Chapter 60
I woke to pale morning light filtering through unfamiliar windows and the sensation of small, warm weight pressed against my side.
For a moment, disorientation—this wasn't the North Tower, wasn't the guest quarters, wasn't anywhere I recognized. Then memory crashed back. The attack. Yesterday. The Academy burning. Five hundred refugees arriving at the Draxen estate. Healing until I'd collapsed from exhaustion.
I turned my head carefully and found Lyssa curled up beside me, her dark hair spread across the pillow, still deeply asleep. Her small hand was clutched in mine.
Through the soulbond, I felt Kairen nearby—awake, vigilant, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos.
The door opened quietly and Kairen entered carrying a tray of food. His shadows were darker than usual, agitated despite his controlled expression. When he saw I was awake, relief flooded through the soulbond.
"You're awake," he said, setting the tray on the bedside table. "Good. You've been unconscious for fourteen hours. I was starting to worry."
"Fourteen—" I tried to sit up and my body protested every movement. Every muscle ached like I'd been beaten. "What happened while I was out?"
"We established organization. Mother has the estate running like a military camp—housing assignments, food distribution, medical rotations for ongoing treatment.
" He settled carefully on the edge of the bed, his eyes moving to his sleeping sister.
"Five hundred and twenty-three people total.
We're still getting stragglers, people who hid and made it out hours after the initial evacuation. "
"Lyssa?" I asked quietly, looking at the small form beside me.
"Hasn't left your side since Mother put you to bed last night.
" His voice was soft, affectionate. "She was fine initially—helping organize, staying busy.
But around two in the morning, she woke up screaming.
Nightmares about all the blood, about Brooke almost dying, about people crying for help.
Mother tried to calm her, but she kept asking for you.
Said you saved everyone, that you'd make sure she was safe.
" He paused. "So Mother brought her here.
She fell back asleep the moment she was next to you. "
Through the soulbond, I felt his complicated emotions—gratitude that I could comfort his sister when he couldn't, concern about a ten-year-old being traumatized by witnessing mass casualties, fierce protectiveness of both of us.
"She saw too much," I said quietly, carefully extracting my hand from Lyssa's grip so I could sit up properly. "Five hundred injured people arriving throughout the evening, blood everywhere, Brooke nearly dying—that's a lot for a ten-year-old to witness."
"It's a lot for anyone to witness." Kairen handed me a plate of food.
"But yes, she's struggling. She saw things children shouldn't see—people dying, horrific injuries, mass trauma arriving at her home.
And then she saw you healing people, saving lives, and decided you were the safest person to be near. "
I ate while Kairen briefed me on the rest of the situation. Elara had opened the entire estate—every building, every guest house, every spare inch of space. The staff had worked through the night preparing food and supplies. Scouts had been sent at first light to assess the Academy damage.
"They returned an hour ago," Kairen said grimly. "The main buildings are destroyed. North Tower is rubble. The training grounds are scorched earth. The wards are completely shattered. The Academy as we knew it doesn't exist anymore."
"How many—" I couldn't finish the question.
"We don't know exact numbers yet. Of the roughly twelve hundred students and two hundred faculty at the Academy, we have five hundred and twenty-three accounted for here. That leaves..." He stopped, jaw tightening. "That leaves roughly nine hundred unaccounted for. Dead or captured."
Nine hundred. The number was incomprehensible. Yesterday morning, those people had been alive. Eating breakfast, attending classes, living their lives. And now—
"The attackers?" I asked.
"Retreated after several hours of occupation. Took prisoners—we estimate around two hundred people captured alive. The rest—" His voice broke slightly. "The rest didn't make it out."
Seven hundred dead. Two hundred prisoners. Five hundred survivors.
All because someone wanted me and I hadn't been there.
Through the soulbond, Kairen felt my spiraling guilt and moved closer, his hand finding mine.
"This isn't your fault," he said firmly. "You didn't attack the Academy. You didn't kill those people. The conspirators did. House Ashwood, House Gray, House Brennan—they're responsible. Not you."
"They attacked because I wasn't there to find."
"They attacked because they're genocidal fanatics.
