Chapter 27
Aiden’s POV
After Rynlee left, the room seemed colder, emptier.
I exhaled heavily and dragged a hand through my hair again, a habit I was starting to hate but couldn’t seem to stop.
Her words lingered. You can do this. I didn’t know if I truly believed her…
but I wanted to. And if nothing else, I owed it to her to try.
I pushed the fear down and straightened my shoulders, focusing on the task at hand.
I sketched out escape plans, alternate routes through the old caverns beneath the academy, fallback points in the forest, and last-resort portals that could take us to the secluded castle I had kept hidden from everyone but a few.
If we lost the academy, we’d at least have a place to regroup.
The surrounding air shifted. And before I could process it, I was back in the moon realm, the silver-black sand under my boots, the swirling dark sky overhead.
“You have the worst timing,” I muttered, spotting Khonsu near the shore of the void lake. But I stopped short when I saw his expression. The ancient god of the moon, my mentor, my tether to this power, looked afraid. “What is it?” I asked, stepping closer. My gut twisted.
“I researched that magic, Aiden,” he replied, voice low.
“And it’s worse than I thought.” He held a dark stone in his palm, shimmering faintly with a pulse that matched the corrupted runes Rynlee had found.
“That magic,” he said, “it belongs to a god. Not just any god, a dark one. One who doesn’t want balance or order.
One who just wants to rule.” An icy chill traced down my spine.
“Do you know the name of this god?” I asked, my voice barely steady.
Khonsu shook his head slowly. “No. But only a god could create corruption that deep. But I haven’t heard of a God able to walk among the mortal realm like that. We are only allowed to speak to those God Marked and or step into the veil to watch, but never to interact,” he explained.
“Well, Rynlee found corrupted runes, like the magic you are talking about,” I replied, pacing on the silver sand. “They… speak to me. My shadows are drawn to them, and I don’t know why.”
He stiffened. “Runes that draw your shadows?”
I nodded. “Yeah. We’ve discovered two near the victims’ bodies. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.” Khonsu’s jaw clenched, and for once, I saw something close to panic flicker in his dark eyes.
“That confirms it. That kind of manipulation of death-born runes? That’s not just a god’s doing. It’s an ancient god. And if it’s the one I’m thinking of…”
“Does the name Erebus mean anything to you?” I asked.
Khonsu froze. “…What did you say?”
“Erebus,” I repeated. “Is that who we’re dealing with?” His face turned pale. Truly pale.
“Aiden,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “If it’s him, we’re already running out of time. He—” And just like that, the realm ripped away. No warning. No fade. I was slammed back into the commander’s office with a gasp, as if the breath had been knocked out of me.
I sat up, blinking rapidly. “What the fuck?” Khonsu hadn’t dismissed the connection.
Which meant something else had severed it, forcefully.
I stood, the silence in the room too still, too unnatural.
Someone had been here. I moved into the hallway just in time to catch a flicker of movement.
Short violet hair vanished around the corner. Ivy.
Without hesitation, I opened a portal and stepped right in front of her. She stumbled back, surprised. “What the fuck are you doing, Ivy?” I demanded, eyes narrowing.
“Nothing. Just walking,” she replied casually, but her hand was clenched tightly at her side.
My shadows began curling around my boots like smoke. “What’s in your hand?”
“Nothing.”
My patience snapped.
“I’m only going to ask you one more time,” I growled. “What do you have in your hand?” She huffed dramatically and slowly uncurled her fingers, revealing a black rune. The pulse of it was undeniable. My heart kicked, and the shadows hissed with hunger.
“I found it,” she said quickly. “Outside.”
Bullshit.
I snatched it from her palm before she could react. The second it touched my skin; a surge of darkness rippled through me. My shadows flared violently, whispering in a frenzy behind my eyes.
“You said outside?” I asked, barely keeping control. She nodded stiffly, finally meeting my gaze, but I could see the lie in her stare. She wasn’t just hiding where she found it. She was hiding why.
I stuffed the rune into a warded pouch at my side, the hum of it still buzzing through my bones. “That’ll be all,” I stated coldly, my meaning clear. Ivy hesitated; her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, but then she thought better of it and walked away.
I didn’t watch her go. Instead, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and whispered to myself: “…Erebus.” I cast my shadows through every inch of the academy, every nook, every forgotten hallway, every dim-lit corner.
The courtyard, the showers, the dorms, the training ground, they searched it all.
But he was nowhere. “Fuck,” I growled, stepping back into my office with my portal and pacing across the room.
My shadows retreated, just as exhausted as I was.
Erebus seemed to be gone, or he was hiding very well.
Hours later, a knock broke through the silence. “Come in,” I called, not looking up from the parchment sprawled on my desk. Jasmine stepped inside, arms folded behind her back, her boots clicking softly against the stone floor.
“We gave the professors their punishment,” she reported. Her voice was steady, but the tightness in it hadn’t faded.
I let out a slow breath, some of the tension leaving my shoulders. “Good. Hopefully, that teaches them something.” My quill hovered over the next set of orders, a reinforcement strategy for Kerian, should we need their help. Which I was beginning to suspect we would.
“So… what’s the plan now?” Jasmine asked, stepping closer.
“I want wards placed around the academy, tight and reinforced through Arcanne Mountain,” I replied, finally setting the quill down. “The runes up there still hold power. With the right markings, we can create a border that slows whatever’s coming.”
“Smart,” she nodded. “And what do you need me to do?”
“Keep an eye on Ivy,” I replied flatly, lifting my gaze to meet hers. “There’s something off about her.”
Jasmine blinked. “Ivy? Why her?”
“I don’t trust her. Just… watch her,” I repeated. She hesitated, then nodded. She moved around the desk, her fingers settling gently on my shoulders. I tensed immediately.
