It had been three days since they'd left—three long, silent days.
"Still no updates… nothing." The headmaster paced, voice tight with anxiety. "I don't know if they're alive or dead. I should have sent someone after them."
"Please calm yourself, Headmaster," Cael said, unbothered, sipping his tea as though this were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "I'm certain they'll be back soon. Knowing Cecilia, the mission should already be completed."
The headmaster stopped pacing. "And how," he asked sharply, "do you know that, Instructor Cael? Do you perhaps know something that I am unaware of?"
Cael didn't look up from his cup. "My apologies, Headmaster. But that is something I cannot share unless Cecilia gives her permission."
The headmaster's expression darkened. Even after spending a year with her… I still know nothing. Her past, her story—everything is hidden behind shadows.
"At least one of you has the common sense not to dig into someone else's past."
Both men froze. My voice cut through the air a second before the space warped, I had teleported us straight into the room.
"Cecilia, Cassian, Vivian—you're back already," Damian said, relief flooding his face the moment he saw us.
"Here's your culprit."
I dropped a heavy sack onto the floor with a damp thud, the carpet smeared with dried and fresh blood alike. "It took a little longer than expected, but we completed the mission."
Damian exhaled, shoulders easing as if a weight had lifted.
Cael, on the other hand, did not look relieved, only deeply scrutinizing.
"Cassian, Vivian," Cael said, tone firm. "Why don't you two go back to your dorms and rest. You've done well."
They nodded, but Vivian hesitated.
"What about Cecilia?" she asked quietly.
"She's staying," Cael replied. "We still have much to discuss regarding her behaviour—behaviour which she seems determined not to change."
Vivian looked at me, torn. Cassian lingered for half a second.
But eventually, reluctantly, they left.
The door closed behind them with a soft click, leaving only the adults and me.
The room fell silent once Cassian and Vivian's footsteps faded down the hall.
Damian opened his mouth to speak, probably to welcome us properly, but Cael stepped in first, voice like a blade.
"Sit."
I didn't. I crossed my arms instead.
Cael's jaw twitched. "Cecilia. Sit."
I lazily dropped into a chair, crossing one leg over the other. "Better?"
"No," Cael snapped. "Not even close."
Damian glanced between us, already knowing this was going to escalate, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
"Cecilia," Cael said, tone calm in the way that warned a storm was coming, "how long are you going to act like this?"
I didn't bother hiding the boredom on my face. "I have no idea what you think you're implying."
His eyes narrowed. "Don't play dumb. I can see it plainly—on Cassian and Vivian's faces. Exhaustion, fear, the way their shoulders were stiff when they looked at you. I know exactly what you did… and what you made them do." His voice sharpened. "You do understand they are nothing like you."
I met his gaze without flinching. "So what? That doesn't mean they should be shielded from the reality of this world. Coddling them helps no one."
Cael stepped closer, voice firm with a frustration I'd heard many times before. "This isn't about coddling. This is about not crushing them before they even learn how to stand."
I scoffed lightly. "If a little blood and truth crushes them, then they shouldn't be out there at all."
"Cecilia." His voice dropped low, steady, and cold. "You're not being a teacher. You're recreating the war. And they're the ones paying for it."
"You cannot treat Cassian and Vivian the same way you treated your subordinates during the war."
I raised an eyebrow. "Why not? It worked back then."
"This is not the battlefield!" Cael barked.
I shrugged. "Danger doesn't care about locations."
Cael stepped forward, his voice dropping low, his frustration raw. "You pushed them into a situation they weren't prepared for. I know you threatened to abandon them, didn't you? You made them fight trained knights! And don't you dare pretend you didn't enjoy half of it."
I didn't answer.
Because he wasn't wrong.
Damian tried to ease the situation from escalating much farther. "Cecilia, Cael has a point. They're still students. Young ones. They're not soldiers—"
"I know exactly what they are," I said. "And that's why I had to do what I did."
Cael stared at me as we went back to the past. "No. You don't know. That's the problem. You fight like someone who never left the war. You teach like someone who expects everyone to survive brutality because you did."
My jaw tightened.
Cael pressed his palms to the table, leaning in. "You have to stop treating them like disposable units."
"I never treated my subordinates as disposable."
"You treated yourself as disposable, and they followed that example." His eyes locked onto mine. "And now Cassian and Vivian are following it too."
That… hit harder than I wanted it to.
I turned away, but Cael wasn't finished.
"You trained warriors who had nothing left to lose. Who volunteered for death if necessary. Cassian and Vivian are not that. They are children with futures, families, hopes, things your unit didn't had."
Silence coiled between us, thick and sharp.
Damian rubbed his forehead, watching helplessly, as if this entire conversation was a storm he had no power to calm.
Cael exhaled slowly, voice softening but still firm. "If you keep treating them this way… you'll break them or worse you'll push them away."
