The woods behind Reichenbach were quieter than they should have been.
The sun had started to set, and the wind laced through the trees, a lingering chill settling between the two bodies that stood at the entrance.
Thorn was at the edge of the treeline, arms crossed, her gaze fixed somewhere deeper inside like she could already feel the way the forest would react to her before she even stepped into it.
It had been four years, but her body never forgot.
Each time she closed her eyes, she couldn't help but smell the damp soil and feel the cold ground under her body as her consciousness faded out.
"This is a terrible idea," she muttered.
Xavier stepped up beside her, hands tucked into his hoodie pocket. He didn't push her to move just yet, knowing how hard it must have been for her to be here.
"You said that last time," he muttered softly, his hair falling in his face as he watched her expression.
"And I was right last time."
He huffed a quiet laugh, "Yeah,"
"You usually are right." He continued.
"You're finally starting to learn." A faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lip as their eyes met.
Thorn swallowed thickly before she turned her attention back through the trees.
"Just... don't go too far." Her voice was barely above a whisper. Almost lost to the whoosh of the wind.
Xavier nodded, "Of course I won't."
He stepped past her into the trees, and Thorn hesitated for half a second.
Unsure if she should follow before she actually did.
The deeper they went, the more the air changed.
The Resonance wasn't as loud here, but it wasn't gone either. It threaded through the roots, the soil, the space between branches like something older than the school itself.
Thorn stopped in a small clearing.
"Okay," she said, rolling her shoulders once. "Let's get this over with."
Xavier didn't argue.
He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, the beginnings of a rune sketched across it. It was unfinished and exploratory. Something he hadn't read in any of the journals or books he had been stealing from the restricted archives.
"Try not to force it this time," he said, holding the page out, "Just… let it happen."
Thorn shot him a look.
"That has literally never worked for me."
"Yeah," he said. "That's kind of the problem."
She exhaled sharply, "So how is that going to help now?"
"Can we at least just... try?" Xavier asked, his voice soft. Softer than Thorn had ever heard it before.
She sighed deeply; she didn't want to argue with him. Not when he was clearly trying so hard to help. She lifted her hand, and the shadows moved almost immediately.
Before she told them to.
They slipped along the ground, curling around her boots, rising slightly like they were waiting for instruction she hadn't given yet.
Thorn froze.
"…I didn't do that."
"I know," Xavier said quietly.
Her fingers twitched.
The shadows reacted again, sharper this time, stretching outward before snapping back. Thorn sharply swung her hand down, her brows furrowed from frustration.
"Okay," she muttered. "I hated that."
"It's like they're anticipating you," Xavier said, stepping a little closer. "Or... maybe reacting to something else."
"Like what?" Thorn asked, her gaze locked onto Xavier's unreadable expression. He hesitated, unsure if he should even say it.
"…Your emotions."
Thorn stilled.
"That's not––" She shook her head, "No. They have never reacted to my emotions before. There's no reason why they would start now."
She tried to keep her tone even, but Xavier had been around long enough to tell she was desperately trying to cover the panic.
"You've also been malnourished the entire time you've been trying to figure them out," Xavier explained.
The shadows flared just enough to prove his point.
She clenched her jaw, her thoughts louder than his voice.
"Don't say it like that."
"Like what?"
"Like I'm the problem."
"You're not the problem," he said quickly. "The problem always has been and always will be the academy starving you, Thorn. We are trying to fix the problem they created. Not you."
She went still again.
That landed, and after a beat, he took a step back, pointing at the case on her back.
"Try the violin," he added, softer now.
Thorn hesitated for a second, "What?"
"Try the violin if I'm right about the shadows reacting to your emotions. They should chill out when you play."
"Why would they?"
"Because of how you get lost in your music." He said, as if it were a matter of fact, and not the consequence of being too close for too long. "You're in your happy place when you play."
Thorn tensed, not used to being so seen.
"Stop that." She said sharply.
"Stop what?"
"Noticing things."
Xavier tried his best to bite the smile off his face, instead dropping his gaze to the ground to hide it.
"Sure."
Thorn unzipped the case and carefully pulled out her violin, adjusting the shoulder rest before she set it comfortably against her collarbone.
She lifted the bow, allowing it to meet the strings.
The shadows responded instantly.
Not violently.
Not like before.
This was entirely different.
They leaned toward her as they recognized her now, like they had been waiting for this moment.
