The sky was a canvas of golden glow, deepening into vibrant oranges and fiery reds by the time we finally emerged from the shed.

“How long were we in there?” I asked, squinting against the setting sun.

"We left the library an hour post-luncheon, and with the sunset now upon us, I would estimate that at least five hours have passed," Kaede responded. I nearly choked in disbelief.

“That long?”

“What did you expect?”

Back at the dungeon right after our encounter with Amathaisah, we’d dried ourselves off using magic (of course) and searched the walls for the slump, which was like looking for a needle in a haystack, but had no luck. Our phones— which I’d conveniently forgotten I had—and wrist watches were all on the fritz. Can you believe it? We took a chance on the stairs, which, to our surprise, led us back to the quiet gate that had remained ajar since our entry. I had locked it and spellbindingly erased all evidence of our presence.

Kaede casted his illusion ward once more. We slipped back into the campus building unnoticed. Quiet as shadows, we returned to the library, where our desk was still under the influence of my magic. The same three students were hunched over their books, reeking of sweat and desperation—no one wanted to sit near them, still, thankfully. I waved my hand, feeling a sharp, warm gust as the illusion ward I had placed earlier dispersed. My friends and Niccolo were still slumped in their seats, their heads resting on the table like ostriches hiding from the world.

"Watching them in such a state causes me actual physical pain." Kaede murmured, his tone as flat as his expression.

He was back to his usual unflappable self. “What happened earlier—” I started.

“What hap—” Kaede and I instinctively dove to opposite sides, startled by Maxima’s sudden appearance. “What’s with the dramatics?”

“Don’t sneak up on us like that,” I said, my nerves still a bit frayed.

Kaede looked like he’d just seen a ghost. “Maxi,” he muttered, his voice shaky.

Maxima frowned, puzzled. “What’s wrong with you two—and—” Her gaze shifted, landing on our desk. “What’s going on there?” she asked, pointing at the Powerpuff Girls and Niccolo.

We whipped our heads around to the desk. “I’m conducting a Sleep Experiment,” Kaede quickly explained, casting a sly glance in my direction.

Maxima raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “For?”

“Professor Eiryn’s class.”

“Sleeping spell?”

“Yes.”

“Aren’t you a bit past that stage?”

“My Commencement Ceremony is in two weeks; we’re just doing a review.”

Maxima narrowed her eyes, folding her arms, clearly not buying it. She scrutinized Kaede’s expression, which was as blank as a freshly cleaned mirror.

“Hm. Sounds like a waste of time,” she muttered, turning her attention to me.

“I was also teaching Cici for her future classes,” Kaede added, and Maxima’s eyes pressed on me like she was looking for confirmation. I gave her a sheepish grin and nodded reluctantly.

“I’ll, uh, go wake them up now,” I said, snapping my fingers toward my friends and Niccolo. Instantly, they stirred, groaning. Claude took a moment longer, making my heart leap into my throat. Maxima, alarmed, hurried to his side, shaking him with surprising vigor until he jolted awake, his eyes blinking groggily. Relief washed over me. Was he really that tired?

"Ugh, my neck," Blanche groaned, her face scrunched up in discomfort as she rubbed the back of her neck. She tilted her head to the side, hoping for that satisfying crack that never comes when you really need it.

Jolene stretched and yawned. “Oh my gosh, did we actually study until six?” she asked, glancing out the window as she expertly twisted her hair into a tight bun. As if she hadn’t just been in a situation that should’ve given her a serious crick in the neck.

Niccolo, true to form, woke up like he always did—staring into space like he was trying to remember what planet he was on.

They turned to us, looking like they’d just woken from a century-long slumber, eyes bleary and expressions dazed. “You guys fell asleep while studying hard,” Kaede said, flashing a smile so fake it deserved an award.

“You’ve got plans with your sisters and parents tonight before the lockdown?” Maxima asked Blanche.

Blanche nodded, stretching her arms overhead with a squeaky grunt. “Yeah. My mom and sisters are driving all the way from Santuria,” she said with another yawn. “What about you, Jole’s?”

“Mine’s flying down here too,” Jolene replied. They both stood up in perfect synchrony, gathering their books and notes and stuffing them into their leather handbags.

Maxima, ever the caretaker, helped Claude when she noticed him absentmindedly tapping his bag, still looking like he was ready to clock in for another round of sleep. Meanwhile, Niccolo, with nothing more than a muttered chant, vanished from his seat, taking his stuff with him. Why is it that when I do that, I end up getting called to the Principal’s office?

“Anyone from Volguardsen Veil coming down here?” Jolene asked as she zipped up her bag.

“Not that we know of. They’re all tied up with the stolen Arckwar artifact, but Aunt Shirley’s joining us tonight,” Maxima replied, and I nearly tripped over my own feet whipping my head around to stare at her. “We’re having dinner at Fiascos at 8.”

Kaede groaned, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “I completely forgot about that.”

“That’s a first,” Maxima mumbled, helping Claude finish packing.

"Aunt Shirley? Tonight? Why? When did she say that?” I shot back, a rapid-fire of questions.

“Cici, she called Jairen this morning and passed the message through our private channel,” she replied, her eyes dropping in that exasperated way that screamed, ‘I’m so done with you.’ “Didn’t you check your phone?” she added, eyebrows arched in disbelief.

