Chapter 7 CHAPTER SEVEN

AERIS

I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night.

Not one.

While Rhea collapsed into her bunks like her bones had melted from exhaustion, I sat on mine with a candle crystal burning low, flipping through the worn pages of the books I’d smuggled from home. Manuals on magical theory. Bestiaries of the creatures that lurked beyond Virelia’s borders. Old records about the Aetherian captains, the Academy halls, the Trials, the history no one bothered to teach unless you asked the right questions.

Anything to distract myself from the knot of dread and anticipation twisting in my stomach.

Today was the first official day.

Orientation.

Training.

Evaluation.

And I was going in already sleep-deprived.

Great.

I turned a page quietly, careful not to wake Rhea

Lucky her

“Are you awake, Aeris?” Rhea’s voice drifted down from the top bunk, groggy and soft.

“Yes,” I replied, even though what I meant was too awake for someone who hasn’t slept at all.

She groaned as she rolled over. “I realized I didn’t get to know you yesterday. I knocked out the moment we came in.”

“Understandable.” I closed my book, marking the page with a folded corner. “I’m Aeris Thalorian. The—”

“Wait.” Her head popped over the edge of her bunk, hair a tangled mess, eyes suddenly wide awake. “Thalorian? The Thalorian?”

Of course.

I should’ve known.

My family name traveled faster than I ever could.

The Thalorians…mages of the Eastern Territory. Known for excellence. For reputation. For legacy.

And unfortunately, for producing one prodigy daughter.

“Yes,” I muttered.

Her face lit up even more. “Then you’re… Kaelia’s twin sister?”

There it was.

The inevitable comparison.

The reminder.

Kaelia the Gifted.

Kaelia the Brilliant.

Kaelia the Speial

I swallowed, slow and steady. “Yes.”

Rhea’s expression didn’t shift into disappointment, or pity, or that subtle look I always recognized…the one that said Oh. You're the other one.

Instead, she practically beamed. “Gods, that’s amazing! I’m roommates with a Thalorian! Do you know how rare that is?”

I blinked. “You’re… glad?”

“Of course!” she said, dropping down from the bunk with a thud. She raked her fingers through her hair, grinning. “Your family is legendary. And honestly? You being here makes me feel like maybe I actually made it into the right academy.”

She laughed nervously, rubbing her arms. “You don’t understand…I almost fainted at the Veil yesterday. You were calm enough to pull me through.”

“I wasn’t calm,” I admitted quietly.

“Well, you looked it. Which is practically the same thing.”

I let out a small breath…half disbelief, half relief loosening the tension that had been gripping my lungs since yesterday.

“Anyway,” Rhea continued, already rummaging for her boots under the bunk. “I’m Rhea Valen, from the Valen Clan.” She puffed out her chest in mock pride, then deflated immediately. “I’m the only daughter of my parents and… well… I’m a Beastbinder.”

My brows lifted. That was rare.

Rhea grinned shyly. “I can summon, tame, or transform into magical creatures. I can speak to animals too—just the good ones, though. Not the ones with thirteen fangs and a taste for human ankles.” She wrinkled her nose. “But still. I know it’s not much compared to what some people here can do, but… I’m hoping I survive in here. I need to make it. I really, really do. As a—”

“You will,” I said before she spiraled any further. “You made it through the Veil. That’s already more than most.”

Her shoulders relaxed. Just a little.

“I’m a Flamecaller,” I added, tugging on my boots. “I can generate fire.”

I left out the rest.

The instability.

The unpredictability.

The part where my flames liked to flare out of my control, like they were alive and irritated with me.

Mother’s voice echoed in my head: Draw no attention to yourself”

Rhea’s eyes widened. “Oh,that’s—”

A loud metallic clang cut through the air, vibrating through the walls.

The morning bell.

Orientation time.

Rhea and I exchanged a glance then scrambled to wash our faces, braid our hair, and straighten our uniforms. The white fabric felt stiff and unfamiliar, the navy trim marking us as recruits.

I wasn’t sure if the title felt exciting or terrifying.

Probably both.

