Chapter 7
Seven
A laire was running late for her next class. Leather-bound books clutched in hand, she took a sharp corner and flung open a heavy door, heading toward the Aether Ascend Towers.
She slammed directly into a fae, his robes billowing behind him like wings.
The man’s eyes lit with pleasure, as if she were exactly who he’d been waiting for. It made her skin crawl.
“Sorry,” she gasped. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“No need to apologize,” he said. White hair fell in a severe bowl cut, framing the fathomless pits of his eyes.
He looked familiar, but Alaire couldn’t quite place him. Was he a professor here? He was thin and slight, with sallow skin that emphasized the deep lines around his eyes.
Clack, clack, clack . His heeled boot tapped against flagstone in a rhythm that set her teeth on edge.
“Excuse me.” Alaire moved to step around him. She really didn’t want to be this late.
He moved with her, blocking her path. “In quite a hurry, aren’t we?” he remarked with a thin smile.
“Can I help you?” Alaire clenched her jaw, holding his stare.
He tilted his head, taking in her rounded ears with the satisfaction of a collector examining a prized specimen. “Ah, you must be the one causing all the… disruption I’ve heard about.”
“Apparently.” Her books pressed tighter against her ribs as she narrowed her eyes.
He began to circle her—slow, deliberate—cataloging her from every angle. “A human amongst fae. No magic to speak of, yet somehow you’ve managed to land yourself in these hallowed halls.” He smacked his lips. “That alone raises fascinating questions. And I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“Sounds like a you problem,” she said, skirting forward to continue on her way.
“Interesting,” he mused, cutting off her path again. “We’ll see about that.”
Nosy bastard.
“And you are?” Her instincts screamed not to trust him.
“Allow me to introduce myself.” He extended a hand she pointedly ignored. “Dexter Vale. Chief Advisor to House Aetheris.”
Alaire’s stomach dropped. Vale . The name hit her like ice water. Caius’s father. Another power player orbiting the prince.
“Seems like you have more pressing priorities than keeping a student from class.”
“Quite the opposite. I find it prudent to remain well-informed of our… unusual arrivals.”
Translation: He’ll be watching.
“Aeris Academy is a crucible,” he continued, resuming his circling.
“A place that tests the very essence of its students. Where elemental fae broaden their magical knowledge. You are neither of those things.” His smile widened, showing too many teeth.
“And trust me, this place will spit you back to whatever gutter spawned you—faster than you can imagine.”
Her lungs spasmed. She reminded herself to breathe through her nose. The last thing she needed was to let Dexter Vale see anything but her spite.
“You don’t know anything about me, Mr. Vale,” she said flatly.
And you never will.
“We know exactly how fragile human bones are when they break. Your species is vulnerable. Best reserved for certain tasks—but wielding magic isn’t one of them.”
He leaned close enough for her to smell sautéed garlic on his breath. “Your time here will be closely watched. Every move scrutinized.”
“I’ll be sure to make it entertaining.”
“You’re playing an interesting game, Ms. Aerendyl. And I’m not the only one waiting to see how it plays out.” He smiled again, relishing her defiance. “You’ll need more than snark and bravado. Best of luck. And remember—we’ll be watching.”
With that, Dexter Vale turned and walked away.
She wanted to do a full-body shudder. To disinfect every piece of her that his eyes had lingered on.
From one cage into another .
Alaire watched his figure disappear into the castle longer than she could afford, her thoughts racing.
Aeris Academy was an embodiment of arcane magic. Alaire had seen labyrinthine halls twist and turn like snakes shedding their skin, shifting in a way that defied logic. The castle had a mind of its own.
You could leave a classroom one day and find the corridor outside had changed entirely by the next, with doors that sometimes refused to open unless you solved a riddle, knocked in a certain rhythm, or spoke the right word.
Other times, a door would vanish altogether, trapping a student inside until a professor came to release them.
Windows revealed landscapes of places she’d never seen.
Over the past few weeks, Alaire had cycled through Aeris Academy’s courses. In Elemental Mastery, she’d watched students command water, earth, and air—the ceiling opening to summon actual storms.
Alaire observed from the periphery, learning about magic she would never wield.