Your presence or absence didn't change their willingness to commit mass murder.
It just changed whether they'd have found you.
" His grip tightened. "If you'd been there, you'd be dead or captured right now.
Instead, you're here, alive, and able to help survivors.
Don't waste energy on guilt when rage at the actual perpetrators is more useful. "
Beside me, Lyssa stirred, her eyes fluttering open. When she saw me awake, her face crumpled and she threw her arms around my neck, holding tight.
"You're okay," she whispered fiercely. "I was scared you wouldn't wake up. You used so much magic saving everyone and then you just collapsed and I thought—"
"I'm okay," I assured her, hugging her back. "Just exhausted. But I'm fine now."
"Good." She pulled back, wiping at her eyes.
"Because everyone needs you. All the students who got hurt, they keep asking about the light dragon bond who healed them.
And Brooke said you saved her life. And Mother says you're family now, which means you can't die because family doesn't die, they just—" Her voice broke. "They stay together."
"I'm not going anywhere," I said, even though I couldn't actually promise that. "And you're very brave for handling everything that happened yesterday."
"I'm not brave. I just hid when the injured people started arriving. Stayed out of Mother's way while she organized everyone." She looked ashamed. "I should have helped more."
"You're ten years old," Kairen said gently, ruffling her hair. "You're not supposed to help during mass casualty events. You're supposed to stay safe so Mother doesn't worry while she's helping everyone else."
"I guess." But she didn't look convinced. "Can I come to the meeting? I want to hear what Headmistress Thorne says."
"Yes," Elara's voice came from the doorway. She entered, looking exhausted but composed, and carrying something wrapped in dark cloth. "Everyone comes to this meeting. Students, faculty, staff, children—everyone who's part of this sanctuary needs to hear what happens next."
She moved to stand beside the bed, her eyes on Kairen. "But first—" She held out the wrapped bundle. "These are your father's. I've kept them in storage since he died, waiting for the right time. After yesterday, after everything—I think that time is now."
Kairen's hands shook slightly as he took the bundle. Through the soulbond, I felt his surge of emotion—grief, love, painful memory.
He unwrapped the cloth slowly, revealing two scimitars. Both were completely black—not painted, but forged from some dark metal that seemed to absorb light. The curved blades were elegant, deadly, perfectly balanced. The hilts were wrapped in black leather, worn smooth from years of use.
"Father's swords," Kairen breathed. "I haven't seen these since—"
"Since before you bonded with Nyx. Since before everything changed." Elara's voice was thick with emotion. "He was the best blade master in three provinces. These swords were his pride. And he would have wanted you to have them now, when you need them."
"Mother—"
"He loved you, Kairen. So much. And he would be so proud of who you've become—how you survived the void, how you've protected Serenya, how you stood up to the Council." She touched his face gently. "Take his swords. Use them to protect the people who need you. That's what he would have wanted."
Through the soulbond, I felt Kairen's overwhelming emotion—grief for his father mixing with determination to honor his memory, to be worthy of these weapons.
"Thank you," he managed, his voice rough.
Elara kissed his forehead, then straightened. "Now. Get ready. The meeting starts in thirty minutes. Everyone needs to hear what comes next."
After she left, Kairen sat holding the swords, his shadows wrapping around the blades like they recognized something kindred in the dark metal.
"He taught me everything about blade work," he said quietly. "From the time I was eight until the day he died. Every form, every technique. He said swords were extensions of will—that a master didn't just fight with them, they thought with them."
"They're beautiful," I said.
"They're deadly." He tested the weight, the balance.
Even sitting still, I could see how naturally the weapons fit his hands.
"And apparently I'm going to need them. Headmistress Thorne sent word earlier—she wants me specifically to help train students in blade work.
Says I'm the best in our year, that she needs experienced sword fighters to teach the basics. "
"You are the best," I said. "I've watched you train. You move like the blade is part of you."
"That's what Father taught me. Not to hold the sword, but to become it." He set the scimitars carefully on the bed. "Come on. We should get ready. People are waiting."
