Theo shifts his feet, the faint scrape of his boot against stone marking the movement. His face contorts, thoughtful, troubled, pulling him into deeper contemplation than he seems ready to voice aloud. He opens his mouth once, closes it again, then finally offers a single, careful sentence.
“That is the question, isn’t it?”
And nothing more.
He falls silent just as Liam and Trevor reappear once more, their footsteps echoing on stone floor. Theostraightens at the sound, shoulders lifting with quiet composure, the brief moment of vulnerability wiped from his features.
Whatever answer he might have given me dissolves with their approach, leaving only the question hanging in the air like smoke.
Why?
6
HARPER
The passageway leading from Vireldan to Anvaris is unlike anything I imagined. Few students even know it exists, carved long before the academy’s current walls, winding beneath the forest floor like a root system older than the kingdom itself. Theo guided us through it with surprising assurance; though his eyes do not focus, he seems tofeelthe tunnels in a way that borders on uncanny. Each turn, each fork, each staircase that curled downward and then sharply upward, he navigated as though following the memory of an echo carved into stone.
The air inside was cool and dry, tinged with the faint metallic scent of ancient wards. The lanterns lining the walls flickered with violet flames, illuminating murals etched by hands long gone, depictions of sorcery that look far too wild and raw to have ever been sanctioned by modern Vireldan.
By the time we emerge through the stone archway concealed in the hillside, daylight has stretched fully across the sky.
And there it is.
Anvaris.
The town unfolds like a tapestry of color and sound. Cobblestone streets glisten with dew; the shop awnings ripple in the breeze; runes etched into the doorframes glow faintly with morning enchantments. Merchants are already shouting prices, their voices mingling with the clatter of rune-forges and the hiss of simmering cauldrons from the alchemist row. Birds flit past, carrying letters bound inenchanted twine, and the smell of honey bread mixes with the sharp tang of potion herbs.
It is… overwhelming. And yet, in a way I didn’t expect, comforting.
The academy is stone and silence. Anvaris is breath and life.
Liam inhales deeply, stretching his arms as though the air itself rejuvenates him. “I’d forgotten how much I like it here,” he says, already scanning the street with the wide eyes of a boy who never lost his sense of wonder.
Theo walks at his side, his wand glowing brightly in front of him. “The early hour is the best time to come,” he agrees. “Before the crowds thicken. The sounds are cleaner. Less… muddled.”
I step slightly behind them, pulling my cloak tighter as I take in the vibrancy, the magic crackling like static in the air. Trevor lingers beside me, closer than he was in the passageway, though still polite enough to maintain a respectful distance.
It doesn’t last.
After a few paces, he slows deliberately, allowing Liam and Theo to drift further ahead as they debate which bakery makes the best mulled pastries. Their conversation becomes a soft blur of voices, leaving Trevor and me walking side by side in a quieter bubble of sound.
“So,” Trevor begins casually, though the measured tone betrays how carefully he’s chosen the moment, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
I glance at him, brow furrowing. “And what exactly is that?”
He lifts his chin slightly, his pale green-blue eyes, unfocused but intent, turning toward me in a way that feels startlingly perceptive. “Your eyes,” he says simply. “They’re… unusual.”
Every muscle in my spine goes rigid.
“I noticed yesterday, in the common area,” he continues softly. “Most wouldn’t, not right away. But I’ve trained myself to pay attention to the subtleties people overlook.”
My breath catches, though I force my voice to remain steady. “Unusual how?”
A faint smile touches his lips, not mocking, not prying. Merely observant. “Violet. Not a shade I have encountered often. And in our world… such things carry meaning.”
My pulse quickens, heartbeat thudding a fraction too hard beneath my ribs.
“And what meaning,” I ask carefully, “do you think they carry?”
