Instructor Ky’s voice, when it finally cut through her daze, was soft, yet each word landed like a shard of frozen steel. “It seems my concerns were understated.” His shadow fell over her. She didn’t look up, couldn’t. Shame, deep and sickening, churned within her. She had done this. She had unleashed that… that abomination. From her own soul.
A commotion from the direction of the main citadel—the distant sound of a warning horn and the closer thud of running boots on turf—was a muted chaos that barely penetrated the roaring in her ears. Gessa kept her head bowed, but saw the boots of two guards skid to a halt before Instructor Ky. She didn’t need to see their questioning looks; she saw the shadow of Ky’s arm extend, his finger pointing down directly at her. A quick, painful glance confirmed what she already felt: the rest of Wyvern Cohort had instinctively shuffled backward, creating a circle of empty space around her, as if her very presence was a contagion.
Acting on Ky’s silent, damning gesture, the guards moved in. A different pair than the ones from the gate, their faces grim and wary, they planted themselves on either side of her. She was vaguely aware of Ky’s commanding voice dismissing the rest of the stunned cohort, ordering them back to the barracks under the supervision of another instructor who had hurried onto the scene. Then, she was being led away, the silence of her former cohort a damning verdict pressing on her back, each step an exercise in placing one trembling foot before the other.
Ky watched Gessa being escorted from the practice ground, a grim set to his jaw. The lingering trace of her chaotic magic, that unsettling peppermint smell mixed with ozone, was an offense to his senses. The terror in the eyes of Wyvern Cohort was a stark indictment. He turned, Night appearing like a gilded shadow at his side, the lynx’s usual composure ruffled, a low, almost inaudible growl still vibrating in his massive chest.
Ky didn’t bother with pleasantries, striding directly into the sparse, map-lined chamber where Aris Thorne and Lolly often conducted their more private deliberations. He found them bent over a large map of the northern territories spread across the table, its surface dotted with a disturbing cluster of red markers near the Blackstone Mountains.
On their perch near the desk, Lolly’s paired Great Horned Owls, Hoot and Silence, swiveled their heads in silent unison to fix their huge amber eyes on him. Aris looked up from the map, his expression grim, while Lolly set down a silver caliper she’d been using, her own amber gaze just as sharp.
“She summoned a Void-Stalker, Aris,” Ky stated, his voice a low, controlled tremor of anger. “From raw Line energy, during a simple sensing exercise. A hostile magical construct. I had to destroy it before it harmed a recruit.”
He saw the flicker of alarm in their eyes, but pressed on. “This isn’t just untamed talent anymore. This is a clear danger. She’s a magnet for chaos. She has to be sealed. Now. Before she kills someone or brings this entire Academy down.”
Aris Thorne steepled his fingers, his gaze grave. “A manifested creature from a sensing exercise is unprecedented, Instructor Ky. And deeply troubling, I agree.”
Lolly spoke, her voice firm but measured. “The danger is undeniable, Ky. No one disputes that. But Spur Law is also clear. She has the talent, a potent one, however volatile. Our first duty is to attempt training, to offer mastery.”
“Mastery?” Ky scoffed, the sound harsh in the quiet room. “What she displayed was the opposite of mastery! It was raw, destructive instinct. She has no foundation, no discipline, and she’s nearly thirty years old! She’s clinging to that power with a desperation that makes her reckless.” He thought of her in the bathhouse, that fleeting, unwelcome awareness, then her defiant stance in the small instruction room. “She’s a spark, and this Academy is tinder.”
Aris Thorne exchanged a brief look with Lolly. “Your concerns are noted, Instructor, and carry significant weight,” Aris said. “Master Ashworth and I will confer on this immediately. Would you give us a few moments alone, please?”
Ky felt a surge of impatience but inclined his head stiffly. “As you wish, Master Thorne.” He turned and exited the chamber, Night followed, the door closing softly behind them. He found himself pacing the cool stone corridor outside, a caged beast. His leg throbbed, a dull counterpoint to the sharper, more recent unease that clawed at him.
