Chapter 9 Magical Traces
By the time I reached Emberkeep atrium, the lecture was in full swing. My reflection trailed me through glass corridors hair damp. The Hall of Mirrors’ sting clinging to my skin like smoke.
When my mother decreed that I was to complete the Emberkeep curriculum alongside Dragontail’s, no one considered that the classes would overlap.
The Court of Solenhart was still reviewing her order, but that didn’t stop the academy from enforcing it.
I was expected to attend both, even if it meant running from one end of the grounds to the other with barely a breath in between.
I slipped through the arched doorway just as Headmaster Marvek turned from the board, chalk dust trailing from his sleeve. I didn’t even have time to avoid his gaze or find a discreet seat at the back.
“Miss Solenhart,” he said, his voice as precise as the clock tower. “It seems to be becoming common for you to arrive after the hour.”
My breath caught, but I bowed my head slightly. “Apologies, Headmaster. The Hall of Mirrors class overlaps, and…” A flicker of frustration tightened my voice; I hated the helplessness of explaining myself again.
"Yes, your dual coursework," he interrupted, motioning for me to sit. "A unique privilege, though I expect punctuality from all students. Still…" His expression softened slightly. "It’s good to have the Solenhart heir in Emberkeep, as it should be."
Dozens of eyes followed me across the marble floor. My boots clicked too loudly. I took an empty seat in the back, forcing my shoulders straight as whispers pricked like needles down my spine.
The Emberkeep classroom rose two stories high, its white marble walls etched with the legion’s motto in burnished gold.
Through Reason, Dominion.
Sunlight poured through arched windows, scattering across carved desks and shelves heavy with scrolls and relics. The air smelled of parchment, candle-wax and order, discipline, and legacy.
Headmaster Marvek clasped his hands behind him. “Now, since our princess missed yesterday’s discussion, though I’m sure she’s well-versed in the subject. Who can summarize what we covered?”
A girl in the first row raised her hand at once, slender, steady, polished like everything else about her. Her voice had the rhythm of someone raised in a courtroom.
"We reviewed the main magical trace categories, Headmaster. Elemental wielders such as those controlling water, air, or ice, are common in Dragontail. Ambient wielders call storms, rain, or lightning. Sensory gifts such as enhanced sight, hearing or healing, usually seen in Auroric. Finally, mental magics are Emberkeep’s strength: empaths, truth-finders, coercers, memory seekers, illusionists… and the Sight."
Headmaster Marvek nodded approvingly. “But we all know legion placement is not that simple,” he added, his tone edged with irony. “We see many empaths in Auroric and now, we see the Solenhart princess, who most likely will have the Sight, in Dragontail.”
My throat tightened. They were speaking about me as though I was a prophecy written on parchment, not sitting two rows away, still damp with combat sweat.
“Wouldn’t the princess have already developed this in her early years?” A girl from the middle of the room asked.
“Excellent observation. The Sight, our most revered hereditary trait, has guided the Solenhart line for millennia, ensuring the island’s future remains in wise hands.
And indeed, it has usually shown in the early years of the heirs' lives, but not always. I have no doubt this trace will emerge before her twenty-first birthday, as it always has.”
In Marvek’s world, the Solenhart heir had to possess the Sight. There was no space for who I actually was, only for what I was meant to become. My jaw tightened. So I did the only thing I could.
"The princess is right here," I said lightly. "No need to speak as if she isn’t."
A ripple of nervous laughter spread through the room as the young male beside me smirked, his amusement catching on the others until soft chuckles echoed off the marble walls.
“Yes, yes,” Marvek said, a faint smile forming. “And we’re quite glad you are since you’ll help us move on to today’s topic. Tell us, Princess, which traces have historically manifested in the royal bloodline?”
I forced myself to answer, keeping my voice even. “Sunbursting, the manipulation of pure solar energy. Time stoppers, which are self-explanatory. Magic suppressors, who can strip power from others. Invisibility. Memory wipers. Among a few other rare traces.”
Headmaster Marvek gave an approving nod. “Well said. Can anyone name a king or queen who possessed any of these rare traits?”
The girl lifted her chin. "The Velvet King used Sunbursting during the Purge. He also had the Sight. There hasn’t been a Solenhart born without the Sight."
Everyone knew that story. The Velvet King slaughtered hundreds of wildweavers during the Purge. A terrible name but fitting.
“You’ll do well in the Court when your mother passes the baton to you, Lady Aric,” the headmaster said with a note of pride.
I froze. Aric. My pulse jumped, a mix of surprise and something sharper. Envy or dread; I wasn’t sure which. The name landed like a measured reminder of expectation.
Of course—Camelia Aric, Zeci Aric’s daughter, my mother’s right hand, and court member.
I’d seen her often, though never beyond the required polite exchanges.
She was everything I was taught to admire and everything I quietly refused to become graceful and proper.
The kind of girl I was never meant to be.
“How does the Sight work?” the young male who had been laughing earlier asked, cutting through the murmurs just as the headmaster was about to speak.
“I mean, how can the Queen know everything that happens on the island? There are thousands of people, countless choices, the wildweavers and their shifting fates… there’s too much to see.
I just know no one can use or even get protection heirlooms so that the queen can see all our fates. ”
A ripple of interest moved through the hall.
“Very interesting question, Mister Radke,” Headmaster Marvek said, his voice calm but sharp enough to draw attention back to him.
“Perhaps one that Miss Solenhart can answer better than I can. She’s been trained by the Glass Castle tutors and by the Queen herself for that magical trace to manifest.”
The room turned toward me as if a single breath had pulled them all in my direction. Dozens of faces, curious, skeptical, expectant, watched me. Some students leaned forward, whispering; others simply stared.
It seemed the Sight was still a mystery, even here.
