The evening sun fell in slanting streaks through the high windows of the east corridor. Polished stone beneath his feet, the creak of a window hook moving in the wind. One of those shifts that felt more like a walk, albeit with a uniform and a look of duty.
Corin walked beside Serena. Her stride was quiet, almost silent, like someone used to walking in halls where her words would always carry more weight.
"Tell me, Cantara," Corin began after a while, "your last name. I've never heard it before. And I've looked pretty closely at the ranks and divisions."
Serena didn't answer for a few steps. Then, with a slight smile, "That's because you're not looking in the right Domain."
Corin furrowed his brow.
"I'm kind of a... diplomatic gesture," she said. "My family belongs to the High Council of Atrenor. My parents wanted me to spend a year here, to understand other structures. And to find out whether it's worth being interested in them."
"And?" Corin asked dryly.
Serena looked at him from the side. "I've decided not to rush to judgment."
A few steps led to a covered walkway where the wind picked up. For a moment, all they heard were their footsteps, the fluttering of fabric.
"And the ranking system?" Corin finally asked. "Does it work from your point of view?"
Serena stopped and tilted her head slightly. "It's fascinating how much people identify with a number. Or with what they think it means."
"And yet they fight to get higher."
"Because they think height means protection," she said. "But it's visibility. And visibility is an invitation."
Corin frowned. "An invitation to what?"
"To test."
They walked on.
After a while, she said almost casually: "I've never been a fan of forcing people into ranks. But there's something cleansing about it. You can see who's bluffing more quickly."
"And who's just being quiet," Corin added.
"Exactly."
The shift went quietly, almost too quietly considering the last few days. The steady clacking of their footsteps echoed across the marble floors of the east gallery. The setting sun cast warm light through the high windows, but Serena Cantara, as always, seemed unfazed by the changing hours. Her posture was straight, her gaze alert, her gait almost silent.
Corin strolled a little behind her, the logbook under his arm.
"Say, Serena... when our shift is over, would you have time? I'd need help with an essay, death zones."
She gave him a sidelong glance. "Death zones? Theoretical or practical?"
"Theoretical. Still. I have no idea how to classify it properly."
She nodded slowly, pushing a loose strand of hair out of her face. "Actually, I had something planned for the evening."
"Oh."
"But I'd be willing to help you, if you'd help me in return."
Corin raised an eyebrow. "Depends on what."
"Make sure Cearen doesn't have a dance partner at the ball."
A brief moment of silence.
"You're serious."
"He's too handsome to pretend he doesn't care. And too smart to turn down someone who would entertain or help him. I want him to have the first dance with me."
Corin blinked. "How am I supposed to stop that? Trip him up?"
"Be creative."
Serena kept walking as if she'd just suggested that he has to buy bread. He walked after her, the logbook still pressed to his side.
"So... death zones. You said you'd help me anyway?"
"If you're asking me for soemthing specific, you'll be disappointed," she said quietly. "Most with any real knowledge of these areas are dead. Or insane."
"Great."
"But some families collect reports. Especially the Callaveins, Everharts or even the Virlellis. They've sent people into death zones more than once and not all of them have died."
Corin faltered in his movement. "The Virellis?"
"You sound surprised."
"I didn't know they did that."
Serena stopped. "You should listen more. They don't seem like it, but... they fight differently. More strategic. And they're willing to risk what the nobility would rather hide."
She started moving again. "So if you want real knowledge, not just from books, then you need someone who's been there. Or someone who has spoken to some of these families."
Corin fell silent. For a moment, he thought of Viviana, of the things she had never told him.
After their shift ended Serena sat at one of the tables in the grand library. Her gaze didn't wander over the paper, but through it, as if she could see whole regions burning in her mind.
"I kind of understand how death zones can change," Corin murmured, "but not why. Why do these lines split? Why do they... Are they reacting to people like us?"
"It's not a reaction. It's a resistance," Serena replied. She held out her hand, pointing to a spot on the map south of Thalassar. "This zone? The royal family sent an escort there probably more than once. No one returned. No message, no path signal. Just... Silence."
"And you're telling me this is normal?"
Serena folded her hands. "There's a theory in Atrenor. The more control we gain over our own Blessing, the more the Zones sense us. As if they were searching for something."
Corin rubbed his forehead, jotting something down. Then he sighed.
"You know who really knows about this? I mean... Really? Not on paper."
"People like Nomen or Florence Everhart if you know her," Serena said immediately. "She's one of the few students who's done field reports outside of the academy. I suspect her family sends her there on purpose."
"I will tink about it," Corin murmured.
Serena smiled gently. "Then do it faster."
Right in that moment Serenas Badge began to vibrate.
"An emergency?" Corin was not really suprised. The entire day had been to calm.
"We should head to the Headquarters."
When Corin and Serena entered the committee meeting room, the room was already filled with voices, sharp stares, and the leaden tension of a place where silence had been too long. Only Cearen's seat remained empty, he was outside, tending to the remnants of the incident. The walls of dark stone, lined with curtained spell seals, threw back the faint light of the lamps in a dull glow.
Riven was not sitting, but standing, a fine trail of blood on his sleeve. His eyes flickered.
"Two seriously injured. No clear trigger. And again... no control. How many more times?"
"Calm down, Riven," Serena began, her voice calm as always, but more cautious than usual.
"Calm down?", Riven continued, "The third week, Serena. The third bloody week. And it's still escalating. They're tearing each other into the ground for no reason, no purpose. We're losing our grip and you want to argue?"
Corin stepped aside, leaning against the cool brickwork. The chain on his glasses clinked softly. He said nothing.
This was going to become interesting really fast.