Alyra froze in the doorway.

  Instructor Claudine never called anyone to her office without a reason, and never with that much urgency. Her pulse hammered, each thud whispering that she was in trouble.

  She had only returned from Ebonshade the night before. Her body begged for rest, for silence. Not another round beneath Claudine’s icy stare.

  And certainly not questions about Derek. The Death energy coiled in her chakras was something she could manage, something she could hide.

  Unless that was exactly why she had been summoned.

  No. Impossible. Derek wouldn’t have let her walk back in if he thought she would be exposed.

  Still… her legs itched to run.

  Calm. Walk in. Look normal.

  She filled her lungs, rapped the door with her knuckles, and pushed it open.

  “Come in,” said a voice cold enough to frost glass.

  The hinges gave a low creak.

  Morning light slanted through a tall, narrow window, cutting across the floor to strike the exact spot in front of the desk, right where she had to sit.

  The room was precision made solid. Iron-gray walls lined with shelves of dark, leather-bound volumes, every spine in perfect alignment. Behind the desk, a training sword hung upright in its mount, steel gleaming beneath old battle scars.

  The desk itself, dark oak polished to a mirror sheen, held only a silver pen, an inkwell, and a neat stack of files. The air carried a faint blend of paper dust and oiled metal.

  Alyra stepped forward as if into a bear’s den. Each step on the bare floor rang out like a hammer strike.

  Claudine didn’t smile. Didn’t nod. “Sit.”

  Alyra’s throat tightened as she lowered herself onto the wooden chair.

  “How are you?” Claudine asked, the words shaped more like an interrogation than genuine concern.

  “Fine, ma’am.”

  A curt nod. “You weren’t in the training hall this morning. I assumed you were injured.”

  Seriously? Back to training already? Every muscle in her body screamed. Yes, even her face. “I’m just tired. I thought I’d rest before returning. I don’t want to slow the others down.”

  One eyebrow arched. Claudine dragged a sheet of paper closer and wrote in quick, precise strokes. “So you’re not fine.”

  Alyra held back a sigh. “No, ma’am. But I’ll be fine tomorrow. I’ll be back.”

  The pen clicked against the desk as Claudine set it down. Her eyes fixed on Alyra again. “Good.”

  Silence thickened between them, pressing down as Claudine kept staring.

  Alyra’s throat felt wrapped in wool. Was this it? Was she just going to be dismissed? She shifted in her seat. “Instructor, if there’s nothing else—”

  “I apologize,” Claudine said.

  The words hit like a slap. Alyra blinked. “…I’m sorry?”

  “I said…” A muscle twitched beneath Claudine’s eye. “I apologize.”

  Alyra stared. Claudine didn’t apologize. Not to anyone. And now… to her?

  If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  The woman’s lips twitched into a brief grimace before flattening again. “What happened to you here, under my supervision, is inexcusable. Both I and Mother Ivonette offer you our sincerest apologies.”

  Mother Ivonette? The head of the academy? Alyra had never met her, but the whispers painted her as someone powerful, her influence reaching far beyond these walls. “T-thank you. But you don’t have to—it wasn’t your fault.”

  Claudine drew a steady breath. “Everything that happens to our students is our responsibility while you are here.”

  The words slipped out before Alyra could stop them. “Is this about Derek? I mean… the Cashnar? Are you apologizing for what he said when he came here?”

  A shadow of a frown crossed Claudine’s face. “Not at all. Do you see that man here with us?”

  Heat rushed to Alyra’s cheeks. “No, ma’am.”

  “If I had an apology for him, he would be sitting in that chair, not you. My only responsibility is to this academy and its students.”

  Alyra lowered her head. “Understood. Sorry for asking.”

  Claudine studied her in silence, then cleared her throat. “I’m aware of your current… situation.”

  Ice slid through her veins. Was she talking about the Death energy? How could she have found out so quickly? “Really?” The word barely left her lips.

  “What happened to your home,” Claudine went on, “and the fact that Warden Isabelle, and even the Cashnar, spoke for you. It may have caused… tension with your classmates.”

  Naresh. She was only talking about her old village. Of course she was. If Alyra didn’t calm down, she’d end up exposing herself like a fool.

  Naturally, someone like Claudine would have dug into her past. And yes… the others knowing she was an orphan hadn’t made things easier. “I’m still trying to fit in.”

  “I’ve seen you training hard, even outside regular hours.”

  Heat rose in her cheeks. “Tanya’s been training with me after hours.”

  A sharp look. “Tanya is a Thorn. Two full levels above you, and far more physically capable. An interesting choice. How is that working out?”

  No chance she was admitting Tanya tossed her around like a rag doll. “Good. She’s been very generous with her time.”

  “I see.” Claudine lifted another sheet and scanned it.

  Alyra straightened in her seat. She only wanted to leave this icebox of a room, but Claudine wasn’t finished.

  “Isabelle was here late last night,” the instructor said, eyes still on the page. “You were already asleep. She stopped in Ebonshade with Garath to take readings and gather a preliminary death count. The situation there was… complicated.”

  Alyra’s throat rasped dry. What had Isabelle told her? Surely not about the Death energy. She bit her lip hard.