Blanche snickered, “Classic Cici,” she said with a grin, giving my arm a friendly pat. “I’ll catch you guys later at curfew,” she waved, blew a kiss, and darted out of the library before the crowd got too thick.

“I should head out too,” Jolene said, leaning in to brush her cheek against mine. “Try not to stir up any trouble while you’re out there,” she teased, though her tone carried a note of genuine concern. She hurried off, catching up with Blanche as they exited together.

Maxima and Claude sauntered over, arm in arm. “See ya later, Ci,” Claude said, giving my head a quick pat like I was some kind of well-behaved puppy.

Maxima waved as they left. “I’ll swing by your dorm later, get ready. Aunt Shirley’s picking us up at the admin driveway,” she called out before they vanished, leaving Kaede and I staring after them, the library suddenly feeling much emptier.

“So . . . are you planning to tell Principal Caster about what we discovered?” I asked.

“Me?” he scowled, clearly unsettled by the suggestion.

I sighed deeply, rolling my eyes so hard I almost saw my brain. “I mean ‘we’.” I clarified.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Our options are limited. There's so much beyond our understanding. And most importantly, today’s breakthrough was sparked by one of your dreams.”

I was afraid he was going to say that.

"We need Principal Caster's perspective on this matter."

“Do we really? Can’t we just wing it and figure it out ourselves? I'm an expert at that.” I asked, flashing a goofy, sheepish grin.

He frowned. “No we can't wing it. And yes we do, because it’s about the Aetherial Stone. The stone holds a reservoir of energy potent enough to power an entire continent, but it cannot create life on its own. It can sustain the city indefinitely, but it needs recharging at some point, once the energy is depleted, it becomes a dead star and only Bahthalla’s power can replenish it. If the stone is functioning autonomously all this time creating Amathaisah in the process, then someone must be using dark magic to sustain it, enabling it to generate or restore life.”

“Okay, but what if she wasn’t actually created by the stone but transformed by it?” I suggested with a shrug. “I mean, if I woke up after a century of sleep, I’d probably forget you for a while. She could have been a regular siren or a half-blood, and maybe the Aetherial Stone just . . . altered her magical essence.”

He thought about it for a moment. “That could be a plausible theory.”

“Starcomets have complex structures, right? Didn’t the history books say that some of these rocks were also forged as weapons for Bahthalla’s army against Ourl the Betrayer?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yes, and the stone’s power comes from Bahthalla, but it still can’t create life even if Amathaisah meant otherwise.”

He sounds like a broken record at this point.

“But it can revive, right? Enough power to kickstart a body? Or more?” I pressed. "She could've been dead and revived by the stone, then."

“Yes, it can revive the body, but the soul cannot be resurrected. So what’s the point? Anyone they intend to use the stone on would end up no better than an Infernal. Amathaisah looked and fet nothing of the sort sh—" He halted abruptly, eyes widening. "Azan Shade was a Warlock-Infernal hybrid and the illegitimate son of Azra Black,” he blurted out suddenly. I squinted, leaving me trying to connect the dots.

“Okay . . .” I muttered, feeling like I’d missed the punchline. “What are you getting at?”

“Azan Shade was responsible for releasing the Infernals and the Dreaded Six from Zhaktiria Prison, prior to Adalhard Volguardsen's intervention seven years later. Azan fled to Zhaktiria, a realm that no Warlock of Bahthalla could enter ever, and was rumored to have perished there at the hands of the GateKeeper . . . and . . . you’re familiar with what followed, right?”

My mouth formed an ‘o’ as I pieced it together. “And if someone dies in Zhaktiria, their soul is trapped there forever . . . You’re suggesting the Infernals, having stolen the stone, are planning to use it to resurrect Azan, whose body and soul are still there?” I asked. Kaede didn’t directly answer but seemed to be lost in another thought. “But . . . are we forgetting that Amathaisah said the stone was stolen a hundred years ago? So either it was hidden away safely somewhere in Arckwar Academy and the Infernals found it, or they were just bluffing.” And that it was stolen by an Abrahall too.

Kaede snapped his head toward me. “Bluffing? You think they might have entered Amathaisah’s chamber, attempted to steal the stone, discovered it wasn’t there, and staged the theft to create a panic? And now the Academy and Astranea are in a state of silent turmoil, believing the Infernals have the stone when it was never there in the first place?”

I nodded as a sharp hiss cut through the silence of the library. I flinched and turned to see the front library desk where Ms. Kovo stood—a short, enigmatic figure draped in shadows, her dark skin contrasting with the towering cactus-like spire of her blond hair. Her monolid gaze was piercing, and her orange-rust eyes seemed to burn through us like searing lasers. “The library will close in five minutes. I advise you to head back to your dorms or wherever you need to be before the lockdown,” she intoned, her voice thick and steely that could slice through steel.

Kaede gave a polite nod and a slight bow, “We apologize, Ms. Kovo, for our oversight.”

Ms. Kovo gave a curt nod and a sidelong grin. “Have a good night, Young Volguardsens,” she said, her tone laced with unspoken warnings. Kaede and I hastily gathered our belongings and made a swift exit from the library, plunging into the dimly lit hall. The sun had fully set.

“This is insane,” Kaede muttered as we half-ran down the hall.

“They’re Infernals,” I replied, dodging around a corner. “They wouldn’t really pass up the chance to spread fear if they had it. And now, they have.”