Xavier felt it hit him a second later.
A pull.
Not toward the sound, but toward her.
He sucked in a quiet breath.
"Okay," he murmured under his breath. "That's new."
Thorn didn't answer.
She was focused now, adjusting her playing instinctively, testing the edges of the response.
The shadows moved with her.
Not independently anymore.
They followed the music. Followed the rhythm and the melody that she played.
Xavier stepped closer, unfolding the paper in his hand.
"Hold that," he said.
She did.
He pulled a pen from his pocket and adjusted the rune he had brought with him slightly, angling the lines differently.
Then, carefully, he pressed it into the space between them.
The effect was immediate.
The sound shifted.
Not louder, not stronger in a sense. It was just more… structured.
The shadows stilled.
Then, they moved again, but cleaner this time. More controlled.
Thorn's eyes flicked to him.
"…You felt that?"
"Yeah."
"That wasn't me." She'd start to panic, her violin dipping below her shoulder.
"I know."
A pause.
Neither of them moved.
The air between them tightened, not with danger, but with something else, something quieter. Something that didn't feel demanding of them or what they could offer.
Something neither of them had a name for.
Thorn's breathing had shifted now, uneven at the edges.
The shadows responded instantly, rising higher, curling tighter.
Xavier stepped forward without thinking.
"Hey," he said softly.
She didn't look at him.
"They're not listening," she muttered. "I'm not even telling them to—"
"I know."
He reached up, carefully and slowly, allowing her the chance to pull away if she needed to.
When she didn't, he placed his hand against her face. "Just relax, take a deep breath."
Thorn inhaled slowly.
Her eyes slipped shut.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then the shadows dropped all at once, collapsing back against the forest floor like a tide retreating from shore.
Xavier felt the shift immediately.
The tension in the air loosened.
The pressure eased.
But the shadows didn't disappear.
Instead, they curled.
Not around her.
Around him.
Around his legs, brushing lightly against his boots like something that had finally found where it was supposed to settle.
Xavier blinked. "…Okay."
Thorn's eyes snapped open.
The moment she realized what they were doing, she froze completely.
The shadows tightened faintly around Xavier's ankles before smoothing back out again, almost affectionate in the way they lingered near him.
Xavier let out a slow breath, staring down at them in open disbelief.
"They like me," he said, half under his breath.
Thorn immediately recoiled from the sentence, as if it had physically offended her.
"They absolutely do not."
Xavier glanced downward again as the shadows responded instantly, tightening slightly around his boots as if they disagreed with her personally.
"…They definitely do."
She stepped backward so fast the contact between them snapped immediately.
The shadows reacted with her, retreating sharply across the ground before stopping halfway, visibly reluctant to leave him completely.
Which somehow made it worse.
"I hate that," she said quickly.
"Yeah, I figured."
"Don't say that again."
"Say what?"
"That they—" she gestured vaguely at the ground, as the shadows shamelessly tried to reach for him again, "—like you."
Xavier smiled slightly.
"Okay."
She narrowed her eyes.
"You're thinking it."
"Yeah."
"Stop it."
"No."
And for a second, just a second, Thorn looked like she might smile.
She looked away quickly, breaking the eye contact before it could drift into something more.
"Let's just… keep going," she muttered.
By the time they left the woods, the moon had ascended high in the sky.
The air had grown colder, and the campus had grown quiet as everyone had drifted off to their dorms.
Thorn walked beside him, arms crossed again, but the tension in her shoulders had changed.
Less panic, and more control. They weren't perfect, but they were better.
"Walk you back?" Xavier asked.
"You already are."
"You're right."
The sound of their footsteps filled the space between them—her heels clicking against the pavement, his boots quieter, heavier. It echoed more than it should have in the empty courtyard.
Thorn kept her gaze forward.
"I heard they might start classes back up."
Xavier glanced at her, catching the seriousness in her expression. "Really?"
"Yeah." She shrugged slightly. "Pippa told me. She's been trying out shifting into smaller animals."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Instead of a fly on the wall," Thorn added, her voice dry, "she's the mouse in the corner."
Xavier let out a quiet breath of a laugh, the corner of his mouth pulling up. "That girl…"
"Yeah."
There was a flicker of something softer in her tone, there and gone just as quickly.
He glanced at her again, a little more thoughtful this time. "You two really are cut from the same cloth. Wouldn't be able to tell just from looking at you, though."
