Chapter 6
The campfire crackled softly, the only sound breaking the stillness of the cold mountain night.
Knowing she was awake next to me was the only thing keeping me from falling into an uneasy slumber.
Our teammates were bundled tightly in their bedrolls behind us, mercifully quiet—no snores to disrupt the fragile peace.
We still didn’t know why our elements weren’t working properly, but at least Survival Training had taught me to be prepared. I’d tossed the flint Professor Lamport gave us into my bag before we left for the campaign. Without it, we’d be freezing right now.
Laney sat beside me, poking at the fire with a stick, willing it to stay alive against the biting chill.
The flames danced and popped, illuminating her curls.
I was sure her comforting brown eyes would help ease my nerves, but I could only make out the side of her face.
We hadn’t expected the mountain air to be this unforgiving, and leaving our winter cloaks behind now felt like a rookie mistake.
“How’s it out there? Do dragons even get cold?” I asked Lakota.
Silence.
He was probably curled up somewhere, fast asleep with Drithan and Spear.
I shifted closer to the fire, whispering more to myself than to Laney, “I think we just need to imagine our happy place.”
“What’d ya say?” Laney murmured, her gaze fixed on the flickering flames. The firelight kissed the edges of her features, but she didn’t turn to look at me.
“Happy place,” I repeated, a little louder. “If we just close our eyes and imagine being there, maybe we’d forget how anxious we feel right now.”
Laney pulled the stick from the fire, twirling it between her fingers as its tip glowed with a stubborn flame.
Finally, she muttered, “I don’t think picturing my happy place is gonna save me from my grave.”
Bang, bang, bang.
I opened my eyes and rolled over on the bed, sucking in a shaky breath as I fought against the nausea twisting in my gut.
Bang, bang, bang.
“Leave me alone!” I croaked out.
The door to my hut burst open, sunlight flooding the space and stabbing at my eyes. I winced, covering my face with my hands to shield myself from the glare. A figure stood in the doorway, shrouded in the harsh light. Definitely not Rhodes—this one was shorter.
As she stepped closer, the shade receded, and I saw her features.
My features.
My hazel eyes stared back at me with hatred. Within three determined strides, Fallon stood over me, her shadow casting me in darkness.
And then, without so much as a warning, she grabbed the edge of my mattress and flipped it.
I hit the floor with a thud, landing awkwardly against the wall. “What the fuck!” I shrieked, my voice echoing off the cramped walls.
“Sulking time is over,” Fallon said, her tone sharp and commanding, as though she had just declared war.
Scrambling to my feet, I glared at her. “And who in the elements are you to tell me what to do?”
“Do you think this is a vacation?” Fallon snapped, sweeping her arm toward the door for emphasis.
“There’s a fucking war brewing out there, and you’re just lying in bed, eating our food, using our plumbing.
” Her eyes flicked over me, up and down, with a sneer that cut deeper than I expected. “Well. Obviously not to bathe.”
Heat flushed my face as I quickly glanced down—oily hair sticking to my neck, the same nightgown I’d been wearing for at least five days.
My hands instinctively tugged at the fabric, but when I met Fallon’s gaze again, her lips were curved into a smile.
Not warm, not kind—razor sharp, designed to wound.
“As I said,” she continued, venom dripping from her voice, “sulking time is over. Time to move on and get started.”
“Move on?” My voice cracked as I threw the words back at her. “You may shut off your humanity with a snap of your fingers, but I can’t! You have no idea what I’ve been through!”
“That’s where you’re wrong—on both counts,” she shot back, her eyes narrowing. “I’ve been following you through the marekem ever since I learned of your existence.”
My stomach twisted. “Which was when?”
“You want answers? Stop hiding, and I’ll tell you.”
“I’m not hiding!” I snarled, clenching my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms.
Fallon barked a humorless laugh. “What do you call this, then?” She gestured wide, her arms sweeping over the messy confines of my hut. “I broke you out of that pathetic excuse for a shed—”
My breath caught. “What?” I whispered, barely able to force the question out.
She hesitated for the first time, her jaw tightening as if weighing her words.
“You just locked yourself back into one. May not be a shed, but it looks like a personal prison to me. Except this time, someone is waiting for you on the other side. Worrying himself sick about your well-being. And you choose to stay chained up in here.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Fallon didn’t give me the chance.
She turned to leave but stopped in the doorway, glancing back with one last jab. “And for element’s sake, take a fucking bath.”
With a sharp flick of her arm toward the washroom, the roar of rushing water filled the hut. Then, without another word, she slammed the door behind her.
I stood frozen, staring at the closed door as her words echoed in my mind. Water element. She channeled water.
But I’m a mage—channeling both air and fire. Mages haven’t existed since the Battle of Mareki. At least, not to the public’s knowledge. Could it be possible for my twin sister to be one too?
