Am I allowed to stay without constantly questioning whether I belong?
To exist somewhere without bracing myself for rejection.
To feel at peace, even for a moment.
To stop believing that my worth must be proven again and again just to earn the right to remain.
Damian's words lingered, heavy and disorienting, leaving something unfamiliar twisting in my chest. Confusion. Longing. A fragile ache I didn't know what to do with. How could he say the very words I had been starving for so easily? Words I had long since convinced myself I would never hear not in this lifetime, not in any other.
"You don't have to think so hard," he said gently, placing a black stuffed bear into my lap. "Everything starts with baby steps."
"Baby… steps," I echoed in a whisper, the phrase tasting foreign on my tongue.
Could I even take those steps when I knew exactly where I stood? When I understood too well the path laid out before me, steeped in consequences and bloodstained choices.
If I moved forward, wouldn't Damian be the one crushed beneath it all?
He would suffer because of me. Because of my name. My past. My future.
And who knew one day, he might even—
"Lia."
Damian's voice cut through my spiralling thoughts. I blinked, realizing I had drifted far away.
"I've called your name a few times," he said softly.
"…Why?" I asked, my voice distant.
"I was asking if you wanted to have dinner together."
He was smiling.
And somehow, that smile hurt more than anything else.
Because I knew deep down I knew it would be the first thing to disappear once I made my move. Once the truth caught up. Once my world collided with his.
The realization crashed into me, merciless and suffocating.
"I'm sorry," I said, standing abruptly. "But I can't stay for dinner." I placed the stuffed bear back where it belonged, carefully and deliberately. "And… I can't accept this."
His brow furrowed. "Why are you suddenly speaking so formally to me?"
I straightened, every wall snapping back into place.
"Headmaster," I said evenly, forcing the words past the tightness in my chest, "I apologize, but I'll be taking my leave. I've overstayed my welcome."
"Lia—"
Before he could say anything more, I turned away.
The door closed behind me with a quiet finality.
And just like that, I ended it before hope could take root, before it could grow into something that would destroy us both.
The hallway felt colder the moment the door shut behind me.
Not physically—no.
This was the kind of cold that seeped into places warmth had never reached, settling deep in the bones. I walked without looking back, each step measured, controlled, as if hesitation might crack something open inside me that I wouldn't be able to seal again.
Don't turn around.
Don't hope.
My fingers curled at my sides, nails biting into my palms as I forced myself forward. I could almost feel his presence behind the door, confusion, concern, words left unsaid, but I refused to imagine him standing there. Refused to picture him reaching out.
If I did, I might stop.
And stopping was dangerous.
The academy corridors stretched endlessly, lantern light blurring as my vision wavered. Students passed by in small groups, laughter spilling freely from their lips. Easy. Careless. Alive. I kept my gaze forward, pretending their voices didn't scrape against something raw inside me.
Dinner together.
Such a simple invitation.
Yet a cruel reality.
I had wanted to say yes. I had wanted to stay to sit across from him, to pretend for one evening that I was just Cecilia and not a storm waiting to break. To believe, even briefly, that I could have something normal.
But normal had never survived me.
"Pathetic," I murmured under my breath, not sure whether I was scolding myself for leaving… or for almost staying.
The image of the black stuffed bear flashed through my mind again. The weight of it in my lap. The way his voice had softened when he spoke. Baby steps.
I laughed quietly, the sound hollow and sharp.
Baby steps were for people who had somewhere safe to land if they stumbled.
I didn't.
By the time I reached the dorm gates, the sky had begun to darken, dusk bleeding into night. I paused there, just for a moment, fingers brushing the cold iron. The urge to run to anywhere, nowhere pressed heavily against my chest.
Nox had promised he'd be waiting.
He always was.
And yet, for the first time, I couldn't bring myself to face him. I understood why he was pushing me, but sometimes things simply refuse to unfold the way we want them to.
Because no matter where I went…
no matter who waited for me.
The truth stayed the same.
I was walking a path that would leave nothing untouched.
And anyone who stood too close.
