Chapter 6
Six
W ithin Eclat Castle, dormitories were divided between first-year students, known as novices, and second-year students, called veterans.
Novices inhabited the West Wing, past Magique Moderna, where Professor Ross had informed them their theoretical portion of the Symbiotic Synergy course would be held. Along the way, he pointed out buildings and campus areas imperative for novices to know.
Alaire noted them all, forming a mental map of the grounds.
Professor Ross avoided making eye contact with her. She guessed it had something to do with his determination to evade her questions. Alaire was sure her reasons for being here went beyond anything he’d claimed.
She’d keep pushing him for answers. But their journey had taught her he’d only reveal what he chose to, when he chose to.
In the meantime, she’d find her own answers—his office, administrative records, the library.
Somewhere in this castle was evidence explaining why a magicless human had earned a place amongst the fae elite.
No one offered salvation without expecting payment in blood.
“Twenty minutes to change,” Professor Ross instructed the assembled novices. “I’ll be waiting to escort you to Historia Hall. Don’t be late.”
Alaire shut her door and pressed her back against it, eyes closed. Exhaustion clawed at her from the inside out.
The room was spacious. High-arched ceilings gave it an airy feel. Dark stone walls, the same as the castle’s exterior, were cold beneath her fingertips as she traced the surface, searching for any irregularities that might betray hidden mechanisms.
Beautiful or not, she’d learned that any room could become a cage.
To her left, a door led to a miniature spa.
A large stone soaking tub dominated the space.
Sustained by House Aqualis’s magic, it would fill at the touch of a button, according to Professor Ross.
Alaire planned to spend the entire evening letting the warm water uncoil every tight muscle in her body.
Her room curved with the castle’s architecture, one of the West Wing’s parapets. Alaire’s bed was massive, with wood posts rising to sharp points and a canopy draping above it. She trailed her fingers over the edge of the carved bedpost, the wood polished to a gleam. Everything here was beautiful.
But it felt hollow, like an echo of a life that had never been hers to claim.
A tiny fireplace sat opposite the bed, accompanied by a single settee. An aged oak desk held a few essentials provided for her: parchment, writing utensils, and a small stack of leather-bound textbooks.
The desk faced a narrow window stretching from floor to ceiling, flooding the room with light. Ivy crept along the edge of the glass. Her view faced north—the Serenity Gardens spread below, and beyond that, a forest of ebony trees: the Woods of Whispers.
She scanned the room, eyes combing the space for anything out of place—a strange draft, a loose stone, furniture positioned slightly wrong. Nothing seemed amiss, but unease lingered.
Sets of functional leathers lay across her bed. The same style she’d seen on the arrogant fae male.
She shoved her limbs through the durable yet surprisingly comfortable uniform. Quickly, she wrapped the braid that fell down her back into a bun. If they wanted to stare at her rounded ears, she’d give them an unobstructed view.
“You’re the human, right?”
Alaire was locking her door when she heard the question. Something about the voice—the easy familiarity, the lack of venom—felt familiar. A lump formed in her throat. Sweeping her eyelids toward the ceiling, she blinked back the unexpected surge of emotion. Now wasn’t the time for it.
The last thing she needed was to deal with someone else, but the simultaneous click of the door behind her didn’t give her much choice.
“What gave it away?” she replied to her door sarcastically.
“The ears.”
Creative. Alaire resisted running her hands over their shape.
She turned, slipping on her mask of indifference. “I was given an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
Across the hall, a fae female leaned against the doorframe, radiating casual confidence.
Long auburn corkscrew curls pointed in several directions, the rest tumbling down the front of her leathers—wild, loose, free in a way Alaire envied.
Deep almond-shaped eyes were set in a heart-shaped face with smooth, flawless skin.
She gave Alaire a blinding smile that revealed a dimple in her right cheek.
She was nothing short of breathtaking.
The female cocked her head. “Everyone will either avoid you like Umbra’s last plague or make it their personal mission to break you,” she said.
Alaire studied her, waiting for the cruel twist in her words. All fae were the same. “And which one of those are you?”
“Neither. I don’t care if you’re human or a toad. Aeris Academy isn’t the pinnacle of my existence.” Her subtle accent told Alaire she was from somewhere far from Cielore. “Being here isn’t my first choice. Get in, learn what I need to, then get out. Simple.”