The words landed before he could soften them.
"You wouldn't say that if you saw how I looked before I changed."
The moment it left her mouth, she recoiled like she'd touched something hot.
"I mean—" Thorn's gaze dropped immediately, fixing on the pavement. "I just look a bit different now."
Xavier didn't respond right away, but he understood.
Of course he did.
He didn't need her to say the rest; Before she died.
"Is it hard?" he asked instead, quieter now.
Thorn blinked, thrown slightly. "Is what hard?"
"Looking different."
Her steps slowed.
Then stopped.
For a second, it looked like she might brush it off like she always did. Deflect, joke, anything to keep from answering.
Instead, she exhaled.
"Uh…" Her voice caught, just barely. She stared somewhere past him, unfocused. "Yeah, actually…"
She paused longer this time.
"…it is."
Xavier nodded once. Acknowledging the extent of what she had just offered to him.
And for some reason, that felt bigger than anything else he could've said.
"If you want to talk about it," he added, voice steady, "I'm here."
Thorn didn't answer.
But she didn't shut him out either.
They started walking again.
Slower now.
The path curved back toward the dorms, cutting through stretches of shadow and soft pools of lamplight. The mountains loomed in the distance, dark and quiet, like they'd been watching everything unfold and chosen not to interfere.
A breeze moved through the courtyard, tugging lightly at Thorn's hair, lifting a few strands before letting them fall again. She adjusted her sleeves slightly, more out of habit than necessity.
Xavier kept pace beside her.
Not too close, but not distant either.
Just there, the presence that didn't ask for anything.
Thorn's gaze flicked sideways once.
Brief and measuring.
Then back ahead.
They reached the dorm building sooner than it felt like they should have.
Thorn slowed before she stopped in front of her door.
Her hand hovered near the handle, but didn't touch it yet.
For a second, she just stood there.
"…Thanks," she said, not looking at him.
"For what?"
"For not letting me lose it back there."
He nodded once.
"Anytime."
She lingered for half a second, then slipped inside, the door clicking shut.
Xavier stood there for a moment longer than necessary.
Then turned.
And started back toward his own dorm.
He didn't hear it at first.
That was the problem.
His breath fogged faintly in the cold night air, and for a second, instinct crawled up his spine, sharp and electric.
Wrong.
Something was wrong.
Then, there was movement, but it wasn't seen.
Only felt.
A shift in pressure to his left, like the air itself flinched.
His head snapped toward it.
"Who's—"
The hit came from the side.
Violent.
Invisible.
It slammed into his ribs like a moving wall, lifting him off his feet and throwing him hard across the path.
He hit the ground with a choking gasp, gravel biting into his palms as his vision burst white.
Before he could recover, something caught him.
Not hands.
Force.
It seized the front of his hoodie and dragged him back, boots scraping uselessly against the stone as he was hauled several feet like he weighed nothing.
Just enough to leave him disoriented.
Just enough to make a point.
For one violent second, it reminded him of Nevermore. Of Rowan. Of the helplessness of being lifted off the ground by someone who had already decided they could hurt you.
Xavier groaned; his body ached deeply as he tried to recompose himself.
Marcellus stepped out of the shadows.
Calm. Composed.
Like this had already ended in his head.
"You really don't know when to stop, do you?"
Xavier forced himself upright, one hand braced against the ground, chest heaving as he sucked in air that didn't feel like enough.
"Get away from me."
Marcellus tilted his head slightly with a small, cold smile.
Then lifted his hand, and the world shifted.
Xavier's body jerked upward without warning. Feet leaving the ground, spine snapping straight as the invisible grip tightened around his torso.
For a split second, there was nothing beneath him.
No control.
No balance.
Just suspension.
Then, Xavier was thrown.
Not dropped.
Driven.
His back hit the stone path with a sickening crack, breath exploding out of him as his head snapped violently to the side.
The sound echoed too loudly in the silence.
Too sharp.
Marcellus didn't rush.
He took a step forward.
Measured.
"You embarrassed me," he said, voice low, almost conversational. "Again."
Xavier tried to move.
His arm twitched once, but the pressure slammed down on him again.
Harder this time.
His shoulders were pinned to the ground like something massive was sitting on his chest.
He coughed, the taste of iron flooding his mouth.
Another hit, less controlled and angrier.