ThatthingGessa had manifested… its shadowy, unnatural form, its hungry malice… it was too close, too reminiscent. His breath hitched. The scent of ozone and burnt peppermint from the practice ground seemed to mix in his memory with the coppery tang of blood and the unearthly cold that had heralded the ambush five years ago.
He could almost feel the phantom tearing sensation, the icy void where Dawn’s vibrant life had been ripped from his soul. He pressed a hand to his side, fighting down a wave of nausea. Night whined softly, a low thrum of distress, and pushed his massivehead against Ky’s thigh. Ky rested his hand on the lynx’s familiar fur, drawing a ragged breath.
This woman, Gessa, with her wild, volatile magic, was a walking reminder of everything he’d lost, everything he feared. She was a catalyst for the chaos he had dedicated his fractured life to containing. If Aris and Lolly didn’t see the sense in neutralizing that threat…
The door opened. Lolly stood there, her expression unreadable. “Instructor Ky, please come in.”
He re-entered the chamber, his resolve hardened by the brief, ugly communion with his memories.
Aris Thorne regarded him steadily. “We have considered your report, Ky, and the gravity of the event,” Aris began. “The danger Gessa’s uncontrolled talent poses is self-evident.”
“And yet,” Lolly interjected, her gaze keen, “a power like that, if controlled, if it could be shaped… it represents a singular potential for the Iron Spurs. One we cannot dismiss out of hand, especially now. The northern patrols are reporting coordinated raids. We’ve lost contact with two prospector camps in a week. Something is organizing the bandits in the Blackstone region. In these uncertain times, a powerful, unknown quantity like Gessa might be a weapon we desperately need.”
“A weapon?” Ky scoffed, the sound harsh in the quiet room. “She’s a walking catastrophe, not a sword to be aimed. Her power is a liability, not an asset.”
Lolly’s gaze sharpened, her voice taking on a new, cutting edge. “A liability you have not yet attempted to address with anything other than condemnation. The Law demands we try. And you, Instructor, speak only of her power’s danger. You have no true measure of the crucible that forged her to even reach our gates, what she has already endured and overcome just to stand before us claiming her right.”
Ky felt a muscle tighten in his jaw. Her past suffering, however terrible, did not alter the present facts.
“Her endurance doesn’t change the nature of the beast she almost unleashed, Master Ashworth. It doesn’t change the terror in the eyes of those recruits. My primary responsibility is to them, to their safety, and to the integrity of our training.”
“And to hers, Ky,” Aris said quietly. “To attempt to guide her, if guidance is possible. Sealing, without a genuine attempt at training, or against her will unless she proves an unmanageable and immediate lethal threat, is not our way. Not yet.”
He paused, then delivered their decision. “She cannot continue practical exercises with her cohort. The risk is too great. Her theoretical studies, history, Line theory, Spur Code, she may continue those with Wyvern Cohort, under close observation from all instructors. But all practical Ley Line work, anything involving her actively touching or drawing upon her talent, will henceforth be conducted by you, alone with her, under the strictest possible supervision and in carefully chosen, isolated locations.”
Ky felt a cold dread mix with his frustration. Alone with her? With that chaotic power? It was a fool’s errand.
“You are her assigned instructor, Ky,” Aris stated, his voice leaving no room for argument. “You have more experience with difficult manifestations than any other here. You will give her a real chance. You will use every tool, every method at your disposal, short of permanent harm, to guide her toward control. If, after every effort, she remains an unacceptable danger, then we will revisit the option of binding. But not before she has been given that chance. That is my decision.”
Ky inclined his head stiffly, the words a bitter pill. Burdened. Again. With an impossible task, a walking catastrophe. “As you command, Master Thorne.” He turned, Night rising to meet him, the great lynx’s bulk a comforting, familiar presence, and sweptfrom the room, the weight of their unsparing, perhaps naive, mercy pressing on his shoulders.
Gessa was confined to her small room for the rest of the day, the silence deafening after the chaos of the practice ground and the damning quiet of her cohort as she’d been led away. She replayed the horror of the morning: her own power tearing free with that terrifying, almost gleeful ferocity; the monstrous shape it had taken; the abject terror in the eyes of the young men she trained alongside; Ky’s glacial fury.
