I don't move. I can't. "She's coming," Revna says softly, her phoenix eyes seeing more than just the present. "The Heart calls her here."
I move to the edge of the sanctuary, where crystal walls hold back the corruption. Out there, chaos reigns. But in here, I've built something even Alekir couldn't destroy. A foundation for her return. My shadows coil tighter, eager for what's to come.
"She will be mine," I whisper, the words carrying centuries of promise. The sanctuary hums in response, the wards thrumming with my determination. Somewhere out there, Kaia fights her own battles, unaware of what awaits her in Absentia. Unaware of me.
But she'll remember. I'll make sure of it.
The Heart pulses once more, and I know it's time. I've waited centuries for this moment—and gods, it hasn't dulled. Not one damn second. No more watching from afar. No more protective distance. She's coming to Absentia, and this time, I won't fail her.
This time, I'll keep my promise.
Chapter 3
Finn
"An army, huh?" I say, trying to keep my tone light as we hurry down the corridor toward Lira's office. "Does that mean Thorne gets a cool evil general outfit? Please tell me there are shoulder spikes involved."
No one laughs. Not even a smile. Tough crowd this morning.
After Seren's bombshell about Thorne building an army for Alekir, we'd scrambled to get ready. Kaia had yanked on fresh clothes behind a screen of shadows (Bob apparently taking his privacy-protection duties very seriously), while the rest of us tried to look less like we'd spent the night crammed into her room like overprotective bodyguards.
Now we're rushing through the Academy halls, every shadow in military formation behind us. Mouse rides on Kaia's shoulder like a tiny general, his tail occasionally flicking commands that the other shadows instantly obey. It would be impressive if it wasn't so terrifying to watch Carl suddenly snap to attention like he's been possessed.
"Are we really not going to talk about the fact that Mouse has apparently organized an entire shadow militia in the span of, what, twelve hours?" Iask, jogging to keep up with Torric's long strides. "Because I feel like that deserves some discussion."
"Not now, Finn," Aspen says tersely, his eyes scanning the hall ahead of us. His hand hasn't left the hilt of his dagger since we left Kaia's room.
"Fine, but I'm just saying—Bob is wearing what looks suspiciously like shadow epaulets. That's commitment to the aesthetic."
Malrik shoots me a look that could freeze fire. "The academy is in danger. Thorne is recruiting. Alekir is planning something, and you're focused on shadow fashion?"
"I'm focused on not losing my mind with worry," I snap back, the humor dropping from my voice before I can catch it. "Some of us cope with impending doom through commentary."
The tension in the room shifts, heavier now, like someone's cranked up the gravity. Malrik's expression softens slightly, his silver-gray eyes glinting with something like understanding. Kaia brushes her fingers against Mouse as if drawing strength from him, her face too pale in the early light.
The walk through the Academy is... exactly what I expected and still somehow worse. The whispers start the moment we step into the hallway, growing louder with every step. Students press against the walls, their eyes wide. I catch snippets of conversation, each one more dramatic than the last.
"That's her."
"The Valkyrie."
"Look! She has an army of shadows."
"Did you see what happened to the arena?"
I grin, throwing an arm around Malrik's shoulder as we pass a particularly slack-jawed group of first-years. Their expressions are priceless, a mix ofterror and awe that makes me want to start taking notes. Or maybe selling tickets.Step right up, folks! See the amazing shadow girl and her entourage of hot, broody men!
But then I catch the way some of them track her shadows' movements, like they're waiting for the darkness to turn on them. They don't understand that Kaia's shadows are more likely to offer you a PowerPoint presentation than actually hurt you. Unless you deserve it, of course.
"Fame suits you, Kaia," I say, watching as a cluster of Light Faction students literally stumble over themselves to get out of our way. Their pristine white uniforms are a stark contrast to the shadows that curl protectively around Kaia's feet.
"Finn," Kaia hisses, shoving me off. "Stop it."
"What? Just trying to lighten the mood. You've got to admit, they're impressed." I gesture to where Bob, ever the showman, is doing what I can only describe as a victory lap around our group. The newer shadows trail after him like eager pupils, and I swear I catch Patricia taking notes.
"They're scared," Malrik says flatly. His silver-gray eyes sweep over the corridor, catching the uneasy glances and hurried steps. A group of Elemental students whisper furiously behind their hands, their eyes locked on Kaia. "And they should be. Alekir's already got his claws in this place."
He's right, of course. Beneath the obvious fear and fascination, there's something darker in the way some students watch us. The way their hands hover near concealed weapons, the way their magical auras pulse with barely contained hostility. Thorne's influence runs deeper than we thought.