His body jerked under it, gravel grinding into his skin.
"You think this is a game?" Marcellus snapped, the calm cracking just slightly now.
Xavier forced his head up anyway.
Forced himself to look at him.
Even with blood at the corner of his mouth.
Even with his lungs burning.
"You don't get to play hero here," Marcellus continued, stepping closer.
"You don't get to decide how this goes."
The pressure tightened.
Trying to crush the fight out of him.
Xavier spat blood to the side.
Then looked up at him, eyes sharp and defiant.
Unbroken.
"Yeah," he rasped. "I kind of do."
Something in Marcellus snapped.
Just a flicker, but it was enough to show Xavier just what he knew all along.
That Thorn wasn't the monster Reichenbach Academy should be scared of; Marcellus was.
His hand clenched.
The force shifted violently, yanking Xavier upward again, not as controlled this time, more jagged, more unstable, as his hoodie dragged him forward until they were face to face.
Close enough to feel each other's breath.
"You're going to stay away from her," Marcellus said quietly.
Too quietly.
The kind of quiet that meant something worse was coming.
"Or I will make sure you regret it."
Xavier didn't look away.
Didn't blink.
Even with the invisible pressure tightening around his throat.
"Try it."
Silence.
Suddenly, the wind changed.
Not natural.
It didn't build.
It arrived.
A sharp, sudden rush tore through the path, whipping through the trees and dragging shadows with it like something unseen had exhaled too hard.
Marcellus frowned slightly, his focus flickering.
"What—"
The world shifted.
Not randomly, but intentionally.
They stretched along the ground. Longer than they should have been, darker than they had any right to be, coiling along the base of the stone pillars that lined the path.
Xavier felt it before he understood it.
The pressure on him wavered, as if something were interfering.
Then a loud, violent crack echoed in the air around them.
One of the pillars shuddered.
Marcellus's head snapped toward it, attention breaking completely now.
"What the—"
The base of the pillar split with a sharp, echoing fracture before it gave.
The entire column lurched forward, stone grinding against stone as it tipped.
Too fast.
Straight toward him.
Marcellus barely reacted in time.
The telekinetic grip around Xavier dropped completely as he threw both hands up, horrified by the seemingly uncanny timing.
The force slammed into him instead.
Xavier hit the ground hard again, lungs dragging in air as the weight vanished from his chest.
For a second, he just lay there. Staring up at the sky, chest rising unevenly, lungs dragging in air that still didn't feel like enough.
The pressure was finally gone.
No invisible weight.
No force pinning him down.
Only the echo of it.
The absence of it.
His fingers twitched against the stone, like his body hadn't caught up yet. Like it was still bracing for another hit that wasn't coming.
The shift.
The interruption.
Slowly, too slowly, his gaze dragged sideways.
Marcellus stood frozen a few feet away, arms raised, body frozen from the horror of a two-ton pillar almost falling on him.
Stone dust drifted in the air around him.
His jaw was clenched so tight it looked painful, muscles in his arms trembling as he kept the weight from crushing him.
But he wasn't looking at the pillar anymore.
He was looking at Xavier with something new in his expression.
Something that didn't belong.
Confusion, anger, and beneath it all, uncertainty.
Xavier didn't move.
Although it was more like he couldn't.
But something in his expression sharpened.
Because that wasn't luck, and deep down, he knew it.
"Fuck that," Marcellus muttered, breath uneven now, his control slipping at the edges. His gaze flicked between the pillar and Xavier like he was trying to rewrite what had just happened. "You are cursed."
Marcellus took a step forward, and the lamppost beside them flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then it was dark, plunging that stretch of the path into sudden, suffocating black.
Marcellus stilled.
Not the controlled stillness from before, this one was sharp.
Alert.
Instinctive.
The kind that came from something watching back.
"What—"
The darkness wasn't normal.
It wasn't just the absence of light.
It pressed.
Thick. Heavy. Alive.
Xavier felt it settle over his skin like something breathing too close.
Then the light snapped back on.
Harsh.
Sudden.
Xavier squinted against it, blinking rapidly as his vision struggled to adjust.
Across from him, Marcellus hadn't moved.
But his expression had.
The confusion was gone, and replaced with something colder.
Something tight.
Fear.
"… She's here, isn't she?" Marcellus said quietly.
Not to Xavier, but to the trees and the darkness that surrounded them.
