Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
K aia leaned in close to Alaire, low enough for her voice to blend with the hum of conversation around them. “How did training go this morning?”
Alaire shook her head, blowing out a breath. The faint scent of old parchment clung to the lecture hall as Professor Elowen shuffled through a stack of notes at the front, her back turned to the chattering novices.
History of Magical Conflict had become one of Alaire’s favorite classes.
“That bad, huh?” Kaia grimaced.
“Worse,” Alaire said, eyes lingering on the faded maps of Elithian’s territories, searching them for answers to the growing distance between her and Dawson.
Kaia sighed. “If it makes you feel any better, Caius and I have been at each other’s throats all week. The arrogance in him is something else.”
“Welcome to the club.” Alaire turned back to her. “Where’s Archer?”
“He said he’d meet us here,” Kaia replied, leaning back in her chair. “Had something to take care of.”
A few rows ahead, someone gestured animatedly, her high-pitched voice bouncing off the arched ceiling. Alaire’s fingers traced the smooth wood of her armrest. “How’s precision training going?” she asked.
“Finally getting somewhere.” Kaia’s face brightened. “Professor Riel’s exercises are helping. Yesterday I managed to create a contained thunderstorm in a small radius—no lightning strikes singed anything. Still not good enough for Caius, though.”
“One of the perks of not having magic yet—less time with my partner,” Alaire lied with a chuckle.
Kaia placed a reassuring hand on hers. “It’ll come soon. You’ll see.”
Alaire wasn’t so sure. The tiny flicker of magic within her had been snuffed out, and no matter how many times she’d tried to coax it awake, it slumbered deep inside her.
“Good morning, class,” Professor Elowen announced, sweeping wisps of grey hair from her eyes as she leaned against the edge of her desk.
“Good morning, Professor,” the class responded in unison.
“Today, we are discussing perspective.”
As she began, Archer slid into the empty seat they’d saved for him.
“Perspective,” Professor Elowen said, “is not just about how we see the world. It shapes every decision we make.”
Pushing herself off the desk, she crossed to the large tapestry hanging on the wall, brushing her fingers over its frayed edges.
“Think about the magical conflicts you’ve studied—wars, betrayals, rivalries.
How often were they sparked by clashing viewpoints, each side convinced their perspective was the only truth?
“By studying, discussing, and understanding perspective, we learn to look beyond our biases—to grasp not only why others act as they do, but also the ethical implications of our own actions.”
Her gaze swept the room. “This awareness can prevent us from repeating the mistakes of the past. And perhaps,” she added, “guide us toward a more responsible, empathetic use of magic.”
She interlaced her fingers. “Who can tell me how the most recent war reignited with the vampires?”
A hand shot up—Gigi, an earth wielder, the same girl who’d been gesturing animatedly earlier.
“After Starfall, when the Voidshade Sovereign fell, vampires went to ground. Many thought they’d been destroyed.
But then they began attacking human villages along Cielore’s border—bodies turning up carved with the Consortium’s symbol.
At first random, then increasing in frequency, hunting both humans and fae to prepare for their resurgence.
“In a coordinated strike, they shattered the ancient magical wards protecting Cielore’s borders.
The barriers fell in one night, leaving Cielore’s heartland exposed.
With their defenses compromised and vampire forces pouring in through multiple breach points along Cassiopeia Forest, the Consortium had no choice but to declare full-scale war and mobilize every flier and infantry unit to push them back. ”
“Excellent summary, Gigi. Thank you. Now—methods for defeating a vampire?”
Alaire found herself answering. “Decapitation, pure silver to the heart, or burning with phoenix fire.” She’d learned that during one of her many trips to Australe Library.
Snickers rippled through the room at the mention of phoenix fire. Professor Elowen’s gaze remained kind but assessing.
“Correct. Vampires are apex predators and difficult to kill. Interesting, isn’t it, that a phoenix would return as war escalates?”
The room quieted.
Before anyone could speak again, the door opened with a sharp creak . Caius stood there, a plain silver necklace dangling from his fingers.
“Apologies for the interruption, Professor,” he said smoothly, eyes locking on Kaia.
Kaia froze. Archer’s gaze snapped to Caius, nostrils flaring.
“What are you doing here?” Archer asked coolly.
Caius stepped further into the room, swinging the chain. “You left this in the training hall,” he said to Kaia, ignoring Archer entirely.
Kaia’s cheeks flushed as she crossed the room quickly, avoiding the class’s stares. Her voice was low and tight. “You could’ve given it to me later.”
Caius tilted his head, exposing the angry red scar along his throat. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “Could’ve. But I know how important it is to you.”
Kaia snatched the chain, fingers curling tightly around it. “Thanks. You can go now.”
“Anytime,” Caius replied, gaze flicking to Archer.
“I wouldn’t dream of stealing your spotlight,” Caius said. “I know how exhausting it must be, trailing after Kaia like some over-eager guard dog. Don’t worry—I’ve got it under control.”
