The candle flickered low, casting long shadows across Kaelen's room. Neither Seraphine nor Selene had spoken in a while. They stood on opposite sides of the room, like two halves of a choice he hadn't made yet.
Kaelen sat on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, hands loosely clasped.
His head throbbed—not from magic, not from visions—but from the weight of the moment.
They were watching him.
Waiting.
And for the first time since he'd arrived at the Academy, Kaelen felt completely exposed.
He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know what the right move is."
"You don't have to," Selene said softly. "You only have to choose the one you can live with."
"And what if I can't live with either?"
Seraphine shifted near the door, arms crossed. Her gaze hadn't left him for the past ten minutes. "You already know the answer, Kaelen. You've always known."
He looked up at her. "Then why does it feel like either way, I lose someone?"
That silenced both of them.
Selene took a step forward, her voice barely audible. "Because you do."
Outside, the Academy was sleeping.
Except for the wind.
It whispered through the stone arches, whistling across glyph-etched towers and moonlit halls. It rustled the wardglass over the training grounds and stirred the flameblossoms along the eastern gardens. Somewhere in the deep, the Tower's envoy waited in stillness, breathing magic through sigil-inked skin.
Kaelen left his room quietly, cloak pulled around him. He didn't look back.
He needed air.
But more than that—he needed space to think without their eyes on him.
He made his way to the upper observatory. The door wasn't locked—few places were at night, except the vaults. He ascended the spiral staircase slowly, footsteps silent against the worn stone.
The stars were out.
And beyond them… the Tower.
He could feel it, like a pressure in the back of his skull. Ever since his glyph had changed shape, it had become harder to sleep. Harder to breathe without feeling like something ancient was watching.
As he stepped into the dome, he nearly ran into her.
"Sorry—" he started, then froze.
It wasn't Selene.
It wasn't Seraphine.
It was Mira.
She turned, surprise flickering across her face, but it quickly softened. "Couldn't sleep either?"
Kaelen shook his head. "You too?"
"Too many threads pulling at once," she said. "And I've always hated decisions made during the day. Night brings clarity."
"Does it?" he asked. "Because all I feel is more lost."
Mira gave him a quiet look. "Then maybe you're finally asking the right questions."
She stepped aside and motioned for him to join her at the curved glass.
Below, the entire Academy stretched in silence. Hundreds of sigils dimly glowed in dormitory windows, faint pulses of sleeping magic.
And near the west spire—he saw it. A ripple. A flare too precise to be chance.
A sigil from the Tower.
Mira followed his gaze and gave a small nod. "They're here."
"Why haven't they acted yet?"
"Because they want you to come to them. It's cleaner that way. No witnesses. No rebellion. Just a neat little purge no one will talk about."
Kaelen felt cold. "And if I don't?"
"They'll do it anyway. Messier."
He closed his eyes.
Silence stretched between them.
"Why are you helping me?" he asked.
Mira didn't answer at first. When she did, her voice was quieter. "Because the last time someone like you rose, the Tower tried to kill them before they understood their power."
Kaelen turned toward her. "And what happened?"
Mira looked at him. "They failed."
Selene sat in her quarters, staring at the token in her palm.
It shimmered faintly—an encoded portal sigil, old and dangerous. A one-use gate.
She had stolen it from her family vault before leaving the capital. She hadn't known why at the time.
Now she did.
It was their way out.
And Kaelen still hadn't chosen.
Part of her wanted to burst into his room. To drag him away from the Academy, away from Seraphine, away from the madness of glyphs and towers and forgotten truths.
But that wasn't how he worked.
She closed her eyes, leaning back against the wall. In the flickering candlelight, her reflection shimmered in the mirror across the room—and for just a second, it wasn't her face looking back.
It was the girl from the vision.
The girl who had once held Kaelen's hand before everything fell apart.
Selene's fingers curled around the token.
One more night.
That's all she'd give him.
Seraphine paced the empty training ring, glyphs swirling faintly at her fingertips.
She wasn't supposed to feel this much.
Her training had taught her to suppress, to compartmentalize. But Kaelen unraveled all of it. With his questions. With his stupid, infuriating kindness. With the way he looked at her like she was someone worth saving.
She couldn't protect him if he didn't trust her.
And if he ran?
She wouldn't follow.
Not because she didn't want to—but because the moment she stepped outside sanctioned territory, her own sigil would activate. The Tower would brand her rogue.
And she wouldn't survive long.
But if he stayed…
Her heart twisted.
Seraphine exhaled slowly, letting her sigil dim. She couldn't afford to fall in love with him.
But she already had.
The next morning came with frost.
Kaelen stood beneath the arches of the central courtyard, cloak pulled tight against the cold. He looked up just in time to see the envoy descending the western stairs.
Tall.
White-cloaked.
No visible glyphs.
But his presence… radiated suppression.
The air bent slightly around his steps. Students cleared the path unconsciously. No one spoke.
The envoy stopped a few paces from Kaelen.
"You've been requested," he said.
Kaelen swallowed.
Then nodded.
He didn't look back as he followed the man toward the central tower.
But Selene, watching from above, clenched the token so tightly it cracked.
And Seraphine, already moving through the eastern halls, activated a glyph hidden beneath her sleeve.
Neither of them planned to let him go in alone.