Chapter 59
Dinner at the Draxen manor was surprisingly comfortable—roasted chicken, fresh bread, vegetables from the estate's winter stores. Lyssa chattered about her lessons while Elara asked about Academy life with genuine interest rather than noble curiosity.
I was reaching for more bread when Aurelius's voice cut through my mind with sharp urgency.
Serenya. Zephyr is incoming. He's flying fast—distressed flight patterns. Something's wrong.
My hand froze mid-reach. "Aurelius says Zephyr is coming. Flying fast. Something's wrong."
Kairen was on his feet immediately, shadows already spreading. "How far?"
Minutes. Maybe two. Aurelius's voice held concern. He's alone. No Brooke visible.
"He's alone," I repeated, standing quickly. "Brooke isn't with him."
"That's not right." Kairen was already moving toward the door. "She never sends Zephyr without her unless—"
We burst out of the dining room, through the entrance hall, onto the front lawn. Elara and Lyssa followed, both looking alarmed.
In the distance, a dark shape approached—flying erratically, clearly exhausted. Zephyr's usual graceful flight was labored, desperate.
"Something's on his back," Kairen said, his voice tight. "He's carrying—"
Zephyr landed hard, talons gouging the lawn. And I saw what Kairen had seen—Brooke was slumped on his back, barely conscious, one arm wrapped around his neck while the other hung limp at her side.
Blood. So much blood soaking through her Academy uniform, spreading from a wound at her side.
"Brooke!" I ran toward them, but Zephyr's head snapped around, beak clacking in warning. His eyes were wild with protective fury and fear.
He won't let anyone close, Aurelius said. Griffin bonds become aggressive when their humans are injured. He sees everyone as threat.
"Zephyr," I said quietly, approaching slowly with hands visible. "It's me. Serenya. I'm going to help her. I need you to let me close."
The griffin's eyes fixed on me—recognition fighting with instinct to protect. Then, slowly, he lowered his head in acknowledgment.
I moved to Brooke's side carefully. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused and pain-glazed.
"Serenya?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "How—where—"
"Don't talk. Save your energy." I could see the wound now—a long slice from her ribs to her hip, deep enough that I could see muscle and possibly bone. "What happened?"
"Academy. Attacked. Army." Each word was effort. "Looking for you. Hundreds of them. They didn't believe—didn't believe you weren't there—"
"Elara!" Kairen's voice was commanding. "I need clean cloth, water, whatever medical supplies you have. Now!"
"Lyssa, with me," Elara said, already moving. "Quickly."
I called light to my hands—not the gentle illumination I usually used, but healing light. The kind Aurelius had taught me, that I'd used on Brooke once before for minor injuries. But this was so much worse than minor.
"This is going to hurt," I warned her. "I'm sorry."
I pressed light into the wound, feeling her magic structure through the contact. The damage was extensive—the blade had gone deep, nicked organs, caused internal bleeding that was probably killing her faster than the external wound.
Brooke screamed, her back arching, and Zephyr shrieked in response—a sound of pure anguish.
"Hold her still!" I commanded. Kairen moved immediately, his hands gentle but firm on her shoulders. "I need to go deeper. Heal internal damage before addressing external."
I poured more light into the wound, searching for the worst damage. Found a nicked kidney, bleeding into her abdomen. Found torn muscle, severed blood vessels. Each injury I addressed made Brooke scream again, made Zephyr's agitation increase.
"Almost there," I gasped, my own energy draining rapidly. This was far more intensive than anything I'd attempted. "Just hold on—"
Through the soulbond, I felt Kairen sending me strength—his shadow magic wrapping around my light, reinforcing it, giving me reserves to draw from. Twilight healing, even when I hadn't asked for it.
The internal bleeding stopped. Organs began knitting back together. Muscle regenerated slowly, painfully.
Finally, I could address the external wound—sealing it from the inside out, layer by layer. Skin repairing last, leaving only an angry red line where the gash had been.
Brooke went limp, unconscious from pain but breathing steadily. The bleeding had stopped.
"Is she—" Kairen started.
"She'll live. But she needs rest. Days of it. I healed the damage but her body still thinks it's injured. It needs time to accept that it's whole again."
Zephyr's beak gently touched Brooke's face, the griffin making soft concerned noises.
"Good boy," I said, exhaustion making my voice shake. "You got her here in time. You saved her."
A new sound cut through the evening air—a phoenix, flying fast and low. Caleb's sun phoenix
The creature landed before fully stopping, talons skidding across the lawn. Caleb literally jumped off while still twenty feet in the air, hit the ground running toward where Brooke lay.
"Brooke!" His voice was raw panic. "Is she—"
Zephyr's head snapped up, beak opening in aggressive warning. Even Caleb—who Zephyr knew, trusted—was being perceived as potential threat.