“You’re tight,” she murmured, starting to rub them.
I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. “Jas…”
“Aiden, let me please help you,” she said, her voice tinged with desperation. But I couldn’t do this anymore. I stood, stepping away and putting distance between us.
“Look, I’m sorry, but this isn’t going to work anymore,” I stated. The hurt and frustration that crossed her face almost made me falter.
“Why? I thought we were going to make this work, Aiden. You told me the bond meant nothing.”
“And I meant it. At the time, I didn’t understand how hard this bond was going to affect me, Jas. I can’t help that the gods bonded us together.”
Tears pricked her eyes.
“I still love you, Aiden. I want to be with you.” Gods. That hurt.
“Believe me, Jasmine, I wish it were you,” I said quietly. “But it’s not. And I need to figure out what this bond is doing. I need to focus on protecting this school before Gods know what happens.”
“Do you still love me?” she asked. That was a loaded question. “Do you love her?”
I let out a heavy sigh. “I’m honestly not sure what I fucking feel, Jasmine. All I know is we aren’t working out. I can’t give you what you need or what you want anymore.” A tear slid down her cheek, but she wiped it away, drawing in a shaky breath.
“Fine. I’ll watch Ivy,” she replied softly. “But I guess we’re done.” I reached for her hand.
“I still care about you, Jasmine. I still want you to find happiness. You deserve it.”
She pulled away this time. “I know. I’ll see you around.” And with that, she turned and walked out, shutting the door quietly behind her.
I stared at the closed door for a long moment.
Part of me hurt, the part that always wished it was her.
Jasmine had been my closest friend. The one person who understood me better than anyone.
But it wasn’t fair to keep her when my eyes kept searching for Ruin.
When I was bound to someone else. Someone I wasn’t even sure I loved yet.
This was for the best. For her and for me.
Over the next few days, I ensured the wards were reinforced, drawing power directly from Arcane Mountain. I briefed every unit, making sure they understood the threat we were facing. And still… no sign of Erebus.
It was as if he had vanished into shadow, which only confirmed what I already knew.
He was behind the killings. He was the god walking among us.
I sent word to Kerian and Derek, warning them whatever was coming wasn’t only war, it was something older, something that would strike when we least expected it.
They needed to be ready. The academy seemed different now.
Heavier. Colder. It used to feel like home: hard, unforgiving, but still ours.
Now it felt more like a cage. A place where the ticking of death echoed louder with every passing hour.
I stepped out into the snow-covered field where, not so long ago, Rynlee, Firebeard, and I used to train.
Arcane Mountain loomed in the distance, half-hidden by a gray sky, and I realized it didn’t feel like just months had passed since this all began. It felt like decades. Snow drifted down silently. The cold didn’t bother me, not with ice coiling through my veins.
I pulled the rune from my pocket and turned it over in my palm.
My shadows stirred immediately, swirling around it like smoke drawn to flame.
They didn’t fight it this time. They welcomed it.
The rune pulsed subtly, dark, and rhythmic.
It called to something inside me. Something I wasn’t sure I was ready to name.
“What are you doing?” Alaric’s voice cut through the stillness, making me tense. I curled my fingers around the rune instinctively and slipped it into my pocket before turning toward him.
“Just thinking,” I replied, eyes dropping to the snow-covered ground at my feet.
He stepped closer, arms crossed over his chest to keep in the warmth. “Is it true?” he asked quietly. “About Dad? Rynlee told me it was a demon.”
I let out a slow breath, then glanced at him. “You’re not mad at me anymore, right?” A smirk tugged at my lips despite myself.
Alaric rolled his eyes. “No, Aid. I think I’ve come to terms with it.” He paused, studying my face. “So… is it true?”
I met his gaze and nodded. “Yeah, unfortunately.” His brows furrowed, worry settling in the familiar way it always did when he was trying not to panic.
The silence stretched for a beat, cold and heavy.
“Look,” I said finally, the words coming out rougher than I intended.
“Whatever happens when this war eventually hits, when everything goes to shit, I want you to know…” I hesitated, then forced it out.
“I do love you.” The words felt strange in my mouth. Unfamiliar. But true.
Alaric blinked, then tilted his head with a grin. “Did you just say you love me?”
I scoffed. “Yeah. Don’t get used to it.” Before he could say anything else, I slung an arm around his neck and pulled him into a quick chokehold, ruffling his hair, longer now than it used to be. “And don’t let it go to your head.”
“Trust me, I won’t,” he laughed, punching my arm as I released him. “But I love you, too, bro.” We stood there for a moment, breath fogging the air. He looked out toward the horizon, expression softening.
“Do you think Dad’s still alive?”
I shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t know.” A faint smirk curved my mouth. “But knowing our dad, he probably gave them hell if he isn’t.”
Alaric let out a slow breath. “I miss the old days. Back when snowball fights were our biggest problem.” I grinned and scooped up a handful of snow, hurling it straight at his shoulder.
“Who says they still aren’t?” He blinked, brushing snow off his sleeve, just in time for me to nail him square in the face with another.
“You are so dead,” he growled, laughing now.
“Ooh, bring it on, little brother.” Snow flew between us, cold biting at my fingers as our laughter echoed across the empty field. For a few stolen minutes, nothing else mattered. When it finally died down, I caught his gaze.
Without thinking, I lifted two fingers and traced the slow swirl in the air.
His eyes softened. The corner of his mouth twitched into that familiar, quiet smile.
He returned the motion. And for that moment, the war didn’t exist. We weren’t soldiers.
Or leaders. Or heirs to a fight we never chose.
We were just brothers. And even if I didn’t realize it then, I’d cling to this moment until the day I died.