The main hall of the Draxen manor had been transformed to accommodate five hundred people. Chairs, benches, even floor space was filled with survivors. Students sat in tight groups, seeking comfort in proximity. Faculty members stood along the walls, their expressions grim.
And near the front, I saw Brooke and Caleb sitting together—Brooke still pale but upright, Caleb's hand clasped tightly in hers. When they saw us enter with Lyssa between us, relief flooded both their faces.
"You're awake," Brooke said as we approached. "Thank gods. I wasn't sure if—" She stopped, her voice breaking slightly. "Thank you. For healing me. Caleb said I was dying, that without you—"
"You're alive. That's what matters." I settled into the seat beside her, Kairen taking the one on my other side with Lyssa climbing into his lap.
"Half the Academy isn't," Brooke said quietly. "I keep thinking about all the people we knew. Marcus from Magical Theory. That second-year who was always singing in the dining hall. Professor Carith who taught creature behavior." Her eyes were red from crying. "They're just... gone."
I felt Caleb's grief mixing with rage. "We have names now. Confirmed casualties. Seven hundred and thirty-two dead. One hundred and eighty-seven captured. Five hundred and twenty-three escaped."
The numbers were somehow worse than the estimates. Real people, counted and confirmed as gone.
"The prisoners," Kairen said. "Any word on location?"
"Not yet. Headmistress Thorne has scouts out." Caleb's jaw tightened. "But Kairen—they took students. First-years, second-years. People who can barely defend themselves. Whatever they're planning—"
"We'll get them back," Kairen interrupted, his voice cold. "When we have intelligence, we'll plan rescue. Until then, we focus on what we can control."
At the front of the hall, Headmistress Thorne stepped forward. When everyone had settled—when the last whispered conversations had died and the only sound was occasional sobbing from students still processing trauma—she began to speak.
"I'm not going to sugarcoat what happened," she said, her voice carrying through the hall with the aid of amplification magic.
"Yesterday, the Academy was attacked by an organized force of approximately eight hundred soldiers.
They came looking for one person—Serenya Vale, our light dragon bond.
When they discovered she wasn't there, they destroyed the Academy anyway.
Buildings were burned. Wards were shattered.
And—" Her voice cracked slightly. "And we lost seven hundred and thirty-two students and faculty.
Dead. Gone. One hundred and eighty-seven were taken prisoner.
Five hundred and twenty-three of you escaped and are here now. "
The hall was completely silent except for quiet weeping.
"We need time to grieve," Headmistress Thorne continued, her voice firm but compassionate.
"Time to process what happened yesterday, to mourn who we lost, to begin healing from trauma.
Lady Draxen has generously offered this estate as long-term sanctuary.
We have space, we have food, we have safety.
So take time. Grieve. Rest. Heal. No one expects you to be functional immediately after surviving what you survived yesterday. "
Around the hall, some of the tension eased slightly. Permission to not be okay was powerful.
"But," Headmistress Thorne continued, "we will not let those attackers destroy what we've built completely. We will not give up on education. We will not abandon the purpose that brought us together in the first place."
She gestured to where faculty members stood. "We still have teachers. We still have knowledge to share. We still have students who need training—now more than ever, given what we've witnessed."
"Starting in one week, we will resume classes here at the Draxen estate.
Modified schedule, adapted curriculum, but classes.
Creature Taxonomy with Professor Veyra. Magical Theory with Professor Aldric.
Combat Training with Master Wren. All of it.
" Her voice held fierce determination. "We'll use the estate grounds, the buildings Lady Draxen has opened to us, whatever space we need. "
I saw reactions shifting around the hall—from despair to surprise to something that might have been cautious hope.
"We'll use our resources creatively," Headmistress Thorne continued. "Third-year students with advanced skills will help teach combat classes. Those of you with expertise in specific areas will assist faculty. We'll share knowledge collectively."
She looked directly at Kairen. "Mr. Draxen—you're the best blade fighter in your year. I need you to help train students in sword work, dagger techniques, close combat with bladed weapons. Work with Master Wren to coordinate."
Through the soulbond, I felt Kairen's acceptance of the responsibility. "I will."
"Professor Veyra—anyone with creature bond experience who's willing to help with instruction, see me after this meeting."