Another outsider? Alaire analyzed the fae. Everything about her exuded warmth, not like the ice-cold air wielders of Cielore.
“You’re not from here.”
“Smart too. I knew we’d get along.” She smirked. “House Arculum.”
She clasped her palm tightly, then reopened it. Tiny waves of lightning danced across her fingers.
A storm wielder from Lyra.
Alaire racked her brain for what she knew of the territory. Lyra was Cielore’s strongest military ally, separated by the Azalea Lakes and Scorched Marsh.
The lightning vanished as the fae extended her hand. Alaire studied it, wariness warring with something she couldn’t quite place.
“Not exactly the friendly type, are you?” Mirth danced in her eyes.
Alaire couldn’t afford to trust anyone, but she was also an outsider who needed every advantage. And something about this female’s easy warmth painfully reminded her of the friend she’d failed to save.
One less enemy didn’t sound so bad either.
“Not exactly.” Alaire clasped her hand in a firm grip.
“I’m Kaia, by the way,” she said.
“Alaire.”
“Kinda knew that.” She slipped her hands into the pockets of her leathers.
A few other novices passed through the corridor, pointedly avoiding eye contact.
“We should get going.” Alaire’s gaze followed her peers down the hall. “Professor Ross will have our hides if we’re late.”
Kaia fell into step beside her as they approached the rear of the group. Every head turned in their direction. Kaia waved cheerfully and slung an arm around Alaire’s shoulders.
Alaire moved to the right, stepping out of her embrace. Kaia flashed her a wink and simply adjusted so their elbows brushed together.
“Ladies, delighted you could finally join us,” Professor Ross called.
Kaia responded with an enthusiastic thumbs-up that made Alaire bite her lip to suppress her laughter.
“So, what do you know about these Celestial Familiars?” Alaire whispered as they followed the group.
Kaia’s eyes sparkled. “I’m bonded to one.”
“No way,” Alaire gasped.
“I know,” Kaia replied with a sly grin.
“What does—” Noticing they had an audience, Alaire pressed her lips together. A few of the fae ahead of them had turned to stare.
“I’ll fill you in later,” Kaia promised.
Kaia was a flier. If she was from House Arculum, she must’ve bonded with an arcstorm—a celestial that could summon and command storms. Alaire had heard they were streaked in shades of grey, silver, and blue, with flashes of yellow across their feathers, sleek black beaks, and talons. But she’d never seen one in person.
Alaire tilted her head as her thoughts began to whirl. Flying. Maybe being stuck here wouldn’t be all bad after all.
Historia Hall was a monolithic space in the castle’s East Wing.
The lecture hall was the largest classroom on campus, doubling as a space for general assemblies.
It was laid out in the shape of a diamond with two-tiered levels of seating.
An elevated round platform with a small lectern sat in the center of the room.
But it was the ceiling that stole the breath from her lungs.
Diamond vaults soared to meet in sharply pointed arches, converging upon keystones masterfully carved with images of Lysia, Umbra, and Elithian’s creation story. Stained-glass panels muted the world outside into hues of deep indigo and crimson.
Kaia jabbed Alaire in the spine. “Keep walking.”
Professor Ross led the novices to a reserved section of the hall, a few rows from the front of the platform.
As they filled the seats, Alaire’s eyes swept the room.
I’m not looking for him , she told herself.
The space was already filled with second-years.
Judging by the number of stares boring into her, they all knew who she was.
Kaia bumped her shoulder as they filed into their designated row.
Alaire shifted in her seat, stealing glances at Kaia from the corner of her eye. She seemed open and kind—unlike any fae she’d ever met.
The fae striding to the podium commanded immediate attention. Aristocratic angles balanced out sharp eyes. Salt-and-pepper hair, a serious demeanor, and a freshly pressed tunic added to his distinguished appearance.
Headmaster Carth. The room fell silent at his arrival.
He leaned his forearms on the podium, making him appear more approachable.
“Welcome, everyone, to another year at Aeris Academy—the most formidable institution, dare I say, in all of Elithian.”
Snickers rippled through the crowd. Kaia rolled her eyes.
“Vampires continue to threaten our borders. They’ve resurfaced from years of silence—stronger, stealthier, and more lethal than ever. Aeris Academy has long stood as a beacon against the encroaching darkness. You will all bear that responsibility with unwavering resolve. This is no small task.”
He paused, letting the words settle. The room had gone quiet.