Edge didn't make it to the solitude of his quarters. Waiting in the Drakescale common room were his friends—Talon, Min, and Jace clustered anxiously near the fireplace, their tournament attire still crisp despite the long day.
"There he is!" Jace called, spotting Edge first. "The champion returns!"
The excitement in his voice faded as he took in Edge's expression. The three exchanged glances, immediately sensing something was amiss.
"Your meeting with the Imperial Archmage," Talon said quietly. "It wasn't a simple congratulation."
Edge glanced around the common room. Several other students lounged in various corners, some casting curious looks in his direction. "Not here," he murmured.
Min nodded in understanding. "My room. Fewer ears, better wards."
The initiates' quarters were modest, but Min had somehow transformed hers into an efficient, personalized space. Strategic shelving maximized storage, while carefully placed talismans—Far Eastern in design—created subtle privacy enchantments. Edge had never asked how she'd acquired such advanced protective items, and she had never volunteered the information.
When the door closed behind them, Min activated the strongest of her wards with a practiced gesture. "Now we can speak freely. What happened?"
Edge sank onto the room's single chair while the others found places on cushions or the edge of the bed. The exhaustion he'd been fighting crashed over him in waves, but his friends deserved answers.
"The Empire knows about the Astral Blades," he said without preamble. "Not just as legends, but as real artifacts they're actively tracking."
He recounted the conversations with both Archmages, omitting only the most sensitive details. As he spoke, Talon's expression grew increasingly troubled, while Min's face settled into analytical focus, mentally cataloging each piece of information. Jace, initially wide-eyed with shock, gradually shifted to grim understanding.
"They've been monitoring your dreams through the focusing disk," Talon said when Edge finished, his voice tight with controlled anger. "That's a violation of the most sacred boundaries. In the Southern Isles, dream-watching without consent is punishable by exile."
"In the Empire, it's merely expedient," Min observed dryly. "But the implications are more concerning than the invasion itself. If they've monitored your dreams from the beginning, they knew about your connection to the Astral Blades before you did."
"Which means my admission to the Academy wasn't coincidence," Edge said, verbalizing the conclusion he'd been avoiding. "The testing mages who seemed so surprised by my results—"
"Might have been genuine in their reaction," Jace interrupted, "but someone higher up was looking for specific mana signatures. You weren't discovered, Edge. You were found."
The distinction hung heavily in the air. Edge had believed his Academy admission represented opportunity born from latent talent. Now it seemed more like recruitment into something he didn't fully understand.
"The Empire wants to use me to find the remaining Astral Blades," Edge said. "Valerian showed me a fragment. He claimed they've recovered several over centuries."
Talon leaned forward, intensity in his dark eyes. "Did he say which ones they've found?"
"No. Just that they have fragments."
"The blades were scattered deliberately after the Void Breach was sealed," Talon explained. "In my people's tradition, each was hidden in a location that resonated with its elemental affinity. The Fire Blade in a volcanic heart, the Water Blade in an abyssal trench, and so forth."
"Making them nearly impossible to recover," Min surmised.
"That was the intent. No single person was meant to possess multiple blades. The temptation to use their combined power would be too great."
Edge recalled his recurring dream—seven swords becoming one, the resulting weapon capable of either sealing or creating tears in reality. "What happens if all seven are brought together?"
Talon's expression darkened. "Our legends are unclear. Some say combining the blades creates a weapon that can reforge reality itself. Others warn it would tear the veil between worlds permanently, allowing what dwells beyond to enter freely."
"Cheerful options," Jace muttered.
"The Empire clearly believes the Blades are worth pursuing despite the risks," Min said. "The question is, what do they intend to do with them once found?"
Edge shook his head. "Valerian spoke of protection and security, but was vague about specifics. He mentioned a division called ARCA—Artifact Recovery and Containment Authority."
Min's eyebrows rose in recognition. "ARCA is real, though rarely acknowledged publicly. My family has had... interactions with them regarding certain ancestral relics."
This casual revelation reminded Edge how little he knew about Min's background. Like Lyra, she kept much of her history carefully guarded.
"Can they be trusted?" Edge asked directly.
"They're Imperial," Min replied, as if that explained everything. After a moment, she elaborated: "Their primary loyalty is to Empire stability, not individual welfare. They'll protect you as long as you're useful and compliant. The moment you become a liability..."
She left the implication hanging.
"So I'm trapped," Edge said, voicing the conclusion that had been forming since his conversation with Valerian. "If I cooperate, I become a tool for Imperial ambitions I don't fully understand. If I refuse, I'm a threat to be contained."
"There's always another path," Talon said quietly. "Though it may not be visible yet."
Jace, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly asked, "Where's Lyra? Shouldn't she be part of this discussion?"
The question hung awkwardly. Edge realized he hadn't seen Lyra since before his meeting with the Archmages. "I don't know. She warned me to be careful what I revealed before the meeting, but disappeared afterward."
"Convenient," Min murmured, though her tone suggested speculation rather than accusation.
"Lyra has her own agenda," Talon said carefully. "That doesn't necessarily make her an adversary."
Edge recalled Vex's parting warning about trusting allies. The thought that his small circle of friends might harbor hidden motives was deeply unsettling, yet he couldn't dismiss the possibility. Lyra's sudden interest in his development, Min's cryptic references to her family's Imperial "interactions," even Talon's extensive knowledge of the Astral Blades—all suggested backgrounds more complex than they'd initially shared.
"For now," Edge said, making a decision, "we proceed carefully. I'll attend these special training sessions and learn what I can about Imperial intentions. Knowledge is its own form of protection."
The others nodded in agreement, though concern remained evident in their expressions.
"One more thing," Edge added. "Vex asked specifically who knew about my connection to the Astral Blades. I mentioned you, Talon, since your cultural knowledge was already evident. And Librarian Moira, since she provided historical texts. But I omitted Lyra."
"Why?" Min asked, watching him carefully.
"Something in her warning suggested she has reasons to avoid Imperial attention on this matter. Until I understand those reasons, I thought it safer to exclude her."
Talon nodded approvingly. "Wise. Information is currency at the Academy. Spend it sparingly."
The conversation shifted to practical matters—how Edge should approach his specialized training, what he might learn about Imperial intentions, and how they could continue their own research without attracting unwanted attention. As they talked, Edge felt the weight of the day's events settling fully on his shoulders. His victory in the tournament, once the culmination of his Academy ambitions, now seemed merely the opening move in a much larger game.
Later that night, alone in his quarters, Edge examined Ravencrest's focusing disk with new wariness. The runes inscribed around its edge no longer appeared merely decorative or functional but invasive—a conduit through which his most private thoughts had been monitored.
He considered discarding it, but pragmatism prevailed. The disk genuinely helped stabilize his chaotic mana patterns, and abandoning it now would raise suspicion. Instead, he placed it inside a small wooden box—the one containing his sister's carved fox—and sealed the lid. The simple container wouldn't block magical monitoring entirely, but it might at least mute the disk's responsiveness during sleep.
As he settled into bed, Edge gazed out his window at the night sky above the Academy. Stars glittered coldly, reminding him unsettlingly of the malevolent lights from his Void dreams. Somewhere among those distant points, the boundary between worlds grew thin, and ancient powers stirred in response to patterns repeating after centuries of dormancy.
And somehow, against all probability, a farmer's son from Eastford had become entangled in their awakening.