Elara’s POV
“Who told you you were broken?”
The girl stared at the floor. Her knuckles were white around a torn strap of her bag. The training hall smelled like chalk, leather, and rain. Outside, the bells marked the first hour after drills. Inside, thirty students held plank at Mira’s count while Vessa walked the line, tapping ankles and pride. The girl in front of me did not move to join them. She shook, small and angry.
“Say the name,” I said. “Out loud.”
She lifted her chin a little. “Everyone.”
“Everyone does not fit in one mouth,” I said. “Pick one.”
She swallowed. “Tor. He said my wolf is thin. That I am a waste.”
“Tor is wrong,” I said. “What is your name.”
“Rhea,” she said.
I nodded at her strap. “Fix your bag, Rhea. Then you and I will walk.”
She fumbled the leather. Her fingers slipped twice. I waited. When the knot held, I opened the side door and let the cool air hit our faces. The yard below buzzed with voices and the clack of wood practice swords. On the roof, Ilia moved like wind, stringing a line for the climbing class. Serena crossed the courtyard with a basket and a list, calling for volunteers for the infirmary shift. The flag with two moons moved steady on the pole.
Rhea rubbed the scar at her collar. It was pale, fresh. My teeth set. Forced bond, healed but still loud.
“Did he mark you,” I asked.
“No,” she said fast. “He just said no. In front of everyone.” Her throat worked. “He said I was small. That I felt wrong. That he could not hear me.”
“Then he did you a favor,” I said.
She flinched, “It does not feel like a favor.”
“It never does on the first day,” I said. “Walk.”
We took the path along the garden wall. Students ran in the lower ring. Zara’s shield class thumped like a slow drum. Jory shouted about soup portions at the canteen, arguing with Fenna about bread. Eden walked backward through a knot of apprentices, reading names and nearly hitting a post. He did not hit it. He never does.
Rhea kept her eyes on her boots. “They look at me like I am a joke.”
6:08 Sat, Sep 27
Chapter 282
“Then they are short on work,” I said. “We have plenty. They will learn.”
1993
55 your féla
We passed the sparring circle. Vessa’s voice cracked across the yard. “You lose form before you lose breath. Fix
both.”
Rhea’s mouth twitched. “She is scary.”
“She is honest,” I said. “That is rarer.”
We turned into the east wing where the classrooms opened like clean mouths. On one door, a slate read: Crescent Gate Academy, Bench Two: Law and Ledger. On another: Fieldcraft. On mine: Gamma Protocol, First Principles. I pushed it open with my shoulder.
“Inside,” I said.
Rhea stepped in and stopped. The room was plain. Tables. Chalk board. A bowl flame by the door. On the back wall, a cleaned and framed copy of the first Crescent Court order hung where every student had to see it when they stood to leave. No forced bonds. Work over price. Witness over whispers.
Rhea’s eyes flicked there and away. “You wrote that.”
“We wrote it together,” I said. “Sit.”
She perched on the edge of a bench, stiff. I sat across from her and set my elbows on the table. My palm left a print in chalk dust. I did not wipe it.
“Tell me the truth,” I said. “Do you want him back.”
Her mouth trembled. “I want to stop hurting.”
“That is different,” I said. “One is a person. One is a wound. You do not feed a wound a person.”
Her eyes filled and did not fall. “I hate crying.”
“Then let your hands talk,” I said. I pushed a practice knife across the table. “Hold it. Show me how you stand when someone says no.”
She picked up the knife wrong. I tilted my head. She corrected. She stood. Her feet shifted wider. Not bad.
“Again,” I said. “Breathe.”
Her chest lifted. The blade steadied.
“Better,” I said. I rose and moved to her side. My voice dropped. “Rhea, look at me.”
She did.
“This rejection isn’t your ruin,” I said. “It’s your rebirth.”
Her jaw clenched. The words hit and sat. She took one breath like she was learning how. Another. Some of the tremble left her fingers.
Chapter 282
“He said my wolf is thin,” she whispered.
“Then let it be fast,” I said. “Let it be quiet. A thin blade still cuts.”
65 usuntiant
A rap sounded on the door. Mira leaned in, hair damp with sweat, shield slung, “You stealing my student or mentoring.”
“Both,” I said.
Mira eyed Rhea’s stance. “She holds like she means to stay”
“Good,” I said. “Tor in your class?”
“Top row,” she said.
“Send him,” I said.
Mira’s mouth curved. “With pleasure.” She disappeared.
Rhea stiffened. “Please do not.”