I didn't respond.
He waited.
Damian waited.
The room held its breath.
Finally, I looked up, my voice colder than winter.
"What I did kept them alive."
Cael shook his head. "For now. But if you keep going like this, the next enemy that kills them… won't be out there." He tapped his chest. "It'll be in here."
"You think I don't know that?" The words tore out harsher than I intended, my voice cracking under the weight of everything I refused to say. "I grew up in a place where every breath was a gamble where death was the only constant. Don't you dare tell me how to act unless you've walked a mile in my shoes, Commander."
I stepped toward the door and pushed it open.
"Cecilia, we're not finished," Cael called after me.
"We are." My tone fell ice-cold, final. The door slammed behind me, rattling the frame.
For a moment, the room was silent.
Cael exhaled slowly, frustration simmering under the surface. "I'm only doing this for her sake," he murmured, sinking into the nearest chair with a heaviness that didn't suit him.
Damian approached cautiously. "Instructor Cael, why don't you sit down and breathe," he said gently. "Then tell me clearly what seems to be the problem."
Cael ran a tired hand through his hair, the tension in his shoulders refusing to ease. "The problem," he began, voice low, "is that Cecilia is still fighting a war that ended years ago."
Damian blinked, surprised by the rawness in Cael's tone.
"She treats Cassian and Vivian the same way she treated the soldiers under her command," Cael continued. "Orders, pressure, brutality. She doesn't understand that those two aren't hardened warriors. They're students. Kids." His jaw tightened. "But in her eyes… they're liabilities unless they can kill."
Damian's expression softened. "She's trying to protect them in the only way she knows."
"That's the problem," Cael murmured. "It's the only way she knows."
He looked toward the door Cecilia had stormed out of, sorrow edging into his voice.
"She grew up in blood. She learned survival through cruelty. Every lesson she gives comes from a place where hesitation meant death. She can't see that these kids aren't built like her."
Damian leaned back, absorbing the weight of Cael's words. "You care for her."
Cael's lips curved in a bitter, resigned smile. "Of course I do. She's… also just a child." He paused. "But she carries her past like a blade against her own throat. And she won't let anyone take it from her."
---
The hallway felt too bright, too clean, too quiet compared to the raging storm in my chest.
Every step was a battle. My hands trembled with anger.
How dare he think he can lecture me?
How dare he pretend he understands?
My boots echoed sharply against the marble floors as I reached the dorm wing. Students passing by shrank back instinctively at the cold radiating from me. I barely noticed.
I pushed open the door of my quarters, shut it behind me, and locked it with a sharp click.
Nox appeared at my side the instant the barrier sealed. "Lia…"
"I don't want to hear it," I muttered, throwing myself onto the bed.
But Nox wasn't listening. He knelt beside me, placing a hand over mine steady, grounding.
"You're shaking."
I swallowed hard. "…I know."
"He isn't your enemy," Nox said softly, eyes searching mine. "You don't have to bare your fangs at everyone."
My throat tightened. "Then why does it feel like the moment I let my guard down, everything, everything I've bled for will disappear?"
Nox squeezed my hand. "Because that's all you've ever known."
The room dimmed around us. My walls, my defences, everything I had built to survive felt like they were crumbling since the day I arrived here… and my own exhaustion.
I curled into myself, silent.
"But don't you think he's right, at least a little?" Nox said gently. "Those two kids… they aren't like you, Lia. Try looking at this from their perspectives. Maybe then you'll understand."
I closed my eyes, frustration bubbling in my chest. "I don't know how to do that, Nox." My voice cracked, quiet but raw. "All my life, it's just been me. Alone. And now suddenly I'm surrounded by these… these little flickering flowers I'm supposed to protect."
I lifted my gaze to him, shame tugging at the edges of my calm. "I know you're saying this for my sake," I murmured, giving him the smallest nod. "I just… don't know how to be anything other than what I am."
Nox's expression softened, the faint glow of his eyes dimming as if to match the fragility of my voice. Slowly, he stepped closer and rested a careful hand atop my head, fingers threading gently through my hair the way he did when I was younger when the world had still felt unforgivable.
"You don't have to know how," he murmured. "Not all at once."
I swallowed hard, staring at the floor as his words seeped into the cracks I tried so hard to hide.
"You've spent your whole life fighting," Nox continued, voice warm and patient. "Surviving. You were never given the chance to learn anything else." He squeezed my cheeks, tilting my face upwards, making me meet his gaze. "But that doesn't mean you can't. You're not alone anymore."
My breath trembled as something tight inside me loosened, just a little.
"It's frightening, isn't it?" Nox said softly. "Letting people in. Caring about them. Realizing you can hurt them by accident just as easily as you protect them on purpose."
