Rays of sunlight warmed Fin's face, waking him gently. He climbed out of bed and stretched, not realizing—or maybe forgetting—that he was completely naked. He felt amazing. Not a trace of exhaustion lingered in his body; it was almost magical.
Then a voice broke the peace.
"Could you please put on some clothes?"
Fin yelped and dove back into bed, yanking the sheets over himself. He turned toward the voice, mortified.
Standing by the door was Ephie, staring at him with a mix of mild disgust and barely contained laughter.
"Obviously I will! I don't usually go around exposing myself," Fin muttered, his face turning beet red.
"Well, I hope not. By the way, I'm Ephie," he said, finally bursting into laughter.
"I know. I haven't been here long, but you're kind of famous."
"Well, I didn't know that. Anyway—where are you from?"
"I'm from Greyroot, originally. You probably wouldn't find it on a map—it's that small. A few years after I was born, my father and I moved to Incepensia. It's a big town down south."
He paused. His tone shifted.
"Time passed... then the Godfall happened. For me, it feels like it was just last week. I've been in a coma until four days ago."
Fin sighed, the weight of it finally settling in his chest.
"Whoa. So, you don't know anything that's happened since then? That's crazy," Ephie said, his expression softening. "And I guess that explains why a guy who survived his Branding didn't show up at the Academy at fifteen."
"Yeah." Fin gave a faint smile, then changed the subject. "Anyway—what about you? What's your story?"
Ephie shrugged. "Mine's pretty straightforward. I live in the capital with my family. Got branded, started training, and when I was old enough, I came to the Academy. Nothing dramatic. Not like your story."
Fin chuckled. "I'll take boring over 'woke up after a magical apocalypse,' honestly."
"Fair enough," Ephie said with a grin. "Anyway, hurry up and get dressed or we're gonna miss breakfast."
Fin nodded and finally got out of bed—this time grabbing his uniform first.
As he pulled on his shirt and laced his boots, he glanced at Ephie again. "Thanks… for not being too weird about earlier."
"No problem," Ephie said, already heading for the door. "Just don't make it a habit."
They both laughed and went away.
For the next two months, life was good.
Days began to blur together—early mornings filled with drills, afternoons spent sweating through combat lessons, evenings shared over meals in the bustling cafeteria. There were sore muscles and scraped knuckles, but there was laughter too, and teasing between classmates, and quiet talks under the stars when no one could sleep. It was a routine, but for Fin, it was more than that—it was stability. It was belonging.
He'd never had that before.
Each day felt like a small victory. His body grew stronger, his movements sharper, and the fog that had once clouded his mind slowly lifted. The nights were filled with dreams that didn't always end in nightmares, and the mornings came with the comfort of familiar faces. Ephie, Deryn, even Cornelius—all of them had become threads in the fabric of his new life. And for the first time, Fin wasn't just surviving.
He was living.
But peace is a fragile thing.
The Trial was now only a week away. Whispers about it echoed through the halls, hushed speculation and nervous energy spreading like wildfire. And though Fin tried to stay grounded, the weight of it settled in his chest like a stone.
The anxiety was different now. It wasn't born from hopelessness—it came from the opposite. He no longer believed he had nothing to lose. He had friendships, progress, a chance at something more. And that made the idea of failure, of falling short, terrifying in a whole new way.
As a new day came Fin was now again in the classroom. The silence was once again broken by Cornelius imposing voice:
"As you all know your trial is in less than a week. I prepared you the best I could for it but many of you will die. There is no saying what you will find when you cross the rift but there is one certainty, it will be deadly. So, starting today there will be no more training, you should all get some rest, sleep well and go meet your family because it might as well be the last time you will see them." Cornelius said with a dark tone.
As he said those words everybody started looking at each other and then left the room. Only four people were left in the room. They were Fin, Deryn, Ephie and Cornelius.
"Why aren't you guys going too?" Cornelius questioned them.
Ephie was the first to answer, "My father told me that I should only come back after succeeding my trial." He said with a voice full of honour and duty.
"That makes two of us." Said Deryn
"I don't have a family to go to." Fin said with a sombre tone.
"That's very sad I apologize. But I still need you to leave the room, you see I told the director I would close it after I finished my speech." Cornelius said awkwardly.
Six days passed.
Nothing happened. No more training, no more lessons—just long stretches of quiet, restless hours. The Academy felt different now, like it was holding its breath. The looming Trial cast a long shadow over everything.
On the night of the sixth day, Fin and his friends found themselves lying in the grass outside, beneath a wide, star-filled sky. The air was cool, and the usual sounds of the Academy had faded into stillness.
They were silent for a while, listening to the wind rustle through the trees. Then Ephi broke the silence.
"After the Trial," he said, hands behind his head, "I want to get stronger. Strong enough to take on the next one without hesitation."
Deryn scoffed lightly but smiled. "Of course you do. Me? I think I just want a peaceful life. Somewhere quiet... away from all this."
Fin looked up at the stars, thinking. He wanted to give an answer too—but he couldn't.
"I don't know," he finally said. "For the longest time, I didn't think I'd even live long enough to have an 'after.'"
The others didn't respond right away. There was no need to. They just lay there, together in the stillness, each one lost in their own thoughts, uncertain of what tomorrow would bring.
But for now, they were here. And that was enough.