"She's alive," I said quickly, positioning myself between Caleb and the protective griffin. "I healed her. She needs rest but she'll be okay."
Caleb sagged with visible relief, then his eyes found Kairen. His face was pale, streaked with ash and blood that wasn't his own.
"Brother," he said, his voice breaking. "The Academy. They—it's gone."
"What?" Kairen's voice was sharp.
"The Academy was attacked. Not by twenty people. By hundreds." Caleb's hands were shaking. "An army. Armed, organized, coordinated. They appeared from multiple directions at once—overwhelmed the wards through sheer numbers, breached every entrance simultaneously."
Horror flooded through me. Not a small attack. An invasion.
"They were looking for you," Caleb continued, looking at me.
"Demanded Headmistress Thorne turn you over.
When she said you weren't there, they didn't believe her.
Called her a liar. And then—" His voice cracked.
"They started killing people. Students, faculty, anyone who tried to stop them. It was a massacre."
"How many?" Kairen's voice was cold, deadly.
"We don't know yet. We got maybe five hundred out—students who could fight their way through, faculty who evacuated who they could, anyone who made it to their bonded creatures fast enough to fly away.
" Caleb's face was ashen. "The rest are still there.
Either dead or captured. The Academy is burning.
The main hall collapsed. The North Tower—your old quarters—it's rubble now. "
Through the soulbond, I felt Kairen's absolute fury. Five hundred escaped. Out of how many? A thousand students? Twelve hundred? That meant half or more were gone.
Dead or captured because someone wanted me.
"Mom," Caleb said, his voice desperate as he looked at Elara. "I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to send people. So I told everyone—anyone who made it out—to come here. That the Draxen estate was sanctuary. That you'd help. Was I—"
"You were right," Elara said, her voice remarkably steady despite the horror in her eyes.
"This is sanctuary. Anyone who made it out is welcome here.
" She turned to Lyssa, who was standing frozen with shock.
"Lyssa. Run to the staff quarters. Wake everyone.
Tell them we're preparing for mass casualties.
Every spare room, every building on the estate, every inch of available space.
We need medical supplies, food preparation, emergency shelter. Move!"
Lyssa ran, her ten-year-old legs carrying her faster than I'd thought possible.
"Kairen," Elara said. "Can you and Serenya handle medical treatment? Healing magic for critical injuries?"
"Yes," I said, forcing my voice steady despite the exhaustion already dragging at me. "But there will be too many. I can't—hundreds of injuries—"
"You handle the worst cases. The ones who will die without immediate intervention." Elara's voice was firm. "We have regular healers for everything else. But critical cases need dragon bond healing."
Through the soulbond, I felt Kairen's grim determination. "She can do it. I'll support her with shadow magic, reinforce her light, give her reserves to draw from. We'll save who we can."
The sound started then—dozens of approaching creatures. Griffins carrying multiple passengers, phoenixes with students clinging to their backs, wyverns bearing entire groups. The sky was filling with evacuees.
They began landing in waves across the estate grounds. Not the organized arrival I'd imagined, but chaos—students falling off exhausted creatures, faculty members shouting for help, injured people being carried by those slightly less injured.
And behind them all, visible in the distance, a red glow against the evening sky. The Academy, burning.
"Medical treatment at the main entrance!" Elara's voice cut through the chaos with commanding authority. "Critical injuries only! Everyone else, move to the gardens and wait for assessment!"
I ran toward the worst cases—a student with half her face burned away, barely recognizable.
A faculty member with his leg nearly severed, holding it together with what looked like his own belt as a tourniquet.
An older student with a chest wound that bubbled with each breath—punctured lung, possibly punctured heart.
"Start with the lung," Kairen said, his hands already on my shoulders, shadows flowing into me to reinforce my depleted reserves. "That one's critical. The others have minutes. He has seconds."
I dropped beside the student with the chest wound, calling light with hands that shook from exhaustion. The injury was massive—sword thrust that had gone straight through, missed the heart by inches but destroyed the lung completely.
Through the soulbond, Kairen's shadow magic wrapped around my light, multiplying its effectiveness. Twilight healing on a scale we'd never attempted.
The lung began regenerating. Slowly. Too slowly. The student was dying faster than I could heal.
"More," I gasped. "I need more power—"
Kairen's shadows flooded through me, and I felt Nyx through him—the ancient dragon lending her strength to her bonded human who was lending it to me. Power that dwarfed anything I'd accessed before.
The lung regenerated completely. The chest wound sealed. The student gasped, his eyes flying open as he could suddenly breathe again.
"Next," Kairen said, already moving me toward the faculty member with the severed leg.
We worked through the critical cases one after another. Burns that should have killed. Wounds that should have been fatal. Injuries that regular healers couldn't touch.
