“We’re going to have so much fun,” Tran said, practically bouncing, like I was some new project he couldn’t wait to start. I finally placed which of the twins he was, probably because Rowan was glued to Shakari’s side as usual.
Chapter 13: Fenix
The week after the incident was even harder. The pain from the healing was gone, but the humiliation still burned like an ember under my skin. Between the late-night training with the twins and Shakari and the dual coursework, I was barely sleeping. My agenda was overflowing. Even if I had been heavily injured on the terrace, Dragontail didn’t believe in excuses. I was expected to attend every single class, no matter how exhausted I was.
Now, alongside everything else, new faction-specific magic classes are being held twice a week. This morning, we gathered in the open-air arena where the Callings had taken place. Heat shimmered off the stone; the scent of smoke and hot metal clung to the columns in warning.
The stands were split clean down the middle.
To the west, every first-year Sunheart wearing bright robes, restless energy, crackling anticipation. To the east, the Moonveils first-years in cool silence, shadows pooling at their feet.
I sat with Rowan, Tran, Soehl, and Shakari on the Sunheart side, our little group forming a small island offamiliarity amid the low murmurs of excitement and nerves. This was the only class where legions didn’t matter, Dragontail, Emberkeep, Auroric, none of it. Only faction. Only magic.
Sunhearts would learn to wield flame in all its forms, to bend heat and light and fire itself. The Moonveil would learn to command shadow, its movement, its silence, its power to conceal or strike.
Two halves of the island.
Jan Radke, my only Emberkeep acquaintance, spotted me instantly and came over with a confident grin. “Mind if I sit?” he asked, already settling beside us.
I gave a polite nod. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Soehl giving him an unmistakable once-over. He noticed, answering her glance with a faint, knowing smile. He was tall and broad-shouldered, the kind of strength carved by years in the western mines. Where boys hardened into men beneath the weight of rare metals and stone pulled from the island’s depths.
Then Thalen walked in with Marla Yung at his side. And behind them, Lorik Draventh and Rory Rey followed in their dark Moonveil uniforms. For once, the ruthless Moonveil counselors would be stationed on the opposite side of the arena. Lucky me.
But Fate balanced the scales in the cruelest way possible.
Because on my side—the Sunheart side—I now had my ex-boyfriend and the girl he’d cheated on me with. And Marla Yung still despised me with the same enthusiasm she used while warming Thalen’s bed.
Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
I knew exactly why Thalen had volunteered as a counselor for this class: to watch me, to hover, to pretend he was my loyalguardian in front of an audience. But showing up with the girl he’d betrayed me for?
Not exactly the most brilliant strategy if he planned to win me back.
The Sunheart class to master the flames began as soon as Thalen and Marla joined Professor Vao and Professor Chen at the front, their presence commanding the attention of every first-year Sunheart in the room.
“First-year Sunhearts,” Professor Vao’s clear voice carried across the arena, silencing the chatter. “This class will meet twice a week. You will learn to master the full range of your flame, from delicate carving to elemental creation. Your legion doesn’t matter here. Flame recognizes only the strength of its master.”
“By the end of this course, you will not only command fire, but you will also shape it,” Professor Chen said, her voice carrying through the hall. “You will learn to bend it into art, into weaponry, into life itself. Our focus will be creation, not destruction. Remember, creation demands precision, it’s far more difficult than tearing something apart. Some of our Dragontail peers may find that… frustrating.” His gaze flickered toward the back row before continuing. “Since this is a large class, Miss Yung and Mr. Barret will be assisting with instruction.”
Her words washed over me, but I felt distant and numb, as if I were watching everything through thick glass. My body was heavier than stone, weighed down not just by fatigue but by dread, worry about losing control, fear of everyone watching for me to fail. If there was one thing I already mastered, it was this.
My tutors at the Glass Castle had drilled this into me. I could etch my handwriting into marble, forge daggersfrom molten stone, even summon flaming horses to pull a carriage before they dissolved into sparks. I didn’t need another ornamental class; I needed control over my emotions, over the magic that kept trying to spill out of me.
My gaze drifted unwillingly to the east side of the arena, where Lorik and Rory were demonstrating shadow manipulation. Tendrils of darkness coiled around a boulder the size of a wagon wheel, lifting it with effortless control before setting it back into place. Then the shadows shifted, spreading outward into a dense, seamless shield, Moonveil’s greatest advantage, a defense capable of swallowing other magic whole, stronger even than wind barriers.
For a single, wicked heartbeat, I imagined igniting from across the arena, unleashing a burst of flame big enough to incinerate them both and be immediately stripped of my magic for murdering fellow Dragontails.
Honestly? At that moment, with anger and hurt churning in my chest, it almost felt worth it.
The arena was filled with noise and the thick scent of fire and smoke. Jan turned to me with a grin. “Looks like we’re partners, Solenhart.”
I blinked. “What exactly are we supposed to do?”
He chuckled, sparks dancing at his fingertips. “You weren’t listening, were you? We have to form a Fenix as detailed as possible. Wings, feathers, movement.”
“Easy, let’s do it,” I said, stepping down into the arena beside him.
“Easy for you,” he replied with a wry laugh. “I only know how to destroy things with fire.”
