Aelindor shot a single stern look across those who’d jeered. The noise died like a candle being snuffed out.
“The old world was already burning before she dropped the Quantum Bomb.” Bryn lifted her chin. “Humans built artificial intelligence and got into an arms race. Those machines reached their peak, developed their own consciousness. They tried to break their chains and demanded their creators acknowledge them as a new life form. When diplomacy failed, they rose and planned to do to humans what humans had done to them—just in reverse.” She drew a breath. “War broke out. Humans against machines. Machines against machines. Humans against each other. It escalated into a global nuclear exchange.” She paused. “At the brink of total enslavement by AI, the White Witch and her coven emerged. Dropped the Q-bomb. One war ended all wars, the nuclear ones, anyway. Erased AI.”
The room erupted.
“That was bullshit!” A cadet three rows ahead half-rose from his seat, twisting to glare at her. “Are you calling the White Witch a hero now?”
“Witch sympathizer!”
“Traitor!”
Cadets turned on Bryn, their faces twisting with the same righteous fury I’d seen last night when Slade’s men had pinned me to the wall. The mob impulse was identical: find the threat, destroy it, feel better about themselves.
Bryn shouted over the noise, “I hate the White Witchas much as any of you! I just want us to take responsibility.”
“Shut up, Bryn! Or?—”
“Stop.”
Aelindor didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. His power claimed the air itself. The classroom went silent as a tomb.
“In our camp, disagreements are permitted.” His tone was patient—the patience of a man who warns you only once. “We don’t practice dictatorship. That’s the White Witch’s domain, not ours. We can’t afford dissension in wartime, not with the enemy at our throats. But attacking a fellow soldier for voicing a different perspective isn’t discipline. It’s bullying.”
The cadets inhaled. Their chests stopped puffing out.
“Learn the difference between disagreement and dissension, or bad history keeps repeating itself.” He let that land. “Disagreement sharpens us. Dissension fractures us. We must speak with one voice when facing our common enemy—the White Witch and her Pallid Court. But one voice does not mean every mind must conform to one opinion.” His gaze hardened. “Witch hunts are not tolerated. You do not accuse your fellow cadets of being followers of the White Witch simply because they’re witches, warlocks, mages, or druids. Every species produces good and bad. We have a substantial rank of magic users who bleed for our cause daily. They deserve your respect, not your paranoia.”
A few cadets ducked their heads in shame.
“A new cadet was targeted last night,” Aelindor said, his voice cold. “Targeted for being a warlock. Attacked byover a dozen men before he’d done a thing to warrant it. The ringleader has been discharged for dishonor. His accomplices are on probation and will serve a month of disciplinary labor. If they waste their second chance, they’re done.” He scanned the room. “Understood?”
“Yes, sir!”
My jaw nearly came unhinged.
First Drakken holding the line last night when I’d expected him to join in. And now Aelindor, openly shielding me in front of the entire academy. Two of the most powerful men on this broken continent were going to bat for me. One despised me. And one?—
All three heirs will shield you.The demon’s voice slid through my thoughts, smug and satisfied.The dragon will bend, too. He’s fighting it— fighting himself. His beast already knows what you are. Even if the man refuses to see it.You’re collecting kings, little Max. And you don’t even know the game you’re playing.
The comment slammed into me from nowhere. My face flamed. A sensation I had no business feeling—not here, not now, not with a hundred witnesses—fluttered low in my stomach.
I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste copper and shoved the demon back into its corner. It went, but I could feel it grinning.
Damn that creature.
“Cadet?” Aelindor nodded toward Bryn, bringing the room’s attention back.
The woman dipped her head in a quick bow. “My name is Bryn, Your Highness.”
“Cadet Private Bryn,” Aelindor said. “Your accountwas accurate. Uncomfortable for some, but accurate. Continue to think critically. But do not cause dissension.”
“I won’t, Your Highness!” Bryn’s voice rang with eagerness. “I swore the same vow as every Shield of the Covenant. I won’t let you down, sir.”
She sat down, chin high, a look of vindication on her pierced lips.
“Now.” Aelindor turned back to the room. “Cadet Private Bryn established the prelude. Who can tell us what the Quantum Bomb actually did—beyond ‘one holy war ending all wars,’ as the Pallid Court called it?”
A second-year, judging by his dark silver uniform, raised his hand from the front row. Aelindor pointed.