“But now that we know the truth, it’s crucial that we bring this to Principal Caster,” he insisted. I grabbed his arm stopping in the middle of the hall, he looked at me expectantly. “What’s the matter? Do you disagree?”

“It’s not that I disagree,” I said carefully, “but how certain are we that Principal Caster isn’t already aware of the truth?”

Kaede's brow furrowed in thought. "Then . . .” he hesitated. “I would believe he’s keeping everyone in the dark for our protection.”

Of course you would. Besides our Grandfather, your folks, and your sister, Principal Caster is basically one of your personal heroes.

“And if he isn’t aware, then we still have to inform him,” I mumbled, stalling. "Isn't there any other way?"

"No. We both have to do it. You were the one who summoned the siren. I didn’t even know you knew her.”

“I . . . didn’t.” I didn't until that very moment.

“She might have appeared in your dream. Perhaps you simply recalled only that moment,” he suggested with a gentle smile. “Cici, nothing is ever a coincidence. You should know, I’ve always believed in your gift for dreams and foresight.”

“Even when you, Maxima, and I ended up at the Domage Well at Abrahall?”

“Yes. I believe there’s a reason why we ended down there, as well,” he said.

“Or that time in Castle Welbelova, when we found ourselves at the crypt of Armoria?”

He gulped, shivered, and squeezed his eyes shut, nodding with a grimace. “Y-yes . . . even that,” he said reluctantly.

I chuckled. Out of the three of us, he was the one who got seriously spooked about that place.

“Despite how daunting that place was, I was certain it served a purpose . . . even if we didn’t fully understand it,” he added, chuckling lightly.

“If we go to Principal Caster now, he’ll know what we’ve done,” I said.

He grinned. “He won’t touch me. My records are spotless—he wouldn’t dare sully them.” His face shifted into a cocky smirk as he leaned in. “As for you, you’re in big trouble, cousin,” he teased, ruffling my hair and walking off.

What-wait-traitor! Who's abandoning who now?!

I groaned. “Kaede!” I called, trying to catch up. He’s right! I'm dead.

“vortira,” he chanted, and his body shimmered like fine silk before swirling upwards and vanishing. Oh great.

I was left alone in the now completely empty hall,with only the wind whispering through the open windows for company. I sighed heavily and trudged back to the dorms.

Walking back along the student pathway, I was bathed in the glow of the floating orb lights lining the way with such grand intervals that they made it seem as though the sun was rising anew with every step. The warm, bright illumination created a comforting atmosphere. Out on the Circle, a group of upper-year students had gathered, though the lights there remained dim. I spotted Raiver among his Pack Fellowship, his figure mingling with the others. With a quick glance, I veered toward the girl’s dormitories, mindful that I had only an hour to prepare for dinner.

Among my aunts, Aunt Shirley is the solitary figure working in Arckwar City, while the others are Warlock Physicians: three in Devendria across the Arck River and one in Shadowscar. Dressing well was my way of showing Aunt Shirley that I was looking after myself and not descending into total disaster. She and my mother are close, frequently exchanging letters through messenger birds—each time I’m summoned to the counselor’s quarters, a red limosa lapponica always soars east from the Principal’s Tower. Every single time. I’ve even seen her feed the bird, so I’m certain she’s dispatching messages to either my mother or her husband. And what would my Uncle Benedict do with news about me?

As I reached the entrance to my dorm building, a blue petal caught my eye. The glass doors allowed a glimpse inside, revealing an empty lobby and student lounge. The query window from the Dorm Mother’s Station was reflecting flashing lights, probably indicating she was glued to her favorite dinner-time game show. I pulled out my Identification Card and placed the Astranean Runic Code over the glass. The door hummed and slid open automatically. As I stepped inside, a refreshing breeze carried the sweet, powdery scent of Azulaeth—hyacinthus orientalis—reminiscent of spring in bloom. I glanced back to see the blue petal, now inside, had curled and turned black as the door closed behind me. I cautiously approached it and crouched to inspect it when a voice sliced through the air.

“What are you doing?” came the nasally, high-pitched voice I’d recognize anywhere. Agnes Colgrasse stood before me, her dramatic brown eyes glittering with sequins. “Hoping the ground will finally do us all a favor and swallow you up?” she chuckled. Her freshly styled salmon hair and tanned skin sharply contrasted with her daring high-cut, embellished clubbing dress with bright neon chunky heels. Our last night to embrace the great outdoors before the lockdown and they chose to go out clubbing? Classic Agnes. Although I could certainly use a bit of a party myself, though not necessarily the kind they're gearing up for.

Agnes with her high-domed forehead, shared the same class as Jolene, her ultimate nemesis—a rivalry not to be taken lightly. She often squared off with Jolene, who always emerged victorious, but when Agnes and her friends exhausted their retorts, they redirected their barbs toward me. amusing most of the time, even if I was the target.

I ignored her comment and sidestepped past her, preferring not to engage.

She scoffed. “You’re so bizarre. It's a mystery to me why anyone would want to be friends with you.” Her heels clicked menacingly on the tiled floor as her two friends, Eunice and Shannon, exited the lift to join her, both mirroring Agnes’s fashion sense as though they’d raided the same time-traveling thrift store.

“Hi, Sissy,” Eunice, a green doe eyed girl with ashen blond hair, greeted me with a wave and a grin. She’s the nicest of the trio, but that’s only because she’s got a thing for Kaede. Not that I ever mentioned her to him—Kaede might actually choke on his lunch if I did.

