The tension in the room was thick; every face turned toward him, a mix of surprise, irritation, and curiosity.
Nate leaned casually against the doorframe, his smirk widening as he saw Chloe's reaction.
Chloe, who had initially jumped at the sudden entrance, rolled her eyes, crossing her arms with a look that was somewhere between amused and exasperated. "Nate. Subtle as always." She cast a glance around at the other council members, her face settling back into a composed mask. "Is there... a reason for this interruption?"
Nate's smirk didn't falter as he straightened and gestured toward Sophia, who stood just behind him, flanked by Anton and Evan. "Actually, yes. I thought it was only right to introduce someone here." His gaze flicked to Irina and Elysia, who were seated toward the back of the room. "I wanted to introduce Sophia Bently to Irina and Elysia. They're the ones who really deserve her thanks."
Elysia looked up, her blue eyes studying Sophia with an expression that was both cautious and kind. Irina, beside her, gave a small nod, her usual calm demeanour softening as she recognized Sophia's significance. They exchanged a brief look before Elysia rose from her seat and approached Sophia, her expression becoming more welcoming.
Sophia, for her part, shifted under their gaze, clearly not used to this kind of attention. She held herself stiffly but met their eyes with a quiet determination. "I... I wanted to thank you both," she began, her voice softer than her usual tone. "I know you've been going to the hospital, working to help my sister. It means more than you know."
Irina's face softened as she stepped forward, offering a small smile. "We're just doing what's right," she replied. "But I'm glad to hear she's holding on. We'll keep doing everything we can."
Elysia nodded, her expression resolute. "Susana's fight isn't over. And neither is ours."
The quiet sincerity in her words seemed to ease some of the tension in Sophia's posture, and she gave a grateful nod, her gaze flickering briefly to Nate, as if acknowledging that he'd brought her here for a reason.
Chloe cleared her throat, redirecting the attention back to herself. "Well, thank you for the introductions, Nate," she said with a hint of impatience. "Is that all, or did you have something else in mind?"
Nate grinned, his mischievous glint returning. "Actually, I do." He took a step forward, catching the attention of the entire council as he leaned casually on the back of a nearby chair. "I've been thinking that with all the tension in the air, maybe it's time to give everyone a break—a chance to reset and, well, celebrate a little."
Chloe arched an eyebrow, her interest clearly piqued, though she kept her expression carefully neutral. "Go on."
"It's December already, isn't it?" Nate continued, his voice filling the room. "Perfect timing for a festival—a week-long celebration across the academy. We'd bring in events, sports, gatherings, maybe even some performances. A whole festival to break up the monotony around here and remind everyone what we're here for."
He glanced around, gauging the reactions in the room. The idea seemed to spark a flicker of interest among the council members, a subtle shift in their postures.
The vice president, a striking woman with soft, rose-coloured hair and round glasses that gave her an air of intellectual elegance, leaned forward, adjusting her glasses. Her eyes held a mixture of curiosity and caution as she examined Nate. "And what, exactly, would be the purpose of this festival, Nate?" she asked, her tone calm but probing.
Nate shot her a smile. "Good question. Besides letting everyone blow off some steam, we'd also use it as an opportunity to really implement some of the changes we talked about. Different sports, arts, and activities that every student, regardless of their status, can participate in. Blanks, Marks, Voiders—everyone."
There was a murmur around the room, the other council members exchanging glances. Chloe's gaze remained steady, watching Nate closely, her fingers tapping lightly on the table.
"And here's the kicker," Nate continued, his voice dropping slightly. "We don't just keep this festival to ourselves. We should establish an academy newspaper—something that can get word of what's happening here out to the broader media. Let people outside know about Susana, about the pressure cooker this place has become."
The room went completely silent, his words hanging in the air like a challenge. Nate held his ground, watching the faces around him as they absorbed what he'd proposed.
"You're suggesting we essentially... publicize the inner workings of NovaMyst?" the vice president asked, her tone laced with caution.
"Why not?" Nate shot back, his voice steady. "The royals, the higher-ups—they're the ones who pushed for inclusivity. So, let's give them the chance to prove it. Let's put their words to the test. This way, they can't ignore Susana's situation or any other student's for that matter. We make sure the world knows what's happening here, and we remind those in power that it's on them to back up their own policies."
