The medical wing smelled of antiseptic and old bandages. Val sat on a cot, her shoulder wrapped tight, watching the healer—a woman with tired eyes and experienced hands—finish with her and move on. The cut from the creature's claw had been deep, but not deep enough to keep her down.
She flexed her fingers. They still worked. Good.
Across the room, Ethan was arguing with a healer about whether he needed to stay overnight. Riker was already gone, discharged. Rel had disappeared the moment they'd walked through the doors, his screen dark and his shoulders hunched.
Cale was gone, too. She'd seen him slip out when the healers weren't looking. She didn't call after him. He had his own secrets; it wasn't her concern, after all.
She lay back on the cot and stared at the ceiling. The white tiles blurred, and for a moment she was back in the cave, watching Rel open his mouth, hearing that sound—stones grinding, something ancient and wrong.
She'd been scared. Not of the Pale Skulkers, not of the massive Grave-Watcher. But of Rel. Of the way his voice had made the beast stop, the way he'd spoken two syllables and the world had bent around him.
Val hadn't been scared of a lot of things in her life. Alleys at night. Men with knives. The dark corners where no one would find her. But this was different. This was a boy her age who could say a word she couldn't understand and force reality to obey.
She tried to imagine what it would be like to have that power—to open her mouth and have the world listen. She couldn't. It was too big, too strange.
But she'd seen him after. She'd seen the way his hand had gone to his throat, the way his shoulders had trembled. He was scared, too. Maybe that was the only way someone could carry a burden like that.
She snorted. You're getting soft, Val.
Her gauntlet chimed. She lifted her wrist, squinting at the screen.
```
Mission Complete: Nest Containment.
Experience gained: 47 points.
Experience: 47/300
New rank progress: C (47/300)
```
Forty-seven. It wasn't enough to push her to the next threshold, but it was better than nothing. She was about to dismiss it when another notification appeared on her system screen.
```
[Rewards Unlocked]:
[Memory Acquired: Ember Cloak]
Type: Armor | Rank: C
Description: Armor woven from solidified flame. Provides protection against physical attacks, extreme cold, and minor fire-based attacks. Grants +10% fire affinity.
[Skill Unlocked: Flame Lash]
Description: A whip of fire that extends up to ten feet. And can be used to strike, grapple, or ignite.
Cost: Low.
[Echo Acquired: Glimmerwing (Flamebound)]
Description: A spectral copy of the first major Fallen you helped slay. Its form is wreathed in flames. It can scout, distract, or ignite. It is attracted to sound and transmits audio back to the user. Cannot be killed, but requires 15 minutes to reform if dispelled.
```
Val sat up, staring at the text. A Memory. A new skill. An Echo. She couldn't process it all at once.
She summoned the Echo without thinking. Right there in the clinic, a small form materialized in the air beside her. It was a Glimmerwing, its six legs folded and its wings translucent. But instead of the grey, lifeless carapace of the living creatures, this one was engulfed in flames licking along its edges, its blind eyes now burning coals.
It hovered there, waiting. She focused, and immediately she could hear—not the room around her, but a faint whisper of sounds from elsewhere: footsteps in the corridor, a door closing, a man's quiet murmur. The Glimmerwing's hearing was tied to hers.
She let it fade, her heart pounding. This thing could scout. It could hear enemies before they saw her. She could send it into a tunnel and know exactly what was waiting. The possibilities were endless.
She pulled up her full system screen.
```
User: Valerie
Status: Awakened
Rank: C
Sign: Aries
Stage: Awakened
Aspect: — (pending)
Element: Fire
Special Abilities: Wildfire, Ember Step, Flame Cloak
Memory: Ember Cloak (Armor)
Echo: Glimmerwing (Flamebound)
Mauri: 43/100
Experience: 47/300
Flaw: —
```
She stared at the Memory slot. Armor. Real armor, made of fire. She'd never owned anything that could stop a blade; she'd always thought only arrogant noble bastards got stuff like that. Her fingers itched to summon it, but the medical wing was too public. She would check it out later.
She made a mental note to find someone who knew how to use a whip, to figure out how to make that lash do more than just burn.
The healer came back, checked her shoulder, and told her she could leave. Val stood, shrugged on her jacket, and walked out into the corridor. The academy was quiet, most students already in their rooms. She made her way to the Anómalos dormitory, her footsteps echoing on the stone.
When she got to her room, she locked the door and leaned against it. The sofa was still there. The bathroom was just how she'd left it. Her bed was made.
She summoned the Ember Cloak. It materialized over her shoulders, heavier than she had expected—solid plates of woven fire, warm against her skin, the threads glowing a faint orange. It fit as if it were custom-made for her. She moved her arms, testing the weight. It was substantial, but it didn't slow her.
She summoned the Echo again. The Glimmerwing appeared, its wings flickering, its body a constellation of embers.
She closed her eyes and focused on its hearing. Immediately, sounds flooded in: the creak of the old building, a student laughing somewhere down the hall, the distant clatter of dishes from the dining hall.
She opened her eyes and grinned. "Perfect," she whispered. She could be a spy without ever having to be in the room.
She dismissed the Echo and sat on the edge of her bed, the Ember Cloak still warm on her shoulders. She thought about the Skulkers and the way they'd fallen to her fire. She thought about the Grave-Watcher in the cave that had almost killed them. She thought about the Flame Lash—how she could use it to pull enemies off balance and create space.
And she thought about Rel. The bastard was terrifying. She thought about the way his voice had stopped the beast, even if only for a moment. The way he'd looked afterward—small and fragile under that mask.
She closed her eyes. I'm not going to run, she thought. Not because of some scary little doofus.
She'd been running her whole life. From the streets, from the memories of a brother who'd promised to come back and never did. But here, in this room, with armor of fire on her shoulders and a flame-winged creature that could hear a whisper from across the academy, she felt something she hadn't felt in years.
Roots. She was finally putting down roots.
She lay back on the bed, the Ember Cloak spread beneath her, and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow, she'd find the training yard. Tomorrow, she'd master the Flame Lash and the Echo. Tomorrow, she'll be stronger.
She fell asleep before she could think of anything else.
She dreamt of burning flames. And a boy with a mask covering his mouth—a monster whose voice towered over her dreams. It was Rel, and he was trying to kill her.
When she woke, drenched in sweat, the sun was rising. The Ember Cloak was still warm on her shoulders.
She trembled.