Chapter Six #3
"The magic doesn't just poison them, it rewrites them.
Their instincts warp. Their bodies mutate.
They become aggressive, unpredictable, and driven by something that isn't quite hunger and isn't quite rage.
" Marlowe's voice lost its theatrical edge, becoming quieter, more serious.
"What you saw attack your airship was a mid-stage corruption.
It was still beast enough to have patterns, but twisted enough to be almost unrecognizable. "
Liri raised a tentative hand. "Can they be saved? Once they're corrupted?"
Marlowe's expression softened slightly. "No, Miss Halverson. Once the corruption takes hold past a certain threshold, there's no reversing it. The kindest thing you can do is end their suffering quickly."
The room went very still.
"But," Marlowe continued, her voice brightening just a fraction, "early detection can save them. If you catch the signs before deep corruption sets in, removal from the contaminated zone and careful monitoring can sometimes halt progression. It's rare, but it happens."
The wiry boy near the front spoke up, his voice precise and measured. "What's the correlation between proximity to unstable zones and corruption rates? Is there a measurable gradient?"
Marlowe grinned. "Excellent question, Mister Straton. Yes, there is. The closer a beast lives to a high-concentration zone, the higher the risk. We map these regions constantly, tracking spread patterns and identifying new danger zones as they develop."
She tapped the map again. "Which brings me to the uncomfortable truth you all need to understand: these zones are growing. Slowly, but measurably. Twenty years ago, the Thornveil was half its current size. Fifty years ago, the Blackfen barely registered as a threat."
A student near the back shifted uneasily. "Why? What's causing them to spread?"
Marlowe paused, chalk hovering over the board.
"That's the question every researcher at the Academy is trying to answer.
The prevailing theory is that magic, like all energy, seeks equilibrium.
As we draw power from the Sundering Stone for our cities, our tech, our way of life, the balance shifts. Instability spreads."
She turned back to face them. "But theories don't keep you alive in the field. Practical knowledge does. So listen carefully."
Marlowe began listing points, ticking them off on chalk-dusted fingers.
"Signs of early corruption: unusual aggression toward previously neutral stimuli.
Erratic movement patterns. Physical mutations, extra eyes, asymmetrical growths, bioluminescent markings.
Discoloration of hide or scales, usually toward darker, oil-slick tones. "
Cassara's hand moved across her notes, capturing every detail.
"Advanced corruption," Marlowe continued, her tone darkening, "presents as complete loss of natural behavior.
The creature no longer hunts for food or defends territory.
It hunts for the sake of destruction. Its body warps beyond recognition.
And most importantly," she fixed them with a hard stare, "it will target you specifically because you carry potential bonding energy. You are a beacon to them."
Julian's voice cut through the tension. "So we're walking targets."
"Yes," Marlowe said simply. "Which is why you learn to recognize threats, assess danger levels, and know when to fight versus when to run."
For the next hour, chalk scraped against slate as Professor Marlowe filled the board with classifications, behavioral patterns, and survival rates.
Cassara's hand cramped from taking notes, but she didn't pause. Every detail felt vital now, not just academic. The diagrams of beast anatomy suddenly weren't abstractions but practical knowledge she might need in only six weeks' time.
"The Wildes wait for no one," Professor Marlowe said, circling a particularly ominous statistic about first-year bonding success rates.
"And neither will I. First assignment: field journal entries on the native fauna visible from academy grounds.
I want structural observations, behavioral patterns, and potential corruption indicators. Due by the end of the week."
The class was beginning to pack up as Professor Marlowe wiped chalk dust from her hands and fixed them with a final piercing look.
"One last thing. After yesterday's incident, beast activity around Vallemont has increased, even in the safe zones.
Stay within warded boundaries unless accompanied by an upper-year or instructor.
" She tapped her pointer against her palm.
"Remember, caution is not cowardice. But cockiness? That's how you lose limbs."
Chairs scraped as students surged to their feet.
Cassara didn’t rush. She gathered her notes with practiced care, letting the hum of chatter and footfalls rise around her. Liri lingered nearby, still scribbling something in her margins.
And that’s when Verena passed her desk. Her voice was pitched casually, but just loud enough to carry.
“Must be exhausting, having to prove you belong every single second.”
Cassara froze and the students nearest them turned slightly, some pretending not to listen, others openly curious. Julian hadn’t heard; he was already halfway to the door, Jonas and Vash trailing after him. Beside her, Liri stiffened.
Cassara, however, didn’t take the bait.
She finished packing her things and when she glanced back up, Verena was gone. Taking a deep breath, Cassara followed the tide of students into the corridor, her movements brisk, the echo of Verena’s parting words still burning at the edge of her temper.
“She’s the worst,” Liri muttered, trying for a comforting tone. “I don’t even think she’s that clever. Just… venomous.”
Cassara didn’t answer, because there he was.
Gideon.