Shannon, another Agnes copycat, linked arm-in-arm with Eunice, tugged her close with a snarky laugh. “Euny, watch out—don’t want to attract any evil spirits,” she cackled, with Eunice joining in the laughter.

I stood by the lift, not far from the entrance, waiting for it to descend once more. Their conversation abruptly halted. “Maybe if she didn’t dress like she’s stuck in a time warp, she might actually get invited to parties,” Agnes remarked.

Nice of them to be so concerned.

“Tell me about it,” Shannon snorted in agreement.

Seriously? I’m dressed normally—loose-fit gray polo, a flowery skirt that falls just above my ankles, with enough room to squat, and dark brown leather boots. In retrospect, this outfit might have looked pretty badass in the dungeon and Amathaisah’s chamber earlier today. I almost wish I’d recorded it. There’s something uniquely thrilling about embarking on adventures in a long skirt; it might just be my new secret signature.

A rush of air behind me signaled they were already out the door. I sighed, checked to make sure they were gone, then returned to the entrance, where the now lifeless blue petal lay undisturbed, reduced to crushed chalk. Just as I was about to touch it, the door to the Dorm Mother’s Station boomed open. I rushed to the lift, hit the button, and stepped inside as soon as the doors opened.

It wasn’t that I was afraid of her, but she does have a knack for being downright terrifying.

*****************************************************************

FIASCOS STEAKHOUSE

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8:18 PM

Nestled along the bustling Abynth Street, wedged between a quaint pastry shop and a meticulously crafted tailor shop, stands Fiascos Steakhouse—a large, modern establishment with an understated facade that subtly draws attention. The front, a minimalist expanse of large fiberglass panels, is discreet yet eye-catching, giving no clue about the cozy, inviting world within. Stepping inside, you're greeted by the rich, mouthwatering aroma of perfectly grilled steaks, mingling with the subtle scent of spices and fresh herbs. The decor is a charming mix of vintage and modern—polished wooden floors meet exposed brick walls, with industrial light fixtures hanging over rustic wooden tables, casting a warm, golden glow.

Astranea, a hidden continent tucked away in the southeastern part of the world, deep in the Pacific, stands as the most diverse among the Chamber Domes of the Majestean Empire. It houses all four clans along with humans from Mortallum, who are mated to vampires, werewolves, and Gifteds. Arckwar, the largest city on the continent, thrives with life and unity. Even under threat.

Fiascos Steakhouse is just a ten-minute drive from Arckwar Academy, making it a convenient place to eat out. Tonight, I noticed the light was dimmer, creating a cozier yet lively ambiance. With news of the academy lockdown spreading, many city folks came to offer their support. Arckwar City holds to the belief that no one stands alone—everyone here knows each other by name and reputation. As we walked through the door, the staff, the manager busy attending to customers, and the city folk all turned to greet Aunt Shirley and, naturally, us. I received a few encouraging pats from the older women, though I’m not exactly a standout name in the city like Jairen or Kaede, so I didn’t get bombarded with questions about school or family. Slipping past them to our table was a breeze. The place buzzed with chatter, sizzling meat, and clinking silverware.

We sat near the massive glass windows, offering a more interesting view than the usual crowd. The streets outside seemed busier than usual—not that I’m a Fiascos regular, but I couldn’t help but notice. Maxima, Kaede, Pan, and Oxford joined me at the table soon after, followed by Jairen, Niccolo, and Aunt Shirley. She reserved us a round seating arrangement where everyone could face each other. My 13-year-old sister, Pandora, took the seat next to me. I noticed her dirty blonde hair sparkling with a strange shimmer, so I leaned in to examine it more closely.

"What’s that? An accessory?" I asked, reaching to touch it, but she slapped my hand away, her round teal-gray eyes narrowing at me.

“Yes, it’s hair tinsel. One of my friends from Mortallum did it for me,” she grinned, radiating pride. She ran her fingers through her hair and gave it a little wiggle. It shimmered, catching the light. Cute, but you know, I could probably do that with magic too.

“That’s cute. But did you have to slap me?” I asked, still smiling threateningly at her.

She shrugged. “Sah-ree,” she replied, her voice so light and airy that I couldn’t tell if she meant it or not. I just shook my head in disbelief.

I turned to Niccolo, who sat across from me, squeezed between Kaede and Jairen. My face scrunched up at the sight of his hair. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but... “Why is your hair so . . . wet?” Maxima asked, tilting her head with an inscrutable expression toward Niccolo.

He tilted his head back and raised an eyebrow like he was about to drop some life-changing wisdom. “Well, it’s a formal dinner, so I wanted to look manly and mature.” Aging magic does that too. His dark raven hair slicked back so flat you could practically see the shape of his head. “Like Jairen,” he added, nodding toward Jairen, who was grinning with way too much confidence.

Coincidentally, Jairen sported a similar style, except his bright blond hair was fluffier on top, with a few strands falling to his cheeks.

“It’s not even the same hairstyle,” Maxima pointed out, and I couldn’t help but snicker.

“Didn’t you mean Count Dracula?” Pan chimed in dryly.

Niccolo scowled, “Well, at least I’m not out here looking like a disco ball,” he shot back.

“Better than looking like a well-oiled raccoon.”

