Shadows of Change (Arcanum Academy #1)

45. Kaia

This morning I woke on a pile of cushions, still in my dress from the ball and an ache in my chest that I can’t seem to shake. The air hums with residual energy, each breath thick with the weight of magic—an electric, thrumming force that tingles against my skin and pulls at the edges of my awareness, as if trying to whisper secrets I can’t hear. My shadows coil restlessly at my feet as I pace the length of the common room, their movements reflecting the chaos in my mind. Finn's usual flippant remarks have been conspicuously absent, and even Mouse seems subdued, perched on the arm of a chair with his violet eyes tracking my every move.

"They're trying to tell us something," I say aloud, more to myself than to the others. "But I can't make sense of it."

"You're not supposed to yet," Malrik replies, his voice low but steady. He's leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, his silver eyes fixed on me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle. There's a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze—unease, or perhaps a knowledge he's not ready to share. "It's not a message for your mind; it's for your magic."

"Great," I mutter, running my fingers over the necklace at my throat. Its warmth pulses in time with my heartbeat, a steady reminder of its presence—and its secrets.

"What did you see in the dreams?" Aspen asks from his spot near the window. His voice is calm, but there's a sharpness in his gaze as he watches me.

I hesitate, the fragmented images still swirling in my mind like smoke. "Wings," I finally say. "Massive wings made of shadow and starlight. They kept forming patterns—constellations, I guess—but I couldn't read them. It was like trying to remember something I’ve forgotten."

Finn, sprawled across the couch, sits up straighter. "So, your shadows are trying to enroll you in celestial cartography? Sounds fun." His grin fades slightly as he glances at Malrik's glare, the humor a thin shield against the palpable tension in the room. "Not that anyone here appreciates my stellar wit," he adds, softer now.

"It's not a joke," Malrik snaps, his tone cutting. "Those constellations appeared at the ball. Her shadows created them when—"

"When Darian touched me," I finish quietly, the memory sending a shiver down my spine. "And now they're in my dreams."

"But what if they're not dreams," Aspen says. "What if they’re memories?"

The room goes silent, the weight of his words settling heavily over us. My fingers tighten around the necklace as my shadows ripple in agitation, their movements erratic and sharp.

"Memories of what?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Of who you are," Malrik replies. "And what you're meant to become."

The door bursts open, breaking the tense stillness. Torric strides in with his usual aggressive energy, his fire rune faintly glowing. "What's with the secret meeting? And why does it feel like the air's about to explode?"

Aspen rolls his eyes at the way his brother barges in. "The magical energy in here is... unusual," he says, his gaze sweeping settling on me once again. "Something's shifting."

"Yeah," Finn quips, "Kaia’s shadows are doing interpretive dance again."

"Focus," Malrik snaps, his irritation bubbling to the surface. "Aspen, did you find anything in the texts?"

Aspen nods, pulling a worn leather-bound book from his bag. The edges are frayed, and the leather is cracked with age, its surface etched with faint, arcane symbols. "I found references to stellar magic being used as a form of communication." Like a language written in light and shadow. But the details—how it worked, who used it—those were in the missing pages."

"Torn out," Torric growls. "Let me guess, recently?"

Aspen nods. "And if I had to bet, I'd say Thorne or Darian had something to do with it. Whatever was on those pages, it was important enough to hide. If they’ve been studying this for years, they might already know more than we realize. We’re playing catch-up."

The necklace at my throat flares hot, sending a wave of searing warmth through my chest. My shadows respond instantly, surging upward like a living tide, their movements fluid yet deliberate. They spiral and weave through the air, forming intricate patterns that pulse with energy, each twist and ripple resonating with the heavy hum of magic that thickens the room. Patterns form in the air—wings, stars, and something else—something that feels important but stays just out of reach. The energy makes my skin tingle, the air thick with potential.

"Kaia?" Aspen asks cautiously, clearly sensing the shift in the room even if he can't see it. "Your necklace is glowing."

"You're doing that thing again," Torric adds, stepping closer. "Where the air gets all weird."

"It's not me," I whisper. "It's them."

My shadows ripple and twist, their movements deliberate and purposeful. Finn stands, his usual humor replaced by a rare seriousness. "Looks like they're trying to tell us something now."

Bob detaches from the rest and moves toward the center of the room. The others follow, forming a swirling mass that grows brighter as the necklace pulses. The light and shadows merge, creating a shape so vivid it takes my breath away.

Wings. Starlit and massive, filling the room with their ethereal glow. A gasp escapes me, unbidden, as the sheer power of the sight presses against my chest. Finn mutters, "Now that's a statement," while Malrik watches in silent awe, his usual composure faltering for just a moment.

"That's what I saw in my dreams," I say, my voice trembling. "But now... it feels different. Like they're mine, but not."

A strange mix of awe and fear rushes through me. They feel familiar, like a long-lost memory, but there’s a weight to them—a power that doesn’t just belong to me. It’s overwhelming, but also... right. Like they’ve always been there, waiting for me to see them.

"They're not just yours," Malrik says, stepping closer. "They're part of something bigger."

The wings shift, their patterns changing until they resemble constellations. Aspen moves closer. "The texts mentioned artifacts of power responding to their wielders. But they’re supposed to be long gone."

"Clearly not," Finn says, gesturing at the wings. "And I’m guessing that’s why everyone’s so interested in Kaia."

"Good luck to them," Torric mutters, his hand finding my shoulder. "She’s got us now."

The room falls silent again as the wings dissolve into faint starlight, leaving behind an almost tangible stillness. My shadows return to their usual restless state, but something feels different. They’re not just mine anymore—they’re something more.

"We need to be ready," Malrik says quietly. "Whatever's coming, it's bigger than Thorne. Someone doesn’t want Kaia to discover what she really is."

"Let them try," Torric says with a sharp grin. "We’ll be ready."

I clutch the necklace, its steady warmth grounding me as the room buzzes with quiet determination. Whatever’s coming, I’ll be ready. And for the first time, I know I won’t face it alone.