quietly, " know that I am with you. "

A small comfort, but one I cling to as I prepare to face the second year at Confluence Academy—a year that promises to be no less dangerous than the first, perhaps even more so.

Because now the threats come not just from outside, but from within. And the most dangerous enemy may be the one I've tethered to my own heart.