“He does not get to stand in your mouth,” I said. “He gets to stand in this room like anyone else.”
A minute later Tor slouched in. He was tall, sure of it, hair tied back tight. He did not look at Rhea. He looked at me like I was a test he could pass with charm.
“Alpha,” he said. “You called.”
“I did,” I said. “Shut the door.”
He did.
I pointed at the bench. “Stand there.”
He obeyed, a half beat slow.
“You told this student she was a waste,” I said. “Is that your craft now. Wasting people.”
He blinked. “I said she did not feel right for me.”
“That is honest,” I said. “Then you added insult. That is lazy.”
He shifted. “I was frustrated.”
“With yourself,” I said. “Say it.”
He looked at the floor. “With myself.”
“Why,” I said.
He swallowed. “Because I did not feel anything when I was supposed to.”
11990
Chapter 282
“There is no supposed,” I said. “You want a timetable. Go plant beans.”
Rhea choked on a laugh and then bit it back.
1d HD colchers
Tor risked a glance at her. “I did not mean to hurt you,” he said. The words were stiff but true.
“You did,” she said.
He nodded. “I did.”
“Make it right,” I said.
He tensed. “How.”
“Publicly,” I said. “You apologize in the yard before your next drill. Then you carry packs for any student who has a scar they did not ask for. All week. You keep your mouth shut while you do it.”
He opened his mouth. Vessa’s voice thundered from the yard like fate. “Mouths lose matches. Feet win them.”
He shut it. “Yes, Alpha.”
“Go,” I said. “Send Serena to me.”
He left fast. The door clicked. Rhea shook again, but it was a different shake. Less fear. More blood coming back to cold fingers.
“You did not have to do that,” she said.
“I did,” I said. “We are not building another place where girls have to eat their pain to keep the peace.”
Serena slid in with her basket and her list. “I heard my name.”
“Rhea, this is Serena,” I said. “Bond–healer in training and in charge of the quiet bench. She will show you how to make the mark fade faster.”
Serena smiled. “Salves and time. Also work. I have gloves and chores. We will use both.”
Rhea nodded. “Okay.”
“Good,” Serena said. “Class after mid–meal. Bring no one.” She squeezed Rhea’s shoulder and looked at me. “The Court received three petitions before breakfast. Two about seating. One about land.”
“Seat disputes go to bench two,” I said. “Land waits until dusk. I will take both parties on a walk first.”
“Walking solves everything,” Serena said dryly. She left in a swish of lists.
Rhea looked at the blade again. “Do you think my wolf will come.”
“It is already here,” I said. “You did not run.”
She breathed out. “I wanted to.”
“And you did not,” I said. “Stand with me now. We will
go outside.”
We stepped back into the hall and took the stairs to the roof. Ilia waved from a beam and grinned down at us The rope course sprawled across the far side, knots neat, routes clear. Below, the yard boiled with motion. Classes turned over. Drums marked time. The smell of soup drifted up.
Cael stood at the flag base with Elder Briar and Eden. They had the ledger open on a barrel. Cael looked up as we came down the steps. Our eyes met. The cord at his wrist showed under his sleeve. Mine rubbed my skin. Warm. Steady.
“How goes Bench One,” he called.
“Breathing,” I said.
“Good,” he said. He looked at Rhea. “Welcome to the roof, student.”
She flushed. “Thank you.”
“Do you want to run the low wall,” Ilia shouted. “First time is free. Second time costs you a joke.”
Rhea blinked. “A joke.”
“It is our tax,” Ilia said.
Rhea smiled, small and real. “Okay.”
“Later,” I said. “First, we eat.”
We crossed to the canteen shelter. Fenna slid bowls across the counter like a general. “Soup. Bread. Salad. Meat if you ask nice. Jory, stop eating while you serve.”
Jory pretended not to hear. He handed Rhea a bowl like a prize. “New face gets extra.”
Fenna snorted. “Everyone gets extra on windy days.” She set a small dish near me. “Grapefruit oil. The bath waits until evening, but rub your wrists. You look like you held a rope too long.”
“I did,” I said, dabbing a drop on the cord. The scent lifted. Clean.
Rhea ate fast, then slower. She did not spill. Her hands steadied with bread. Voices blurred into a low hum. No one stared longer than a heartbeat. When they did, they looked away first. We built that rule with our eyes.
“Ready for one more walk,” I asked when her bowl was empty.
“Yes,” she said.