"Combat training," Master Wren added, stepping forward.
"Third-years with weapons proficiency—I need you.
Mr. Draxen will handle bladed weapons instruction.
I need others for hand-to-hand combat, basic magical defense, tactical formation.
We have hundreds of students who need training, and I can't do it alone. "
Around the hall, I saw some of the older students sitting straighter. Purpose. They were being given purpose beyond just surviving.
"The Academy didn't end when the buildings burned yesterday," Headmistress Thorne said. "It continues here, in us, in the community we rebuild. Yes, we lost people. Yes, we're displaced and traumatized and grieving. But we're also survivors. And we're going to recover."
"What about the prisoners?" someone called from the back. "The one hundred and eighty-seven people they took. Are we just... giving up on them?"
"Absolutely not." Headmistress Thorne's voice was steel. "I have scouts gathering intelligence on where they're being held. When we have actionable information, we'll plan rescue operations. But rushing in blind gets more people killed. We're being strategic, not abandoning them."
The meeting continued for another hour—logistics of housing, food distribution, medical care, class schedules. When it finally ended, people began dispersing to their assigned tasks.
Master Wren approached our group, her expression grim but determined.
"Draxen. I need you to assess weapons we have available, plan training schedules for blade work.
We have students who've never held a sword, students with basic training, and a few with advanced skills. Need to organize them into groups."
"I can do that." Kairen stood, his hand briefly squeezing mine. "When do we start?"
"Tomorrow. Let people grieve today. But tomorrow, we begin.
" She looked at the rest of us. "Barnard—once you're recovered, I need you helping with griffin bond coordination.
Caleb, you're assisting with tactical formation training.
Vale—" She paused, looking at me. "You continue healing as needed and work with Professor Aldric on magical theory instruction.
Your twilight healing is unprecedented. We need to document it, teach others what we can. "
After she left, we found ourselves alone in a quiet corner of the grounds. Brooke leaned against Caleb, still clearly exhausted from yesterday's injury and healing.
"This is really happening," she said quietly. "We're rebuilding here. Continuing the Academy in exile."
"We're surviving," Kairen corrected. "And planning to rescue the prisoners when we can. And holding conspirators accountable eventually. But yes—we're continuing education while we do it."
"Your father's swords," Caleb said, noticing the black scimitars strapped to Kairen's back. "Mother gave them to you."
"This morning. Said he would have wanted me to have them now." Kairen's voice was quiet. "To use them protecting people who need it."
"He'd be proud," Caleb said. "Of how you've handled everything. How you protected Serenya, how you stood up to the Council, how you're stepping up now to train others."
Through the soulbond, I felt Kairen's complicated emotions—grief for his father mixing with determination to be worthy of his legacy.
"Tomorrow we start training," he said. "Blade work for students who need it. Combat skills that might keep them alive if—" He stopped. "When we go to rescue the prisoners. When we eventually face the conspirators."
"We're preparing for war," I said quietly.
"We're preparing to survive," Kairen corrected. "And to make sure what happened yesterday never happens again."
In the distance, Aurelius and Nyx circled the estate in protective patterns. Two ancient dragons who'd survived one genocide, now protecting survivors of another attempt.
Below us, five hundred survivors continued their day. Some grieving, some already organizing, some just existing because that was all they could manage.
Yesterday, seven hundred and thirty-two people had died.
Today, five hundred and twenty-three were choosing to survive.
Tomorrow, they'd start rebuilding.
Classes would resume. Training would continue. Knowledge would be shared.
The Academy hadn't ended when the buildings burned yesterday.
It had just transformed into something that couldn't be destroyed by fire or armies.
Into people who refused to give up.
"Together," Brooke said quietly, her hand finding mine, Caleb's, Kairen's—all of us connected.
"Together," we echoed.
Through the soulbond, I felt Kairen's determination mixing with love, grief mixing with hope.
We'd lost so much yesterday.
But we hadn't lost everything.
And what remained was enough to rebuild from.
One day at a time.
One survivor at a time.
One step toward the future neither of us had planned but all of us would fight for.
The Academy would rise again.
Just differently than before.