Dawn found us kneeling in Headmaster Thalion's office, still wearing the blood and dirt of the Whispering Woods.
The journey back had been a blur—Mira silent, Vance grim, Dorn leaning on Elara, the woods parting before us as if eager to be rid of our presence. We'd emerged to find the trial over, the remaining candidates already processed, proctors waiting with expressions that promised questions we couldn't answer.
Thalion hadn't asked questions. He'd simply looked at us, nodded once, and said, "My office. Now."
Now we knelt on cold stone, the weight of his gaze pressing down like the mountain itself.
"Twenty-three assassins," Thalion said quietly. "A noble lord. A conspiracy reaching toward the Dark Forest." He paused. "And a party of five candidates who somehow survived, killed, and returned with evidence that will shake the Academy to its foundations."
No one spoke.
"You should be dead." His voice wasn't cruel—just factual. "By all rights, you should be dead. The woods should have swallowed you. The assassins should have finished what they started." He looked at me. "But the woods helped you. Didn't they?"
I met his eyes. "Yes."
"The Whispering Woods has not actively aided anyone in eight hundred years. Not since the Greenwardens walked its paths." He stood, moving to the window. "You are an anomaly, Roy White. A variable the System cannot account for. That makes you valuable—and dangerous."
"Are we being expelled?" Vance's voice was steady, but I heard the fear beneath it.
"Expelled?" Thalion almost smiled. "No. You're being recruited."
He turned, holding a scroll with the Academy's seal. "The Dark Forest's influence spreads faster than we anticipated. Someone is preparing for the seal's failure—stockpiling weapons, recruiting agents, eliminating obstacles. Lord Vane was one piece of a much larger game." He looked at Mira. "Your father's death will be reported as an accident. The assassins never existed. The conspiracy remains hidden."
Mira's jaw tightened. "You're covering it up."
"I'm giving it room to grow." Thalion's voice hardened. "If we move openly, the conspirators retreat into deeper shadows. If we pretend ignorance, they grow bolder—and make mistakes." He unrolled the scroll. "You five are no longer candidates. Effective immediately, you are special investigators of the Dragon Academy, with authority to act in matters pertaining to the Dark Forest threat."
Silence.
Vance broke it. "You're making us... spies?"
"Agents. Operatives. Whatever word comforts you." Thalion's gaze swept over us. "You've proven you can work together, survive impossible odds, and keep secrets. You've proven you can be trusted—by each other, if not yet by me." He paused. "And you, Roy White, have proven you can speak to things that have not spoken in centuries. That is a gift we cannot afford to waste."
I thought of the woods, the dungeon, the golem. Of Kaelan's journal and the Greenwarden's words. Of Light's warning and the watcher in the shadows.
"If we refuse?"
Thalion's expression didn't change. "Then you leave the Academy with your memories sealed and your lives watched for the rest of your days. The conspiracy knows you now. They'll come for you eventually. Alone, you'll die." He held my gaze. "Together, you might survive."
Mira spoke for the first time. "What about my family? My house?"
"Your house will be investigated quietly. If your mother and siblings are innocent, they'll be protected. If not..." He didn't finish.
She nodded slowly. "I understand."
Dorn shifted, his wound pulling a grimace. "So we're official now? Like, official official?"
"You carry the Academy's authority. Use it wisely." Thalion produced five silver badges, each etched with a dragon coiled around a tower. "These identify you to those who need to know. To everyone else, you're simply candidates who advanced to the final trials."
We took them. The metal was cool, heavy with implication.
"There's one more thing." Thalion's voice dropped. "The Five have requested meetings with you. Individually. They're... curious about your abilities, your origins, your intentions." He looked at me. "Especially you, Roy White. Light spoke highly of you. Eve Snowfall requested a formal audience. Even Alan Lionheart has asked to observe one of your training sessions."
My stomach clenched. The Five. The monsters. Wanting to meet me.
"When?"
"Soon. Rest first. Heal. Process what's happened." He gestured toward the door. "You're dismissed. Report to the medical wing, then to your quarters. We'll speak again in three days."
We stood, bowed, and filed out.
In the corridor, Vance let out a long breath. "Well. That was... something."
"We're spies now," Elara said wonderingly. "I'm a spy."
"Operatives," Dorn corrected. "Sounds better."
Mira said nothing, but her hand touched the badge at her belt, and something in her eyes shifted—from grief to purpose.
I looked at the badge in my palm, then at the faces around me. The misfits. My party.
"We're in this together," I said. "Whatever comes."
Vance grinned. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
---
Three days passed in a blur of healing, debriefing, and restless waiting.
Dorn's wound closed cleanly, thanks to Elara's now-steady hands. Mira spoke little but trained constantly, her blade a meditation. Vance wrote letters to his family—carefully worded, saying nothing of importance. Elara read, prayed, and grew quieter, stronger.
I spent my time in the Academy's library, cross-referencing Kaelan's journal with the Greenwarden's text. Patterns emerged—mentions of places, people, events that aligned with both. A hidden grove in the Whispering Woods. A ritual site in the northern mountains. A name that appeared in both, underlined, circled, marked with urgency.
The Heartwood.
Whatever it was, both Kaelan and the Greenwarden believed it was the key to something. Something that could counter the Dark Forest's corruption.
On the third evening, a servant found me in the library. "Candidate White. Lady Snowfall requests your presence. She awaits in the Observatory Tower."
I closed the journal, tucked it away, and followed.
---
Eve Snowfall stood at the tower's edge, silver hair stirring in the night breeze. Below, the Academy glittered like a jeweled map. Above, stars burned cold and distant.
She didn't turn as I approached. "You came."
"You asked."
A pause. Then: "I watched your trials. All of them." She turned, and her winter eyes held something I couldn't name. "You're not like the others. You don't fight to prove yourself. You fight to survive. To protect." She tilted her head. "Why?"
I considered lying. Then: "Because I know what's coming. The seal will break. The Necromancer will rise. The Demon Lord will follow. And when that happens, the world will need people who can survive long enough to help."
She studied me for a long moment. "You see the future."
"I see possibilities."
"Then you know I'll stand alone. That's my path. My fate."
I met her gaze. "Fate isn't fixed. I'm proof of that."
Something flickered in her eyes—surprise, maybe, or the first stirring of doubt. Then it was gone, replaced by ice.
"We'll see, Roy White. We'll see."
She walked past me, her presence a chill wind.
At the door, she paused. "The others will want to meet you. Alan will test you. Will will dismiss you. Max will analyze you. Light... Light already sees something in you." She glanced back. "Don't let them change who you are."
Then she was gone.
I stood alone in the tower, staring at the stars, feeling the weight of everything pressing down.
The gardener had grown.
The monsters had noticed.
And the real game was only beginning.
---