  “She reported heavy contamination from three spheres. One of them, it seems, was a…” Claudine looked up. “…Death sphere.”

  Her pulse spiked. The chair groaned beneath her. Why was Claudine telling her this? She was just a novice. There was no reason to share something like that, unless she suspected. Could she actually know?

  Claudine’s eyes narrowed. “I honestly don’t know how a little Sprout like you managed to survive something that extreme. The only other survivors were a handful of half-starved children hiding in a blacksmith’s forge. And it doesn’t seem the blacksmith himself made it out alive.”

  The thought of Markus—and the way that good man had died—tightened her throat. Crying in front of Instructor Claudine was not an option. She forced the lump down, shoving the tears back with it. “It was awful. But I wasn’t alone. Isab—Warden Isabelle was with me. And she had Tunga and the Cashnar with her.”

  Claudine nodded slowly. “They must care for you a great deal. To go all that way and face that hell, just to save you. Makes me wonder if there’s a reason… something I don’t know about.”

  Her heart hammered. If Claudine started digging, even for the wrong reasons, she would eventually uncover something. And yes, there was something to hide—but not why Derek and Isabelle had saved her. “They… like me.” The words came out in a whisper. “I don’t know why. But I think they just… do.”

  She didn’t know if it was true. She wanted it to be true. But right now, she needed a lie.

  And it was a beautiful one.

  Claudine gave another short nod. “Naturally. The Messiah of Steel himself, and the Warden of Narkhara—chosen by Uriela Valen—care about you. Enough to risk their lives.”

  Alyra frowned. That tone had something in it that scraped at her, though she couldn’t place what. One thing was clear: Claudine hadn’t believed her for a second. And what else could she say? She wasn’t special. She had never been special.

  Claudine’s eyes stayed flat, unreadable. “Listen carefully. I don’t like not knowing things about my students. I have no interest in politics or the Church’s high ranks. But if I and the other instructors are to be responsible for your training, we need to know everything we can about you. Especially if it involves the spheres of Orbisar.” She leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “And even more so if it involves the Death spheres.”

  The words poured down her spine like a bucket of ice water. Shivers cascaded through her. Alyra pressed her lips into a thin line, locking her fingers together in her lap. “I haven’t…” Her voice rasped, and she forced it steady. “I haven’t had any contact with sphere magic. I was in the forge with the other kids. The blacksmith protected us, and in the end… he gave his life to save us.”

  The memory of that gentle giant, and the brutal way he had died, stabbed through her like a blade. Two tears broke free, sliding down her cheeks before she could stop them. She wiped them away, but more followed. “S-sorry, Instructor.” A hard sniff rattled out of her.

  Claudine studied her in silence for a long moment, then sighed and waved her off. “You may go. I’ll see you in the training hall tomorrow morning.”

  Alyra gave a half-bow and rose quickly from the chair. Hand over her mouth, she opened the door and slipped out, shutting it behind her.

  The moment she was outside, her hand dropped and the sobs tore free, sharp and fast, as if everything she had bottled up in Ebonshade had chosen this exact instant to erupt.

  And she didn’t want to hold it in anymore.

  A louder sob shook her, and she sank down with her back against the wall, arms wrapped tight around her knees. Once the cork had been pulled, the flood refused to stop. She let it surge, sweeping away not only Ebonshade but also her grandmother, her village, her parents… she hadn’t truly cried for them. Not until now.

  “Hey, are you all right?” a girl’s voice called.

  Alyra scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. Who—?

  A young woman stood a few steps away, honey-blonde hair tied into a neat braid, bright blue eyes fixed on her. Sunlight from the tall windows painted her fair face in warm gold.

  Alyra scrambled to her feet, swiping her cheeks with both hands. “Mirelle… hey. Sorry, I didn’t see you.”

  The girl’s brows rose with concern. “Something happen with Instructor Claudine?” She tilted her head toward the office door. “Did she scold you?”

  Alyra shook her head. “N-no, nothing like that. I just… had to tell her what happened, and, well… that wasn’t easy.”

  Mirelle stepped closer and rested a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through. Taken by heretics and dragged into that nightmare. They say Ebonshade’s basically gone. It’s a miracle you survived.”

  Alyra pulled a face. “That’s what the instructor said too. Maybe it’s true. Maybe Orbisar didn’t want me to die.”

  Mirelle nodded, a gentle smile on her lips.

  She was always kind. But she was also deeply devout, so Alyra had to tread carefully whenever she spoke Orbisar’s name or mentioned the Church.

  “Maybe Orbisar has a purpose for you,” Mirelle said, still smiling. “And He won’t let anything happen to you until you’ve fulfilled it. It’s no coincidence the Cashnar himself cares for you.”

  Alyra forced a smile in return. Why did no one ever think they might just… like her? “Sure… maybe you’re right. I should head to my quarters.”

  “You’re not coming to training?”

  She shook her head. “Not today. I’m not ready yet. I’ll start tomorrow.” She gave a small wave and turned down the corridor.

  She wished she could disappear for a month, but all she had was until tomorrow. She would have to make do.

  Maybe coming back here was never going to be easy.

  And maybe, deep down, she would never truly be safe.