The morning sun spilled through the arched windows of the academy's library, painting golden stripes across the worn wooden tables. Cedric sat with an open book before him, but his eyes weren't scanning the pages. Instead, they were fixed on the distant horizon, his mind churning like a storm.
Who sent the assassins?
His first suspicion had been Victor—hot-headed, arrogant, and nursing a grudge ever since Cedric had humiliated him in the last sparring session. But the more he thought about it, the less it made sense. Victor was a coward at heart, all bark and no bite. He wouldn't dare hire assassins, not when he could barely hold his own in a fair fight.
A sudden movement behind him.
Instincts flared. Cedric's hand snapped up, catching a wrist before it could clap down on his shoulder. He twisted, half-rising from his seat, dark energy already coiling around his fingers—
"Easy there, killer," came a familiar, amused voice.
Cedric relaxed. Kyle Blackwood.
The lean, dark-haired noble grinned, unfazed by the near-violent reaction. His sharp green eyes glinted with mischief, as always. "You're jumpy today. Nightmares?"
Cedric exhaled, releasing his grip. "Something like that."
Kyle dropped into the seat beside him, stretching his legs out lazily. "You look like you haven't slept. What's eating you?"
For a moment, Cedric hesitated. He and Kyle had grown close over the past few months—closer than he'd expected, given the usual noble disdain for an orphan-turned-attendant. But there was something different about Kyle. He didn't care about status. He cared about results.
And right now, Cedric needed answers.
"Someone tried to kill me last night," he said quietly.
Kyle's smirk vanished. His posture shifted, the lazy amusement replaced by something sharper. "Explain."
Cedric did. The ambush in the training yard. The assassins' fluid, silent movements. The way they fought—like shadows given form. And then, almost as an afterthought, he mentioned the single black feather he'd found lodged in the dirt where one of them had fallen.
Kyle went very, very still.
"Black owl feather?" he repeated, voice low.
Cedric nodded. "Yeah. Why? Does that mean something?"
Kyle's gaze darted around the library. Then, without warning, he grabbed Cedric's arm and hauled him up. "We need to talk. Now."
The Black Feather Society
Kyle didn't stop until they were deep in the academy's abandoned east wing, a place where the walls were cracked and the air smelled of dust and old magic. He checked the corridors twice before barring the door behind them.
Cedric crossed his arms. "Dramatic much?"
Kyle shot him a look. "You have no idea what you've stumbled into."
"Then enlighten me."
Kyle exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "The Black Owls aren't just assassins. They're ghosts. A secret society that's been operating in the shadows for centuries. They don't leave traces. No bodies. No witnesses. If you find a black feather, it's because they wanted you to find it."
Cedric's skin prickled. "Why?"
"Because they mark their targets," Kyle said grimly. "A black feather means you're on their list. And they don't stop until the job is done."
A cold weight settled in Cedric's stomach. "Who are they?"
"That's the problem. No one knows." Kyle paced, his boots scuffing against the stone floor. "The Blackwood family has been investigating them under the Emperor's orders for years. All we've pieced together is their hierarchy."
He held up three fingers.
"Silver Masks—low-level enforcers. Skilled, but disposable. Gold Masks—elite killers, each responsible for major operations. And above them, Platinum Masks—commanders who answer only to their leader, whose face no one has ever seen."
Cedric frowned. "And the feather?"
"A signature. Their way of claiming responsibility without leaving evidence." Kyle's jaw tightened. "But here's what doesn't make sense. The Black Owls don't take contracts lightly. They're expensive. Extremely expensive. And they don't waste their time on random academy students."
A beat of silence.
"Unless," Kyle added slowly, "you're not just a random student to them."
Cedric's mind raced. His five cores. His unknown past. The Leonheart family's secrets.
What do they know that I don't?
Kyle studied him, then sighed. "Look, I don't know why they're after you. But if they've marked you, this won't be the last attempt."
Cedric smirked, though it lacked its usual edge. "Guess I'll have to get better at dodging knives."
Kyle didn't laugh. "This isn't a joke. These people don't fail. And they don't leave loose ends." He hesitated, then lowered his voice. "But if you're willing to trust me… I might be able to help."
Cedric raised an eyebrow. "Why would you?"
Kyle's grin returned, though it was darker now. "Because I hate mysteries. And the Black Owls? They're the biggest one of all."