Anyone gentle enough to offer me a place to stay.
Would, sooner or later, be burned.
In a blink a week slipped by in a haze of deliberate nothingness.
I would have enjoyed it truly if not for the one change I despised yet was forced to endure, purely because of Vivian and Cassian.
Every single day, without fail, that vermin appeared.
Intruding.
Lingering.
Settling into my space as though he belonged there.
How a single tea-time encounter had twisted itself into a daily ritual was beyond my comprehension. A personal tragedy, really.
"Hey," I said flatly when I spotted him again, annoyance bleeding unfiltered into my voice. "What the hell are you doing here?"
He looked far too relaxed for someone standing directly on my last nerve. "Do you own this place?" he replied, smug enough to make my eye twitch.
"I do," I said coolly—then paused.
I had cast a barrier around this entire area.
My gaze sharpened. "How did you get through my barrier?"
He blinked once, then laughed. "Barrier? There's nothing like that here. And even if there was"—he shrugged—"it must've been a pathetic attempt."
Silence stretched thin.
"What," I asked slowly, "did you just say?"
"I. Said. It. Was. A. Pathetic. Attempt." He emphasized each word like he had a death wish.
"That's it."
Before I could act, Nox stepped in, already exhausted. "Calm down. Why are you two always at each other's throats? Can't you be civilized for once?"
"I can," I replied sweetly. "But I can't say the same for stray dogs."
He scoffed. "For once, we agree. Even stray dogs can be trained. But feral cats?" His gaze flicked pointedly toward me. "They never change."
"…Seriously?" Nox muttered, rubbing his temples.
Before the argument could spiral into something far uglier, a familiar voice cut cleanly through the tension.
"Master, we're back!"
Lux came flying toward me and crashed straight into my arms, clinging as if he'd been gone for years instead of hours. I caught him easily, steadying his small body on instinct.
"…Frore?" I whispered.
He landed moments later.
"Did you have fun too?" I asked softly.
"I did…" Frore murmured, his voice quiet, content.
"You have a frost dragon?" the vermin blurted out, cutting him off mid-thought.
I shot him a sharp look. "Do you have a problem with me having a frost dragon?"
"Certainly not," he said quickly, then hesitated. "It's just… It's my first time seeing one. I heard frost dragons live hidden from the rest of the world. Never thought I'd see one up close."
"Do you want to hold him?" Nox asked casually, far too casually.
His eyes widened instantly like a child being offered candy. He turned to me, barely containing himself. "Can I?"
I studied him for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"
"Child," Frore said coldly, fury simmering beneath his calm, "if you hand me over to that temple brat, I will kill him."
I froze.
His voice trembled with rage. "It was your kind who destroyed the place my master and I lived in. Your people who took my master away and reduced me to this state."
The air thickened, heavy and suffocating.
The vermin's expression shifted no longer playful, no longer smug.
"If you tell me who they were," he said quietly, something dark and sincere settling into his tone, "I will kill them for you."
For the first time since he'd started invading my peace, I didn't feel irritated.
I felt… wary.
Because that wasn't a joke.
And whatever this was becoming, it was no longer simple.
He's someone who is raised by the temple itself was claiming he would kill them.
The irony was almost poetic. Blasphemy spoken straight from his own mouth.
That vermin's declaration left me genuinely speechless for a moment.
…Damn.
Then I burst out laughing, sharp and unrestrained. "That was a good joke."
His expression didn't change.
"You think my killing someone from the temple is a joke?" he said. There was no humour in his eyes. None in his voice either.
That made my laughter die just as abruptly.
"As if you could kill someone from the temple," I replied coldly. "I know about that little trick those temple bastards use. Even if you tried, you couldn't kill them—let alone injure them."
His brow furrowed. "The hell are you talking about?"
Nox glanced between us. "You don't know what Lia's talking about?" he asked, surprised.
"No," he said bluntly, eyes never leaving me. "I don't. So tell me."
It wasn't a request. It was a demand.
I smiled, slow and sharp. "Like hell I would hand that information to you on a silver platter."