He tapped Anton on the shoulder with a proud grin. "It was actually this guy's idea," he added, a spark of admiration clear in his tone. Anton merely gave a calm nod, seemingly unfazed, though Chloe's eyes flickered with surprise as she glanced at him, her expression softening just slightly. It was as if she hadn't expected the typically reserved Anton to devise such a bold and strategic plan.
A ripple of surprise went through the room. Irina's eyes sparkled with a hint of approval, while Elysia offered him a small, almost imperceptible nod. Even Chloe's expression softened, her gaze narrowing slightly as she considered his words.
Chloe leaned forward, her eyes locked on Nate. "You do realize this could backfire? Drawing attention from the outside could put even more pressure on NovaMyst—and on us."
Nate shrugged, his gaze unyielding. "Exactly. We let the chaos start. And then... we operate from there. Control it, bend it. Use it to force the change we've all been talking about."
Anton, who had been watching the exchange with his usual calm detachment, finally spoke up, his voice steady. "It's risky, but it's also bold. If we're serious about making changes, we can't keep doing things in whispers and shadows. This could be the shakeup we need." His words carried a weight that seemed to settle over the council, grounding Nate's plan in a calm, logical perspective that made the risk feel almost necessary.
Chloe considered his words, her gaze thoughtful, weighing the proposal carefully. She looked around the room, meeting each of her council members' gazes before finally returning to Nate.
"If we're going to do this," she said slowly, "we need to be prepared for the consequences. This could bring unwanted scrutiny, not just from the royals but from the academy's benefactors, the council, other academies... everyone."
For a moment, Evan shot Nate a skeptical look, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. "You really think they'll actually let this happen? Or that they won't find a way to clamp down the second it starts getting uncomfortable?" he muttered, just loud enough for Nate and Anton to hear.
Nate's grin widened, his confidence unwavering. "Let them scrutinize the more they watch, the harder it'll be for them to ignore what's happening here."
The vice president adjusted her glasses once more, a glint of admiration in her eyes as she looked at Nate. "Well, Mr. Davis, it seems you're not just here to cause trouble after all."
Nate gave her a playful wink. "Trouble just happens to be part of the package."
A faint smile crossed Chloe's face as she nodded. "Alright, then. Let's put it to a vote. Those in favour of Nate's proposal for the festival, the newspaper, and making this... a public affair?"
Hands went up around the room, one by one. Elysia, Irina, Anton, and even the vice president lifted their hands. Chloe's own hand rose last, but with conviction.
"It's decided, then," Chloe announced, a new fire in her gaze. "We'll go ahead with the festival and start working on the academy newspaper. And we'll make sure that Susana's story, along with everything else happening here, reaches beyond these walls."
Nate felt a surge of satisfaction, glancing around at his allies. This was the first step in bringing real change, in tearing down the walls that NovaMyst had built around them.
As the council meeting began to wrap up, Chloe shot him one last look, her expression a mix of admiration and caution. "Just remember, Nate... you've lit the fuse. Now, we need to be ready for what happens when it blows."
Nate chuckled, his eyes glinting with a determined light. "I'm pretty good with fire. Besides, that's the part I'm looking forward to the most."
As Nate and the others exited the council room, the tension that had filled the air began to dissipate, leaving a sense of hope lingering in its place. Sophia, walking beside him, offered a quiet but heartfelt, "Thank you, Nate. I didn't expect... all of this." Her voice softened, and though her face still bore traces of weariness, there was a glimmer of renewed determination in her eyes.
Nate gave her a small smile, his usual bravado softened. "We're in this together. And Susana... she deserves a chance. We all do."
Sophia nodded, her gaze lingering on Nate for a moment longer, as though she were seeing him in a new light. The slight curve of her lips hinted at a trace of optimism that hadn't been there before. With a final nod of gratitude, she headed off down the hall, her posture straighter than it had been when she'd entered.
As Nate watched her go, Anton clapped him on the shoulder. "Looks like we're actually making an impact, who knew me and you could come up with a plan, and agree, while on our way to the student council." He said, a rare hint of satisfaction in his tone.
