Chapter 13 Fenix
The week after the incident was even harder.
The pain from the healing was gone, but the humiliation still burned like an ember under my skin.
Between the late-night training with the twins and Shakari and the dual coursework, I was barely sleeping.
My agenda was overflowing. Even if I had been heavily injured on the terrace, Dragontail didn’t believe in excuses.
I was expected to attend every single class, no matter how exhausted I was.
Now, alongside everything else, new faction-specific magic classes are being held twice a week. This morning, we gathered in the open-air arena where the Callings had taken place. Heat shimmered off the stone; the scent of smoke and hot metal clung to the columns in warning.
The stands were split clean down the middle.
To the west, every first-year Sunheart wearing bright robes, restless energy, crackling anticipation. To the east, the Moonveils first-years in cool silence, shadows pooling at their feet.
I sat with Rowan, Tran, Soehl, and Shakari on the Sunheart side, our little group forming a small island of familiarity amid the low murmurs of excitement and nerves. This was the only class where legions didn’t matter, Dragontail, Emberkeep, Auroric, none of it. Only faction. Only magic.
Sunhearts would learn to wield flame in all its forms, to bend heat and light and fire itself. The Moonveil would learn to command shadow, its movement, its silence, its power to conceal or strike.
Two halves of the island.
Jan Radke, my only Emberkeep acquaintance, spotted me instantly and came over with a confident grin. “Mind if I sit?” he asked, already settling beside us.
I gave a polite nod. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Soehl giving him an unmistakable once-over.
He noticed, answering her glance with a faint, knowing smile.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, the kind of strength carved by years in the western mines.
Where boys hardened into men beneath the weight of rare metals and stone pulled from the island’s depths.
Then Thalen walked in with Marla Yung at his side. And behind them, Lorik Draventh and Rory Rey followed in their dark Moonveil uniforms. For once, the ruthless Moonveil counselors would be stationed on the opposite side of the arena. Lucky me.
But Fate balanced the scales in the cruelest way possible.
Because on my side—the Sunheart side—I now had my ex-boyfriend and the girl he’d cheated on me with. And Marla Yung still despised me with the same enthusiasm she used while warming Thalen’s bed.
Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
I knew exactly why Thalen had volunteered as a counselor for this class: to watch me, to hover, to pretend he was my loyal guardian in front of an audience. But showing up with the girl he’d betrayed me for?
Not exactly the most brilliant strategy if he planned to win me back.
The Sunheart class to master the flames began as soon as Thalen and Marla joined Professor Vao and Professor Chen at the front, their presence commanding the attention of every first-year Sunheart in the room.
“First-year Sunhearts,” Professor Vao’s clear voice carried across the arena, silencing the chatter.
“This class will meet twice a week. You will learn to master the full range of your flame, from delicate carving to elemental creation. Your legion doesn’t matter here.
Flame recognizes only the strength of its master. ”
“By the end of this course, you will not only command fire, but you will also shape it,” Professor Chen said, her voice carrying through the hall.
“You will learn to bend it into art, into weaponry, into life itself. Our focus will be creation, not destruction. Remember, creation demands precision, it’s far more difficult than tearing something apart.
Some of our Dragontail peers may find that…
frustrating.” His gaze flickered toward the back row before continuing.
“Since this is a large class, Miss Yung and Mr. Barret will be assisting with instruction.”
Her words washed over me, but I felt distant and numb, as if I were watching everything through thick glass.
My body was heavier than stone, weighed down not just by fatigue but by dread, worry about losing control, fear of everyone watching for me to fail.
If there was one thing I already mastered, it was this.
My tutors at the Glass Castle had drilled this into me.
I could etch my handwriting into marble, forge daggers from molten stone, even summon flaming horses to pull a carriage before they dissolved into sparks.
I didn’t need another ornamental class; I needed control over my emotions, over the magic that kept trying to spill out of me.
My gaze drifted unwillingly to the east side of the arena, where Lorik and Rory were demonstrating shadow manipulation.
Tendrils of darkness coiled around a boulder the size of a wagon wheel, lifting it with effortless control before setting it back into place.
Then the shadows shifted, spreading outward into a dense, seamless shield, Moonveil’s greatest advantage, a defense capable of swallowing other magic whole, stronger even than wind barriers.
For a single, wicked heartbeat, I imagined igniting from across the arena, unleashing a burst of flame big enough to incinerate them both and be immediately stripped of my magic for murdering fellow Dragontails.
Honestly? At that moment, with anger and hurt churning in my chest, it almost felt worth it.
The arena was filled with noise and the thick scent of fire and smoke. Jan turned to me with a grin. “Looks like we’re partners, Solenhart.”
I blinked. “What exactly are we supposed to do?”
He chuckled, sparks dancing at his fingertips. “You weren’t listening, were you? We have to form a Fenix as detailed as possible. Wings, feathers, movement.”
“Easy, let’s do it,” I said, stepping down into the arena beside him.