I leaned in slightly, my tone turning almost amused. "To think the one raised by the bishop would be so… lacking."
My gaze swept over him, cold and assessing.
"Tragic, really."
His jaw clenched not in anger alone, but in something closer to doubt.
The kind that seeps in when the foundations you were raised on begin to fracture, when certainty turns brittle and threatens to crumble.
"…What trick," he asked at last. Slower now. Careful. "What are you talking about, exactly?"
I considered his question thoughtfully, tilting my head as if weighing something precious. Giving him the answer so easily would be terribly dull. And where was the fun in that?
Instead, I smiled.
"Let's make a deal."
His brow furrowed. "A… deal?"
"That's right." I folded my arms leisurely. "I'll help you sever that little link after you discover what I'm talking about on your own. If you still can't figure it out after a week…" My smile sharpened. "Then you do whatever I say for a week while I enlighten you."
The look on his face, irritation edged with disbelief was exquisite. Pure, unfiltered annoyance. It filled me with an almost childish delight.
Oh, I'm going to enjoy this. A whole week with him at my mercy.
"It's a good offer," I continued smoothly. "Whether you accept or not will determine your fate."
He hesitated. Just a fraction. Enough to tell me he was already tempted.
So I sweetened it.
"I'll make it more interesting," I said lightly. "If you do manage to find it before the week is over, I'll listen to whatever you say."
That did it.
His eyes gleamed sharp, calculating, alight with the promise of my downfall. Poor thing. Too bad for him that I'd been playing this game far longer.
"You have a deal," he said, extending his hand.
"Deal," I replied, shaking it without hesitation.
Then, as if struck by an afterthought, I tossed something at him. A small wrapped chocolate.
"Oh—and here."
He caught it reflexively.
"I know," I added sweetly. "That's why you came here in the first place."
"…Thanks," he muttered, clearly confused, but he unwrapped it anyway.
I waited. Patient. Calm. Watched as he ate it.
Then I smiled.
"By the way," I said casually, "did no one ever warn you never to take candy from strangers or from people you don't trust?"
His eyes widened. "What—"
"You bitch—!" he snapped, staggering mid-step. "I won't let you off easily—"
He couldn't manage to finish his sentence. His body hit the ground with a dull thud.
"We'll see," I murmured, looking down at him. "I'll make sure you serve me like a servant."
Nox pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply.
"Cecilia Florence," he said, equal parts exasperated and resigned, "you're a demon. At least let the kid try before pulling something like this."
I smiled wider.
"What exactly did you feed him?" Nox asked, staring down at the unconscious body with thinly veiled concern.
"Nothing special," I replied lightly. "Just a pinch of merlic poison, a paralyzing draught, and a sleeping potion."
He turned sharply toward me. "Lia. Why did you add merlic poison? What if he dies?"
"I couldn't afford to take chances," I said calmly, nudging the fallen boy with the tip of my boot. "He's sly. I can never tell what he's thinking." My gaze flicked away, dismissive. "And Relax. If he doesn't wake up by tomorrow, I'll give him the antidote."
Nox exhaled, rubbing his temples. "You're impossible."
"Maybe," I said. Then smiled.
"Let's go," I said quietly. "Before either Cassian or Vivian shows up."
As if summoned by my own words, footsteps thundered down the corridor not even minutes later.
Cassian.
He rushed past everything, with that vermin into his arms with an urgency. He carried him straight to the infirmary, fear etched plainly across his face.
The healers were baffled as they examined him.
No visible wounds. No corrupted mana signatures they could immediately identify. No curse they could name. After hours of whispered consultations and failed diagnoses, they did the only thing they could—
They placed him under observation.
A few days, they said. Just to be safe.
Cassian came running back to tell us, breathless, panic clinging to him like a second skin. Vivian wasn't far behind, her expression pale, eyes wide with worry as she clutched his sleeve.
They were scared.
For him.
I watched them from a distance, unseen, unnoticed and something sharp twisted deep in my chest.
A pang.
Unwelcome. Unfamiliar.
Guilt.
