The academy was unusually quiet that evening.
The corridors outside Elena's dorm were stripped of their usual noise — no shouted laughter, no boots pounding along the stone, no arguments spilling from half-open doors. Even the lights seemed dimmer, casting long shadows across the floor as if the building itself were holding its breath.
Elena sat on the edge of her bunk, tightening the strap on her bracer for the third time without realising she was doing it. Her fingers moved on instinct, pulling, adjusting, checking, then starting again. Tomorrow would be her first beast hunt.
Level One, they said.
Controlled.
Safe.
She didn't believe a word of it.
Her bow case leaned against the wall opposite her, unopened since weapons class had ended. Just looking at it made her stomach twist — anticipation braided tightly with fear. She had faced other students. Faced pain. Faced loss. But tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow, whatever waited beyond the academy walls wouldn't hold back. Wouldn't care about ranks or rules or whether she was ready.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
Elena looked up, expecting Scarlett — maybe pacing, maybe pretending not to be nervous while clearly terrified underneath.
Instead, her breath caught in her throat.
"Mum?"
Her mother stood in the doorway, framed by the corridor light. She was already dressed for travel — dark cloak fastened at the shoulder, boots scuffed from use, hair tied back the way she wore it only when she was preparing for war. Her presence felt wrong here, like a blade drawn in a place meant for rest.
And yet, when their eyes met, the hardness in her expression softened.
"Hello, El."
Elena was on her feet in an instant, crossing the room in two strides. She wrapped her arms around her mother before the question could stop itself.
"What are you doing here?"
Her mother returned the embrace, holding her tightly — longer than usual, as if memorising the feel of her. Elena could smell the faint trace of steel and stale blood on her cloak, the scent of battlefields and command rooms.
"Saying goodbye," her mother said quietly.
Those two words landed heavier than any blow Elena had taken in the arena.
They pulled apart slowly and sat together on the bunk. For a moment neither spoke. The silence stretched, thick and fragile, filled with things neither quite wanted to say first.
Then her mother reached into her cloak and pulled out a folded data strip with a kraken on it — worn at the edges, creased and softened from being handled far too often. She turned it over once in her fingers before passing it to Elena.
"I've spoken to them," she said.
Elena's pulse quickened. "Spoken to who?"
"The remaining three from your father's squad."
The air seemed to thin in the room.
Elena's chest tightened painfully. "They're alive?"
"They are," her mother nodded. "Angry, cautious — but alive."
A breath Elena hadn't realised she was holding slipped free. Relief surged first, sharp and sudden, followed immediately by something more dangerous: hope.
"They're going back out," her mother continued. "Beyond the borders. Past where the war officially ended. They believe your father is still out there, El." She met Elena's gaze steadily. "I believe it too."
Elena's hands trembled slightly as she folded the data strip closed.
"What about the boys?" she asked quietly. "Jensen. Enzo."
"Safe," her mother said at once. "They'll be staying with Rachel."
Elena blinked. "Auntie Rachel?"
Her mother smiled faintly. "The very same. She threatened a Major with a chair the last time anyone implied she couldn't protect family."
That earned a small, shaky laugh from Elena — the sound catching halfway through before emotion could overwhelm it.
Her mother's gaze sharpened again, all warmth giving way to truth.
"I won't lie to you. Where I'm going is dangerous. If your father is alive, someone doesn't want him found."
Elena looked down at her hands, fingers curling into the fabric of her trousers.
"I wish I was coming with you."
Her mother reached out, lifting Elena's chin gently until she had no choice but to meet her eyes.
"No," she said firmly. "You stay here. You grow stronger. Because whatever took your father… may come for you next."
The words sent a chill down Elena's spine, not because they sounded dramatic — but because they felt true.
Her mother leaned back and reached once more into her cloak, this time producing a long, narrow case wrapped in dark leather.
Elena's eyes widened instantly.
"Mum… that's—"
"The one in the shop window," her mother finished calmly. "Scarlett told me you stop every time you pass it."
Elena flushed despite herself.
The case was placed carefully into her hands, its weight solid and reassuring. When she opened it, her breath hitched.
Inside lay the bow.
Sleek and elegant, its baby-blue arch curved smoothly, trimmed with a bright white blade along its outer edge. A Faint Name shimmered beneath the surface, humming softly with restrained power. It wasn't loud or aggressive — it didn't need to be. The weapon radiated confidence.
When Elena lifted it, the grip settled perfectly into her palm, as though it had been waiting for her.
A Level Three weapon.
Her throat tightened.
"This is too much," she whispered. "Mum, this—"
"Is yours," her mother said firmly. "Not because of who your father was. But because of who you are — and who you will become."
She leaned forward, resting her forehead against Elena's.
"Survive this place. Learn. Fight smart. Trust your instincts. And when I come back…" Her voice softened. "I expect to see the woman you're becoming."
Tears slipped free before Elena could stop them.
"You'll come back," she said fiercely. "You have to."
Her mother smiled — that same stubborn, unyielding smile Elena had inherited without ever realising it.
"I always do."
The door closed softly behind her.
Elena remained seated for a long moment, the bow resting across her knees, its power thrumming like a heartbeat against her skin.
Then, somewhere beyond the dorm walls, academy sirens began to sound.
First hunt briefing.
Elena stood, wiping her eyes, shoulders squaring.
Tomorrow, she would face beasts.
And she would survive.