Chapter Five #2
Cassara leaned forward without realizing it, her scraped arm pressing against the edge of the table. The dull ache barely registered. She was too focused on Auren’s technique, memorizing it, learning from it.
Auren was precision incarnate, every step measured, every strike calculated. But Darius? Darius fought like the world bent around him. Like gravity forgot him on purpose. His whip-spear snapped and coiled, shifting from spear thrusts to sweeping arcs of chain, unpredictable as a storm.
They moved like opposite forces. Control versus chaos. Ice versus fire.
A flurry of blows. Auren nearly landed a strike to Darius’s side, but the instructor pivoted with impossible grace, sliding beneath the blade, grinning.
“You’ve slowed,” Darius teased, breathless but laughing.
“You’ve gotten louder,” Auren replied coolly, driving him back with a flurry of dagger strikes that forced Darius to shift Encore into its spear form.
This wasn’t just an exhibition, there was history here, rivalry perhaps. She wondered what Auren had been like before he became the cold, efficient fighter she’d seen today. Had he ever fought with Darius’s joy? Had he ever smiled during combat?
Their beasts appeared only once, projected briefly behind them like flickering echoes.
Auren’s emerged in near silence—a serpent of polished mirror-scale, wingless and sinuous, she moved like smoke, her coils drifting just behind his shoulders.
She didn’t roar or strike. She watched. Unblinking.
Unseen by many until she was already passing through them.
For a moment, the light seemed to bend around her, distorting the air as if reality itself was holding its breath.
The beast suits him, Cassara thought. It was silent. Lethal. Impossible to track until it was too late. So different from the corrupted horror they’d faced on the ship, yet equally deadly in its own refined way.
Darius? Virex rose in a flare of fire and feathers, soaring above him with theatrical grace, wings wide, talons gleaming, a creature born to bask in the spotlight. He circled once, twice, then perched on the opposite side of the hall, preening as if the applause already belonged to him.
Finally, with a clash of light and force, the duel ended. Darius stood with the retracted tip of the chain spear pointed toward Auren’s throat, just close enough to threaten, not wound.
But Auren’s blade was already at Darius’s ribs.
A draw, technically. But Cassara knew which strike would have been fatal first. She wondered if that knowledge was why Auren’s expression remained so carefully neutral, even in victory.
The hall exploded with applause.
Darius grinned wide, bowing again. “A draw,” he said cheerfully, “as always.”
Auren gave a single nod before sheathing his blades and vanishing back into the shadowed line of faculty.
The dueling platform lowered into the floor and the golden light of the chandeliers brightened once more. A hum of conversation surged through the Great Hall, brimming with a new kind of energy, excitement, awe, and the sharp crackle of expectation.
Headmistress Kalisandra stepped forward once more, her voice cutting cleanly through the noise without needing to rise. "Our gratitude to our combat instructor for that demonstration. You've set the standard our first-years will be expected to meet."
Kalisandra gestured to the faculty table where several other instructors sat.
"Here at Vallemont, knowledge is as important as your physical prowess.
You will meet your professors throughout the week so I shall keep the introductions brief.
Professor Marlowe Idrin will guide you through the fascinating complexities of beast classification and the dangers of the Wilds.
" A woman with wild silver-streaked hair and at least three pairs of spectacles perched at various angles on her head offered an enthusiastic wave.
"Professor Thendrick Donall will help you understand the bond itself, what it means to share your soul with another.
" A lean man with deep eyes and long, simple robes inclined his head serenely.
"And Professor Wenric Valarde will ensure you know the history that brought you here, and the mistakes you'd be wise not to repeat.
" An older man with a scarred face and ink-stained fingers raised a glass in sardonic salute.
"But tonight," Kalisandra continued, her tone warming slightly, "we celebrate. Welcome to Vallemont."
The Great Hall erupted in applause once more, not as exuberantly as it had following the combat performance, but enthusiastic nevertheless.
Cassara turned her attention to the table and the empty plate sitting before her. She could barely remember the last time she’d felt hungry. But now, with the air still buzzing and her heart still racing, the scent of roasted meats and honey-glazed vegetables caused her stomach to growl.
The first platters arrived in a synchronized sweep, attendants gliding between tables with effortless grace.