Nate grinned, glancing at Anton and Evan. "Let's just hope we're ready for the storm we're stirring up."
The days that followed were a flurry of activity as Nate, Anton, Elysia, and Irina threw themselves into preparations. The first order of business was the establishment of the academy newspaper. They decided to make it as inclusive as possible by appointing students from each faction—Blanks, Marks, and Voiders—to oversee its creation and ensure that each voice within the academy was represented. Though it was a bold and risky choice, they believed it was worth it if it meant giving a platform to voices that had long been ignored.
A Blank student named Mira, known for her sharp wit and determination, was appointed as the editor from her faction. Joining her was Caelan, a Mark with a reputation for journalistic integrity, and Tamsin, a Voider who had an impressive knack for investigative research. Together, this unlikely trio would be the backbone of the academy's new newspaper, working to shine a light on the hidden struggles of NovaMyst.
The project was met with its share of skepticism, with some students questioning whether a Voider could fairly represent them, or if a Blank would ever truly be trusted by the Marks. But Nate and the others pressed on, insisting that only through true cooperation could they build something meaningful. The newspaper, they argued, would challenge stereotypes and remind the academy—and beyond—that change could only come when all voices were heard.
Weeks passed in a blur as preparations for the festival ramped up. Each class and year group began training and organizing teams for the upcoming events, and the energy on campus grew steadily more charged. Nate found himself invigorated by the sight of students from all factions coming together, forming teams, practicing, and, perhaps for the first time, seeing each other as equals rather than rivals.
The festival's lineup was ambitious, with each event carefully designed to showcase the unique strengths and talents of every participant:
Elemental Duel – Students trained in harnessing their elemental powers, practicing strategic attacks and defences as they navigated an arena full of challenging obstacles.
Magic Relay Race – Teams practiced coordination and magical dexterity, working to complete a rigorous course filled with checkpoints requiring various spells and magical techniques.
Potion Brewing Contest – Aspiring alchemists perfected their recipes, experimenting with unique ingredients and methods in the hopes of creating potions that would wow the judges.
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Mystic Archery – Archers honed their precision, enchanting their arrows and timing their shots as they faced unpredictable moving targets.
Spellcasting Tournament – Duellists of all kinds prepared for an intense series of elimination rounds, showcasing their versatility in spellcasting and adaptability under pressure.
Illusion Showdown – Students skilled in illusion magic practiced conjuring complex, multi-layered illusions to deceive and outwit their opponents in a game of magical deception.
Magical Obstacle Course – Physical and magical challenges combined as participants trained for a gruelling course that tested their agility, endurance, and creativity.
The grounds of NovaMyst buzzed with an unprecedented excitement as students prepared for the competition. Even the faculty seemed to be caught up in the enthusiasm, observing training sessions and offering guidance to those who sought it. For the first time in months, the academy felt... united. And for a brief moment, Nate allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they were on the cusp of real change.
A Few Weeks Later
The newspaper's first edition was distributed across the academy and beyond, its pages filled with stories of student life, behind-the-scenes interviews, and, most prominently, an exposé on Susana's incident and the conditions within NovaMyst. The impact was immediate, with whispers spreading like wildfire. The students, faculty, and even those outside the academy began to take notice, and the pressure on NovaMyst's administration—and the royals—began to mount.
As Nate and Chloe stood on one of the academy's balconies, looking out over the bustling campus, they could feel the weight of the change they'd sparked. Chloe crossed her arms, her gaze lingering on the clusters of students laughing and talking below.
"They're talking about it, you know. Susana, the festival, the paper. It's causing more waves than I think even we expected," she said, her voice carrying a note of cautious optimism.
Nate chuckled; his gaze warm as he looked out over the academy grounds. "Good. Let them panic a bit. The more pressure, the harder it'll be for them to ignore what's happening here."
Chloe turned to him, a faint smile playing on her lips. "You're enjoying this a bit too much, aren't you?"
Nate shrugged, the mischievous glint in his eyes unmistakable. "It's satisfying to see them squirm. Besides, it's about time NovaMyst felt some pressure from the outside."
