Chapter 19
[Embercrown 27th (8/27), Year 1356 of the Arcane Calendar]
| 2:40 PM |
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[Celestara, boys' dormitory, Room- 305]
Did the academy start sending gifts to students? The thought flickered through my mind, ridiculous but tempting.
I pushed myself up from the chair and crossed to my roommate's desk opposite mine. I slid the drawer open. Empty.
"Yeah, stupid assumption," I muttered under my breath.
Then who put this here?
The package sat waiting, wrapped neatly in dark paper. My fingers hesitated before peeling it away. A black box. Nothing special—until I opened it.
My breath caught.
It was my face.
Not a picture, not a sketch—my face staring back at me from a mask of flawless shine. Smooth. Blank. No designs, no symbols, nothing but the uncanny reflection of me.
A card rested inside. I picked it up, setting the box carefully on the table.
The side with more writing first:
This is a mask. Being an artist, you must understand the figure in the shape of a human face. Please wear it when joining the gathering. Cornelius will explain.
The words made my chest tighten. Artist.
Goosebumps prickled down my arms. My heart slammed harder, faster, sweat beading along my temples. Kyzen wasn't an artist. No one here should know that I existed beneath this skin.
The mask seemed to gleam sharper, like it knew. Like it was waiting.
With trembling fingers, I flipped the card.
The letters bled into my eyes, burning hotter the longer I stared. The word wasn't just written—it throbbed, echoing through my chest in rhythm with my heartbeat.
Each pulse sent a shiver racing through me, until I swore the air itself whispered it back.
"Scoryn."
Goosebumps crawled down my arms. I felt watched—exposed. Whoever had written this wasn't just sending a message; they were already here, observing me.
He even knows about Cornelius, or—
"Cornelius, do you know this guy?" I asked.
A sharp reply: "No."
My eyes fell back to the mask. I lifted it from the table. It was surprisingly light. Turning it over in my hands, I realized what it was: a one-way mirror, fashioned into a mask.
The craftsmanship was flawless—the transparency so clean it felt like glass. If I put it on, I knew the weight might remind me it was there, but my vision would remain nearly unchanged.
And yet, I hesitated. I didn't want to wear it, not knowing what would get triggered.
Knock. Knock.
The sound sliced through the silence, sharp and deliberate. I froze, staring at the door. Another knock followed—heavier, impatient, like someone testing the wood.
Then more. A group of fists pounding in unison, rattling the frame, shaking dust from the walls. The rhythm turned erratic, frantic—too many hands, too many bodies pressing at the threshold.
The knocks became louder-
Bang. Bang.
Bang.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
"Calm yourself, it's fine," Cornelius murmured. His voice was steady, but my strained mind was obvious.
The pounding grew into a violent thunder, a storm of fists demanding entry. My breath caught. My pulse hammered against my ribs.
And then—cutting through the chaos—a familiar voice screamed from the other side, warped but unmistakable:
"Kyzen! Let's go for lunch!"
I walked up to the door, opening it slowly, still feeling tense. I felt slightly calmer after I looked at their faces.
Finally, he said after a pause, he continued whats up with you? Why are you sweating so much?
I glanced down at my shirt. The white fabric clung to me, soaked through.
"Guess unpacking wore me out," I muttered. "I'll grab a quick bath and then head to the dining hall. You guys go ahead."
I shut the door without waiting for his reply and staggered back to the bed. Dropping onto the mattress, I pulled in long, shaky breaths, trying to calm the hammering in my chest.
The panic eased slowly, but it never vanished.
Cornelius seemed to sense it. He didn't press, didn't add to the confusion, clawing at my head. His silence felt deliberate, giving me room to sort through the mask, the note, and everything they implied.
When I finally steadied myself, Cornelius spoke again."We don't know if he's an enemy yet, so don't assume. Assumptions can be dangerous."
I hated how right he was.
Here's what I knew: Scoryn understood I wasn't Kyzen. That much was obvious. What I didn't know was whether he also knew my real name—Oliver.
If he were truly an enemy, he wouldn't have revealed himself.
He could've stayed hidden, waited for the right moment, and just gotten done with what he wanted without revealing himself. Instead, he left a mask. A note. That meant something else.
But what unsettled me even more than Scoryn himself was that single word—gathering. That meant more than one person was involved.
Someone was monitoring me. Inside the academy.