“Easy for you,” he replied with a wry laugh. “I only know how to destroy things with fire.”
We both started our assignments. The Fenix was a Sunheart tradition, a symbol of rebirth, discipline through fire. First-years shaped it every spring to prove mastery over emotion; lose control, and the flames would consume your creation.
I summoned the flame between my palms, steadying my breath until the heat took shape. The air rippled, golden light twisting into wings, feathers, and a slender neck. My Fenix rose, shimmering in light gold, every plume catching the sunlight like molten glass. It came easily, too easily.
Beside me, Jan was trying to command his flames into forms, and I could tell he was having a hard time but was slowly making something out of it.
“I told you this was not for me,” Jan smirked. “So what are you and your roommate and… your other friends doing this weekend?”
“I am sure my roommate Soehl will go to Wolventon if the twins and Shakari win the challenge in the Hall of Mirrors this week,” I responded, adding more details to my Fenix. “As for me, I will probably not go anywhere since I am not close to winning any challenge.”
“I would—” he began, but Thalen’s cut sharply over him, silencing him mid-sentence. “Focus on the assignment, miner. Not on flirting with the heir of Solenhart.”
Jan turned, a smirk tugging at his lips. “If you think this is how I flirt, you’re very wrong.” His tone was teasing, careless, the kind that only made things worse.
Flames flared along Thalen’s arms, white, and searing. I froze, the forming wings of my Fenix dissolved into smoke. “Thalen…” I warned, but it was already too late. Shakari, Rowan, Tran, and Soehl turned toward us, sensing the shift in the air.
“You really think Thea Solenhart would waste her time with a lowborn commoner like you, Jan Radke?” Thalen’s words dripped with cruelty.
Jan’s expression darkened, but before he could respond, Thalen’s magic erupted— controlled and precise. White-gold fire coiled from his hands like living ropes, wrapping around Jan’s wrists. The light flared, binding tight.
Jan shouted, jerking back. His boots scraped against the marble floor as he tried to wrench free.
The flames only tightened, coiling around his wrists like molten chains.
The light hissed where it met his skin, the scent of scorched fabric filling the air.
Thalen didn’t flinch. His expression was carved from stone.
His control was terrifyingly precise, too precise.
The fire obeyed him like a living thing, beautiful and merciless.
Around us, the class fell utterly silent. Spells hung unfinished in midair, dissolving into sparks as every student froze. No one moved. No one breathed. The only sound was the crackle of Thalen’s fire and Jan’s ragged breaths. The air itself shimmered with heat and unease.
“Thalen, stop!” I shouted, my voice trembling with fury and fear as golden fire burst to life in my palms, bright and wild with anger. My heart pounded painfully against my ribs, a sick twist of panic and protectiveness rising in me.
For a moment, he held my gaze, defiance and something darker flickering behind his eyes. Then, slowly, the flames unraveled into smoke, vanishing between us.
I shot Thalen a look that could have turned stone to ash while Soehl hurried to Jan’s side, her palms glowing with soft gold. The light rippled over his burned skin, smoothing it in seconds until not even a scar remained.
Jan flexed his wrists, testing them, then lifted his gaze with a crooked grin. “Jealous type, huh?” he said, his tone edged with mockery. “Don’t worry—I’m not interested in the Princess. Not that you deserve any explanation.”
I seized Thalen by the arm and dragged him toward the edge of the arena, the echo of our footsteps swallowed by the professors’ voices as they hurried to calm the class and redirect everyone back to their work. Heat still clung to the air. His, mine, and the tension between us.
“What is wrong with you?” I demanded, spinning to face him. “It’s like you’re two different people. The good and kind Sunheart and then… this, the general’s son.”
His jaw tightened. “He can’t just invite you out like that,” he muttered.
“He wasn’t,” I shot back, my voice trembling but steadying with every word.
“But that’s not the point. We may be betrothed, but that doesn’t mean you own me.
” My hands shook, fire flickering faintly at my fingertips.
“That display was pathetic, Thalen. Whatever you thought you were fixing between us, you just buried it. You’re not better than anyone else here, no matter how noble your bloodline. ”
He didn’t reply. I turned and walked back, leaving the silence to settle behind. When I returned, Jan stood back while everyone else resumed creating their Fenix.
“Better than ever,” he said with a smirk. “Your pretty friend healed me. I… was never flirting with you, Princess.”
“I know, you like my roommate.”
He just smiled, unbothered, almost proud to have been caught in the truth. We turned back to our task, the flicker of our Fenix taking shape once more between us.
My father would have liked Jan.
He’d been the kind of Sunheart who never let titles build walls.
Though an Emberkeep general, he dined with warriors, fought beside the Dragontail legions, and drank from the same flasks they carried into battle.
He used to say that a leader who knew their soldiers by name ruled with more strength than any crown ever could.
And I wanted to be like him, not the kind of queen who hid behind marble walls, but one who stood beside those who kept the island alive. The ones who burned not for glory, but for survival.