They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of what they'd set in motion settling over them. Chloe shifted slightly, her hand brushing the railing as she stole a quick glance at him. There was something different in her gaze—a warmth that lingered just a bit longer than usual. For a brief, fleeting moment, Nate thought he caught something... deeper.
But just as quickly, he shook the thought from his mind. After Elysia had referred to him as a friend, he'd been careful to guard his heart, not wanting to misinterpret the intentions of those around him. Still, standing beside Chloe now, he couldn't entirely ignore the subtle shift in the air between them.
Chloe cleared her throat, a faint flush colouring her cheeks as she turned back to the view. "Well, here's to hoping all this chaos actually leads somewhere good," she said softly, her voice carrying a trace of vulnerability she rarely allowed herself to show.
Nate's expression softened as he looked at her, his voice quiet but steady. "It will. And if it doesn't—" Before he could finish, his vision swam, and a sudden, fierce wave of hunger tore through him, far more intense than he'd felt in a long time. His knees buckled, and his hand instinctively reached for the railing, but he missed, tipping dangerously forward toward the edge of the balcony.
"Nate!" Chloe's voice sharpened in alarm. Without hesitating, she extended her hand, a flicker of magic sparking in her eyes as she cast a spell. Nate felt a strange weightlessness as he was lifted mid-fall, his body suspended in the air. Slowly, carefully, Chloe guided him back to solid ground, lowering him until his feet rested firmly on the balcony floor.
Nate staggered slightly, catching himself against the railing as Chloe moved closer, her expression a mix of worry and shock. "Are you... alright?" she asked, her tone tight with concern.
He forced a weak smile, but his breathing was shallow, and he could feel the throbbing ache spreading from his core. The pure Aetherium vial he'd stolen from Professor Lillian, last month, should have sustained him—it had felt like it would be enough. But now, it was as if the energy had backfired, igniting within him like a fire he couldn't control.
The pain surged, and his legs buckled as he leaned heavily against the balcony railing, his grip slipping. He was seconds from toppling over when a burst of warmth wrapped around him, holding him steady. Nate blinked, disoriented, realizing he was hovering just above the balcony floor, suspended by a faint, shimmering field of magic.
Chloe stood nearby, one hand extended, her brow furrowed in concentration. She hadn't reached for her CAT device—she'd cast the spell directly, without any visible aid.
Slowly, she lowered him back to his feet, letting the spell dissipate. Her hand dropped, but her gaze stayed on him, laced with concern. "Are you... alright?" she asked, her voice tight, cautious.
Nate steadied himself, forcing another shallow breath as he met her gaze. "Yeah, I think... I'm good now," he managed, though the ache lingered beneath the surface, refusing to fully subside.
Chloe's eyes searched his face, clearly not convinced. "You almost fell," she murmured. "One second you were fine, and then..." She trailed off, her expression tense with worry.
Nate glanced down, trying to shake the fog from his mind. He wanted to brush off her concern, to make light of the situation, but something about the way she'd reacted—the speed, the precision—distracted him. His mind latched onto the details, sifting through the haze of pain. "Wait... you did that spell without your CAT device?" His voice held a hint of surprise, mingling with suspicion.
Chloe's expression shifted, a flicker of discomfort crossing her face. She glanced over her shoulder, as if ensuring they were alone, then looked back at him, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Please... keep that to yourself, Nate," she said softly, her eyes holding a rare vulnerability.
Nate's brow furrowed as he processed her words. He'd seen only a handful of people able to cast magic without the aid of a CAT device—Elysia among them. Innate magic was a taboo, even dangerous topic, something only a select few possessed, and something the academy and the world around it generally kept under tight scrutiny. To see Chloe wielding it so casually was as much of a revelation as it was a mystery.
He nodded slowly, filing the information away as he took another calming breath. "So... you're like Elysia," he murmured, more to himself than to her.
Chloe's gaze sharpened at the mention of Elysia's name, but she held back, her expression guarded. "Let's not make this more complicated than it already is," she replied, a slight edge in her tone. "Are you sure you're, okay?" Her concern slipped back into place, genuine and pressing.
