“Morning,” Ezzy smiles at someone as we pass more and more cadets in identical black uniforms. The flow thickens as we descend the main stairwell, knots of quiet conversation, their voices low and controlled.
A few eyes flick toward me as we turn and take a side corridor, but none linger. Still, my hand hovers near the dagger Ezzy gave me—just in case. It shouldn’t comfort me, not when people like Talen can strip it away without blinking. But somehow, it does.
Anyway, today, I’m not looking to make a scene. I’m just looking to make it through the lectures without anyone else trying to kill me. Plus, if I can get Ezzy, and her friends, to like me just enough to keep me around? Even better.
“There, Rowan, Finn!” Ezzy calls as we step through large open doors into a wide lecture theatre.
Cool air hits my face, edged with the smell of old wood and ink. Tiered benches climb in neat rows, all angled toward a single iron lectern on a raised platform at the front. Behind us, more cadets file in, voices low, boots echoing on stone as they spread out to find seats.
I follow Ezzy’s gaze to a bench three rows up, left side. Finn’s sprawled across half the space like he owns it, and beside him, Rowan. Nose buried in a book, completely unbothered.
“Come on, we’ll sit with them!” She grabs my wrist, tugging me forward.
I hesitate for a second, then remind myself—the promise, the plan, and that in places like this, you don’t survive by sitting alone. So I lock my jaw and go.
But as we reach the bench, I still clock the layout: Rowan, Finn, two empty seats. I hang back half a breath, just enough for Ezzy to slide into the inner spot without thinking. The aisle seat’s mine. Nearest the exit. Just in case.
A jarring snap echoes through the air just as I drop into my seat. I glance over, Finn’s leaning across Ezzy, cracking his knuckles, eyes locked on me.
“Didn’t think you’d survive the night,Outerlander.” He jokes, loud enough to turn a few heads, a cheeky grin across his face. Ezzy lifts a brow and gives him a look that saysreally?
A tight, twisting dread curls through me. Great, just what I need, more eyes on me. Heat crawls up the back of my neck, as my Threads flickers hotter beneath my skin, hungry. But I force a breath in, steady myself, and push them back down.
“Disappointed?” I reply, keeping my voice steady.
He lets out a soft laugh, picking up on my sarcasm, like he’s pleased I gave it back to him. “Mildly. Just would’ve won a bet.”
Beside him, Rowan doesn't join in the banter; he stays quiet, eyes on his book, but every so often I catch him glancing my way. It’s not judging, not unfriendly, just... watching.
Then Finn leans forward, blocking the view between us, drumming his fingers on the edge of the desk in front of him, the rhythm quick and light, like he can’t quite sit still. “So, I can still sleep through this, right?”
Ezzy gasps, eyes wide. “Professor Marovian helped reforge the Codex.”
“Exactly,” he replies.
She shakes her head, but there’s a warmth beneath it she probably doesn’t even notice. “You might not want to be here,but you still need to pass the year. Or are you hoping your parents will bail you out of troubleagain?”
Finn’s grin slips as he slouches down into his seat, muttering something under his breath. Ezzy just rolls her eyes, a flicker of a smile breaking through before she dives into her pack, pulling out books and pens and lining them up with military precision in front of her. Then she glances my way, and spots that I’m empty-handed.
“Here.” She holds out a spare notebook and a black quill, offering both with a hopeful smile. “Just until you get your supply issue sorted...”
I freeze. Not because I’m not grateful. But because I don’t want to take any more handouts than I need, not unless it’s another blade that could kill someone... I know she means well, but still, where I’m from, favours come with hooks. And no one gives anything without wanting something back, now or later.
I shake my head and decline her offer.
“You sure? Marovian talks fast?—”
“I’ll just listen.”
She blinks, a little taken aback, but covers it quickly with a small nod. “Okay. Yeah. Of course.”
I don’t owe her anything, but pushing her away now would be stupid. She’s useful, connected, and eager to please. So I force a smile and say thanks, then quickly turn forward before she can offer anything else.
“Silence is the first step to survival.” A voice down in front booms. “If you can’t manage that, leave now.”
The lecture theatre door slams shut and a tall professor strides in, robes trailing in his wake—deep blue, trimmed in silver, the embroidery catching the light with every step.
No one moves as he reaches the platform and sets a massive book down on the iron lectern. It lands with a thud that echoes off stone, weighty and final.