He was leaning against the far wall with no Verena in sight. Just him and that infuriating blank expression, watching the hall like he was already bored of it all.
Cassara didn’t hesitate. “Wait here.”
Liri faltered behind her. “Wait, where are you-?”
“Just a second.”
Gideon looked up as she approached, and the way he barely straightened only sharpened her frustration.
“What is your problem?” she asked, her voice low and clipped.
He blinked once, lazily. “I assume you’ll narrow that question down?”
“Your little girlfriend won’t stop pestering me.”
He didn’t blink. “You seem like you can handle it.”
“Oh, I can. I just figured if you’re going to make her your attack dog, you might want to rein her in before someone kicks back.”
He gave a faint scoff, stepping closer, enough that she had to tilt her chin to meet his eyes.
“Relax,” he drawled. “You’re not that important.”
Cassara’s jaw tensed but Gideon didn’t wait for her to recover.
“If this is how you treat everyone who bumps your pride,” he said, already turning away, “I can’t wait to see midterms.”
“You think this is a game?”
“I think you’re predictable,” he said softly. “All flare and pride and sharp little barbs until someone calls your bluff. Verena sees it. I see it. You’ll break before you bend.”
A hand brushed her elbow.
“Cassara?” Liri’s voice was careful. “We should get going…”
Cassara didn’t move. She stared at him another second longer, like she could hold the tension there, burn him with it.
“Well, isn’t this cozy.” Julian’s voice came from behind them. On the surface it sounded casual, but Cassara knew better. Her stomach sank as Gideon’s mouth curved upwards, just slightly.
Julian stepped between them, shoulders squared and every inch of him radiating cool authority. For Cassara, his presence was immediate and suffocating.
His gaze bypassed her entirely and locked on Gideon instead, measured and unblinking. "Problem?" The word cut through the tension, deceptively calm.
“Not for me,” Gideon replied. “But leash training seems like a bigger job than I thought. You might want to put in some more practice hours with her, Tremaine.”
Julian huffed a laugh.
“How dare—”
But Gideon was already walking away without sparing so much as a backward glance. Cassara stared after him, rage simmering beneath her skin. She’d been baited, toyed with, dismissed, and the worst part? She hadn’t even landed a blow in return.
She scowled and started walking.
“What was that all about? You looked like you were going to throw him off the bridge,” Julian said as he fell into step beside her, tone light, posture lazy, but his eyes flicked toward where Gideon had gone.
“That’s still on the table,” she muttered. “What the hell is his problem?”
Julian’s smile turned sharp. “Obsession. With legacy, with proving something.”
Cassara frowned. "You say that like it's personal."
"It is," he said simply. "His grandfather left mine to burn in an ACS malfunction. Walked away while the wreckage was still smoldering. Never even tried to save him."
Cassara's breath caught. She remembered the incident, vaguely. A prototype gone wrong. Julian's grandfather had spoken about it once at a dinner she barely remembered, leaning on that cane with the silver lion head. His scars were real but surface level. His bitterness? That went much deeper.
"I thought it was an equipment failure," she said, walking slower now.
"That's what they said. What they claimed." Julian's voice cooled. "But the design belonged to the Delvanirs. The oversight, too. And when it failed, they ran."
Liri's voice was small, hesitant. "That's awful. Does Gideon... does he know what happened?"
Julian turned, just slightly. His smile never slipped, but it stiffened at the corners.
"Oh, he knows," Julian said. "His family has never recovered from it. Lost their contracts, their standing, most of their holdings."
Liri looked down, clearly wishing she hadn't asked.
“His family’s been clawing for relevance ever since. And now he thinks throwing weight at anyone who still has a name will even the score.” He tilted his head. “He’s not targeting you, Cass. You’re just a convenient way to get under my skin.”
Cassara didn’t answer right away. Gideon’s attitude, his disdain, it certainly made more sense now. Maybe Julian was right.
“Look,” he continued, his tone gentling. “I’m not saying you can’t handle yourself. You’ve made that clear.”
Cassara gave him a sidelong glance, but said nothing.
He stepped closer, just slightly, as they moved down the hall. “But you don’t need to waste your time with someone like him. He doesn’t respect what this place is. What it means. He’s bitter, Cass. Bitter people break things when they can’t have them.”
His hand hovered near hers, not quite touching. “I’d rather not see you dragged down just because someone can’t stand seeing you rise.”
She let out a heavy sigh. It would’ve been easier to dismiss him if he didn’t actually care, at least in his own way. Julian’s smile curved like he’d already won.
Ahead of them the faint thrum of arcane light grew stronger. Their next class loomed beyond the archway, its door wide, its space already filling with students.
Julian's hand moved toward the small of her back, that familiar possessive gesture.
She stepped forward before he could make contact, putting distance between them.
"Try not to fall behind," she said, not even glancing over her shoulder.
Behind her, Liri snorted.
But Julian? He said nothing and Cassara felt his gaze follow her all the way through the door.