Chapter 5
Elora
Rowan broke the silence, his eyes darting around the group. “It… it doesn’t seem right. The way the masters acted… like Arria’s death was nothing.”
His tone was low, barely more than a whisper. It was as if he were afraid Thorn might hear him, even out here in the middle of the woods.
Alfie shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe… maybe they just wanted us to learn something,” he said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “Maybe they think we need to be stronger, to not show weakness… I don’t know.”
Ridiculous. Grieving what happened doesn’t make us weak. She wanted to believe the Empire wouldn’t hold their sorrow over their heads like it was something shameful, but then again, they expect us to act like them. Cold. Heartless. Detached.
“Strong? Or just obedient?” Lily asked with a sharper tongue than usual. “Because I’m starting to think they only care about control, not us.”
A hum of agreement passed over the group, but Rian’s voice cut through. “But some of them have been kind.” She was almost pleading, willing everyone to see her point of view. “Professor Acton helped me so much last year… It’s possible they were conditioned to act a certain way.”
Elora felt their words seeping into her consciousness, tugging at her from the depths of her mind. She wanted to stay lost in her thoughts, to shut everything out, but their company was persistent. Each word was like small pebbles dropped into the still, cloudy water of her shock.
Across the clearing, she could see Symond’s eyes flash in the darkness.
His mouth was a thin, hard line. The heat radiating from him was like a flame, threatening to ignite everything around it.
But for now, he held his tongue. Elora found herself staring, wanting to ask him what he was thinking.
But she couldn’t; the words were locked in her throat.
“Kindness means nothing if they let one of us die,” another voice argued. It was Marcus. “Arria deserved better than that.”
Symond finally spoke, his typical bitterness bleeding into every word.
“You’re all just now realizing we’re nothing to them?
That we’re just tools?” He let out a harsh laugh.
“They never cared about us. We’re here to serve their purpose, and if we can’t…
we’re worthless.” He looked around, almost tempting anyone to react.
“This is what it took for you to see that?”
Rian shifted closer to Elora. “What do you think?” she asked softly, trying to pull Elora into the conversation. But she didn’t respond.
Lily shook her head, eyes narrowing. “No, Symond. We know our purpose is to serve the Empire,” she muttered. “We just… I… just thought we mattered a bit more to them as people rather than as some tool.”
Symond snorted. “Then you’re dumber than I thought.” His fists dug into the grass, ripping chunks from the ground. “Believing the lie is easier, I get it. Helps you sleep at night.”
He shot Elora a sharp glance, his mouth twisting slightly. “Especially when some of us get special treatment.”
Of course, he would bring this up. That’s right, blame me for all of your problems. The sting of his words bit her skin, but she kept her expression neutral.
Rian rested a hand on Elora’s shoulder, her gaze sharply directed at Symond. “Stop blaming her for your problems. We all have it hard, Symond. Even Elora.” Thanks, Rian… That’ll definitely change his mind.
His head snapped toward Rian, eyes narrowing into slits. “Hard?” He exaggeratedly pointed at Elora. “You think she has it hard?” He barked a laugh, short and bitter. “Must be real tough getting coddled by professors while the rest of us get torn apart.”
“You’re not the only one who’s suffered.” Lily shot back at him. If she was baiting him, then he latched right on to the hook.
Symond moved fast, snatching a jagged branch from the ground. His eyes shifted from Lily to Rian, then to Elora. “Right, because we’re all treated exactly the same.”
Crack.
The branch slammed against a nearby tree. The sound of wood against bark split the air. Elora jolted, her nerves sparking. He was being reckless and emotional. It was a stark contrast to her stoic, deadpan demeanor, and it irritated her.
He struck again, harder. The wood splintered, sending jagged shards in all directions. “None of us are people to them.” Symond snarled. “We’re tools. You break? They’ll just find another.”
Each blow fell faster. The sound of wood slamming against the tree echoed like a drumbeat. Again. And again. Each hit punctuating his words.
“You think she knows what that’s like?” His gaze shot back to Elora, searing. “To beg for mercy that never comes?”
The branch finally shattered in his hand, splinters embedding in his skin. He didn’t seem to care. He hurled the broken pieces at the tree, a growl ripping from his throat and his chest heaving.