Watching me already. Probably the same one who delivered the box.
The message he gave was quite clear: eyes were everywhere. One wrong move, and they'd know.
He wanted me to feel it. To know I was being watched.
But why?
I scratched the back of my head, restless.
My stomach growled, low and sharp. I pressed a hand against it and muttered, "For now… I need to eat."
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The dining hall was alive with noise and motion, a tide of voices crashing against vaulted ceilings. Laughter and chatter spilled from every table, clashing with the scrape of cutlery and the thud of trays being set down.
The air carried a heavy warmth, thick with the scent of roasted meat, fresh bread, and spiced vegetables.
I slipped into the line, tray in hand, letting it slide along the polished counter as I moved past steaming dishes. Platters of golden bread rolls, glistening cuts of roast, bowls of creamy soup, and stacks of fruit that looked almost too perfect to be real.
My stomach clenched at the smell, and I grabbed a little of everything, the weight of the tray pressing against my palms.
Students jostled around me, some in a hurry, others lingering as they laughed with friends they hadn't seen all break.
A group of fresh, younger first-years huddled together like they were still trying to figure out where they belonged, while upperclassmen dominated their tables, voices loud and confident. It was chaos, but it was a familiar chaos—the kind that made the academy feel alive.
Balancing my tray, I scanned the hall, searching for a familiar face among the rows of long wooden tables.
Near the windows, I spotted Liam with a few familiar faces: Reis, Dain, and Victor. Liam caught my eye and waved me over.
"Took you long enough. And what was with the door slam earlier?" he asked as I set my tray down.
I smirked. "What am I, your girlfriend now?"
"Please," Dain cut in, throwing an arm around Liam's shoulder with mock solemnity. "Kyzen, Liam already has his heart set on someone. He can't accept your love." He gave Liam a dramatic pat on the back, earning a round of laughs.
I rolled my eyes, chuckling as I dug into my food. Liam ignored the theatrics, stabbing into his plate like Dain wasn't even there.
The conversation drifted to the usual break stories. Victor bragged about brutal training sessions with his older brother, while Reis groaned about being dragged to one noble gathering after another.
As I ate, my eyes swept the hall. The undercurrent was impossible to miss. Nobles and commoners did share tables here and there, laughing like equals—but they were the minority.
The divide was still there, subtle but sharp, hidden in jokes that cut too deep and glances that lingered a beat too long.
Not that it touched anyone in our group.
Though Dain might've carried that attitude once, back before he fell in with us, those days were behind him.
Midway through our conversation, a sharp, familiar voice cut through the air like a blade.
"How cold. Won't you greet your lovely fiancée?"
I froze. My blood turned to lead. I didn't need to look to know who it was—the voice alone was enough, sweet and venomous, a melody I'd come to dread. Still, I forced my head to turn, my neck stiff as rusted iron.
Selene.
Her face was flawless, pale and smooth like porcelain, but her smile… her smile was the weapon. Honeyed at first glance, but every curve was sharpened to cut. Her long brown hair framed that perfect face, catching the glow of the dining hall lamps in soft ripples, deceptively warm compared to the ice behind her eyes.
I managed a brittle smile of my own. "Sorry, my lady. I was going to meet you afterward," I said, voice smooth as glass, hiding the storm underneath.
Beside me, Liam clicked his tongue in open disgust. His irritation bled through despite the silence he kept. Selene's eyes flicked toward him for the briefest heartbeat—predator meeting prey—before sliding back to me.
Her lips curled higher, mockery hidden in sweetness. "How thoughtful," she cooed. "We'll talk later. I wouldn't want to intrude."
With that, she turned, her movements liquid grace, gliding away. Her brown hair swung behind her like a silken curtain, catching the dim light of the dining hall and shimmering with every step. Even after she vanished into the crowd, the air felt heavier, as though she'd left a curse clinging to the room.
Silence hung over our table, the bruise of her presence lingering. Then Dain let out a low whistle, the sound scraping against my nerves."Man, you're lucky," he said, shaking his head, blind to the rot beneath the surface. "A fiancée who actually seeks you out? Most nobles barely tolerate each other before marriage."
I forced a chuckle. Hollow, brittle. A lie I didn't have the energy to sell.
Beside me, Liam went rigid. His knuckles whitened around his fork, his other hand pressed to his temple as though holding back a tide of fury. He didn't look up, but his words cut through the clamor of the hall like steel.