I led her past the arch into the small court behind the infirmary. A new stake stood in fresh earth. Two curves carved low. Night–bloom shoots had pushed up, green and certain. I felt the pull behind my ribs where the old weight used to sit. It did not move. It did not need to.
Rhea followed my gaze. “What is that.”
“Proof that dirt can hold promises,” I said. “You do not have to know more today,”
She studied the shoots like they were trying to speak. “They look soft.”
“They will open when the air cools,” I said. “You can come see.”
|| tat
A shadow fell over the path. Vessa strode in with Tor on her heels and half the class behind them. Tor set his pack down on the stones and bowed, low and quiet. He turned to Rhea. His voice did not shake,
“I was lazy and cruel,” he said. “I am sorry.”
She looked at him without blinking. “You were.”
He nodded. “I will carry packs. I will keep quiet.”
“You will listen,” she said.
“Yes,” he said.
She watched him a long breath. Then she pointed to the stack of water skins. “Start with those.”
He lifted two. Then four. His biceps trembled. He did not complain. The class watched like they were learning a new language. Maybe they were.
Vessa met my eyes. “New case at the gate,” she said. “A mother wants her daughter back. The daughter wants to stay.”
“How old,” I asked.
“Sixteen,” she said. “From Cragfen. Mother says school is witch work. Daughter says school is the only place she can breathe.”
Rhea flinched.
“You can come,” I told her. “Stand on the side and watch.”
She nodded, quick,
We cut across the yard. Cael fell in on my right, Eden on my left with the ledger tucked under his arm. Mira joined us halfway, shield up because she never walks without it. Serena dritted behind, already counting people into lines. Jory tried to follow and Fenna reeled him back by the apron.
At the gate, a woman waited with dust in her hem and heat in her eyes. The girl beside her had a mouth set like a blade sheath. They did not look at each other. They looked at me.
“Court or Academy,” I asked.
“Both,” the mother said.
“Then we start here,” I said. I stepped into the middle of the road and drew a circle with the toe of my boot. Small. Plain. The girl’s eyes flicked down to it. The mother’s chin rose.
“You speak,” I told the girl. “Then she speaks. Then we go to the circle where others will hear. No one drags anyone.”
The mother bristled. “She is my blood.”
“She is a person,” I said. “Both can be true without one eating the other.”
The girl’s breath shook. “I want to stay.”
“Why,” I asked.
“Because I can think here,” she said. “At home I only learn to shrink.”
The mother made a sound like a choke. “You are my child.”
“I still have lungs,” the girl said.
Rhea’s fingers found the strap of her bag. She did not shake this time. She watched the girl like she had found a mirror that told the truth.
Cael’s voice stayed low. “Set a path.”
“Work for both,” I said. “Mother, you take a room in the guest wing for one week. You watch classes. You eat with us. You see what she means by think. Daughter, you work the field before dawn with Mira’s team for that same week so your head does not float away on words.”
The mother stiffened. “I have goats.”
“Eden will send a runner to mind them,” I said. “We are not thieves.”
The girl swallowed. “I can do dawn.”
“Good,” I said. “At week’s end, we stand in the Court. If you still pull apart, we draw a line closer to the middle. No one wins if someone loses air.”
The mother stared at me. Then at her daughter. Then at the wall. Her shoulders fell a finger. “One week,” she said.
“One week,” I said.
She nodded, tight. The girl nodded back, startled. Serena stepped forward with a list and a room key. Mira tapped the girl’s wrist with her shield and pointed at the field. Vessa made a note like a threat. Eden wrote fast and neat. Cael stayed at my side and let the air settle.
Rhea exhaled like she had been holding her breath since she was born. “I can help on dawn team,” she said. “If
you want.”
Mira glanced at her. “Bring gloves,” she said. “The dirt does not care about your feelings.”
Rhea smiled. “Good.”
“He said my wolf is thin,” she whispered.
“Then let it be fast,” I said. “Let it be quiet. A thin blade still cuts.”
820
255 vouchers
A rap sounded on the door. Mira leaned in, hair damp with sweat, shield slung. “You stealing my student or mentoring.”
“Both,” I said.
Mira eyed Rhea’s stance. “She holds like she means to stay.”
“Good,” I said. “Tor in your class?”
“Top row,” she said.
“Send him,” I said.
Mira’s mouth curved. “With pleasure.” She disappeared.
Rhea stiffened. “Please do not.”
“He does not get to stand in your mouth,” I said. “He gets to stand in this room like anyone else.”
