When I arrive, they’re already there. All of them.
Holly’s jaw tight, eyes snapping up to me. Cleo on the desk, fingers drumming, already calculating how to fix what I’m going to tell them. Tabby sprawled across my bed, hair wild, grin teasing, like she thinks drama is a party. Sly and Brix hover in the doorway, awkward, guilty.
My chest constricts at the sight. All of them. Here. For me.
“They’re coming tomorrow,” I whisper. “The Councilors. It’s time for the test.”
The room goes still.
I take a shaky breath. “Before you say anything, I want to thank you. For everything. For the ridiculous plans, the laughter, the help, even if it all feels… meaningless. I came to this academy expecting to be treated like a plague. I never expected to find people—five people—who would become my best friends. People who would let a sinless, worthless girl into the fold.”
Holly crosses the room before I can finish and grabs my shoulders, her hands solid and grounding.
“Stop. Enough. Quit talking like that. Do you really think we’d help if we thought you were worthless? Honestly, Arwen, the most frustrating thing about you is this belief. I wouldn’t be surprised if that core belief has been holding you back this entire time. Never once have you been worthless. There is more to a person than just their power, but you act like it’s the only thing that defines you."
I'm stunned into silence as she shakes her head and continues. "Tell me, would you still be my friend if I lost my powers?”
“Of…Of course!” I say thrown off guard at this turn in conversation. “But that’s totally…”
Cleo steps down from the desk, tugging my sleeve. “No ‘buts’ Arwen. You are worthy. Fierce. Loyal. Smart. A great friend. You care about people, and you’ve never let us down.”
“You are also an amazing warrior,” Holly jumps back in. “Even if it’s because you had the most badass mentor.” Everyone laughs.
Tabby flicks my hair, playful, but her eyes are steady. “You think losing powers would lose me? I like you for everything else. Your sarcasm, your stubbornness, your legs… the total package.”
Sly smirks. “You get back up after being knocked down. Every time. That’s more than many people manage.”
Holly’s voice rises, commanding and tender at once. “You are a fucking force. You deserve to be here because of your tenacity, not a power score. You make people better. That’s why you belong.”
Brix steps forward, quiet, almost hesitant. “You’re not nothing. Not to me. Not ever.”
I press into them, into the warmth as they stand up and rally around me in hugs and whispers of motivation. The words land with a force I didn’t expect. There’s pressure behind them that feels like a lighthouse in a storm. I press into their arms as the knot in my chest loosens.
Tears slip free, not sharp, not bitter, but wet and warm. It doesn’t feel like a betrayal to my faction to cry. It feels strong, like I’m owning my emotions. I feel the truth pressing in from every side. Their voices—they’re all louder than any Councilor’s judgment.
Every whispered, shout, clipped affirmation builds like pillars in my chest. My worth is not a number on a test. Not a power manifested or denied. It’s every night spent studying, every time I asked for help, every laugh, every small act that mattered.
The truth unfolds slowly, roots growing through rock. Not sudden confidence. Not a flash. But steady. Real. Persistent.
I whisper, almost to myself: “You all… You feel this way?”
Cleo’s smile is peaceful and steady. “We know it.”
Holly grins, teeth flashing, fire in her eyes. “We chose you. Repeatedly. You belong, Arwen Davies. Not because of a sin, but because of you. Because you stand. You fight. You make the world better just by being in it. I know you see it. I’ve watched your confidence in yourself grow every day. You just need to realize it’s okay to admit it, and to love yourself for who you are.”
The laugh that escapes me is small, wet, and real. Tears sting. They pile onto me like a heap of people who won’t let go. In the press of it, I realized my measuring stick all these years was wrong. My worth isn’t about powers or lineage or even what the Council decrees. It’s about care. Love. Impact. Presence.. Those things can’t be quantified on a test.
An idea clicks in my head. The hardest person to convince of my worth has been myself. If I could break through that, maybe I can break through the council’s assumptions as well.
And if I wake up tomorrow and the universe still insists I’m nothing? Then I’ll be nothing with people who still think I’m something.
38
Thou Shalt Not Silence Fire
Arwen
Isit cross-legged in my courtyard for potentially the last time. Sunlight warms the edges of my shoulders, but the weight in my chest makes it hard to notice. Atticus is beside me, leaning back on his hands, eyes focused, deep in his thoughts.
