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"If anything goes silent again, you tell me."

I fold my arms. "Is that an order, Officer?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

His jaw shifts. "A request."

Rarer than an apology. Possibly more meaningful. I nod. "Fine."

He doesn't look convinced. "Fine?"

"I'll tell you."

He holds my gaze. Apparently checking whether I mean it. Then accepts the answer. We leave the library together. The doors close behind us with a quiet thud. The Academy corridors are nearly empty. Moonlight spills through the tall windows, turning the stone floors silver. At the next intersection, our residences lie in opposite directions. Rhyven begins toward the eastern stairs. I turn west.

After several steps, I stop. "Rhyven."

He looks back. "Why did you believe me?"

His expression remains unreadable. "About what?"

"The Trial. The silence. All of it."

He considers the question. Then answers simply. "Because you noticed it."

I frown. "That isn't proof."

"No."

"And you usually require proof."

"I require people to know the difference between what they saw and what they assume." A pause. "You do." The words settle somewhere I do not expect. He turns away. "Get some sleep, Vaelith." Then he disappears down the stairs.

I remain in the corridor alone. Rhyven was the first person I told who did not reassure me. He did not say the Trial was old magic. Did not say the forest was designed to confuse us. Did not say ward stones flicker or ancient walls settle. He did not promise it was probably nothing. He simply believed that I had noticed something worth understanding.

For most of my life, certainty has been offered as comfort. My father's rules. My tutors' answers. My family's version of history. Rhyven offered none. Only belief without certainty. I am beginning to understand why that feels safer.

I continue toward my room. Beneath my feet, the Academy remains quiet.

Chapter Thirteen

Morning comes with rain. Not a storm. Just a fine mountain drizzle that settles over Varethia like mist, softening the towers until they seem carved from clouds instead of stone. The Academy does not acknowledge weather. Classes continue. Bells ring. Students hurry through the courtyards with books tucked beneath their jackets and breakfast clutched in one hand.

By now, I know enough of the routine to find my way without consulting my schedule every five minutes. That feels strangely satisfying. Until I unfold today's timetable: Wing Training. Sky Wing. Instructor: Chief Wings Officer Rhyven Corvell. Duration: Three hours. Three hours. I stare at the parchment.

Nyra leans over from beside me in the dining hall. "What?" I turn it toward her. She winces. "Three hours."

"I noticed."

Cassian glances over his cup. "Tide Wing has four."

"Congratulations."

"I wasn't bragging."

I grin. "It sounded suspiciously like bragging."