The bullies scattered.
At the first glimpse of Riel's dark silhouette emerging from behind the near-collapsed wall, their laughter and jeers cut off like a snapped thread. The boy with fire still dancing at his fingertips instinctively stepped back. His expression faltered, paling, but he still forced his voice into a brittle shout.
"Who are you?!"
Even Selanne's proud posture faltered. Her chin tilted upward in stubborn defiance, but the cruel amusement that had been twisting her lips melted into a flicker of something else—fear. For a moment, all three of them froze, caught like animals under a predator's shadow, while Riel continued his slow advance.
Each step he took seemed deliberate, the faint crunch of grit beneath his boots echoing unnaturally loud in the ruined space.
Selanne's throat bobbed in a swallow. She darted a look at the boy beside her, as though measuring the odds. Then—finally—her instincts overrode her pride.
"You lowly—" She cut herself short, inhaled sharply, and hissed to the others, "We'd better start scramming, or else even if we've got plenty of lives, it won't be enough!"
Her words sent the boy into a confused frown, but he followed anyway. The last crony stumbled after them, glancing over her shoulder as they fled—dragging each other out of the half-ruined hall like they were being chased by ghosts.
And just like that, the place was silent again.
Only three figures remained.
Riley still stood rooted to the spot, her body half-crouched in the defensive stance that had flung a fully grown thriver to the ground moments earlier. Her breath came fast, shallow—loud enough in her own ears to drown out everything else. She didn't move, not even when Riel stepped closer.
His gaze was fixed entirely on her.
"Are you okay? Hurt anywhere?"
The words were calm—soft—but they pulled her attention like a thread tightening around her.
She blinked, startled. "What? Oh—no. I mean, yes. I'm fine. But she—" Riley turned sharply to Raya, whose body still trembling against the cracked wall. "She's the one who's hurt."
Only then did Riel's eyes shift.
He took in the sight without much visible change in expression, but Riley caught it—the faint flicker of recognition, like he was only just remembering that someone else was here. He stepped toward the girl, both hands raised slightly, palms open in a gesture that was almost gentle.
Raya recoiled as though he'd struck her.
Her shivering worsened. Wide eyes darted from him to the shadows spilling long behind his feet. It wasn't mere fear. It was terror—sharp and unreasoning.
Riel stopped. A quiet exhale left him, more resignation than annoyance. Then, with a faint flick of his fingers, the darkness at his feet stirred. The shadows rippled, then rose—stretching and twisting until they formed a vaguely humanoid figure. Smooth, elegant, faceless. Smoke in the shape of a man.
Raya's scream was thin and short-lived. She fainted mid-breath.
The shadow caught her before she hit the ground, cradling her with uncanny precision.
Riel turned without another word, the shadow following obediently.
Riley matched his pace without thinking. Somehow, the strange silhouette of shadow didn't frighten her the way it seemed to terrify the other girl. In fact, she found herself watching it curiously, wondering what, exactly, made it so horrifying to others.
Still, the shadow wasn't what had her mind spinning.
That move earlier—how had she done it? How had her body moved like that, with such precision, before she had even consciously decided to act?
Neither of them spoke on the walk to the infirmary. The old training hall fell away behind them, swallowed by midday silence. The path curved beneath the light, the air still carrying the dust of the abandoned wing, but both of them were lost in thoughts they didn't share.
Riel's eyes kept drifting to her hand—the same hand that had gripped, pivoted, and twisted in a move he had once drilled into Riley long ago. Not just similar. Identical. Down to the angle of her elbow, the timing of her step, the shift of her weight.
But this Riley had never trained. Not in this life. Or so he had thought.
Then why... does your body remember mine?
They delivered the unconscious girl without a word. The infirmary staff swept in immediately, fussing over her burns and the shallow rise of her breathing. Riel didn't linger.
He walked her back toward the entrance of the Comun Wing, toward the archway that marked the path to her dormitories. Only when they reached it did he stop.
"Are you really alright?" he asked again, voice low—almost careful.
Riley nodded, quick and decisive. "Yes. Really."
He studied her for a heartbeat longer, as though weighing something unspoken. But then he only gave the faintest nod, turned, and left.
---
The next morning, Ace was relentless.
"What happened? Why were you near the abandoned training hall? Why is there a rumor you fought a senior thriver boy? Riley, seriously!"
"I didn't fight him!" Riley hissed, shoving a mouthful of toast between her teeth to avoid answering. "I just... moved. And he... fell."
