Something was off.
I couldn't prove it.
Couldn't name it.
But I felt it.
And once I noticed it, I couldn't stop.
The academy was loud again.
Not chaotic—just alive.
Students filled the training grounds, voices overlapping, magic flickering in controlled bursts. It looked normal.
It sounded normal.
But it didn't feel normal.
Not to me.
"Lyra!"
I turned as Nira jogged toward me, slightly out of breath.
"You're early," she said.
"I couldn't sleep," I replied.
That wasn't entirely a lie.
My shadows shifted faintly along the ground, more alert than they had been in days.
Nira studied me for a moment. "You've had that look since yesterday."
"What look?"
"The one where you're thinking too much and not saying it."
I exhaled softly. "I think something's wrong."
Her expression shifted instantly. "What kind of wrong?"
"I don't know yet."
"That's not reassuring."
"I know."
Before she could ask more, voices rose nearby.
A small crowd had gathered near one of the training circles.
"What's going on?" Nira asked.
"Let's find out."
When we got closer, I immediately recognized the group.
Tarek stood near the center, arms crossed, watching something with a focused expression.
Elsa was there too—sparks dancing faintly at her fingertips, her gaze sharp and calculating.
Cassian stood a few steps back, clearly unimpressed with whatever was happening.
"What did we miss?" Nira asked, stepping in beside them.
Tarek glanced at us. "Demonstration."
"Of?" I asked.
He nodded toward the center.
A student I didn't recognize was attempting a controlled energy projection—something precise, technical.
At first, everything seemed fine.
Stable.
Then—
It flickered.
Just for a second.
A subtle distortion in the magic.
Barely noticeable.
But I felt it.
My shadows reacted instantly, pulling slightly closer to me.
"Did you see that?" I murmured.
Elsa's eyes narrowed. "Yes."
The student steadied himself, continuing the exercise.
Nothing else happened.
The crowd began to disperse.
"Probably just instability," someone said dismissively.
"Yeah, happens all the time."
But Elsa didn't look convinced.
Neither did I.
"You felt it too," I said quietly as the others moved away.
Elsa crossed her arms, sparks flickering once before fading. "That wasn't normal."
Tarek nodded slightly. "It wasn't loss of control. It was interference."
Nira frowned. "Interference from what?"
No one answered immediately.
Cassian finally spoke. "You're all jumping to conclusions."
I looked at him.
"Am I?"
He held my gaze for a moment.
Then shrugged. "Not saying you're wrong. Just saying you don't have proof."
He wasn't wrong.
That was the problem.
"Lyra."
I didn't turn right away.
I already knew who it was.
Kaelen stepped beside me, his presence instantly grounding.
"You're tense," he said quietly.
"There's something happening," I replied.
"I know."
I blinked, surprised. "You felt it too?"
"Yes."
That made my chest tighten.
If both of us sensed it—
Then it wasn't nothing.
We moved away from the others, toward the edge of the training grounds where it was quieter.
"What do you think it is?" I asked.
Kaelen didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he scanned the area slowly, his gaze sharp in a way I hadn't seen since the attacks.
"Not an attack," he said finally.
"Then what?"
"A test."
The word settled heavily between us.
"A test?"
His eyes met mine.
"To see how we respond. How we react to small disruptions."
A chill ran through me.
"My shadows reacted immediately," I said.
"And you noticed something others didn't," he replied.
"That's exactly the kind of information someone would want."
"Someone inside the academy," I whispered.
He didn't deny it.That evening, I couldn't shake the feeling.
Every conversation.
Every glance.
Every flicker of magic.
I noticed everything.
Too much, maybe.
"You're spiraling," Kaelen said quietly as we walked along the dimly lit path near the dorms.
"I'm observing."
"You're overanalyzing."
I stopped walking, turning to face him.
"What if I'm right?"
He stepped closer.
"Then we'll figure it out," he said.
"And if I'm not?"
"Then you're being cautious."
His voice softened.
"And that's not a weakness."
I looked away briefly, my shadows shifting restlessly.
"I don't like not knowing," I admitted.
"I know."
I glanced back at him. "You do?"
A faint smile touched his lips. "You like control."
"I do not—"
"You absolutely do."
I huffed softly. "…Okay, maybe a little."
His expression softened further.
"You don't have to carry everything alone," he said.
The words hit deeper than they should have.
"I'm not," I said.
"You try to."
Silence stretched between us.
Because he wasn't wrong.
