Chapter 25: _Your Lives are About to Change

"This is ridiculous!" I argued. "If an upper-class student saw what was happening down here, why didn’t they help us? Why did they just run off to file a report while we were trapped?"

"Are you questioning an order from the Guard, initiate? Or would you prefer we restrict your mana flow with iron cuffs right now?"

Bren caught my sleeve, giving it a tug. "Elira, don’t," she muttered under her breath. "Just go. We can sort this out at Security."

I swallowed the fire rising in my throat, glaring at the helmeted guard before turning to walk out. Miriel shoved past both of us, muttering prayers under her breath and keeping as close to the Wardens as possible, as if Bren and I were the ones carrying a contagious plague.

The Dragon Academy Security Building was a brutalist structure carved directly from the bedrock of the inner ring.

The Wardens marched us through a labyrinth of low-ceilinged corridors before shoving us into a small, windowless holding room. The only furniture was a long stone bench built into the wall and an iron door that slammed shut behind us with a heavy thud.

I knew instantly that if we don’t give a believable and comprehensive explanation about what had happened, we might be suspects of an ambush in which we’d been nothing but victims.

I searched through my memory again, trying to force the missing pieces into place.

Nothing.

That should have terrified me more than it did.

I remembered Tobin’s voice. I remembered the vines. I remembered the fear.

But the moment between him leaning over me and him disappearing was nothing but a blank space.

Like someone had taken a knife and carefully carved that part of my memory away.

My stomach twisted.

I knew fear could make memories messy. I knew panic could blur details. But this wasn’t confusion.

This felt wrong.

I could remember the cold stone beneath my back. I could remember Bren’s scream. I could remember Tobin telling me he was going to take what was inside me.

But I couldn’t remember what saved me.

Or who.

The silence between us lasted for about thirty seconds.

"You ruined us," Miriel spat, whirling around to face me the second the lock turned. "I knew the moment I was assigned to the same dorm as a dragonless girl who dared to talk to Raice Ignis-Dominus that my academic standing would plummet, but this? A Security detention on my first week?!"

"Oh, I’m sorry," I said, leaning my back against the wall and folding my arms over my chest. "Did my near-assault interrupt your busy schedule of being utterly useless?"

"You led us into his trap. You probably summoned him down there to steal our magic because you’re jealous!" Miriel shrieked.

"Right, because I love getting strangled by thorn vines on a Tuesday afternoon," I scoffed, taking a step towards her. "If I wanted to drag you down, Miriel, I wouldn’t need a Sylven to do it. I’d just let you keep talking until the Wardens realize how utterly brainless you are."

"And don’t pretend you weren’t the one encouraging us to go," I snapped.

Miriel’s mouth opened then closed. Because she knew I was right.

She had rolled her eyes at Bren’s warnings. She had been the first person to say that a Sylven gathering students from the lower dormitories was probably harmless.

But now that things had gone wrong, suddenly she had always known better.

"Girls, please!" Bren yelled, stepping between us and pushing us apart with both hands. "Stop it! Both of you! We are locked in a Security holding cell! Whoever reported us is probably sitting outside right now deciding whether we get expelled or sent to the labor camps, and you two are bickering like feral alley cats!"

"She started it," Miriel huffed, crossing her arms and turning her back to us, pacing toward the far corner of the room.

"I don’t care who started it!" Bren hissed. "I care about surviving the night!" She turned to me. "Elira... who do you think reported it? Did you see anyone else down there?"

"No," I murmured, rubbing my temples. The dull ache behind my eyes hadn’t faded; if anything, it was pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat. "I didn’t see anyone. I told you, there was a flash of light, and then Tobin was gone. Maybe a warden was already patrolling and saw the lightning discharge."

Bren said quietly, "But the guard said an upper-class initiate reported it. That means someone was watching us."

"Whoever it was, they better hope I don’t find them," Bren growled, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the edge of the stone bench. "Because the moment I get out of here, I’m hunting down that bloody Sylven myself. I’ll rip those green vines off his throat with my bare hands."

"Oh, wonderful," Miriel chimed in from her corner, voice filled with sarcasm. "The dragonless rat and the hot-headed commoner are going to fight a high-tier Sylven. What a glorious execution that will be."

"Keep talking, Miriel," I said, turning my head to glare at her. "And I’ll make sure you’re standing in front of me when he shoots his next lightning bolt."

"You wouldn’t dare–"

"Try me."

"Both of you, shut up!" Bren hissed again, her head snapping toward the door. "Listen."

The iron door didn’t unlock, but footsteps began to echo down the hallway outside.

The ambient temperature in the small holding room dropped.

The light from the wall lamps flickered, dimming until long shadows stretched across the floor.

Miriel stopped pacing. Her breath hitched as a visible cloud of white vapor burst from her lips.

Bren froze beside me, her hand dropping from the bench as her eyes locked onto the floor in front of the door.

The footsteps stopped right outside.

The iron bolt slid back with an agonizing screech of metal against metal. The door creaked open, just a few inches at first, letting in a draft of air so cold it burned the back of my throat.

Then, a boot stepped into the doorway.

The three of us sat entirely paralyzed. Slowly, our eyes began to track upward to the face of the man standing in the doorway.

He was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his early thirties. He scanned the three of us with mild amusement.

The strange thing was that the moment I saw him, something in my instincts went quiet.

Not because I trusted him... I had learned better than that. But because something inside me whispered that this man mattered.

I hated that feeling.

My instincts had been wrong about plenty of people already.

Tobin had smiled before trying to destroy us.

Miriel had spoken like an ally before throwing me under the carriage.

So why should I trust the strange feeling telling me that this terrifyingly calm man was going to become important?

"I suggest saving whatever vigor you have left. The entire security wing can hear you arguing. It’s hardly the dignified defense I expected."

"Who are you?" I demanded, pushing myself off the stone wall. My knees were still shaky, but I refused to cower. "And why are we being kept in a holding cell after being attacked?"

The man folded his gloved hands behind his back, tilting his head slightly as if studying a curious specimen.

"I am Commander Clement. Head Warden of the Dragon Academy Security Division. And as for why you are here... well, Miss Elira, victims or not, your little encounter in the lower sectors didn’t go unnoticed."

Miriel immediately scrambled to her feet, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "Commander! Please, I had nothing to do with this! It was her—she dragged us down there–"

For one horrible second, I almost believed her.

Because a small, ugly voice inside my head had been whispering the same thing ever since Tobin vanished.

I should have known better.

I should have questioned why someone like Tobin was being so kind.

I should have listened to Bren.

I should have realized that the Academy wasn’t a village where a friendly face meant someone was safe.

The truth was, Miriel wasn’t entirely wrong.

I had made mistakes.

I had trusted too quickly.

I had dragged myself and my roommates into a situation I didn’t understand.

But that didn’t mean I was going to stand there and let someone like Miriel turn my guilt into a weapon.

I knew that game. I had played it my entire life.

Back in the village, if people decided something was my fault, they never stopped at blame. They wanted me to accept it. They wanted me to lower my head and apologize for existing.

I had spent years surviving by refusing to give them that satisfaction.

I wasn’t going to start now.

"Quiet, Initiate," Clement cut Miriel off with a flick of his index finger. The air around Miriel’s mouth froze into a momentary shimmer, silencing her instantly.

"Your lives in Last Bastion are about to change..." He looked between us three. "Drastically." he finished.