We hurried down the staircase, our boots echoing through the stone corridors of the dormitory wing. The Academy was already alive…number of recruits streaming through the halls, banners of each squad hanging from arched ceilings, guardian statues watching with hollow eyes.

Rhea nudged me as we stepped outside into the crisp morning air. “Storm Owls are… on the east wing, right?”

I nodded. “Past the crystal garden.”

“Gods, it’s huge,” she whispered as the path opened into a courtyard shining with floating lanterns and rune-lit fountains. “I swear this place is bigger than my whole village.”

“Probably is.”

We made our way toward the training grounds…an elevated circular arena built into the cliffs overlooking Virelia’s sprawling mountains. Ten of us stood there, the entire Storm Owls squad, gathered beneath the archway marked with the symbol of a watchful owl wrapped in swirling winds.

Captain Neris waited at the center.

He looked different in daylight..

We took our place in the semi-circle of recruits. Everyone stood stiffly, shifting from foot to foot, eyes glued to the captain.

For a heartbeat, he said nothing.

Then his gaze sliced through us ..calculating, assessing, almost… predatory.

Perfect..

“Welcome, Storm Owls. Orientation begins now.”

Captain Neris's gaze swept across the ten of us like he was weighing lives he already doubted.

“Storm Owls,” he said, voice cutting clean through the cold air. “Listen closely, because what I’m about to tell you will shape whether you last one season here… or don’t last at all.”

Rhea shifted beside me, her shoulder brushing mine. I kept my arms loose at my sides, pretending my heart wasn’t thundering.

Neris continued, “Out there—” he nodded toward the dense line of trees bordering the academy grounds, “Virelia is a cradle only to the naive. To the rest of us, it is teeth, and traps, and ancient things that don’t care about your name, your clan, or your dreams.”

A few people stiffened.

“Our division isn’t built on brute strength or flashy spellwork. Storm Owls survive on instincts. Awareness. Precision. You don’t have the luxury of panic. Or hesitation.” His boots scraped as he paced, hands clasped behind his back. “If you cannot listen to the environment, you will fail. If you cannot trust your senses, you will fall. If you cannot trust each other…” His smile was sharp. “Then you won’t be found at all.”

The wind picked up, carrying the smell of damp leaves and something colder.

“This academy will ask the world of you, and then demand more when you’re empty.” He stopped pacing. “So let’s begin with something simple. A test of knowing nothing at all.”

A few nervous glances were exchanged.

“Tonight,” Neris said, “you’ll take your first trial. A subtle one. And deadly if you turn careless.”

My stomach knotted.

“At dusk, you’ll each be blindfolded and taken into the Lunafern Woods,” he said. “No weapons. No lanterns. No spellcasting beyond what you can control without sight.”

I swallowed…hard.

“You will be scattered. Alone. Surrounded by things that move differently after dark.” Neris’s eyes flicked toward mine for a heartbeat, sharp enough to feel like he saw straight through the lie I carried. “Your task is simple: find your squad before dawn.”

Rhea whispered a soft curse under her breath.

“You’ll rely on instinct,” Neris continued. “You’ll listen. You’ll sense magic…your own, and the forest’s. If you make it back to this field alive before morning’s first horn, you remain with the Storm Owls.” He tilted his head. “If not… well. The woods always take their share.”

The group fell silent.

“Report back here at last light,” Neris ordered. “Eat. Rest. Pray if you believe in anything. When the moon rises, your real training begins”

He turned and walked away, cloak snapping behind him.

For a moment, no one breathed.

Then Rhea exhaled shakily. “Blindfolded? Alone? At night?” She nudged me with her elbow. “You’ll help me, right? Flamecallers should be good with… warmth. Or light. Or… anything?”

I forced a smile I didn’t feel. “I’ll try.”

Try.

Not promise.

Because if the fire slipped… if it flared uncontrolled like it always threatened to…

I might be more danger to her than the forest ever could be.

When the bell rang again, echoing over the training grounds, we all dispersed toward the dorms to prepare. A stormy glow settled across the horizon, shadows already gathering in the treeline like they were listening… waiting.

Tonight, we’d walk into their jaws.

And only dawn would decide who walked back out.