The wind was quieter tonight.
Kaelen stood near the edge of the academy's northern terrace, where the stone ledge overlooked the moon-drenched city far below. Lights blinked in the harbor like tiny memories refusing to fade. The sigil on his palm burned faintly, reacting to something he couldn't yet name.
He hadn't slept well. Dreams had grown strange again—visions tangled in silver threads, a woman's voice whispering from behind the veil of the Tower.
He pressed his palm to the cold stone.
Not even silence felt safe anymore.
Footsteps padded softly behind him. He didn't need to turn to know it was Seraphine.
Her presence always stirred the glyph differently—like a chord vibrating in his bones.
"You missed the resonance reading again," she said. Her voice wasn't scolding, just... distant. "Professor Elair made a joke about sending a pigeon next time."
Kaelen let out a breath. "I've been... distracted."
"You've been hiding," she corrected gently.
He looked at her then. Seraphine's pale silver cloak fluttered in the wind, her hair pinned up loosely, strands escaping to frame her cheek. She met his eyes, but something in her expression was guarded tonight.
"Selene said you've been practicing at night." There it was—unspoken tension folded into the quiet.
Kaelen hesitated. "It's easier when no one's watching."
"Is that why you never asked me to help?"
"I didn't think you wanted to."
Seraphine flinched almost imperceptibly. Her eyes dropped to the ground for a moment before she crossed the distance between them, standing just beside him.
"I would've helped," she said. "I wanted to."
The glyph beneath his skin pulsed. Faintly, but alive.
He turned his head slowly toward her. "Why?"
She laughed softly, almost bitterly. "That's your question? After everything?"
Her hand brushed against his—their fingers so close now he could feel the static of unspoken words crackle in the air. "I don't know, Kaelen. Maybe I wanted to believe in something broken. Maybe I was just... tired of being the girl everyone assumed didn't feel anything."
He didn't know what to say to that.
So he stayed silent. Which, in that moment, hurt worse than speaking.
Seraphine exhaled, her voice low. "Selene doesn't hide what she feels about you. She doesn't try to—"
"Seraphine—" he started, but she held up her hand.
"I'm not asking you to pick. But I won't pretend anymore. Not when every time I turn around, you look at her like she's a dream you want to fall into."
Kaelen's chest tightened.
"I didn't ask for any of this," he murmured.
"I know," she said quietly. "Neither did I."
A pause stretched between them. Long enough to hear the gulls above the harbor. Long enough to feel the world narrowing down to a choice neither of them was ready to make.
Then she stepped away.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
He watched her leave, the echo of her presence lingering like perfume in the air. And for a long time after, Kaelen didn't move.
Down below, hidden behind the warded alcove near the eastern dormitory wall, a man waited in the shadows.
His robe bore no sigil. His hair was tied back, not a strand out of place, and a single crystal eye replaced where his left should have been.
Tower Envoy Eristan did not blink as he watched Kaelen move across the terrace.
Behind him, a scrying glyph floated faintly, flickering with lines of crimson ink etched in midair.
Veritas trace confirmed.
Subject: Kaelen Thorne.
Status: Unverified Pattern. Watch order extended.
The glyph shimmered once. Then dimmed.
Eristan tapped his gloved fingers against the stone, his expression unreadable.
"You're more than just a mistake," he murmured. "You're an echo."
He turned and vanished into the dark.
Elsewhere, the academy's quiet was broken only by the sound of Selene breathing fast.
She stood in the candle-lit library aisle, trying to calm her heartbeat. Her fingers clenched tightly around the spine of the ancient codex she hadn't actually come to read.
"Why are you here?"
The voice came sharp from behind.
Seraphine.
Selene turned, her silver-blue cloak still slipping off one shoulder, her hair slightly disheveled from the run across the courtyard. "I could ask you the same."
"I work here," Seraphine said coolly. "You just... show up when he does."
There it was again. The edge. The thing they'd been circling for weeks.
Selene's mouth tightened. "You think I'm following him?"
"I know you are."
Selene took a step closer, voice low. "So what? You're afraid I'll distract him?"
"I'm afraid you already have."
The air between them crackled. Not with magic—but something worse. Something heavier. Two hearts orbiting the same star too closely.
"I don't want to fight with you," Selene said finally.
"Then stop pretending like you don't see it," Seraphine replied.
There was pain in her voice. Real, raw, and unguarded.
"I see everything," Selene whispered.
They stood there for a moment. Not enemies. Not friends. Just two girls who were tired of pretending the world wasn't pulling them in opposite directions.
"I won't step back," Seraphine said at last.
"I wasn't asking you to."
Then, quietly, they both turned away.
And somewhere between them, something cracked open.
Back in his room, Kaelen sat alone, the window wide open to the night.
He didn't know what a normal life was supposed to feel like anymore.
His fingers traced the edges of the sigil again, and he closed his eyes. The glyph had changed again. Not in shape, but in weight. It felt... older. Like it had existed before him.
"You're remembering too fast," Mira had said yesterday.
But it wasn't remembering. It was something stranger. A knowing that lived in his bones before his thoughts caught up.
The candle on his desk flickered. And in the light, something moved.
He looked up—and saw the faint shimmer of a projection glyph forming above the parchment.
A raven made of blue flame settled atop his notes.
Kaelen blinked.
The glyph opened its beak. A voice—unmistakably Mira's—echoed from it:
"They're watching you now. And not just with orbs."
"If you want to survive this semester, don't go to the Alchemy Tower alone. Don't trust Lorien. And don't activate the second glyph layer without a seal."
"You've got two days. Then the pattern will trigger."
The raven blinked once. Then burst into embers and vanished.
Kaelen's breath caught.
Second glyph layer?
He hadn't even accessed the first fully yet. Not without pain.
His hands shook.
And somewhere deep within his core, the sigil throbbed again.
A low, quiet warning.
Atop the northernmost spire of the Academy, where only the crows lingered and wind howled through broken gargoyles, the Tower's envoy stepped into the ritual circle.
Another voice joined him. Female. Older. Cloaked in black.
"You found him."
"I found it," Eristan corrected.
"Veritas always remembers its name," she said. "He'll awaken soon."
"And when he does?"
"We bring him in."
"And if he resists?"
The woman's eyes glittered.
"Then we remind him what the Tower does to echoes who forget their place."