A minute later Tor slouched in. He was tall, sure of it, hair tied back tight. He did not look at Rhea. He looked at me like I was a test he could pass with charm.
“Alpha,” he said. “You called.”
“I did,” I said. “Shut the door.”
He did.
I pointed at the bench. “Stand there.”
He obeyed, a half beat slow.
“You told this student she was a waste,” I said. “Is that your craft now. Wasting people.”
He blinked. “I said she did not feel right for me,”
“That is honest,” I said. “Then you added insult. That is lazy.”
He shifted, “I was frustrated.”
“With yourself,” I said. “Say it.”
He looked at the floor. “With myself.”
“Why,” I said.
He swallowed. “Because I did not feel anything when I was supposed to.”
:
“There is no supposed,” I said. “You want a timetable. Go plant beans.”
Rhea choked on a laugh and then bit it back.
Tor risked a glance at her. “I did not mean to hurt you,” he said. The words were stiff but true.
“You did,” she said.
He nodded. “I did.”
“Make it right,” I said.
He tensed. “How.”
15 vocars
“Publicly,” I said. “You apologize in the yard before your next drill. Then you carry packs for any student who has a scar they did not ask for. All week. You keep your mouth shut while you do it.”
He opened his mouth. Vessa’s voice thundered from the yard like fate. “Mouths lose matches. Feet win them.”
He shut it. “Yes, Alpha.”
“Go,” I said. “Send Serena to me.”
He left fast. The door clicked. Rhea shook again, but it was a different shake. Less fear. More blood coming back to cold fingers.
“You did not have to do that,” she said.
“I did,” I said. “We are not building another place where girls have to eat their pain to keep the peace.”
Serena slid in with her basket and her list. “I heard my name.”
“Rhea, this is Serena,” I said. “Bond–healer in training and in charge of the quiet bench. She will show you how to make the mark fade faster.”
Serena smiled. “Salves and time. Also work. I have gloves and chores. We will use both.”
Rhea nodded. “Okay.”
“Good,” Serena said. “Class after mid–meal. Bring no one.” She squeezed Rhea’s shoulder and looked at me. “The Court received three petitions before breakfast. Two about seating. One about land.”
“Seat disputes go to bench two,” I said. “Land waits until dusk. I will take both parties on a walk first.”
“Walking solves everything,” Serena said dryly. She left in a swish of lists.
Rhea looked at the blade again. “Do you think my wolf will come.”
“It is already here,” I said. “You did not run.”
She breathed out. “I wanted to.”
“And you did not,” I said. “Stand with me now. We will go outside.”
พรพ
11 60 vouchers
We stepped back into the hall and took the stairs to the roof. Ilia waved from a beam and grinned down at us. The rope course sprawled across the far side, knots neat, routes clear. Below, the yard boiled with motion. Classes turned over. Drums marked time. The smell of soup drifted up.
Cael stood at the flag base with Elder Briar and Eden. They had the ledger open on a barrel. Cael looked up as we came down the steps. Our eyes met. The cord at his wrist showed under his sleeve. Mine rubbed my skin. Warm. Steady.
“How goes Bench One,” he called.
“Breathing,” I said.
“Good,” he said. He looked at Rhea. “Welcome to the roof, student.”
She flushed. “Thank you.”
“Do
you want to run the low wall,” Ilia shouted. “First time is free. Second time costs you a joke.”
Rhea blinked. “A joke.”
“It is our tax,” Ilia said.
Rhea smiled, small and real. “Okay.”
“Later,” I said. “First, we eat.”
We crossed to the canteen shelter. Fenna slid bowls across the counter like a general. “Soup. Bread. Salad. Meat if you ask nice. Jory, stop eating while you serve.”
Jory pretended not to hear. He handed Rhea a bowl like a prize. “New face gets extra.”
Fenna snorted. “Everyone gets extra on windy days.” She set a small dish near me. “Grapefruit oil. The bath waits until evening, but rub your wrists. You look like you held a rope too long.”
“I did,” I said, dabbing a drop on the cord. The scent lifted. Clean.
Rhea ate fast, then slower. She did not spill. Her hands steadied with bread. Voices blurred into a low hum. No one stared longer than a heartbeat. When they did, they looked away first. We built that rule with our eyes.
“Ready for one more walk,” I asked when her bowl was empty.
“Yes,” she said.
I led her past the arch into the small court behind the infirmary. A new stake stood in fresh earth. Two curves carved low. Night–bloom shoots had pushed up, green and certain. I felt the pull behind my ribs where the old weight used to sit. It did not move. It did not need to.