The realization hit me harder than any accusation ever could.
I had never felt this before. Not once. Not after bloodshed. Not after screams. Not after the endings I had authored with my own hands.
So why now?
Why did seeing them, worried, seeing Cassian's clenched jaw, Vivian's trembling hands, make my stomach sink?
Why did it hurt?
My fingers curled slowly at my side.
"…I need to fix this," I murmured, the words tasting strange on my tongue.
"Yes," came the quiet reply beside me.
"You do."
And for the first time, I wasn't sure whether I meant fixing him or fixing what little humanity I had just realized I hadn't completely lost.
I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks, the breaths, the seconds I wasted pretending I didn't care.
I cared.
That truth gnawed at me worse than any wound.
"Tch," I clicked my tongue softly, rolling onto my side. "Annoying."
"This is new," Nox said from the shadows, arms crossed. His voice was calm.
"Don't make it sound like a miracle," I muttered.
"It is," he replied simply. "You don't usually question yourself after doing something cruel."
I said nothing.
Because he was right and I hated that he was.
Sometime past midnight, I rose quietly and slipped out of the dorm, pulling my cloak tight around me. The academy halls were eerily still, moonlight spilling through tall windows like silver wounds carved into stone.
The infirmary lights were still on.
Of course they were.
I stopped just short of the doorway, hidden in the corridor's bend, listening.
"…He still hasn't woken up," a healer whispered.
"We've stabilized him, but whatever was in his system is layered. It's… sophisticated."
Cassian exhaled shakily. "So he'll be okay. Right?"
There was a pause.
"We believe so."
Vivian let out a breath that sounded more like a sob than relief.
My chest tightened.
"You know what you have to do," he said.
"Yes," I answered quietly. "I do."
But fixing things had never been my strength.
I was good at breaking.
Good at ending.
Good at making sure nothing could ever hurt me again.
This?
This required restraint.
And that frightened me more than any enemy ever had.
As dawn crept closer, staining the sky with pale light, I made a decision.
Not out of kindness.
Not out of redemption.
But if I let this rot, if I let Cassian and Vivian suffer because of me.
I would never forgive myself.
And I was done pretending this didn't matter.
"Somnum."
The word barely left my lips before it rippled through the room like a hush laid over the world itself. In the span of a heartbeat, every healer, every attendant, every worried presence collapsed into sleep, heads drooping, bodies slumping where they stood.
"Let's get this over with before I change my mind," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.
Nox leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes sharp. "I'll keep watch."
"I'm going to regret this," I added flatly, uncorking the antidote vial. The liquid shimmered faintly as I tilted his head and poured it past his lips. "I know I am."
Before I could pull away, a hand shot out.
My wrist was caught firm, unyielding and in one swift motion I was yanked forward. I lost my balance and fell straight onto him, the mattress dipping beneath us. For a single suspended moment, we stared at each other, faces inches apart, breaths mingling.
Then I bonked him on the head.
Hard.
"Have you lost your mind?" I whisper-shouted, bracing a hand beside his shoulder.
He glared up at me, fury blazing despite his immobile body. "What do you think, you backstabbing witch?"
"Me?" I scoffed softly. "Backstabbing? Do enlighten me, when exactly did we have a relationship where betrayal would even apply?"
His jaw tightened. "We had a deal."
"We still do," I replied calmly, straightening as if I hadn't just been dragged onto him. I smiled faintly. "It's really your fault for falling for a textbook trick."
His glare sharpened, murderous. "You—just you wait."
"Say that when you've actually won," I said lightly. Then I leaned closer, voice dropping to a murmur. "And for the record, I only gave you the antidote for the poison and the sleeping potion."
I tilted my head. "You're still paralyzed."
The realization hit him like a second blow. His expression twisted, rage simmering so intensely I half-expected a vein to burst. I held his gaze for a second longer… then stepped back.
I wasn't that heartless.
"Well," I said cheerfully, turning away, "toodles."
Behind me, his fury burned hot and helpless.
And somehow I knew this wasn't over.
Not even close.
To be continued....