The thought gnawed at me. There was only one way to find the answers I sought.
Stripping down, I stepped into the tub, letting the freezing water cascade over me. The chill bit at my skin, each drop a sharp reminder of my shame. I stayed under its punishing torrent as if trying to wash away not just the grime but the weight of every decision I’d made to end up here.
My hand hesitated midair as I reached for the doorknob.
How many times have I wanted to crawl out of bed and face the world head-on since waking up? Too many to count. But each time, the darkness within pulled me under, drowning me in whispers of powerlessness and worthlessness. Telling me I’m better off vanishing from this world entirely.
And I’d accepted it.
The light within me longed to throw my arms around Rhodes’s neck, to thank him for bringing me to safety. But the darkness sneered, telling me he’d never waste his time on a lost cause like me.
The light within me yearned to tease Lakota about his stress-eating, to help him recover the memories stolen from him. But the darkness mocked me, hissing that I’m nothing but a failure of a bonded rider.
The light within me wanted to craft a plan to help my friends escape Mageia’s suffocating lockdown. But the darkness insisted they’d turn me in for treason the moment they saw my face.
The light within me burned fiercely, aching for vengeance for Laney’s murder. But the darkness snarled, pointing its finger at me—it’s my fault she’s gone.
Every time the darkness snuffed out my light, I accepted it. But the ones I care about are on the other side of this door, and they’re hurting, too.
I would not accept that.
Laney chose to shine her light on me with her dying breaths. Her last words weren’t a plea or a goodbye—they were a gift, a spark to keep me going.
Keep writing.
And that was exactly what I planned to do.
My story wasn’t over.
I stepped out of the darkness, letting the door click shut behind me.
My attire had been chosen for me. There was one set of leathers left in my hut wardrobe. Thankfully, I blended in easily with the villagers around me as I made my way through the settlement. But I still kept my head down, avoiding eye contact.
The leathers differed from those at Mageia—these were dark gray, with far more pockets and hidden sheaths worked into the jacket and pants.
The material was thicker, lined with a thin layer of fur to fight off the mountain chill.
I also noticed an unfamiliar rune etched into the inside of the jacket.
Surprisingly, they were comfortable, fitting me like a second skin. The leather hugged every curve but allowed enough freedom for movement, clearly designed for utility and agility. Judging by the tailored fit, I was certain they came from Fallon’s wardrobe.
The village was much larger than I had imagined, sprawling in every direction.
I had assumed it would be a small, hidden place, easy to overlook since it had never appeared on any maps I’d seen.
But as I took it all in—its reach stretching for miles—I realized it would be impossible to miss.
The civilization was newer than any printed maps of Kalymdor or…
It was hidden deliberately.
That idea sent a trickle of unease down my spine, dragging me back to a memory of investigating Mageia’s library.
The morning after Lakota chose me during the Burn Trials, Chief Kalluri canceled all classes.
Tatum literally dragged me out of bed, eager to solve our unanswered questions.
Cleo, Laney, Tatum, and I spent hours in the oldest history section of the massive library, going through ancient tomes and scrolls.
The only inconsistency we found was in how the Mareki had been transcribed over time.
The elemental magic that powers our world was originally referred to as the Mareki Essence—not essences.
At first, we assumed it was just a misprint.
But this was the oldest scroll we’d ever uncovered, and the capital “E” in Essence suggested something more.
It hinted the Mareki might once have been something entirely different from what we know today.
Professor Hogboom urged us to keep an open mind. He also asked our class a question that most of my peers probably dismissed… but it kept echoing in my mind. Who knows what’s been left out of those texts?
He had announced his late arrival that day by slamming an old tome onto the podium, his eyes burning with something close to defiance. That was the last time I saw him—before he was found dead in his chambers, not long before Professor Reynoski met a similar fate.
Reynoski was murdered soon after he began asking questions no other professor dared to—questions he posed during the brief time I was recovering in the infirmary after the War Campaigns. Everyone knew the Campaigns were brutal—not just to win, but to survive the mountains at all.
Yet none of us were prepared to compete without access to our elements. Our team quickly realized that no one had full control over their magic once we set up camp. Davis and Shayde, as second-years, were just as stunned as Laney, Pehper, and me.
When Shayde and I were trapped in that fallen cavern, losing connection to our elements nearly cost us our lives.
Between us and Davis above, we might have escaped if our magic hadn’t failed.
By the time we were finally rescued and brought back to Mageia, I was eager to report everything—the strange occurrences during the campaign and the men we had stumbled upon inside that cavern.
But no one asked questions—no one except Professor Reynoski.
The Grim didn’t just steal their lives and elements. She silenced them before they could become a threat.