Chapter 6 #2
He scanned the room. “There have been others, initiates who were chosen but could not withstand it. Their minds cracked. Their bodies failed. Some died instantly.” I sat perfectly still.
I’d read stories, ones that said the chosen experienced seizures, vision loss, and unbearable pain.
That the gods watched them from the veil, testing their worth.
That some screamed of voices in their heads that were not their own. Gifted by a god… or destroyed by one.
The fourth tier was the highest honor. And the greatest risk. I gazed down at the triangle on the parchment in front of me. And I wondered, for the first time, what Aiden must have gone through. What it cost him to survive it.
“I can handle the divine gift,” a cocky cadet across the room boasted with a smirk, earning a few snickers from his friends. Professor Quinell didn’t blink.
“Even if you do survive the initial forging,” he said evenly, “it is not guaranteed you’ll live to see next year.
The power is unstable, raw. It feeds on emotions.
And left unchecked, it burns through its host.” The boy’s smile faltered.
“Those who wield the gift, or curse, depending on who you ask, train every single day to keep it from consuming them. And even then, it’s never easy.
” By the time the professor turned back to the board, the boy had gone pale, his bravado vanishing like smoke.
By lunch, Ryan was still thinking about it.
“Well, that became ominous,” Ryan muttered as he dropped into the seat across from me in the feeding hall, his tray piled high with food as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. I arched an eyebrow.
“Do you always eat that much?” Gia asked as she sat beside me, narrowing her eyes at the towering heap.
Ryan gave a smug grin and flexed his right arm. “How else am I supposed to keep these bad boys big?” He kissed his bicep like a complete idiot.
I shook my head. “You look ridiculous.”
“He is ridiculous,” Luna added as she slid into the seat next to him. Ryan beamed as though she’d complimented him. Honestly, I didn’t think anything could upset him.
“Anyway,” he said between mouthfuls, “I hope I get body augmentation.”
“Your dick won’t grow in size, Ryan,” Luna replied flatly, glaring at him.
“You don’t know that,” he replied, still chewing.
“Actually, I do,” she shot back, and they launched into an argument about magical genital enhancements that I desperately tried to tune out.
My gaze drifted, my thoughts circling over what Professor Quinnell had said about Keiran.
About the fourth tier. If it were true, if Keiran could channel God tier magic into his followers, it wasn’t just rare.
It was unheard of. And incredibly dangerous.
Something was happening beneath the surface. Something Arcanna wasn’t prepared for.
I didn’t notice the prickling sensation at the base of my skull at first. Not until I looked up, drawn by instinct more than thought, and found Aiden.
He took a seat across the hall with the other unit leaders, posture rigid, sharp jaw set, his expression unreadable.
But his gaze, those piercing jade eyes, were locked directly on me.
A jolt ran up my spine. Beside him was the Athena unit leader, that same black-haired woman who whispered something to him during our welcoming ceremony. I couldn’t remember her name.
Brandon lounged at the far end of the table, laughing with the Hera leader, who seemed like she’d rather be anywhere else.
But Aiden didn’t laugh. He didn’t smile.
He stared. Like he knew what I’d been thinking.
Like he could sense the storm brewing inside me before I could define it myself.
I rolled my eyes and looked away. I hated when he did that, eyed me like I was some kind of puzzle to be solved.
It made my skin itch, made me want to march across the hall and demand to know what his problem was.
“Ryn?” Alaric’s voice pulled me back. He was standing beside me, his hand brushing mine lightly.
“Yeah?”
“You, okay?” Concern laced his tone. I nodded quickly, pasting on a smile, even as I remained painfully aware of Aiden’s gaze lingering on me.
I scooted over on the bench to make room for Alaric.
Across the table, Luna and Ryan were deep in a heated debate about whether pumpkin juice was “an autumnal blessing” or “a crime against beverages.” Alaric settled beside me, his brows drawing together. “How are you feeling today?”
“Much better,” I replied with a small smile. “I’ve been visiting my aunt daily for pain relief, but sparring’s not exactly helping the ribs. That third tier really did a number on me, and the daggers don’t help.” I nudged my food around with my fork, appetite gone.
“You’ll get used to them,” he said gently, glancing at the blades resting on the table beside my plate. “But you should be wearing them. Are you improving with your fighting?”