The clearing seemed to vibrate, the air thick and suffocating. No one said anything. No one even dared breathe.
Rowan scooted back. Rian’s hand flew to her mouth. Everyone recoiled. But Elora remained where she was, her fingers digging into the ground, the cool earth coarse under her fingernails.
Symond stood there, panting. A hollow laugh escaped his lips. “But sure, we all have it hard.”
What does he think he’s accomplishing with this?
A flare of anger ignited in Elora’s chest. She didn’t flinch at the sound of his ragged breathing or the tremor in his voice.
His theatrics were annoying. Useless. His words were another burden to her sorrow.
It was an unwelcome intrusion on the pain she was already struggling to contain.
The curfew bell rang out, a sharp metallic sound that cut through the tense silence of the clearing. The students lurched, their heads snapping up, eyes wide with sudden panic.
“We need to go,” Rowan said, glancing around frantically. “If they find us out here…”
One by one, they moved, pushing themselves up from the ground and casting nervous glances toward the path back to the Institute. The fear of punishment was enough to pull them from the gravity of Symond’s outburst.
Alfie stood slowly, his face tight, hands curling in front of him. It was as if he were waiting for permission to leave. He looked at Symond, who remained rooted in place, and then at Elora, now lying down in the grass. “Are you coming?”
Elora didn’t respond. She just stared into the darkness of the trees. Her thoughts were too tangled and heavy. She could feel the pull of the curfew bell, but it felt far away, part of a different world.
Lily urgently tugged on Alfie’s sleeve. “We have to go, now.” Alfie nodded, and they hurried off together, their footsteps quick as they crunched over the fallen leaves.
The others followed; some cast backward glances while others focused intently on reaching the safety of their dorms. The clearing slowly emptied, and with it, the hushed voices returned, trying to worm their way through Elora’s barriers.
Symond tilted his head toward the ground, his hands remaining clenched into fists at his sides. He seemed frozen in place. Why isn’t he leaving with the others? Just go.
Rian lingered, glancing back at Elora, who was still in the grass. “Come on, we have to go. We can’t get caught out here.”
Elora turned her head slightly but said nothing.
She wasn’t ready to leave yet. It didn’t matter if she stayed out past curfew.
Tehvan might warn her or send her to bed without dinner, but he wasn’t Thorn.
And, if she were being honest with herself, she knew Tehvan wouldn’t do anything to punish her. He hardly ever did.
Rian sighed, her shoulders sagging with resignation when Elora didn’t rise to meet her. “Just… don’t get in trouble, okay?” Again, Elora didn’t respond. Rian bit her lip, maybe wanting to say more, but she turned and hurried after the others. Now, it was just her and Symond.
Elora stared at him, waiting for him to head back down the path.
He looked tense, his shoulders rigid as he stared at the spot where Rian had disappeared.
Elora felt a distant throb of pain in her temples, and her chest felt hollow.
Her thoughts were like waves in the middle of a storm; she could sense the turmoil inside, but it was all muted and numb under a thick fog that refused to lift.
“Don’t get in trouble…” Symond muttered under his breath, followed by a low, mocking laugh. His words slipped through her haze, piercing it like a sharp needle. Irritation flared in the depths of her mind, small at first but growing.
“You never do, do you?” he said louder. His shadowed eyes were fixed on her. “Curfew and rules don’t concern you. You never get punished for anything.”
Her eyes rolled uncontrollably. Just leave me alone!
His words grated against the rawness inside her, pushing past her defenses. She felt the heat rising in her chest, and she desperately wanted to scream at him, to make him see how little his opinion mattered compared to everything else going on.
She lifted her head, glaring at him with something sharper in her steel-blue eyes now. “You’re right.” She said, challenging him. “I don’t get punished. But you do. So, why don’t you run along before Thorn gives you a smack on the wrist?”
Symond flinched, taken aback by her bluntness. His hands flexed at his sides like he wanted to pick up another stick and start whaling on her this time. “You think Thorn’s punishments are just a smack on the wrist?” He said each word slow and through clenched teeth.
Elora propped herself up on her elbows and met his gaze with a calm, almost bored expression. “No,” she replied evenly. “I think they’re exactly what you deserve. And if you’re so afraid of them, maybe you should stop tempting fate.”
