At the top of the steps stood Headmistress Seraphine Valehart.
Her gaze found Aeris instantly.
Lucien leaned slightly toward her, his voice a low vibration.
"Stay steady," he murmured.
Aeris didn't respond; her world had already shifted.
Across the courtyard, Caelan Dreyce stood among the candidates. Dressed in ink-black, he was a pocket of perfect, unnerving calm. When his gaze locked onto hers, time simply stopped.
For one suspended moment, she saw it again: the glass shattering, the shadow detaching, and Caelan kneeling in the wreckage. Then, reality snapped back into place.
The roar of the crowd returned, the wind moved normally, and the sky held no cracks.
Headmistress Valehart raised her hand, and the courtyard fell into an immediate, heavy silence.
"Welcome," she said, her voice carrying effortlessly across the stone and the cool afternoon air, "to Crimson Academy."
Her eyes remained fixed on Aeris, never once wavering. "Today, you begin Sequence I."
As the words hung in the air, Aeris felt her shadow shift. It wasn't a violent movement, nor was it independent—it was simply anticipating.
For the first time since waking from death, a cold thought took root: perhaps the academy hadn't just been standing here. Perhaps it had been waiting for her, too.
The Academy didn't announce the beginning of the First Sequence; it simply swallowed them.
With a sound like a reopening wound, the courtyard's marble split down the center. Ancient, deliberate mechanisms groaned beneath the stone, vibrating through the soles of their boots.
In a rhythmic wave of silk sleeves and polished leather, the students stepped back in unison, retreating from the widening seam.
Aeris Vale did not move. Her pulse remained steady—for now.
High above the retreating crowd, the Academy crest shimmered: a silver scale pierced by a double-edged blade. Truth measured by blood.
Then, a voice echoed through the courtyard, smooth and measured, cutting through the mechanical roar.
"Sequence I," announced Headmaster Vaelor, unseen. "Resonance."
The marble gave way entirely. The students fell.
Darkness swallowed her whole, the roar of the wind deafening in her ears. Aeris didn't scream. Instead, she counted.
One heartbeat. Two. By the fifth beat, the freefall slowed. The suffocating black thinned into a cavernous hall, illuminated by pale blue lanterns that appeared to be suspended in a void. When her feet finally met the ground, the floor revealed itself as polished black glass. It reflected her with an impossible, haunting clarity—too perfectly.
She watched her reflection, noting the way her shadow lagged a fraction of a second behind her movements. Of course it does, she thought, a cold stone settling in her stomach.
Around her, the other students began to materialize. Liora stumbled forward, her breath coming in jagged gasps as her eyes swept the void. Rowan landed in a tight, predatory crouch, his mind clearly already calculating the exit. Finally, Lucien appeared with an almost irritating level of composure, casually brushing nonexistent dust from his sleeve as if he had simply stepped off a carriage.
Caelan stood ten paces away, his silhouette sharp against the blue-lit void. He didn't look surprised to see her—not in the slightest—and that irritation burned hotter in her chest than any lingering fear.
A bell chimed, the sound cold and crystalline. Above them, a ring of light unfolded, spinning into existence to mark the boundaries of an arena.
"Resonance measures alignment," the voice intoned, echoing through the cavern. "Mind, body, and shadow. You will face what recognizes you."
Aeris felt her heart rate shift. It wasn't the frantic beat of terror, but the sharp, jagged edge of anticipation. Beneath her, the black glass floor began to ripple like a dark pond disturbed by a stone. She looked down, expecting to see her reflection mimicking her stance, but the girl in the glass remained still.
The reflection smiled—a slow, predatory expression that Aeris hadn't given it. Then, with a sickeningly fluid motion, the twin stepped out of the floor and onto the solid glass, standing face-to-face with its original.
[End of the chapter8.]