“Whoa, guys, enough,” Jairen intervened, but Pan turned her sharp gaze on him. By this time our table was already a mess of giggles.

“That bright red leather jacket makes you look like a human fire hydrant,” Pan shot back, and Maxima and I ducked down, laughing.

“It does,” Maxima squeaked next to me, still cackling.

Jairen noticed Niccolo joining in the laughter, “Hey, I was trying to help you,” he defended, looking genuinely confused. “What did I do?” he huffed.

Aunt Shirley cleared her throat and flashed a knowing smile, catching our attention just before things could get too intellectually brutal. We all fell silent. I straightened up and noticed Pan giving me a look. “What? You know I couldn’t care less about your fashion critique,” I said, deadpan.

She gave me a half-grin. “You . . . actually look pretty tonight,” she whispered, her usual soft and light tone making it hard to tell if she was being sincere or just messing with me. I paid it no mind and turned back to Aunt Shirley.

“Thank you for quieting down,” Aunt Shirley began, her voice deep and soothing. “And for agreeing to join me for dinner tonight. It’s been ages since we’ve all been in the same room.” she added with a warm smile.

“Does seeing Cici every day in the Principal’s Office count?” Niccolo teased, and I shot him a death glare. He stuck his tongue out, eliciting chuckles from my cousins.

Aunt Shirley chuckled, clearly entertained. “No, it doesn’t,” she winked at me, prompting a grin.

“Cheap shot,” Maxima laughed, playfully nudging my arm.

“So let’s savor this evening, our final chance to enjoy the outdoors before the academy’s lockdown for the week,” Aunt Shirley said, her laughter a soft, inviting sound.

“Hear, hear,” Jairen chimed in, raising his glass.

The server breezed in and handed us the menu catalogs when an unfamiliar scent drifted through the air, a peculiar anomaly amidst the steakhouse’s rich, meaty aroma. I slowly turned my head with all the grace of a robot, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Returning to the menu, I heard the entrance door chime. Bad move. I made a grave error of glancing up to see the new arrivals, and locking eyes with Raiver, causing a jolt of tension that made me avert my gaze so abruptly I half-expected my eyes to pop out of their sockets.

Jairen let out an exaggerated groan, “Great, the Wolfies have arrived,” he muttered, sinking back into his seat with a dramatic slump.

“Jairen,” Aunt Shirley chided with a warning tone.

Raiver and his entourage approached our table, pausing respectfully by Aunt Shirley’s side. He offered a respectful bow. “Good evening, Vice Principal Shirlyn,” he greeted. It was completely different from the demanding one he’d used just this morning in Hunter's Forest. My arm hairs practically saluted him, and my heart was having a heavy workout of its own. I buried my face deeper into the menu as if it might actually swallow me whole.

“Hello, Mr. Thormortigan. What brings you and your fellowship here?” Aunt Shirley inquired. A chorus of greetings followed from his group.

“Likely for the same reason as your kin, Ms.—enjoying one final meal outdoors, before the lockdown,” Raiver responded. Each word seemed to reverberate in my stomach, a hard, persistent hum. Stay calm, Legacie.

I felt Maxima’s knee nudge mine, and caught her trying to suppress a grin that was clearly on the verge of breaking into a laugh. Fantastic! Now, apart from Kaede, Maxima, and Niccolo, everyone will know I have a crush on him!

“I thought you were on patrol tonight?” Aunt Shirley asked.

“Master Zaelor has dispatched senior Scouts and Hunters across Arckwar Campuses and granted us the night off. We’ll resume Student Watch tomorrow,” Raiver explained.

“Well, it’s lovely to have you and your fellowship together,” Aunt Shirley said with a smile. “But don’t you have any relatives coming?”

“None, I’m afraid. They’re all occupied with the Infernal Mission."

“Oh, I see. They may indeed benefit from your Pack’s influence during this time,” Aunt Shirley noted.

Niccolo turned to Jairen, “Aren’t you on Student Watch tomorrow too?” he asked. Jairen nodded, casting a sideways glance at Raiver, and the air thickened with unspoken tension. Were they preparing for a silent showdown?

The longstanding feud between Jairen Roxworth and Raiver Thormortigan began over something as trivial as a kickball. Yes, you heard me right—a kickball. I won’t bore you with the details, but let’s just say Jairen has never been one to take losing lightly, especially when he’s used to having the upper hand, and has been the family’s golden boy before Kaede arrived on the scene. Now he's the senior golden boy. A bit self-righteous but otherwise harmless enough and an all-around decent brother and cousin. Still, he can get a bit twitchy, especially when there's competition involved. And the cousin sitting next to me? That’s the milder version of him.

Aunt Shirley shook her head and summoned the server, who materialized beside us as if conjured. She leaned in with a teasing grin, “Order up, kids. Might take a while,” she whispered. We handed over our orders, and as the server maneuvered around us, Jairen suddenly stood up and confronted Raiver. “Was the infiltrator caught at your end?” he demanded. The server, clearly baffled, turned to Niccolo, who sat next to Jairen, scribbling what I assumed was Jairen's meal order on his pad.

Raiver shifted uncomfortably. Despite being a few inches taller, Jairen’s buff physique made him look like he could bench press a small dragon. An infiltrator, though? Really?

Aunt Shirley reached out, gently placing her hand on Jairen’s arm. “Jairen,” she warned softly.