Rhea followed my gaze. “What is that.”
:
“Proof that dirt can hold promises,” I said. “You do not have to know more today.”
She studied the shoots like they were trying to speak. “They look soft.”
“They will open when the air cools,” I said. “You can come see.”
870
A shadow fell over the path. Vessa strode in with Tor on her heels and half the class behind them. Tor set his pack down on the stones and bowed, low and quiet. He turned to Rhea. His voice did not shake.
“I was lazy and cruel,” he said. “I am sorry.”
She looked at him without blinking. “You were.”
He nodded. “I will carry packs. I will keep quiet.”
“You will listen,” she said.
“Yes,” he said.
She watched him a long breath. Then she pointed to the stack of water skins. “Start with those.”
He lifted two. Then four. His biceps trembled. He did not complain. The class watched like they were learning a new language. Maybe they were.
Vessa met my eyes. “New case at the gate,” she said. “A mother wants her daughter back. The daughter wants to stay.”
“How old,” I asked.
“Sixteen,” she said: “From Cragfen. Mother says school is witch work. Daughter says school is the only place she can breathe.”
Rhea flinched.
“You can come,” I told her. “Stand on the side and watch.”
She nodded, quick.
We cut across the yard. Cael fell in on my right, Eden on my left with the ledger tucked under his arm. Mira joined us halfway, shield up because she never walks without it. Serena drifted behind, already counting people into lines. Jory tried to follow and Fenna reeled him back by the apron.
At the gate, a woman waited with dust in her hem and heat in her eyes. The girl beside her had a mouth set like a blade sheath. They did not look at each other. They looked at me.
“Court or Academy,” I asked.
“Both,” the mother said.
“Then we start here,” I said. I stepped into the middle of the road and drew a circle with the toe of my boot. Small. Plain. The girl’s eyes flicked down to it. The mother’s chin rose.
“You speak,” I told the girl. “Then she speaks. Then we go to the circle where others will hear. No one drags anyone.”
The mother bristled. “She is my blood.”
“She is a person,” I said. “Both can be true without one eating the other.”
The girl’s breath shook. “I want to stay.”
“Why,” I asked.
“Because I can think here,” she said. “At home I only learn to shrink.”
The mother made a sound like a choke. “You are my child.”
“I still have lungs,” the girl said.
Rhea’s fingers found the strap of her bag. She did not shake this time. She watched the girl like she had found a mirror that told the truth.
Cael’s voice stayed low. “Set a path.”
“Work for both,” I said. “Mother, you take a room in the guest wing for one week. You watch classes. You eat with us. You see what she means by think. Daughter, you work the field before dawn with Mira’s team for that same week so your head does not float away on words.”
The mother stiffened. “I have goats.”
“Eden will send a runner to mind them,” I said. “We are not thieves.”
The girl swallowed. “I can do dawn.”
“Good,” I said. “At week’s end, we stand in the Court. If you still pull apart, we draw a line closer to the middle. No one wins if someone loses air.”
The mother stared at me. Then at her daughter. Then at the wall. Her shoulders fell a finger. “One week,” she said.
“One week,” I said.
She nodded, tight. The girl nodded back, startled. Serena stepped forward with a list and a room key. Mira tapped the girl’s wrist with her shield and pointed at the field. Vessa made a note like a threat. Eden wrote fast and neat. Cael stayed at my side and let the air settle.
Rhea exhaled like she had been holding her breath since she was born. “I can help on dawn team,” she said. “If
you want.”
Mira glanced at her. “Bring gloves,” she said. “The dirt does not care about your feelings.”
Rhea smiled. “Good.”
6:10 Sat, Sep 27
Chapter 282
The mother rubbed her thumb over the key Serena had given her. “Do I sign something,” she asked, voice smaller.
“Tomorrow,” Eden said gently. “Today you eat.”
She nodded, confused and grateful at once. We see that look a lot. It fades. It comes back. It fades again Thou is the work.
We turned from the gate. The academy breathed around us. The drums marked time. The flag moved The shoots in the garden would open when the air cooled. Rhea walked beside me, step for step.
“Is this what rebirth feels like,” she asked, quiet.
“No.” I said. “This is what the first clean breath feels like.”
She glanced at the cord on my wrist. “And after the first.”
“You take the second,” I said. “Then the third. Then you look back and do not know when the pain got small.”
Rhea nodded, eyes bright. “Can I ask one more thing.”
“Ask,” I said.
“If he comes back and wants me again, what do I say?”