Each class revealed more of this world denied to her: Professor Stere mumbling about ancient sigils in the rune-carved Versaille Labrinyths; the unsettling illusions of House Cerebral in the Obscurum Atrium; Professor Hale’s enchantment students in Historia Hall making objects float and shrink with precise incantations.
Alaire absorbed it all, always watching, never participating.
Without being bonded to a celestial, Alaire’s classes were with the majority of elemental fae who made up the population of Aeris Academy.
Elemental fae accessed their aether through a magical well within themselves. Each house was able to conjure a different element. The potency of their bloodline determined the depth and breadth of their magic. Those descended from original bloodlines were the most powerful at the academy.
She bit her lip as she thought of the infuriating prince.
Aether manifested in the palms of fae as if their magic was a malleable substance they could shape and wield to their will.
But power without control was dangerous.
Alaire had learned controlling that power, the exertion and precision it required, was no easy feat.
It’s why the fae sent their heirs to Aeris Academy.
Control. Release. Wielding. Balance.
Taking the steps two at a time to the Aether Ascend Towers, Alaire slipped into Professor Hale’s classroom. Students were clustered in their usual groups. Whispered insults followed her across the room, but she’d grown adept at ignoring them.
Despite identical uniforms, academy boundaries remained firm.
Her growing friendship with Kaia was an anomaly.
Something about her felt like home, and it should’ve sent Alaire running—but for the first time in so long, she felt seen and understood.
Against all logic, against every lesson she’d learned about survival, Kaia was becoming someone who mattered.
Unfortunately, Kaia’s bond with her celestial meant they shared few core classes.
“Settle down, everyone.” Chairs scraped against the floor as students took their seats.
“Welcome to Interdisciplinary Magic,” Professor Hale began, wheat-colored eyes sparkling with excitement.
“In this course, you will work together to create something greater than the sum of its parts. The strength of this class is in collaboration. Each of you brings the strength of your element and your unique way of wielding it. Here, we will focus on teaching you to combine and braid your elements together to create something new.”
Snickers rippled around Alaire as Professor Hale quietly addressed a student in the front row.
“What’s she going to do—awkwardly stare at us?” someone muttered under their breath, eliciting laughter from those nearby. The tension in Alaire’s shoulders tightened, but she held her head high, refusing to give them the satisfaction.
Moments later, Professor Hale’s furious gaze swung to the source of the taunt. “There will be no mocking of your peers in this class—or any other I teach. Every student has something valuable to contribute, and I expect nothing less than respect for one another. Is that understood?”
The room fell silent.
“ Well ?”
The chastised student sank into their seat, red-faced and withdrawn.
Good . Alaire didn’t bother hiding her smile. Satisfaction curled in her chest.
Professor Hale began dividing the class into teams, assigning one member from each house to every group. Alaire, without magic of her own, was added as a seventh member. None looked particularly thrilled at her inclusion.
The task: create a barrier forged from all six elements.
“The elements must work in harmony—supporting each other, enhancing their strengths, and compensating for their weaknesses,” Professor Hale instructed as she moved from group to group.
A tall girl with cornflower-blue eyes in Alaire’s group stepped forward. “I’ll start with forming the base. Water will give the barrier fluidity and movement,” she said, her tone dripping with superiority. She summoned a graceful stream of water that wove itself in little spirals.
The rest of the group nodded, forming a circle around the element, barely sparing Alaire a glance. An earth wielder from House Arborstone summoned thick vines to wrap around the swirling water—precise and mechanical. He flicked his gaze to her, his eyes soft, but said nothing.
Lightning crackled around another student’s fingers. The energy surged wildly, nearly singeing the vines before he reined in his power. Alaire leaned forward.
“Don’t get in our way,” he snapped. “We don’t have time to babysit.”
Alaire’s temper simmered, ready to spill over, but she bit her tongue. Being kicked out of her classes wasn’t going to help her. She had observed and paid attention in every lesson, learning all she could about aether.
But she was at a fundamental disadvantage.
Without magic, she was deadweight.
Fighting her instincts, she swallowed her anger. Because, as much as she hated to admit it, they weren’t wrong. No matter how long she spent learning how elements were wielded, or reviewing everything the professors taught, it was pointless without magic. She’d have better luck growing a third arm.