Arden Hayes didn't sleep. Not really. After dragging Jaxon back to the dorms, heart still pounding from the hunter's cold words join us, or be silenced, he'd collapsed onto his bed, staring at the ceiling until the clock ticked past 3:00 AM. Every creak of the floorboards, every shadow from the glowing hall clock, made him flinch. Lila had stayed behind to deal with the hunter, but she hadn't come back yet. Was she okay? Was anyone?
By 6:00 AM, he gave up. He pulled on his wrinkled uniform, glasses fogging as he splashed water on his face. The metronome on his desk sat quiet, but its presence felt heavy, a reminder of his fractures and the hunter's interest. Your power's wasted here. Arden clenched his jaw, shoving the thought away. He wasn't joining anyone, especially not creepy cloaked weirdos.
A soft knock broke his spiral. "Hayes, you up?" Lila's voice, tired but sharp.
He opened the door, relief hitting hard when he saw her standing there, ponytail messy but no worse for wear. "You're okay," he said, almost a question.
"Barely," Lila said, stepping inside and shutting the door. Her green eyes scanned the room like she expected trouble to pop out of the wardrobe. "That hunter was no rookie. Took everything I had to drive it off."
"Drive it off?" Arden frowned, leaning against his desk. "What'd you do?"
"Future glimpses, mostly," she said, rubbing her neck. "Saw its moves a second before they hit, dodged, threw some punches. It backed off when it realized I wasn't easy prey." She smirked, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You and Jaxon, though sloppy. Midnight sparring? Really?"
Arden's face heated. "It was Jaxon's idea. I just… needed to practice. After the pillar thing."
"Yeah, well, practice in daylight next time," Lila said, crossing her arms. "You're lucky I had a glimpse of you two playing hero. Hunters don't mess around, and that one was testing you."
"Testing me?" Arden's stomach twisted. "For what?"
"To see if you'd break or bite." Lila's voice dropped, serious now. "Your fractures are loud, Hayes. Every time you crack the weave, it's like ringing a bell. Rogues hear it, hunters, their masters, whoever's pulling strings. They want Weavers they can use. Or ones they can crush."
Arden swallowed hard. "It said join or be silenced. Like, dead silenced?"
"Probably," Lila said, blunt as ever. "Rogues don't like loose ends. You're a loose end with potential, which makes you a prize, or a problem."
"Awesome," Arden muttered, sinking onto his bed. "So I'm either a recruit or a target. No pressure."
Lila's smirk softened, just a fraction. "You're not alone, y'know. Jaxon took a hit for you. I ran in swinging. You've got people."
"Yeah," Arden said, managing a small grin. "Thanks for that, by the way."
"Don't get sappy," she said, waving him off. "Point is, you need to lock down those fractures. No more midnight stunts. Stick with Marrow's drills, listen to Mira's control talk, girl's got a point."
"Mira," Arden echoed, guilt creeping back. "She's still mad about the ball, isn't she?"
"Nah, she's just Mira," Lila said, heading for the door. "Go eat breakfast. Jaxon's probably whining about his bruise already."
Arden nodded, but as she left, her words stuck. You've got people. Maybe he did. But people couldn't stop hunters forever, not if he kept fracturing like a neon sign.
Breakfast in the dining hall was louder than usual, students buzzing about classes and rumors of a canceled field trip. Arden spotted Jaxon at their usual table, poking at a plate of eggs with a grimace. Mira sat across from him, sipping juice, her braid neat despite the early hour."
You look like death," Jaxon said as Arden slid in with a tray of toast and coffee.
"Thanks," Arden said, dry. "You're not exactly sunshine either."
"Blame your hunter friend," Jaxon said, rubbing his stomach. "Guy hits like a truck."
"Sorry," Arden said, wincing. "Didn't mean to drag you into that."
Jaxon shrugged, grinning. "Worth it for the story. Next time, we bring backup."
"There won't be a next time," Mira said, setting her glass down with a click. Her dark eyes locked on Arden, steady but not unkind. "You're reckless, Arden. You and Jaxon both."
"Hey, I'm charmingly reckless," Jaxon protested, leaning back. "Hayes is just… enthusiastic."
Mira ignored him, focusing on Arden. "Lila told me what happened. Hunters don't show up for no reason. Your fractures are pulling them in."
"I know," Arden said, poking at his toast. "I'm trying to fix it. Got ten seconds clean last night, before the creep showed up."
"Ten's good," Mira said, nodding slightly. "But clean doesn't mean safe. You're still pushing too hard. Time's not a muscle to flex, it's a thread to weave."
"Weave, not flex," Arden repeated, half-smiling. "You sound like a fortune cookie."
Mira's lips twitched, almost a smile. "Better than sounding like you, panicked and fracturing."
"Burn," Jaxon said, laughing. "She's got you there."
Arden rolled his eyes but felt a spark of warmth. Mira wasn't mad, just blunt, like Lila. Maybe she was right about guiding time instead of forcing it. He'd try, at least.
Class loomed after breakfast, and Arden trudged to Room 3-B with Jaxon and Mira. Professor Marrow was already there, scribbling equations on the shimmering chalkboard, something about temporal energy ratios. He didn't look up as they filed in, but his voice carried a familiar edge.
"Hayes, front row," Marrow said, still writing. "After yesterday, I want you where I can see you."
Arden's face burned as he shuffled forward, Jaxon whispering, "Busted," behind him. He sank into the seat, wishing he could disappear. The other students murmured, some curious, some smirking. Great. He was the fracture guy now.
Marrow turned, pinning Arden with a stare. "Fractures aren't mistakes, they're warnings. You've had two in public. A third could cost more than a pillar. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," Arden said, voice small. He didn't dare ask what 'more' meant, not with the whole class watching.
"Good." Marrow's gaze swept the room. "Today's lecture: temporal stability. How to weave without ripples. Pay attention, or you'll regret it."
Arden scribbled notes, Mira's advice echoing alongside Marrow's words. Guide it, don't push. He could do that. Had to do that. Because somewhere out there, a hunter was still listening, and Arden wasn't about to let them decide his choice.
As class droned on, he didn't see the faint shimmer outside the window, a cloaked figure, barely visible against the morning light, watching him write. Its device crackled, relaying a message to an unseen master: "He resists, but he's close. One more push."
The figure vanished, leaving only the hum of the courtyard pillars, and the ticking of time.