The academy's final bell rang with a deep, echoing resonance, rolling across the wide halls like the distant toll of some ancient temple. Students poured from classrooms in staggered waves—some laughing, some grumbling, some racing ahead as though freedom itself waited at the gate. The sky outside had shifted to the soft amber-orange of late afternoon, that golden hour where everything looked calmer than it truly was.
Kael and Finn stepped out of their classroom last, partly because they lingered to pack their notes carefully, and partly because they didn't want to get caught in the rush of excited, pushing bodies.
Finn stretched his arms above his head as they walked. "I swear Instructor Halden enjoys tormenting us. That lesson lasted five hours."
Kael smirked faintly. "It was two hours."
"Same thing," Finn grumbled.
But Kael could tell from the sparkle in Finn's eyes that he wasn't actually complaining. He was simply tired—and hungry—and still replaying the morning assembly in his head, like Kael was.
They walked through the corridor, shoes tapping on polished stone. The academy's walls—built of pale gray stone streaked with veins of shimmering silver—held warmth from the afternoon sun. The scent of chalk dust and incense lingered faintly. Students were drifting outside now, filling the courtyard with a hundred simultaneous conversations.
Kael felt no rush. If anything, he felt a strange weight behind his ribs—as though something important awaited him beyond the gate.
Finn bumped his shoulder playfully. "Earth to Kael."
"Hm?"
"You went quiet again."
"Just thinking."
"When do you not think?"
Kael didn't answer, because Finn wasn't wrong. The weight he'd carried since he woke that morning hadn't left. It pressed just beneath his ribs like a whisper he couldn't hear clearly, a feeling that something… awaited.
They stepped out through the academy's main double doors, and the warm sunlight washed over them. The courtyard looked peaceful, the tall spirit-lamps along the walkway flickering softly as they prepared for evening. A gentle wind rustled through the banners overhead.
Kael's gaze drifted automatically to the academy parking area.
And there he saw them.
Rowan Ravenshade stood beside the black sedan, his posture straight, his coat catching the light in a dignified way. Even among the other waiting parents and guardians, Rowan drew attention simply by existing. He had that presence—calm, strong, unspoken authority. His expression was neutral but carried warmth at the edges, as though he was always prepared to soften it for his children.
Beside him stood Zara.
Only seven years old, but already carrying the kind of presence that made passersby glance twice. Her soft chestnut-brown hair fell down her back in waves, catching gold from the sunlight. Her face—delicate, expressive, bright—lit up instantly the moment she spotted her brother.
"Kael!"
Her voice rang across the courtyard like a small bell.
Kael froze for a split second. That sound still felt impossible after seven years of silence. Then something inside him cracked open, and he walked—no, half-ran—toward her.
Zara sprinted the last few steps and threw her arms around him with all the enthusiasm her small body could hold. Kael staggered backward a little, then wrapped his arms around her.
Zara mumbled into his chest, "You took too long!"
Kael swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. "Classes ended late."
"You're lying. I know you walk slow."
Finn stopped beside them, smiling helplessly. "She already knows your weaknesses better than your instructors do."
Zara turned toward Finn, eyes wide and sparkling. "Finn!"
He bent down a little so she could hug him too. "I see your energy hasn't decreased in seven years."
"It increased," she said proudly, hands on hips.
Kael shook his head softly. "She's been like this all morning."
Rowan stepped forward, his voice calm and steady. "Ready to go home?"
Finn nodded politely. "Good evening, Sir Rowan."
Rowan nodded back. "Good evening, Finn. Your father said he'll be home early today, so I'll drop you off first."
"Thank you."
Rowan's gaze shifted to Kael—and something warm, steady, almost fragile flickered in his eyes. Relief. Pride. The quiet ache of a father who still feared losing what little he had left. His voice softened just a touch.
"Good day at the academy?"
Kael nodded. "Yes."
Finn laughed. "Better than yesterday. We didn't break anything today."
Zara gasped dramatically. "You broke something?"
Kael groaned. "It was an accident."
"Sort of," Finn added.
Rowan pressed two fingers lightly against the bridge of his nose. "If one of you destroys a wall again, I'll have to start paying rent to the academy."
Kael leaned in. "You say that like you don't already donate half the equipment in the training halls."
"Donations," Rowan muttered, opening the car door for Zara, "are for responsible children."
Zara hopped into the back seat with all the grace of a small lightning bolt. "I'm responsible!"
Finn raised a brow. "You nearly jumped off the balcony this morning to surprise your brother."
"That was responsible," Zara declared. "I didn't fall."
Kael sighed. "Zara…"
"What? You should've seen your face!"
They all got into the car—Rowan in the driver's seat, Zara behind him, Kael beside her, Finn in the passenger seat. The car smelled faintly of leather and Rowan's subtle cologne, and something warm—like cooked rice from earlier errands. The soft hum of the engine wrapped them in a gentle cocoon as Rowan started driving.