Silver domes were lifted in unison, revealing fragrant spreads: charred wildroot in honey glaze, crisped duck with candied peel, soft-baked bread spiraled with sea salt and accompanied by thinly sliced fruits and cheeses.
Even the water tasted faintly sweetened, a luxury rarely granted outside the great houses.
Cassara tore into the bread, the salt and warmth of it anchoring her. She’d fought for this, had nearly died for it. She could at least taste it.
Across from her, Julian bit into a roasted thigh of boar like it owed him an apology.
Sonia was still talking about the duel, the instructors, the “absolutely ridiculous” way Darius caught Auren’s wrist mid-spin, but Cassara barely heard her.
Her fingers were trailing lazy circles along the rim of her glass, mind drifting somewhere between exhaustion and exhilaration.
The hall felt warmer now, voices blending into a comfortable hum around her.
Until the ping resonated through the air.
A sharp crystalline chime. Then another.
All around the room, first-years fumbled for their Codices as the devices awakened.
The dark crystal sheets lit up from within, their etched patterns blazing to life as information bloomed in the translucent depths.
Text and diagrams shifted like living things beneath the surface.
Orientation Status: Complete
Echo Trial: Registered
Tri-Oath Signature: Verified
Class Schedule: Uploaded
Dorm Assignment: Updated
Her name was etched in fine script across the top of the screen. Cassara Allencourt. Below it: her weekly timetable, a list of orientation events marked in gold, and her dorm assignment.
Room 5.
She stared at it for a beat longer than necessary, heart suddenly louder than it should’ve been. This was it. The final shift. No longer the heir of House Allencourt. No longer a runaway or a shadow of her mother’s memory.
She was a Vallemont student now, part of the first year cohort.
Julian leaned closer to peek at her Codex. “We match?” he asked, tone light.
Cassara tilted hers just enough for him to see her room number, then shut the Codex with a soft snap.
“Guess you’ll find out,” she said.
He laughed under his breath, amused and unbothered, as always.
Another crystalline chime of a bell cut through the chatter, and Headmistress Kalisandra rose from her seat at the high table. She didn’t need to speak—her presence alone commanded silence.
“First years,” she said, her voice carrying effortlessly through the hall. “Your Codices now contain everything you need. Curfew is at tenth bell. Classes begin at eight. Do not be late.” A pause, her gaze sweeping across them. “You are all free to go when you’ve finished your meals.”
The scrape of benches and burst of conversation resumed instantly as students began filing toward the exits, Codices still glowing in their hands.
Cassara didn’t hesitate, pushing up from the bench, her plate barely touched. She slipped from the table and made her way through the dispersing crowd. She needed to see it, Room 5, her new beginning.
“Cass,” Julian’s voice carried after her.
She didn’t slow and didn’t look back to acknowledge the sound of approaching footsteps. It took all she had not to sigh when Julian fell into step beside her, brushing an invisible thread of lint from his sleeve. “You didn’t show me your schedule.”
She arched a brow. “I wanted to keep the mystery alive.”
“Dangerous game,” he murmured. “You know how curious I get.”
Cassara gave a noncommittal hum, gaze flicking over the names etched along the walls, honor lists, crest ranks, Vallemont’s legacy carved into stone. She didn’t say anything else. Julian didn’t take the hint.
“I could walk you to your room,” he said, voice lower now. “Make sure it’s livable. Finish what we started in the lounge?”
She stopped, one brow arching higher. “You’re not allowed in the girls’ wing.”
Julian’s mouth curved slowly into a smirk. “You think a rule is enough to stop me?”
Cassara shrugged and turned back toward the corridor, stepping into the side wing clearly marked for first-year girls.
The moment her boot touched the runed threshold, the air shimmered around her, faint, iridescent, like sunlight refracting on glass, and then cleared. She passed through without resistance.
Julian followed, or at least he tried to.
A sharp crack split the air and he stumbled back, catching himself against the wall with a startled grunt. Light flared across the runes at his feet, locking him out with a hiss of arcane energy. His palm was red where it had hit the barrier.
Cassara turned slightly at the sound, just enough to glance over her shoulder.
“Oh,” she said, in as innocent a tone as she could muster. “I guess it does stop you.”
Julian’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “That’s different.”
She offered a half-smile. “Maybe the warding system’s finally catching up to your reputation.”