Chapter 130
Ellie's POV
The headache comes without warning.
One second, I'm sitting in class, half-listening to a lecture about restorative flow patterns while copying notes from the board.
The next...
It feels like someone drove a blade straight through my skull.
My pen stops mid-word.
My breath catches.
Pain pulses behind my eyes—sharp, hot, and relentless.
I blink.
Once.
Twice.
Okay.
Ow.
I sit there, trying to figure out what just happened.
Is it my cycle?
No.
That was two weeks ago.
Did I not drink enough water?
I glance down at my bottle sitting beside my bag.
Almost empty.
Okay.
Maybe.
No.
That doesn't feel right.
Still...
I force myself to focus.
I keep writing.
It's probably nothing.
Maybe exhaustion.
Maybe stress.
Maybe the result of barely sleeping and spending every waking moment thinking about things I desperately don't want to think about.
Or maybe my brain is just protesting everything that's happened lately.
Whatever it is, I'll deal with it later.
Except...
It doesn't go away.
The ache lingers.
Then grows.
Slowly spreading from behind my eyes down into the base of my neck.
My stomach twists.
Nausea settles in, heavy and uncomfortable.
I wipe my forehead.
My skin feels damp.
The professor's voice becomes harder to follow.
The words stretch.
Blur.
Fade into meaningless sounds.
Did I get sick?
By the time the lecture ends, my notes barely make sense.
I don't even remember packing my things.
"I'll be right back."
I mutter it more to myself than anyone else.
A girl beside me pauses, looking over briefly, but she's already gathering her books.
I leave before anyone can ask questions.
The bathroom tiles are cold beneath my hands.
I grip the sink and lean forward, splashing water onto my face.
Again.
And again.
My reflection looks wrong.
Too pale.
Too tired.
My eyes seem unfocused, like some part of me isn't fully connected.
I stare at myself.
"Gods..."
I haven't felt this bad since the night I was stabbed.
Since the poison.
Since I died.
I rub my face.
"Get it together."
My voice is barely a whisper.
The pain doesn't listen.
It throbs harder.
Pressure builds until it feels like my skull might split open.
I tighten my grip around the sink.
Wait.
Just wait for it to pass.
Come on.
I have things to do.
Apparently, my body doesn't care.
The bell rings.
The sound is painfully loud.
By afternoon, I'm barely functioning.
The academy gathers us to observe the Management students during their mock combat training.
Normally, I'd be interested.
Normally, I'd be analyzing every movement.
Instead, I feel like I'm walking underwater.
Everything is delayed.
Everything feels far away.
Heat crawls over my skin.
Sweat dampens the back of my neck despite the cool air around the arena.
I sway slightly.
Just enough to notice.
Not enough for anyone else.
At least, that's what I tell myself.
"Ellie?"
I flinch.
My head snaps toward the instructor.
For a moment, the entire room tilts.
The walls shift.
The ground feels uneven.
Then it settles.
"I'm fine."
The answer comes automatically.
The instructor raises an eyebrow.
"I didn't ask if you were fine."
His gaze narrows.
"Are you prepared to treat an injury if one occurs?"
I lift my thumb.
"Yes."
A little too quickly.
He studies me for another second before turning away.
I shift my weight.
Focus on breathing.
Focus on staying upright.
Focus on not drawing attention.
Then the training begins.
The sound of practice weapons colliding fills the arena.
Sharp.
Loud.
Each impact vibrates through my skull.
My stomach twists.
I press a hand against it.
Then—
A shout.
A stumble.
The instructor's voice cuts through everything.
"Healer!"
My head lifts.
A figure moves toward me.
Tall.
Familiar.
A student steps away from the ring, a shallow cut visible along his arm where a practice blade caught him.
I force myself forward.
My legs feel unsteady beneath me.
The student watches me approach.
For some reason...
He stops several feet away.
"Come here."
My voice sounds weaker than I want.
I reach for his arm.
My fingers close around his wrist as I bring the injury closer.
"Y—"
My voice catches.
I clear my throat.
"You'll be fine."
A quiet laugh.
"I know."
I freeze.
"I've had worse."
My gaze snaps upward.
Even through the haze...
I know that voice.
Dominic.
He's standing in front of me, blurred by the heat and the sunlight streaming through the arena.
But those eyes...
Those impossible, familiar eyes...
I know them.
For a moment, I forget how much everything hurts.
Out of habit more than anything else, I start treating the wound.
Bandage.
Pressure.
Healing.
The movements are familiar.
Comforting.
Except...
Something is wrong.
The energy doesn't flow properly.
My movements hesitate.
Like something is resisting me.
Like my own magic is fighting against itself.
Pain explodes behind my eyes.
Bright.
Blinding.
I gasp.
Dominic notices immediately.
"Ellie?"
I try to answer.
I really do.
But the room shifts.
Violently.
The sounds around me stretch and distort.
The edges of my vision darken.
Black spots spread across my sight.
My fingers loosen around his arm.
My hands feel numb.
"I think..."
The words barely leave my mouth.
Then the ground disappears.
The floor rushes toward me too quickly.
But I never hit it.
Strong arms catch me.
Dominic.
His voice breaks through the chaos.
Alarmed.
Afraid.
"Ellie."
And then everything goes black.