Archer’s eyes narrowed, shoulders stiffening. “Unlike you, I don’t make a habit of barging into classrooms for attention.”
Caius chuckled darkly, folding his arms. “Barging in? No. Making sure something important gets to where it belongs? Absolutely. Someone’s got to.”
Kaia muttered under her breath as she returned to her seat, clasping the chain around her neck. Alaire hadn’t realized she wasn’t wearing it.
“Caius,” Professor Elowen said sharply, “unless you plan to participate, I suggest leaving. Surely, you have other places to be.”
He glanced at Kaia, then at Alaire, his smile growing. “Actually, Professor, I think I’ll stay. Perspective, right? Sounds enlightening.”
Professor Elowen raised a brow but nodded. It seemed Dawson wasn’t the only one who received special treatment here. She gestured toward an empty seat at the back.
Alaire glanced at Kaia, whose face was tight with irritation. Archer’s jaw remained clenched, purposefully avoiding Kaia.
“Now that all distractions have concluded”—Professor Elowen gave Caius a pointed look—“if you were turned into a vampire against your will, could you be held accountable for your actions?”
“I’d rather meet Umbra in the Underworld,” someone called from the back.
“I’d want vengeance,” another added.
“Fair points,” Professor Elowen said. “Often, we become swept up in the discourse of the many, but it is important to consider multiple perspectives. Can anyone provide another scenario of conflicting perspectives?”
Alaire shot her hand up. “How about the double standards between humans and fae in Elithian?”
Some of her classmates rolled their eyes, others muttered, “Here we go again.” But Alaire didn’t care.
Kaia gave her an approving nod. Archer lifted his chin.
She pressed on. “Many of you have the innate belief that because you wield aether, you’re inherently worth more than humans.
Their lives are seen as expendable simply because they lack magic.
You treat them as tools, not people. They are deemed to serve, never to thrive.
And the fae without magic? Cast aside like garbage, exiled for something they can’t control. ”
Her voice rose. “Yet you expect them to fight and die for you. Send thousands to their deaths. This entire territory is drenched in human blood. Have any of you ever set foot in the human districts? Seen their suffering?”
No one answered. She hadn’t expected them to.
“Imagine your life as a human. What would your future look like? How would you feel?”
“Imagine life as a human?” Caius scoffed from the back. “That’s like asking a lion to imagine life as a mouse. We were born with magic—it would be idiotic to apologize for it or pretend otherwise.”
Kaia whipped around, glare fierce. “Caius, don’t?—”
Alaire’s fury flared, cutting Kaia off before she could finish. “And does watching others bleed fuel your sense of superiority?”
Caius’s face twisted. “Just because you slummed it with mortals doesn’t mean you’re better than us. Your little outburst doesn’t change the fact that you can’t even summon your magic.”
The barb hit its mark, a sharp pang tightening her chest, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. “At least I stand for something. What do you stand for—your ego?”
“From what I heard, you’ve only ever run away from responsibility. You’re a coward, not a leader.” Caius gave her a smug smile.
A low growl escaped Archer’s throat, his fists clenching the armrests beside him. “Enough.”
Alaire tapped his arm in warning. She could fight her own battles.
“Leadership comes from understanding and empathy, from recognizing the value of all lives, not just those blessed with aether,” she replied, crossing her arms.
“You wouldn’t know the first thing about being a leader,” Caius shot back. “Authority without conviction is meaningless. It’s the making of a coward, not a queen.”
Unworthiness and humiliation flooded through her. She fought to keep her voice steady. “You’re wrong.”
“Empathy is for the weak. Power is what keeps us safe. It’s a lesson you and your family failed to learn the first time,” Caius sneered.
Alaire shook with the effort it took not to launch herself at him. “Power without empathy is nothing but tyranny. And tyrants always fall. Don’t take my word for it—history proves it.”
The class collectively tensed. Kaia’s fingers tightened around the silver chain at her neck, her gaze bouncing between them.
“History doesn’t favor cowards either, Alaire. Maybe you’ll learn that before you get someone else killed.”
Her chest tightened. Elodie .
Before she could respond, Professor Elowen cut in, “That’s enough.
I let that run longer than usual because you’ve just demonstrated how quickly conflicting perspectives can escalate.
It’s the very phenomenon that has driven magical conflicts for centuries.
Navigating these kinds of scenarios is the only way to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past.”
Alaire blinked rapidly, ruminating over Caius’s words.
“Perhaps it is time everyone broadened their perspective,” Professor Elowen stated.
Caius scoffed but leaned back. Archer shot him a withering look, body still taut with tension.
The professor’s words settled over the room like a damp blanket, snuffing out the tension. Kaia exhaled, slumping in her seat.
Alaire forced herself to take a deep breath. If she’d altered even one person’s perspective on what she’d witnessed and endured in Starling Gate, it was worth it—no matter what Caius thought.