We had drifted closer without realizing it.
Close enough that I could feel the warmth of his light before it even appeared.
"You trust them?" I asked suddenly.
"Who?"
"Everyone."
He considered that.
"No," he said honestly.
That surprised me.
"But I don't distrust them either," he added.
"That's not helpful."
"It's realistic."
I sighed softly.
"I hate that."
He stepped closer.
"I know."
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The air felt heavier now—not tense, but charged with everything we weren't saying.
"If there is someone inside," I said quietly, "we won't see it coming."
"We might," he said.
"How?"
His gaze held mine.
"By trusting the right people."
"And how do we know who those are?"
His hand lifted slowly, brushing lightly against mine.
"We don't," he said.
"Not completely."
My breath caught slightly.
"That's the risk."
Something in me shifted at that.
Fear.
Trust.
Something in between.
"Kaelen…"
He didn't let me finish.
Not with words.
His hand moved to my cheek, warm and steady, grounding me instantly.
And when he kissed me—
It wasn't just about closeness anymore.
It was reassurance.
A quiet promise in the middle of uncertainty.
My shadows softened around us, no longer restless.
Just… calm.
For now.
When we pulled apart, I stayed close, my forehead resting lightly against his.
"If this gets worse…" I whispered.
"It will," he said gently.
I let out a small breath. "That's not what I was hoping you'd say."
"I won't lie to you."
"I know."
That was the problem.
And the comfort.
We sat in a comfortable silence for about an hour with me leaning my head against his shoulder. Before leaving to the dining hall. Upon reaching the hall we went our separate ways with him going to sit at the royal table.
The dining hall was louder than usual that evening.
Not chaotic—just full.
Voices overlapped, laughter rising in bursts that almost felt forced, like everyone was trying a little too hard to prove things were normal again.
I sat with Nira, Tarek, Elsa, and Cassian, the long wooden table crowded with students I was only just beginning to recognize.
That was new.
A few days ago, I would have been sitting at the edge.
Now—
"You handled that well earlier," Tarek said, glancing at me as he set his cup down.
"With the disruption."
"It wasn't just me," I replied.
Elsa leaned forward slightly. "You noticed it first."
Cassian snorted softly. "Or she's just better at making it look like she did."
I raised an eyebrow. "You're still doing that?"
"Doing what?"
"Pretending you don't trust me."
A brief pause.
Then, surprisingly—
Cassian leaned back slightly, studying me.
"I don't trust easily," he said.
"That's not the same thing."
"Maybe not," he admitted.
His gaze flickered briefly to my shadows.
"But I'm starting to think you're not the problem."
That was… new.
Before I could respond, someone else spoke from further down the table.
"You're Lyra, right?"
I turned.
A girl I hadn't spoken to before—dark braids, sharp eyes—watched me carefully.
"I saw what you did at the festival," she continued.
Her tone wasn't warm.
But it wasn't hostile either.
"It didn't look like you were defending."
The table went quieter.
Not silent—but attentive.
I met her gaze evenly.
"It didn't feel like I had the luxury to hold back," I said.
She held my stare for a moment longer.
Then nodded once.
"Fair."
She turned back to her food like that settled it.
But it didn't feel settled.
Not completely.
A few minutes later, as conversations picked up again, something small caught my attention.
Not a voice.
Not a movement.
A flicker.
Near the far end of the hall.
My gaze shifted subtly.
A figure stood partially in shadow near one of the stone pillars—just at the edge of the torchlight.
Watching.
Not eating.
Not speaking.
Just… watching.
My shadows stirred instantly.
"Lyra?" Nira said softly.
I didn't respond right away.
Because the moment I focused—
The figure moved.
Not quickly.
Not suspiciously.
Just enough to step fully into the light.
And suddenly—
They were just another student.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing wrong.
I frowned slightly.
"Did you see that?" I murmured.
"See what?" Nira asked.
I hesitated.
Then shook my head slowly.
"Nothing."
But my shadows didn't settle.
They stayed alert.
Watching the same place.
Long after the figure was gone.
Later that night, alone in my room, I sat by the window, watching the academy grounds below.
Everything looked normal.
Quiet.
Peaceful.
But I knew better now.
My shadows stretched along the floor, thinner, sharper.
Listening.
Waiting.
Somewhere out there—
Someone was watching us.
Learning us.
And when they finally made their move—
It wouldn't be random.
It would be precise.
Intentional.
And dangerous.