Raiver’s eyes locked with Jairen’s. “This isn't the place to discuss such matters,” he said, his voice taking on a tone that seemed to echo in my head.

Jairen’s grin widened. “The Infernals entered Warlock Castle through Evergrass to Hunter’s Forest—your lands first, then ours. I still stand by my suspicion, as I said at the College Board, that a member of your fellowship might have allowed them entry,” he said, his tone sharp. "Weren't yours on duty last night?"

The air grew thick with tension, and I sensed the Lycora—the werewolf energy—emanating from Raiver and his pack, swirling in misty hues. Raiver’s aura was a deep, rich gold.

“Do not accuse my kin of today’s events. One of my scouts was heavily poisoned by the Infernal. My wolves defended our lands and yours bravely,” Raiver said, his gaze darkening.

The scene had attracted a fair share of curious onlookers. Aunt Shirley stood between them, her presence commanding respect. “Jairen, sit down. This family doesn’t blame things beyond our control.” She pressed Jairen’s shoulder, and he sat. She then faced Raiver. “I apologize. My family is loud, opinionated, and analytical, but that’s no excuse to blame you or your kin for what had happened.”

Jairen opened his mouth to protest, but one look from Aunt Shirley silenced him.

Raiver’s Lycora faded. “My apologies too, Vice Principal. We’re working to resolve the issue, but we’re still facing difficulties with one of my fellows.”

She smiled kindly. “No worries. Caster will understand. I hope Abe recovers soon.” She patted his arm, and Raiver bowed slightly.

“We should head to our table. I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” he said, his eyes flicking to me briefly. I looked out the window, pretending not to notice until he and his fellowship were gone.

Aunt Shirley settled back into her chair, shooting Jairen a look that could wither flowers. “That was very unnecessary, Jai,” she said, her tone dripping with disapproval.

Jairen let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t—”

“You know it wasn’t their fault,” Aunt Shirley interrupted, her tone firm.

“If they’d just accepted the new Protection Ward we proposed for Evergrass Woods, no one would have dared to infiltrate them,” he hissed under his breath.

“That’s not for us to decide,” Aunt Shirley countered, her voice calm yet resolute. “Evergrass holds its connection to Elluna—”

“A celestial guardian who doesn’t deserve the same reverence as Bahthalla,” Jairen snapped, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“Jairen.” Aunt Shirley’s tone snapped with authority. “It is their sacred tradition, just as Bahthalla is ours.”

“Elluna may be a guardian, appointed by Bahthalla, but she is not to be worshiped,” Jairen insisted, his words firm as stone.

I glanced over at the table where Raiver and his fellowship sat. Despite their keen hearing, they didn’t seem to catch a word of the tense exchange. I could only guess Aunt Shirley had thrown up a subtle concealment ward around our table to keep the conversation from reaching the Wolves’ ears.

Aunt Shirley sighed, finally backing down a bit, “We don’t have that right, Jairen. Elluna is a figure in their history, and it’s not our place to challenge that. Only they can make that decision.”

And that’s when it hit me—Kaede’s got the same stubborn streak as Jairen.

The server arrived just in time with our food(thankfully), I dove into my meal before Jairen could serve up another helping of awkwardness. We spent the next hour eating—or trying to, between the heavy banter and storytelling, each more ridiculous than the last. By the time we finally finished, we were all leaning back, basking in that post-meal bliss. Well, I know I was. I feel like I could just float away.

“That was . . . divine,” Niccolo sighed, a grin spreading across his face. “Ugh, I’m going to miss this place,” he added with a dramatic whine.

“We’re only on lockdown for a week, don’t be so dramatic,” Pan rolled her eyes, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Jairen, still dabbing sweat from his forehead, looked over at Kaede with a mix of disbelief and betrayal. “Why’d you order that for me, Nicki? That was like, lava in a dish!” he complained, cheeks flushed redder than a tomato.

Niccolo shrugged. "I thought it'd suit you and make you more intense," he said, with determined eyes. He then pointed at Kaede, "And he told me to write it down," he added.

Jairen snapped his eyes at Kaede, "You?"

Kaede shrugged, completely unfazed. “You were having such a romantic moment with the Wolf. I didn’t want to interrupt, so I just ordered whatever my finger landed on,” he said, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips and we all burst out laughing.

“You didn’t even read the label?” Jairen playfully tossed his napkin at Kaede, who casually disintegrated it before it could reach him. Jairen gasped. “Heyy, no magic outdoors!” he warned, but Kaede just shrugged again.

“I’m a licensed Grade O,” he shot back, as if that single statement explained everything. And honestly, it kind of did. Grade O is the pinnacle of spellcrafting mastery, with sub-levels O1 and O2 marking the elite echelons within Majestean Law's academic institutions. Reaching this level before beginning collegiate studies places Kaede among the elite Warlocks, nearly on par with Jairen, who stands two levels higher. Kaede could have graduated a year ago but chose to take the traditional academic route and complete his courses. Moreover, Grade O permits magic use off-campus and is mandatory for collegiate graduation rites under Majestean Law.

Jairen’s shoulders slumped. “Oh right, I forgot.”

“Well, cousin,” Pandora said with a cheeky grin, “the spicy look really suits you.”

It took Jairen a moment to catch on to the joke, but when he did, we erupted into laughter. In retaliation, he began hurling napkins at us, sparking a new round of playful chaos.