His head turned slightly, eyes scanning the perimeter between them like he expected something to step out.
But nothing did.
Marcellus exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head once like he was forcing himself back into control.
"Congratulations," he muttered, glancing over his shoulder at Xavier. "Your little guard dog is here to protect you."
His voice dropped.
Colder and more dangerous than Xavier had heard it all night. As if the thought of Thorn being out here to save him pissed him off more than he'd ever dare to admit.
"But she won't always be around."
As the last syllable left Marcellus's lips, the lights died.
All of them.
All at once.
Every lamppost lining the path flickered out in a cascading snap of darkness, one after the other, until the world collapsed into absolute black.
No moonlight, no stars, nothing.
Xavier's breath caught, but not from the fear he should have felt, from recognition.
Because this felt familiar, like something he'd felt before in quiet moments, and in the spaces where Thorn stood too still.
Where the air bent around her just slightly wrong.
The dark didn't feel empty.
It felt held.
"Okay! I'm leaving!" Marcellus's voice cut through the black, sharper now, less certain.
His footsteps followed, careful against the stone path. Slower than before. Measured like he didn't trust where he was stepping.
"Enjoy your little protection detail."
Another step, and another
Then, nothing, as silence swallowed him whole.
Xavier didn't move.
Couldn't.
Time stretched.
Seconds, maybe minutes, bled together in the dark, his body slowly catching up to everything it had just been put through.
The adrenaline started to fade.
And with it, the pain came back.
All at once, it was sharp and heavy, and it lit up every inch of his body.
His ribs screamed when he tried to breathe too deeply. His head throbbed with a dull, pulsing ache that blurred the edges of his vision. His arms felt like they weighed twice as much as they should.
But underneath it was something steadier.
Almost safer.
The lights flickered violently overhead.
Once.
Then again.
For one awful second, the entire path plunged into darkness before the lamps sputtered back to life, dim and unstable at first, their pale glow struggling against the heavy shadows gathered between the trees.
Slowly, the world returned in pieces.
The frost-covered stone beneath him, the trees lining the path, and the shattered pillar split across the courtyard where it had crashed into the ground moments earlier.
And the space where Marcellus had been was empty.
Completely empty.
Xavier stared at it anyway.
At the absence and the lingering wrongness that still hung in the air like the night itself hadn't fully settled after what had just happened.
His throat tightened painfully as he swallowed, trying to force himself back into something solid, something real enough to hold onto.
"…Thorn," he said hoarsely.
The name barely made it past his lips.
More breath than sound.
No answer came.
Of course, it didn't, but he didn't need one.
Because somehow, deep down beneath the adrenaline and pain and ringing silence pressing against his skull, he already knew.
She had been there.
The realization hit him at the exact moment his body finally stopped cooperating.
His arm buckled first when he tried to push himself upright, strength draining out of it so suddenly it felt like his bones had dissolved beneath his skin.
"Shit—"
The word broke apart as his vision lurched violently sideways.
The courtyard tilted around him.
For one disorienting second, the world became nothing but blurred stone and fractured light as he barely caught himself before collapsing again, his shoulder slamming hard against the frozen pavement.
Pain shot sharply through him.
But it already felt far away.
Everything did.
The lamps overhead burned too brightly now, their glow smearing strangely at the edges of his vision while the silence around him grew unbearably loud.
His heartbeat thundered unevenly in his ears, heavy and unstable, like even his body couldn't settle on whether it was safe yet.
Xavier forced himself to move again anyway.
Forced himself onto one shaking elbow.
The edges of his vision darkened immediately.
His breath came shallow and uneven as he clenched his jaw hard enough to hurt.
"…Just get up," he muttered under his breath.
But his body refused to listen.
His fingers slipped uselessly against the stone.
What little strength he had left finally gave out beneath him.
And this time, he didn't catch himself.
He hit the ground fully, cheek pressed against the freezing pavement as exhaustion crashed through him all at once, heavier than the pain, heavier than fear.
His body stopped fighting after that.
The darkness creeping into the edges of his vision no longer felt distant.
It felt close.
Not suffocating or threatening, but just… there.
Familiar in a way he didn't entirely understand.
Like something unseen had curled itself carefully around him in the aftermath, lingering just out of sight.
Protective.
The last thing Xavier thought before everything finally went black wasn't fear.
It was certainty.
She came.