Ace stared at her like she'd sprouted antlers. "You moved, and he just fell? What does that even mean?"
She swallowed and shrugged helplessly. "I don't know either."
He narrowed his eyes. "You're not off the hook." But he let it drop—for now.
---
That afternoon, between classes, Riley slipped into the infirmary.
Raya was awake now, lying stiff on the cot with clean bandages wrapped snugly around her arms. Riley set a small basket on the table—sweet bread, a piece of fruit from the dining hall—and pulled a chair closer.
"You need to tell someone what happened," she said softly. "It won't stop unless you report it. I'll go with you."
Rayal shook her head. Her voice was quiet but firm. "I can't. You don't understand. Selanne has connections. If she finds out I said anything... they'll come after you too."
"They already tried."
"And they'll do worse next time." Raya's eyes—tired, but sharp—met hers. "Please... just let it go. I'll be more careful."
Riley left with a tightness in her chest that seemed to grow heavier the farther she walked.
---
Days passed. Nothing changed. The only thing different was Raya—she took time off. Indefinitely.
No summons from teachers. No retaliation from Selanne or her friends. In fact, they seemed to pretend Riley didn't exist. But the whispers that followed her in the halls had changed—quieter now, more subdued. Watchful, rather than mocking.
She couldn't decide which was worse.
Riel, however, had made a change of his own. Once-a-week training had become twice. He insisted they meet outside of class to prepare for the second mock exam, emphasizing that the terrain this time would be randomized. He lingered longer after each session, his silence feeling heavier but also... more present.
That day, as they reviewed their counter-tactics for forest terrain, his gaze sharpened suddenly.
"You're favoring your left arm," he said.
Riley blinked. "What?"
"Your elbow. It's bruised."
"Oh. That? It's fine."
He clearly didn't believe her. "Using that throw on someone twice your weight puts strain on the shoulder and elbow joint. Your grip was correct, but your pivot didn't match your stance. Your frame isn't built for it yet."
She stared. "...Okay, now you're just making things up."
He ignored her. From his coat pocket, he produced a slim glass bottle, the golden liquid inside catching the light.
"Apply this tonight. Twice. It'll be gone by morning."
She took it hesitantly. "What is it?"
"Shadowleaf balm. Mixed with zires bark. Heals deep bruising and tendon strain."
"This looks expensive."
"It is."
She raised a brow at him, but he didn't elaborate.
---
That night, back in her dorm, Riley rolled the small glass bottle between her fingers. The golden liquid inside shimmered faintly under the lamplight. She uncorked it, inhaling the earthy-sharp scent—calming in a strange way—and dabbed it gently over the bruise on her elbow.
The ache eased almost instantly.
The next morning, she nearly forgot to reapply it until she was halfway out the door. Cursing under her breath for running late, she dropped her bag on the table, uncorked the bottle again, and rubbed the balm quickly into her arm before her sleeve was buttoned. The faint warmth spread through the joint, loosening the stiffness.
She shoved the bottle back into her bag—right as Ace walked in.
"What's that?" His eyes flicked to the bottle before she could close the clasp.
"Nothing," she said too quickly.
Ace stepped closer, snatching it before she could stop him. One glance at the labelless glass and his eyes widened. "Where did you get this?!"
"Riel gave it to me."
Ace gaped like she'd just confessed to owning the Emperor's crown. "Do you have any idea what this is? This is royal military-grade Shadowleaf balm—mixed with zires bark, no less. You can't just buy this. You either have to be rich, favored, or Desillix bloodline to even know someone who can make it."
Riley frowned faintly, the weight of his words sinking in as she plucked the bottle back from his hand.
Riel was always quiet. Distant. But he had saved her. Trusted her in tactics. Defended her without a word. And now... this.
It didn't add up.
Or maybe it did—and she just didn't know how to read the pieces yet.
---
Elsewhere in the Academy, beneath an archway draped in ivy, a girl stood watching.
Silent. Motionless.
Her gaze tracked Riley's every move, cool and unreadable.
When Riel and Riley passed each other later that week in the courtyard—close, but never quite touching—that same girl turned and vanished into the shadows without a sound.
---
Meanwhile, the whispers persisted.
"She's just from a lower-ranking noble..."
"And a comun..."
"Doesn't matter. She's close to Sweinz and Desillix."
"That's why no one touches her."
But no one dared say it to her face.
Not yet.
But someone definitely might.