The familiar scent of spring from the dorm earlier teased my nose once more. Aunt Shirley rose from her seat, offering a bright smile. “I’ll settle the bill at the counter on my way to the lavatory. Feel free to order desserts to-go if you like,” she said. “We need to head back in an hour,” she reminded us before heading off.

“Alright, desserts!” Jairen declared, stretching like he was about to lift a small dragon. “Anyone want one?” He barely had to ask before Niccolo and Oxford were already flocking over to him with their orders.

“And Cici, how obvious were you?” Pan’s sharp tone cut through the chatter, making me snap my head in her direction.

“Huh?”

She raised an eyebrow. “The wolf earlier. Do you have a crush on him?” she asked bluntly, causing me to clench my fist under the table and cast an additional concealment ward around us. “Pan!” I protested, my voice barely above a whisper.

She merely smirked in response.

“You have a crush on a werewolf?” Oxford’s voice dripped with disbelief.

Jairen’s eyes widened, and his jaw nearly hit the floor. “What—the—Legacie?!”

“I don't—” I began, but Oxford interrupted with a dramatic gag. “I think I’m gonna be sick,” he muttered, staggering back to his seat like a faint-hearted patient.

“Oh, come on, guys! It’s just a crush. It's no big deal!” Maxima jumped to my defense, as if saying it was no big deal would erase my embarrassment now.

Jairen dramatically clasped his head as though on the verge of a mental breakdown. “My cousin? Likes a dog? My very own blood??”

Are we really doing this again?! Why is everyone so dramatic? And did he just call Raiver a dog?

“My very own sister,” Pandora added, shaking her head disapprovingly. “What would Mother and Father think?”

“I think they’d probably disown her if they found out,” Niccolo chimed in, earning a thrown table napkin from Maxima.

“That’s not funny, Nicki!” Maxima snapped. I wouldn't mind.

“I’m surrounded by children,” Kaede muttered, looking like he’d just been asked to babysit a circus. We weren’t too far off from that description.

Jairen leaned over the table, hands planted firmly, and turned to Kaede. “Kaede, how could you let this happen? A wolf? Wait which one?”

Kaede, taken aback, spun to face him, astonished. “Me?”

“Cousin,” Niccolo said, placing a hand on Jairen’s shoulder. “Jai, you shouldn’t blame Kaede for my sister’s actions. Clearly, big sister’s priorities are a bit skewed.”

I groaned and buried my face in my hands. Why do I even bother?

“Niccolo, shut up,” Maxima grumbled.

“Maxi, don’t encourage her,” Jairen added. "But which one?"

“I’m not disagreeing with anyone, but—” Pandora paused, drawing my gaze. “Seriously, you could’ve done better,” she said nonchalantly. I couldn’t tell if it was an insult or if she had too high an opinion of me. I mean, I’m the one who’s way out of Raiver's league.

Why are my younger siblings talking back to me? Have I been too lenient?

“Ugh, you guys are so insensitive. I thought you were going to get desserts?” Maxima shot back, trying to steer the conversation away, but the insults kept coming.

“How are we supposed to handle this information?!” Jairen’s voice was a frenzied outburst.

"Maybe by not making a mountain of a molehill?" I muttered.

"And, which one?!"

Oxford’s retching and hurling noises continued unabated, Pan glared with evident disgust, and Niccolo and Jairen were having a serious discussion as if strategizing for an upcoming Clan War. "Who is it?" Despite the chaos, I couldn’t help but find the scene slightly amusing. Honestly, I was glad I’d cast that concealment spell. Though we attracted puzzled and curious glances, at least our conversation remained unintelligible to outsiders.

“That’s it. I’m telling Atlas,” Niccolo declared with resolute determination, slamming his hand on the table.

My body stiffened and my mouth fell open. He wouldn’t dare!

“You’ll have my support on that, cuz,” Jairen added, backing him up. “At least that’s one cousin who’d put some sense into her.”

“Count me in!” Oxford chimed in, taking a stand.

“I’m seriously done with you guys!” Maxima heaved.

“I have yet to witness a family dinner marked by anything resembling peace and harmony,” Kaede muttered, cutting through the commotion. “Until then . . . I give up.”

"But which one? There was like twelve of them!"

I clenched my teeth in frustration, on the verge of unleashing a magical outburst to restore some order, when outside, across the street, a woman in a deep sea blue gilded day dress appeared, strikingly out of place in this century. Her large hat obscured most of her face and neck, adorned with blue flowers like a living vase. More blue petals cascaded from her high lace neckline, down her bustline, puff sleeves, corset, and bell-shaped skirt, trailing behind her and concealing her feet. White gloves completed her outfit.

Something brushed against my knuckles. I glanced down to find a blue petal resting on my hand—the same one I’d seen at the dorm entrance. I picked it up, surprised by its thickness and rough texture. When I looked back at the woman, she plucked a petal from her skirt and blew it gently toward me, as if instructing me to do the same.

Did you have to wear such an enormous hat? I couldn’t make out her face.

Without thinking, I mimicked her and blew the petal. “Cici, what are you doing, blowing like that?” Maxima’s voice asked, but it sounded distant. I stood, watching the petal float through the glass, cross the street, and land at the woman’s feet.

“Cici, what’s the matter?” Maxima’s voice grew fainter, as did everyone else’s, as the woman picked up the petal. Small lines began tracing across the window panels as if someone was drawing abstract art on them.