The academy slowly disappeared behind them, replaced by rows of tall shops, evening stalls, and families closing their storefronts.
Kael watched the passing scenery quietly.
Zara leaned toward him, whispering, "I missed you."
He looked at her—her big brown eyes, the tiny constellation of freckles dusted across her nose, the earnestness too sincere for someone so small.
"I missed you too," he whispered.
Zara smiled, satisfied.
Finn glanced back. "She's been clinging to you all day, huh?"
"She hasn't left my side," Kael murmured.
Rowan spoke suddenly, though his tone was calm. "Let her. She has the right."
Zara's hand found Kael's and squeezed. Kael didn't pull away.
The city passed around them—normal, bustling, unaware of the shadows Rowan carried in his mind.
For several minutes, the ride was peaceful.
Then Rowan slowed at an intersection, and without turning his head, he spoke in a low tone, the type adults used when they were trying not to alarm children.
"I heard… an officer talking earlier."
Finn looked over immediately. "About what?"
Zara blinked. "Papa?"
Rowan kept his eyes on the road. "Tomorrow evening, in the southern district… someone is going to be executed."
The air inside the car changed instantly.
The warm bubble shattered.
Kael's chest tightened. Finn's brows furrowed deeply.
Zara, being young, didn't fully understand but sensed the heaviness instantly. She shrank slightly against Kael, voice small. "Executed… means?"
Rowan hesitated.
Kael's hand gently covered Zara's, steady. "It means someone who did something very bad will face a punishment from the law."
Zara absorbed that with wide eyes. "A very bad thing?"
Kael nodded once.
Finn asked quietly, "Did they say who?"
Rowan's fingers tightened on the wheel. "A man accused of… multiple crimes. Rape. Murder."
Silence fell like a sudden drop in temperature.
Kael stared at the evening sky outside. The colors had shifted from gold to a deeper orange, like flames darkening.
Finn exhaled slowly, controlled. "People will gather."
Rowan nodded once. "The district will be tense. Crowded. Authorities aren't taking risks this time."
Kael's voice came out low. "I can feel it already."
Rowan glanced at him through the rearview mirror. "You always could."
A strange sensation prickled beneath Kael's skin—the light in him sensing tension, fear, chaos forming like a distant storm. It wasn't his magic reacting. It was something more human. The awareness he'd carried since he was small. He hated it.
Zara tugged Kael's sleeve, whispering, "Are we safe?"
Kael's voice softened. "We're safe."
Rowan spoke firmly. "Yes. I won't take you anywhere near that district. And no one will trouble you. Understand?"
Zara nodded slowly.
But Kael could still sense worry simmering inside her—the kind that didn't scream, but curled quietly like a cat under a bed.
Finn finally broke the silence. "Things like this… they always disturb the city."
Rowan nodded. "Exactly why I want both of you home before sunset tomorrow."
Zara peeked over the seat. "But I want ice cream tomorrow!"
Kael let out a small, helpless laugh despite the tension. "We can get it earlier. Before sunset."
Zara gasped dramatically. "Before sunset?! But ice cream tastes best after sunset!"
Finn snorted. "That's… not how ice cream works."
"It is for me," Zara insisted, crossing her arms.
Kael gently flicked her forehead. "Then we'll make it work."
Rowan allowed a small smile. "We'll figure something out."
The evening slowly shifted toward dusk as the car moved deeper into the residential district.
After several turns, Rowan slowed at a wide, elegant gate—the Vortemillien residence. Finn's home.
Large stone pillars framed the entrance, engraved with the family crest. Spirit lanterns flanked the path, glowing soft blue.
Finn opened the door. "Thanks for the ride."
Rowan nodded. "Tell your father I'll see him soon."
Finn smiled, then leaned down to Zara. "Don't stress too much. Kael's tougher than he looks."
Kael deadpanned. "My heartfelt thanks."
Finn grinned. "See you tomorrow."
He jogged into the estate, waving once before disappearing behind the tall wooden doors.
Rowan pulled the car forward, heading toward the Ravenshade home. The mood inside had gentled, but a quiet awareness lingered—something was happening in the city, something that wouldn't stay contained forever.
Zara rested her head on Kael's shoulder as the sky deepened into violet.
Kael stroked her hair absentmindedly, thoughts drifting like slow-moving clouds.
Tomorrow would bring tension.
Whispers.
Crowds.
Fear.
The city would tremble at the sight of justice—or something pretending to be justice.
He didn't know why, but somewhere deep inside him, something stirred.
Something that whispered a warning.
Something that sounded almost like—
"Be ready."
And as the car turned down their familiar lane, Kael felt a shiver crawl down the back of his spine, though the evening breeze was warm.
Tomorrow would not be ordinary.
Not for the city.
And certainly not for him.