His nostrils flared as he stepped closer, the moonlight casting his shadow over her like a looming threat. “You think Tehvan’s protection makes you untouchable?” he hissed.
She plucked absently at the grass beside her, her gaze fixed on some distant point. She wanted to hold on to the numbness that had been shielding her until now.
This was already taking more energy than she had to give. Why did he have to push her? What did he possibly think this was going to accomplish? He can’t hurt her.
“You can try to scare me to your heart’s content, Symond.
” She looked up at him, her eyes tired as if his animosity were a pointless, empty threat.
Because it was. “You can’t hurt me. Not unless you want to find yourself in Thorn’s office.
And you’re so close to finally escaping him, aren’t you?
” she murmured as she relaxed further into the grass. “No. You wouldn’t risk it.”
To her surprise, he crouched down beside her, bringing himself to her level. His face was inches from hers, his breath hot against her skin. Even in the low light, she saw the raised scars running along his jaw.
“You think you’ve got me all figured out?” He leaned even closer. “You think I wouldn’t risk it?”
Elora didn’t flinch despite every nerve in her body screaming at her to scoot away from him. She couldn’t do that. A display of fear would only give him what he wanted, and she refused to let that happen.
“I know you won’t. Because Thorn’s grip on you is tighter than you’ll ever admit. You wouldn’t dare lose your chance of escaping him. Not for me. Not for anyone.”
A muscle twitched in his cheek. He leaned over her, his fingers digging into the dirt beside her head.
She sensed the desperation behind his aggression.
He thinks he needs to prove himself. But she could barely feel any fear toward him.
There was only a dull detachment. He won’t do anything, she reminded herself. He can’t afford to.
“I could hurt you,” he whispered, a challenge simmering beneath the surface. His fingers slightly tugged at a few strands of her hair. She wasn’t sure if he meant to, but she refused to show him that it stung her scalp.
Her expression hardened. If he really thought this would achieve something, then he was a fool.
“Do it, then. If you’re so eager to prove something, go ahead.
Hurt me.” She didn’t know why she was challenging him.
He wasn’t the brightest; he could very well take her up on the offer and throw away his future just to prove a point.
But maybe a part of her almost wished that he would take the dare.
Allow her to feel something besides the void of grief that’s clouded her mind.
For a moment, the clearing seemed to freeze. Symond’s hand hovered near her face, his fingers twitching. She held his gaze, refusing to blink, daring him to act.
But with a frustrated snarl, Symond pulled back. Leaving deep indentations in the earth as he pushed himself to his feet and stared down at her. She wasn’t sure whether his cowardice brought her relief or disappointment.
“You’re nothing,” he spat, his hazel eyes still burning with barely controlled fury. “Tehvan’s little pet. Just wait until he’s not around to protect you anymore. Let’s see how brave you are then.”
“I guess we’ll see,” she replied calmly. “But for now, you’re the one who should be scared, not me.”
A guttural growl built in his throat. His threats weren’t shaking her, and it was driving him mad. “Maybe you’re right. But one day, you’ll be alone.” He leaned over her, blocking out the moonlight. “And when that day comes, I’ll make sure you know just how worthless you are.”
Elora’s jaw tightened, but she held on to her indifferent expression. “You’re pathetic,” she said, slicing through his threat. “A coward hiding behind your anger, too afraid to face your own fears.”
Symond recoiled, his face twisting with rage, but beneath it, there was a flicker of hurt. He studied her, and for a moment, his anger faltered. “What is wrong with you?” he muttered, resigning his previous temper.
Elora’s mind drifted, the numbness creeping back in like a mist over a lake. What a stupid question. Everything is wrong. She looked at Symond, but it was as if she were seeing right through him. How can he even ask that?
“What’s wrong with me?” she repeated, a bitter edge sneaking into her tone.
“I watched my best friend die, Symond. I watched her slip away, and I couldn’t do a damn thing to save her.
So, forgive me if I don’t have the energy to play whatever game you think this is.
I’m… I’m just done.” Her voice cracked on the last word.
Symond’s expression shifted, the anger in his eyes flickered with something softer. He opened his mouth as if to say something but decided against it. Without another word, he turned sharply on his heel and left.