"Yeah. Lucky."
The fork slammed into his meat with enough force to rattle the plate. He ate in silence, anger coiling around us like thunder before a storm.
Reis and Victor didn't notice the shift, their laughter carrying on as if nothing had changed. They thought Liam was just jealous. They didn't know. They couldn't.
But Liam did. He knew the truth of my situation with Selene—knew some chains bound me to her, but never knew what those chains were.
Kyzen told him it's his choice and never to let anyone know about the relationship. Chloe also knows this.
Both have respected my decision on the guarantee. I will tell them by my 18th birthday the reason. Otherwise, Chloe said she would tell Aldric, which would be very problematic.
I let out a quiet breath, a surrender in the shape of air.
My fork pushed food across the plate without aim, my thoughts circling in endless knots.
The year had only just started, yet it already felt heavy, pressing on my chest like a stone I couldn't get rid of.
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The rest of the day passed in a blur of pretending things were normal—joking around with my friends, their laughter a thin shield against the dark thoughts waiting at the edges of my mind. In the end, we headed to the training block, all of us eager to shake off a month's worth of rust.
It was only 5:30 p.m., the sky outside bruised with streaks of violet, but the day wasn't over. My chest still carried the weight of Selene's sudden appearance, heavy and suffocating. She had made her move, and now it was my turn. Not that I had any power to act yet—but I needed to prepare myself.
After dinner, we walked together. The corridors buzzed with chatter, students drifting between dorms, the library, and the training halls. Our path led toward the gym, our footsteps mixing with the distant echo of laughter.
"Feels weird to be back, doesn't it?" Dain said, hands shoved into his pockets. "Same halls, same faces. Like the break never happened."
"Except now you're weaker from all the lounging you did," Reis shot back.
Dain scoffed. "Please. I've been keeping up. You'll see when we swim tomorrow."
"Swimming?" Victor raised an eyebrow. "Not a bad idea. Been a while since we hit the pool."
Reis smirked. "Assuming Kyzen remembers how not to sink."
I shot him a sideways glance. "Funny, considering I nearly drowned you last summer."
That drew laughter from the group. Even Liam's lips twitched at the corner, though he kept to his usual silence, steady as ever at my side.
The chatter carried on—training plans, jokes, complaints about noble gatherings over the break. It was the kind of noise that made the academy feel normal. Alive. For a moment, I wanted to sink into it, to let it drown out everything else.
But Selene's shadow clung to me, gnawing at the edges of every laugh.
When the gym came into view, its tall windows glowing faintly against the darkening sky, I slowed my steps. The air had cooled, carrying the smell of damp stone.
"I'll catch up with you guys later," I said, keeping my tone light.
Reis raised a brow. "Already? Don't tell me you've got some secret date lined up."
"Nothing like that," I replied with a thin smile. "Just something I need to handle."
Victor shrugged. "Your loss. We're starting without you."
Dain shook his head in mock disappointment. "Skipping the first day back—shameful."
Their laughter rolled on as they headed inside, swallowed by the noise of the gym. Only Liam lingered, eyes on me. The question in them was clear, but I gave nothing. He didn't press. He never did.
I broke away, their voices fading until only my footsteps remained. The violet sky deepened, shadows stretching long across the stones as I turned toward the gardens.
And there she was. Selene.
Her silhouette stood against the fading light, as if she'd been waiting forever. Brown hair stirred in the evening breeze, catching streaks of violet from the dying sky. Her skin glowed faintly in the dusk, but her eyes—those pale, unfeeling eyes—froze me in place.
She tapped a finger against her lips, smiling like a predator savoring the sight of prey.
"You took your time," she said. Her voice dripped sugar, but every word carried poison. The smile spread across her face like a crack in porcelain.
The only reason I even put up with this bitch was because I had no choice, like kyzen.
Her smile didn't falter as I approached, but her eyes narrowed, pale and sharp.
"You didn't share our little secret with anyone during the break, did you?" Her tone was soft, almost playful, but the threat beneath it was unmistakable.
Before I could answer, she closed the distance. Too close. The faint scent of roses clung to her, disguising the rot underneath. Her hand rose, a single finger tilting my chin upward. Her touch was ice.
"You know what would happen if your parents ever found out." Her voice dropped to a whisper, silk-wrapped steel. Her gaze locked with mine, unblinking. "You would die."