He nodded, forcing a smile. "Just... overexerted, I guess," he replied, trying to downplay it. The fire in his core continued to simmer, an uncomfortable reminder that something within him wasn't right. But he'd be damned if he let her see that.
Chloe's shoulders relaxed slightly, though her gaze stayed on him, studying him closely. "Alright," she said, but there was a note of skepticism in her voice. "Just... don't push yourself too hard."
"Could say the same for you," he retorted, gesturing to her hand. "Instant magic? That's no small feat."
A faint flush coloured Chloe's cheeks as she looked away, folding her arms. "It's... a side effect of certain skills. It's useful, but it takes a lot out of me." She glanced back at him, an unspoken request in her eyes. "But please, don't bring it up with anyone else. Some things are better kept quiet."
He nodded again, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a faint smile. "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."
They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their respective secrets hanging between them. Chloe shifted her gaze back to the view, her expression softening as she took in the sight of the students below.
"Well," she said softly, "I hope you're right. About all this working out."
Nate's gaze drifted back to the bustling academy grounds, the lingering ache in his core now tempered by a strange, warm resolve. "It will," he said quietly, more to himself than to her. And this time, he truly believed it.
The academy grounds buzzed with a chaotic blend of excitement and tension. Everywhere Nate turned, students were caught up in the fervour of the upcoming festival. Laughter and whispers filled the hallways, groups of boys nervously strategized ways to approach girls, and some couples had even been caught sneaking into hidden corners of the academy for more... intimate moments. The air was thick with possibility, an electric mix of thrill and recklessness that seemed to pull everyone along in its current.
But Nate, feeling a gnawing emptiness deep in his core, couldn't stay wrapped up in the energy surrounding him. His hunger was relentless, clawing at him from the inside despite the pure Aetherium vial he'd taken. Frustrated and searching for answers, he slipped out of the academy gates and made his way to the Arundel estate.
The Arundel residence was grand and imposing, an ancient mansion hidden among high walls and towering gates. As Nate approached, a servant escorted him to the vast study where Elysia's father, Lord Matthias Arundel awaited him. He was a composed man, every movement deliberate and calculated, and he greeted Nate with a respectful nod. However, his eyes flickered with unease when he caught sight of Nate's father, who materialized in the corner of the room, a figure of quiet but undeniable menace.
Drakkar's father, the demon ruler of the second most powerful house in Hell, was a figure of pure intimidation. His long silver hair flowed over broad shoulders, and a powerful dragon coiled around him, its dark scales gleaming in the dim light. The dragon's gaze flickered from Nate to Lord Arundel, as if assessing their worth with a single sweep.
Lord Arundel nodded respectfully, addressing them both with caution. "Drakkar. Lord Darian," he began, inclining his head in a gesture of reverence mixed with carefully masked fear. "I understand why you're here."
Darian's eyes narrowed, clearly unimpressed by pleasantries, but he said nothing, allowing Lord Arundel to continue.
"Drakkar," Lord Arundel said, his gaze focusing on Nate with a mixture of sympathy and trepidation, "I've come to understand that your... hunger is not something that can be easily remedied. It's an intrinsic part of your being—a side effect of your nature as a demon. This hunger is yours to bear, whether in this form or any other. No matter what alterations we make to your body, your hunger will always find a way to surface."
Nate listened, jaw clenched, frustration simmering. He thought the Aetherium vial had been a solution, a way to finally quell the endless emptiness gnawing at him, but that hope had quickly turned sour.
Lord Arundel's voice softened, though it held a note of caution. "The Aetherium vial you drank did more harm than good. It damaged your core, tampering with the natural limits placed upon you. In removing your limiter, it has increased your hunger, pushing you further into your demonic nature."
A cold realization settled over Nate. "So... it made things worse?"
Lord Arundel nodded solemnly. "I can reinstate the limiter, but understand, I cannot undo the damage. You'll have to be more vigilant now. The hunger will be harder to control, especially with the added strain on your core."
Drakkar's father, Lord Darian, watched this exchange with disdain, but remained silent, observing Lord Arundel with a calculated gleam in his eyes.
