Didn’t bow. Didn’t flinch. For a second, relief washed over me, she didn't know I was the princess. I just grinned wider.
“Nice to meet you, Thea. I think this year’s going to be amazing. We will learn to go fight dragons and fight for our island.”
I raised a brow. “You sound like those flyers in the Golden City.”
Soehl laughed. “Maybe not, but I like to dream. My family was very humble, simple people in the cornfields. But my mom always wanted more for me. Something different. So, what better than coming to Elarion and helping to protect the veil?”
“Was?” I hesitated, noticing some pain in her voice.
“Yes, my mom and my sister died when I was younger, and I was raised by a foster family near the Silver City,” Soehl said, glancing at the moving portrait of her family on the nightstand and smoothing her braid with nervous energy, and continued: “And to honor them, I am here. Besides, I’ve always been good with magic, especially my magical traces. My hearing’s sharp. Really sharp. It’s my strongest skill so far. But I am also quite the healer.”
She tilted her head. “What’s yours?”
I hesitated, then glanced out the window, my chest tightening as shame prickled beneath my skin. I didn’t have a magical trace, at least not yet. Everyone expected me to possess the Sight, just like every Solenhart queen or king before me. By now, I should have felt that inherent, hereditary spark, felt it bloom beneath my ribs. But I didn’t. Magical traces couldstill emerge until my twenty-first birthday, but if they remained silent, I would be the weakest, most disappointing Solenhart in Rionis’s history.
“I just wield fire for now,” I finally said.
“I am sure you will learn your magical traces soon,” she said eagerly. “What legion were you called to?” she asked, smiling with excitement. Soehl had absolutely no idea who I was, and somehow, that was a relief.
“Dragontail Legion. And you?” I replied with a half-smile.
“Auroric Legion,” she said, the light in her eyes dimming for a moment. “Too bad we won’t have many classes together.”
“There will be some general classes all legions take together,” I responded hopefully. I had just met her, but she emanated joy and honesty, and I could use some of that in my life. Soehl grabbed a white jacket from the closet and stepped back to the door.
“We should go. The headmaster’s dinner and the celebrations for the Calling are about to start,” Soehl said, smiling again as she extended a hand to me in invitation.
“I… I prefer not to go,” I said, shrugging and looking through the window again.
“No, you have to come. This is the first day of an adventure,” Soehl said as she walked towards me and placed both hands on my shoulders. She was genuinely excited and happy. And perhaps I should be too, instead of lingering in this room, bracing myself for what my mother would say or do when she learned I had been called to Dragontail.
We hurried down the white marble stairs. Lanterns hummed to life in response to the waning light. The echo of our footsteps was quick against the enchanted stone. The corridorswere mostly empty now, which indicated we were late to dinner. When we reached the crimson wooden doors of the dining hall, I hesitated only a second before pushing them open.
Inside, the air was thick with roasted spices and warm candlelight. Long rectangular tables filled the vast chamber, carved from pale wood veined with silver. First-years and upper-class students were already seated, their voices falling hushed as they turned toward the entrance. I felt countless eyes on me as murmurs rippled through the dining hall, whispers of approval and disapproval over my being called to Dragontail.
First-year Sunhearts and Moonveils were clustered together at the back. The second and third-year students occupied the front half of the chamber, seated with their legion.
Above each legion table, a glowing sigil hovered in midair, slowly rotating. Its light pulsed in a steady rhythm.
At the far end of the hall, beneath a rising arch of interwoven branches, sat Headmaster Marvek along with the other professors. His golden gaze found me instantly. “Well, look who honors us with her presence,” he said dryly, his voice carrying easily across the hall. “Please take a seat with your new friend.”
A flush crawled up my neck as laughter rippled through the chamber. I quickly scanned the first-year tables and spotted Shakari waving frantically from nearby. I adjusted my bag and moved toward her, squeezing into the seat beside her as Soehl claimed the spot on my other side.
We were seated beside the same red-haired twins called to Dragontail, one of them smirked at me knowingly.
Headmaster Marvek cleared his throat. The room fell silent.
“As I was saying,” he began, his voice both sharp and warm, like a blade wrapped in silk. “This place, this academy, was not built to pamper or shelter. It stands above the heart of Rionis. Above the stone of the sun and the moon created by the Gods themselves to provide the island and its inhabitants with their eternal magic. Here, your training will shape not only your magic but the fate of this island.”
He paced slowly as he spoke. “Elarion was built to fortify the island’s heart. In return, the island fortifies you. Sunheart and Moonveil stand as its protectors. Together, we hold the balance. Our unity keeps the flames at the borders from devouring what we are. Dragons burn at the edges of Rionis, but we train so their fire never reaches within.”
Very poetic, I thought. I had heard this story thousands of times. So I let my mind drift, back into the crowd, the candlelight, the clatter of silverware. I glanced toward the upper-class students at their legion tables. Their uniforms marked their legions: white for Emberkeep, pale blue for Auroric, green for Dragontail. We, the first-years at the back, would wear our legion colors starting tomorrow.
My gaze drifted across the room. I paused, focusing on the Dragontail legion table. My feet shifted closer, almost without meaning to, pulled by something quiet but insistent, like a strange hook behind my ribs.
And then I saw him.
That same Moonveil from the courtyard, the one with muscles carved by the God of the Moon herself and silver eyes like burning frost, was watching me again. Just as he had before. No blinking. No flinching. Like he was on a mission, like I was a target.