Was she writing something?

She crushed the petal in her hand with a deliberate grace, curtsied, then unfurled an umbrella I hadn’t even noticed she had. With that, she walked away, leaving me standing there, staring after her. A silent vibration pulled my attention to the windows. The lines on the glass began to shift and intertwine, forming a pattern that teased the edges of my memory, a tantalizing memory I couldn’t quite grasp. At the same time, faint tinkling sounds and a soft crunching began to fill the air, growing steadily louder.

“Cici, are you alright?” Jairen’s voice broke through the haze. “Fine, we may have overplayed it, but only because we're concerned.”

“Look at the glass—can’t you see it?” I murmured, my eyes glued to the window.

“What? The window? It’s just a window, Ci” Jairen replied. No it's not. It's . . . .

“Cici, what’s wrong?” Kaede’s voice was laced with concern. I'm trying to figure that out. It's like someone's stepping on glass.

“Hey, did you guys order desserts yet?” Aunt Shirley’s voice called out, but it barely registered. That sound, is revolting.

I need to go into Vaultrove. I need to think. The noise—it’s getting louder. Heavier. Sharper. The crunching, the tinkling—sharper, faster, heavier, louder, crushing. snapping. crunching. tinkling. screaming. like a thousand children screaming in my head. The glass isn’t mapping anymore—it’s breaking.

“Get down,” I whispered, my voice trembling. Suddenly, the noise ceased, and I yanked Pandora down beside me just as the glass window exploded with a violent roar, sending shards flying into the steakhouse. Screams echoed all around us. I threw myself over Pandora, shielding her from the relentless shower of glass. We scrambled under the table, covering her ears and pulling Niccolo and Oxford close. Maxima’s screams were muffled as Kaede tried to shield her, and Jairen was trying to cast a protective Veil, but the constant barrage of glass made it impossible. Every time it hit the ground, something solid and cold, another explosion would follow, shattering the fragments into even smaller pieces.

This wasn’t just any magic. This was cursed. Dark magic.

The cacophony of screams and glass explosions filled my ears, a relentless assault that felt like a migraine on steroids. For what seemed like an eternity, the chaos raged on until, finally, the noise began to die down. The glass, once shattering in a relentless bombardment, had been reduced to mere dust settling around us in a grim carpet of destruction. An eerie stillness followed, with no one daring to move from their hiding spots—behind chairs, tables, and the counter. It was as if time itself had paused in the wake of the destruction.

Then, a soft tap on our table broke the silence. “Children?” Aunt Shirley’s voice came through, calm and reassuring. “Come out, it’s safe,” she urged. We brushed the dust from ourselves and turned to face each other. Pandora was sobbing uncontrollably, clinging to me. I handed her over to Niccolo, who was fighting back his own tears but managed to scoop her up, protectively.

“Cici, your ears,” Niccolo said, his voice trembling.

“It’s just blood,” I replied, feeling the cold liquid trickling from my ear.

Outside, I saw the wolves making a hurried exit from the establishment. The wolf civilians, too, began to shift, revealing their fanged forms. Warlocks, Vampires and a few Gifteds, assisted the wounded humans gently, guiding them out of the steakhouse. I noticed Raiver’s wolf form standing on a glass panel directly across from us. His gaze met mine, and my racing heart suddenly found a sense of calm. I was mesmerized by his eyes, unable to look away. The only sounds I could hear were my own breaths and his low, guttural growl reverberating through the air.

‘Are you okay?’ I thought toward him. His ears seemed to twitch in response. He took up almost the entire space of a single glass panel, and I saw scratches marring his fur. I reached out instinctively to heal him but hesitated, remembering their regenerative powers. Instead, I withdrew.

Aunt Shirley approached Raiver, a golden halo-like string appearing on his forehead. “We tried shifting, but the glass’s fury was too great,” his wolf guardian spoke, his tone icy, deep and calm.

“It’s beyond our control. Run to the Academy and report this incident. I’ll summon the Fyre Griffins to patrol here and the neighboring streets. Stay vigilant,” she ordered. With a final glance, Raiver sprinted toward Arckwar Academy. His fellowship pack stayed behind and scattered through the streets.

“I’ll patrol for now,” Jairen announced, but Maxima grabbed his arm before he could head out the door.

“You can’t go alone,” she said, her voice wavering.

Jairen placed a reassuring hand on her arm. “I’ll be fine,” he said, then turned to Kaede. “Get them back to the Academy safely and keep a close watch,” he instructed. Kaede nodded in agreement.

“Jai,” Maxima whimpered, and Jairen pulled her into a comforting embrace, planting a kiss on her head.

“Go with them now. You’ll be safer at the Academy.” he urged, summoning his magus blade—the scythe—and vanishing through the door.

Aunt Shirley turned to us as Kaede opened a portal to the school. “Girls, head to Principal Caster’s office. I’ll join you there.” Maxima and I nodded in response.

“We’re set. Let’s go,” Kaede said, his white wooden door swinging open to reveal the familiar halls of Warlock Castle. I clutched Maxima’s hand tightly as she leaned on me, and we followed Kaede and Oxford through the portal, trailing behind my siblings. Before stepping through, I cast one last, lingering glance at the wreckage.

Just as Grammy Lorace had foretold.

They’re coming for me.