Through it all, more evacuees kept arriving. The Draxen estate's grounds were filling with hundreds of people—students sitting in shocked groups, faculty members organizing who they could, bonded creatures hovering protectively over their humans.
And everywhere, the same questions: Where's the Headmistress? Is the Academy really gone? What happened to the people who didn't make it out?
"Here!" A voice called from near the entrance. "Headmistress Thorne is here!"
I looked up from healing a third student with massive internal injuries to see Headmistress Thorne landing on a borrowed phoenix.
She was covered in blood—not hers, I thought, based on how she moved.
Her clothes were torn, her hair disheveled, but her eyes held the same steely determination they always had.
Behind her came more faculty—Professor Veyra, Master Wren, Professor Aldric, others I recognized. All of them bloodied, exhausted, but alive.
"Get her to Elara," Headmistress Thorne commanded, pointing at me as she dismounted. "She'll need coordination for this many—"
"Already coordinating," Elara called from where she was organizing students into groups. "Medical treatment is being prioritized. Food and shelter are being prepared. We have space for everyone."
Headmistress Thorne's expression shifted—relief, gratitude, grief all mixed together. "Thank you. I didn't know where else to bring them. The Academy is—" Her voice cracked. "It's a loss. Complete loss. Buildings destroyed, wards shattered, at least half our students and faculty—"
She stopped, unable to finish the sentence.
Dead. At least half dead.
Six hundred people. Maybe seven hundred. Gone because someone wanted me badly enough to destroy an entire Academy.
"The attackers?" Kairen asked, his voice cold.
"Retreated once they realized you weren't there. They took—" Headmistress Thorne's expression was grim. "They took prisoners. Students they captured before we could evacuate everyone. We estimate two hundred people were taken alive."
Two hundred prisoners. Plus however many dead. The numbers were incomprehensible.
"Who organized this?" Kairen demanded. "An attack this large requires months of planning, hundreds of soldiers, coordination that goes beyond anything we suspected."
"I know exactly who organized it." Headmistress Thorne's voice was hard as steel.
"Because they left their calling card. House Ashwood banners.
House Gray financial documentation—they weren't even trying to hide their involvement.
This was a public declaration that they're willing to destroy anything to eliminate Serenya. "
Through the soulbond, I felt Kairen's cold fury crystallizing into something sharp and dangerous. They'd attacked openly. Destroyed an Academy. Killed hundreds. Taken prisoners.
"They declared war," he said quietly.
"Yes." Headmistress Thorne looked around at the five hundred evacuees filling the Draxen estate grounds.
"They declared war on dragon bonds, on the Academy, on anyone who sheltered you.
And now—" Her eyes found mine. "Now we respond.
But first, we save who we can. How many critical cases have you healed? "
"Fifteen," I said, my voice shaking with exhaustion. "But there are more—"
"Then keep healing. I'll coordinate with Lady Draxen to handle everything else." She moved away, already organizing, already planning.
I returned to the wounded—one critical case after another, Kairen's shadows reinforcing my light, twilight healing pushing past exhaustion into something that felt like burning from the inside out.
Twenty cases. Twenty-five. Thirty.
The sun had set completely by the time we'd addressed all the critical injuries. The Draxen estate was lit by magical lights, by cooking fires being prepared for massive food distribution, by the glow of healing magic being applied to hundreds of lesser wounds.
Five hundred people. Refugees from an Academy that no longer existed. All of them displaced, traumatized, many injured.
All because someone wanted me dead.
I finally collapsed when there were no more critical cases, my body simply refusing to continue. Kairen caught me before I hit the ground, shadows wrapping around us both protectively.
"Enough," he said firmly. "You've saved everyone who would have died tonight. The rest can wait."
"There are still people hurt—"
"And other healers can handle non-critical injuries. You're done." His arms tightened around me. "You've done enough."
Through rapidly fading awareness, I saw the scope of what the Draxen estate had become—every building lit, every space filled with people, the grounds transformed into emergency refugee camp. Five hundred people who'd survived an army that had destroyed their home.
"What happens now?" I whispered against Kairen's chest.
"Now we provide sanctuary. Let everyone rest. And then—" His voice was cold, promising violence. "Then we destroy the people who did this. Completely. Permanently. No mercy, no half-measures. They wanted war. They're going to get it."
Through the soulbond, I felt his absolute conviction. This wasn't just about protecting me anymore. This was about avenging six hundred dead. About rescuing two hundred prisoners. About making sure the people responsible understood exactly what happened when you attacked dragon bonds.
"Together," I managed before darkness took me.
"Together," he confirmed. "Always."
I passed out in his arms, surrounded by five hundred refugees, while two ancient dragons circled overhead and somewhere in the distance, the Academy I'd called home burned to ashes.
The war had begun.
And somehow, we'd have to survive it.