"The Sight appears as visions," I said, careful but steady. "It’s not all-seeing. It ties to what the bearer loves—people, places, things that matter. For Rionis, that’s the island, court, bloodline. The Queen doesn’t see every choice, but threats to Rionis or her loved ones are revealed.
Sometimes early enough, sometimes just before it occurs.
With focus and touch, the Sight can reach further.
But it demands intention, emotion, and sometimes sacrifice. "
“Why I ask is because if that is the future she sees, how come we think it can be changed?” Radke, next to me, asked, smirking again, but this time the headmaster responded for me.
“Mr. Radke,” Marvek said with a faint smile, “you do love to question things. But a good question, nonetheless.” He clasped his hands behind his back and paced slowly before the rows of desks.
“The Queen’s Sight doesn’t show a single, fixed future.
It reveals possibilities, paths that may shift depending on the choices made.
That is why she keeps a full court to counsel her, to help steer those outcomes before they solidify.
Through those endless glimpses, she can see when and where the wildweavers might strike and sometimes how to change it before it happens.
” Marvek turned back to the board. “Now, this leads us to our next topic.”
“Why didn’t she see that the Princess was going to be called to Dragontail? That is a large imbalance.” Someone from the front seats asked.
“You all know the answer to that,” Marvek said, his tone firm but patient.
“The queen could not see that future, at least directly since Miss Solenhart wore her protection heirloom as is customary. The heirs of the throne are required to wear their sunburst protections until their twenty-first birthday, until their magic has fully matured, and their resistance to coercion and other mental magics is strong enough to stand on its own. Only then are they safe to walk unshielded. There are very few protection heirlooms capable of blocking the Queen’s Sight, and every single one of them belongs to the royal bloodline.
No one outside it is permitted to use them. ”
A heavy silence settled over the room. The weight of it pressed against the walls until even the flames in the sconces seemed to still. Then Headmaster Marvek cleared his throat, breaking the tension with a single measured breath.
“We’ve derailed enough from the topic of today’s class,” he said evenly.
He tapped the chalk once against the board. Two words appeared in his precise, deliberate script:
Dormant and Lost Traces.
“Wildweavers,” someone said from the back.
“That’s an obvious answer,” Headmaster Marvek replied.
“It was the reason for the Purge under the Velvet King, an offense to the Island of Rionis that still carries the penalty of death. Yet we cannot call it dormant, for by definition a trace is only considered dormant or extinct if it hasn’t appeared in over two centuries. ”
A chill crept across my skin. Even now, people with such abilities still surfaced. People who could bend animals to their will, like Lorik’s sister.
On the board behind him, several names began to appear in neat, glowing script:
Magic Suppressors — two centuries dormant.
Sunbursting — three centuries dormant.
Echoes — three centuries dormant.
Shapeshifters — five centuries dormant.
Dream walkers — four centuries dormant.
I’d heard of most before. Some had belonged to my ancestors, the first two, especially. But the others had emerged so long ago I barely remembered their stories.
“There are many more,” Marvek said, “but these are the rarest. Each of these traces has appeared only once or twice in our recorded history.”
“All the dormant traces seem to be the most powerful ones,” Radke remarked.
“Indeed.” The headmaster smiled faintly. “That is precisely the point I wished to make today. The Gods of Solvir and Lunareth grant magical traces with intention. Only they decide what the island truly needs and when.”
He turned to the board, the faint shimmer of runes flickering to life as he spoke.
“Echoes, for instance, can mirror the magic of those they touch, limitless in what they might master. Shapeshifters can alter their form into anyone they wish, blending into the world unseen. And Dream walkers…” His voice dropped.
“They can slip into another’s mind while they sleep, bending thoughts and memories when their walls are down.
Most never even realize they’ve been touched. ”
A murmur spread through the room until a student in the back raised their hand. “Couldn’t people just lie about their traces or never use them at all?”
“They could,” the headmaster admitted. “Which is why, by law, every citizen of Rionis must undergo a truthfinding ceremony by their twenty-first birthday. Each sit under a Truth Finder, who reads their magic and records their traces in the book of records. If a trace is deemed too dangerous or politically sensitive to reveal, the Court may classify it as confidential but even then, the throne will know. Such exemptions are exceedingly rare.”
A cold ache unfurled in my chest. I’d almost forgotten, I had only a few months left before my own truthfinding ceremony. Soon, the entire kingdom would know exactly what kind of magic I possessed or didn’t. There would be no hiding, no privacy, no room for weakness.
And as a Solenhart, my traces would not be confidential. They would be dissected, compared, and judged.
When the class ended, Radke turned to me quickly to introduce himself.
“I am Jan Radke, one of the ones asking questions. Hopefully, I didn’t bother you too much. I didn’t grow up with crazy, all the education Emberkeep does. I am from a family of miners from Westfield, and for some reason, I am a truth-finder, and I was practically forced to come to Elarion.”
“Thea Solenhart, as you may have noticed. You are here to learn all that anyway.” Right at that moment, Camelia Aric approached us.
“Mister Radke,” Camelia Aric said sharply, examining him up close, not with disdain but curiosity. Then her gaze snapped to mine.
“At your service, princess, I hope I was not too straightforward with my comments in class,” she added while slightly bowing.
“No need to be so formal, Camelia, nor bow to me,” I replied, my tone even. Camelia hesitated for a moment and then nodded.
“And please do not hold yourself in class on my behalf. Speak the truth. Always,” I said and meant it. I didn’t want censorship; I believed in free speech.
Camelia grinned at me and left with a swift elegance, not being able to hide that she was raised by nobles.
“So uptight, well put together,” Jan said, not with judgment, just pointing out facts. “I never saw such elegance in the mines.”
“That is the court of Solenhart,” I said bluntly.