I shrugged. “Yes and no.”
“Well,” he leaned in slightly, that familiar, easy smile warming his face, “if you want some extra lessons, I’m free in the evenings after studying. We could spar a bit, just the two of us.”
I smiled, hoping my cheeks didn’t give me away. “Yeah. I’d like that.” From across the table, Gia arched a brow, clearly noticing something. I carefully avoided her gaze.
“Can I sit with you guys?” Jackson’s voice chimed in as he walked over, brushing a hand through his dark hair. His bangs fell slightly above his brows, and I didn’t miss the way Gia’s cheeks flushed when she peeked up at him.
“Sure,” Luna replied before casually smacking Ryan’s hand away from her plate. “Stop stealing my beef sticks, you feral raccoon.” Jackson took a seat as Ryan turned to him with a grin that was all mischief.
“So, Jackson,” he asked, voice brimming with playful innocence, “do you think your dick will get bigger if you get body augmentation?” The table fell into stunned silence for a heartbeat.
Jackson blinked. “No… but that would be sick.”
“That’s what I’m saying!” Ryan exclaimed, triumphant, while Luna rolled her eyes so hard, I thought they might get stuck.
Gia burst out laughing, Jackson chuckled under his breath, and even Alaric cracked a smile.
I looked around at them, my unit; my chaotic, weird, fiercely loyal little group, and despite everything, I felt…
good. Like maybe I belonged here, even if this school was brutal and the world outside worse.
And as I glanced back at Alaric, who was already watching me, that quiet flutter returned. Everything about this felt right.
The early morning sun was just beginning to crest over the horizon, spilling a soft golden glow across the clearing.
Dew clung to the tall grass, and a low mist curled around the base of the Arcane mountain, as if it were a secret not yet ready to be told.
I stepped onto the worn path leading to the Trifecta, the obstacle course looming in the distance as though it were a beast waiting to devour me.
My ribs still ached from the last fall, and my knee wore a faint bruise the color and shape of spilled wine, but I couldn’t stop.
I wouldn’t. The Fourfold Rite was only weeks away now, and if I couldn’t conquer that fourth tier, I’d be just one more name on a gravestone.
Another box of belongings shipped home. I stood there staring up at the course, dread coiling in my stomach when I heard footsteps behind me.
“Cadet Yarrows,” came a warm, gravel-rich voice.
“What brings you out here this early?” I turned to see Professor Firebeard approaching, his red hair catching the light like flame.
He seemed as though he belonged on a battlefield, not standing quietly in a training yard at sunrise.
And yet, the way he carried himself, steady, grounded, gave me more comfort than I’d ever admit aloud.
“Just trying to get in some practice before the big day,” I replied, suddenly unsure if I was even allowed to be here alone. My boots shifted in the dirt.
He noticed. “You can be out here,” he said kindly, resting a heavy, reassuring hand on my shoulder. Train as much as you like. In fact, you’re the first first-year I’ve seen this determined.”
I gave a shaky smile. “Is that a good thing?”
His eyes twinkled. “I’m not sure yet. Is it paying off?”
I hesitated, then confessed, “The maze is easy now, and I can breeze through the second tier. The third one leaves me gasping like a dying fish, and the fourth—” I glanced up at the mountain where the impossible slope waited for me at the top, “might actually be the devil in disguise.”
Firebeard chuckled, folding his arms across his broad chest. “Well, if anyone can make it up that devil’s back, it’s you.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because there are no rules saying you can’t use your head to survive,” he replied, shooting me a wink.
“And a clever girl like you? I expect creativity.” As he walked off, his words rang in my ears.
No rules. Use your head. I took a breath, my hands curling into fists at my sides. Alright then. Let’s see what I’ve got.
I bolted into the maze. The familiar twists and turns were muscle memory now; my boots flying over dirt and stone.
The wind cut across my cheeks as I raced into tier two, jumping the moving blocks with a precision I never thought I’d have.
My chest ached, my body protested, but I didn’t stop.
The third tier greeted me with swaying ropes and narrow ledges.
Birds cried above as I launched myself from platform to platform.
When I reached the fourth tier, the same boulder thundered down the slope.