Lord Arundel stepped back, bowing his head slightly. "I will make the necessary preparations to restore your limiter. It will not be a permanent solution, but it should help for a time." He glanced warily at Lord Darian before excusing himself, leaving the two demons alone.
The moment he was gone, Darian's gaze shifted to Nate, his expression hardening into something that bordered on disgust. "Have you had enough of these trivial human games, Drakkar?" he sneered. "Or are you finally ready to return to your true duties?"
Nate met his father's gaze with defiance. "I am taking care of my duties," he replied, his tone cold, though there was an unspoken weight to his words—one that implied his loyalty to Elysia as much as it did his allegiance to his father.
Darian's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening. In a flash, his arm shot forward, striking Nate square in the chest with a force that reverberated through his core. The blow was like fire ripping through him, sending waves of pain radiating outward from his centre, as though his very essence were cracking.
As Nate struggled to catch his breath, Darian leaned in, his voice a low, mocking murmur. "Let us see how long they find you useful when your nature takes over. When you inevitably hurt those, you're so determined to protect." His lips twisted into a cruel smile. "Sooner or later, the humans will fall. And when that time comes, you'll either return to me or find yourself buried alongside them."
Nate held his father's gaze, even though the pain, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing fear. But he could feel the damage—his core, already weakened, now burned with a raw ache that made him feel dangerously close to unravelling.
Darian watched, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "Did you really think consuming that Aetherium vial would help you? Did I not teach you that we can only feed on something truly pure?" His tone dripped with contempt.
Nate managed a strained response, coughing. "The professor said it was pure, so I assumed naturally—"
Darian's lip curled with disgust. "Humans would never keep anything pure Drakkar."
Silence stretched between them, tension thick in the air. After a moment, Darian retrieved a fruit from the folds of his robe, its obsidian skin shimmering darkly, as though hiding a thousand secrets. He tossed it to Nate, who barely managed to catch it, his hands shaking from the residual pain in his core.
"Consume this," Darian commanded. "A fruit from the depths of Hell. It's no cure, but it should be enough to keep that hunger of yours in check while the limiter is in place." His gaze was calculating, cold. "Know that it will scar you—physically and deeper. If the limiter fails, you will feed, and you won't care whom you feed on."
Nate looked down at the fruit, feeling a wave of dread. He knew this fruit; he knew what it meant. His father had torn through countless lives in Hell to obtain even a single piece of this. The unspoken implication—that he was just one of Darian's tools, one that could be discarded just as easily—cut deeper than any words.
Reluctantly, Nate raised the fruit to his lips, biting into its strange, flesh-like surface. A rush of raw, molten energy surged through him, searing a path down his throat and into his core. His skin began to burn as the essence of the fruit coursed through him, leaving a scar across his chest—a dark, jagged line, a painful reminder of his heritage.
Darian watched him, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. "Remember this pain, Drakkar. It's only a taste of what awaits if you continue this foolish path. Eventually, these humans will see you for what you truly are. And when they do, they will fear and hate you just as they should. And you my dear son have grown way too attached and concerned with them. Since when have you love for them? Have you forgotten what they did to us?"
Nate staggered, feeling the burn of the fresh scar across his chest. The pain was agonizing, but he forced himself to stand straight, meeting his father's gaze with a fierce determination.
"No matter what you think, I make my own choices," he said, voice steady despite the pain. "I won't become what you want me to be. And no, I haven't forgotten."
Darian's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light, his voice a low, menacing whisper. "Then let us see how long they find you useful. Sooner or later, your nature will betray you—and when it does, you'll either crawl back to me or burn alongside them."
With that final, mocking glance, Darian vanished, leaving Nate alone in the silence of the room. He staggered, clutching his chest as he struggled to control the volatile energy simmering within him. The pain was intense, but even worse was the reminder that he was bound to his nature, no matter how fiercely he resisted it.
As the agony subsided to a dull ache, he forced his thoughts back to the academy, to Elysia and the friends he'd chosen. Despite his father's threats, Nate would continue to fight. Because his father was wrong—he wasn't just a demon. He was something else. And as long as he could resist, he would decide his own fate, even if it meant standing against Hell itself.