A humourless laugh slipped from me. "Terrifying."
"And that's okay." His thumb brushed a stray hair behind my ear before it could fall. "You don't have to change overnight. Just take one step. Talk to them. Try to understand them the way you want them to understand you."
I leaned into his hand without meaning to, something inside me aching at the simple comfort.
"You're not failing, Lia," Nox whispered. "You're just learning. And I'll be here every step, every stumble. Always."
My voice came out barely above a whisper. "Thank you… Nox."
He smiled faintly, thumb brushing my temple. "That's what family is for."
I stayed still for a long moment after Nox's words, letting his hand rest gently on my head. The warmth he offered didn't melt all the ice inside me… but it cracked it enough for something to shift.
"I don't know how to talk to them," I admitted, voice quiet, fragile. "Every time I try, it comes out like an order. Like I'm preparing them for war."
"Because that's all you've ever known," Nox said gently. "But they're not soldiers. They're just children who want to be strong enough to walk beside you."
A tremble ran through my chest.
"Vivian looks up to you more than you realize," he added. "And Cassian… he watches everything you do. You matter to them."
"I don't want to break them," I whispered.
"Then show them the side of you you keep hidden. The one that still feels. The one that's afraid."
Nox's thumb brushed my cheek again. "They won't run."
A long, slow exhale left me as I finally stood, wiping the last trace of moisture from my face.
"Alright," I muttered. "I'll talk to them in the morning."
Nox smiled, "Good."
I paused, "Do you really think I can learn how to do this?"
"Without a doubt," he said softly. "You've survived the worst. Now you just have to learn how to live."
The hallway was too quiet. Dawn hadn't fully broken yet, and the academy's stone walls still held the cold of night. I stood before the first door, fist hovering uncertainly in the air.
This was ridiculous. I had faced beasts, assassins, monsters, yet knocking on someone's door felt like the hardest mission of my life.
I drew in a breath and knocked.
Once. Twice.
The door cracked open, and Vivian peeked through with wide, puffy eyes that had definitely been crying last night.
"…Cecilia?" she whispered.
I swallowed. "We need to talk."
Her eyes opened wider not in fear, but in hope. She nodded quickly and stepped outside. Next was Cassian's door. He opened it almost immediately, as though he had been standing right behind it.
"Cecilia?" His voice was steady, but his shoulders were tense.
"We're talking. All of us," I said.
He didn't question it. He simply followed.
We gathered in the small common room between the dorms. The air was stiff and heavy, thick with all the things unsaid.
I stood before them, hands clasped tightly behind my back so they wouldn't tremble.
"…I wasn't a good teacher," I finally began.
Vivian flinched. Cassian lowered his eyes.
"But I want to fix that," I said, softer than before.
They sat side-by-side, nervous but waiting.
I exhaled slowly, feeling every word scrape out of my chest.
"Let me rephrase what I said earlier…" My voice cracked despite my effort to steady it. "I wasn't a good friend."
Both of them blinked surprised, maybe even stunned.
"I pushed you in ways I shouldn't have," I continued, fingers curling tight at my sides. "I treated you like soldiers instead of people. And because of that… I hurt you both."
The admission burned, but I forced myself to bow my head a gesture I had never given anyone on equal footing.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "For all of it. I hope you can find it in yourselves to forgive me."
Silence stretched for a moment. A painful one.
Then Vivian let out a small, shaky breath.
"We… kinda understand where you were coming from," she said carefully. "We're not mad at you. Not really."
Cassian nodded, though his throat bobbed.
"We know you were trying to protect us. Even if you went about it the wrong way."
They exchanged a glance, then spoke together:
"Still… we'll accept your apology."
Something tight in my chest loosened but only slightly.
Vivian stepped forward, her eyes gentler than I deserved.
"Promise us that from this day forward, you'll help us grow stronger. But only push us when it's absolutely necessary."
"And remember," Cassian added, voice steady but warm, "we're a team. Whether you like it or not."
The smallest, most fragile laugh almost escaped me.
A sound I didn't recognize as my own.
"Yes," I murmured, softer than I've ever spoken to them. "We are."
Strangely enough, the word team didn't feel foreign.
It felt… right.
---
Unbeknownst to us, Cael and Damian stood at the far end of the corridor, half-hidden behind a corner. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but when they heard voices, they lingered.
Cael's expression was unreadable arms crossed, tense, eyes fixed on the three of us.
Damian elbowed him lightly.
"See?" he said with a small, knowing smile. "I told you. It's part of growing up."
Cael didn't respond at first, jaw tight as he watched me bow my head to my students. Something in his eyes softened very slightly.
Damian continued, lowering his voice.
"She'll understand them soon. She just needed time. She has always lived in survival mode… reaching out wouldn't have come naturally to her."
Cael exhaled a slow, conflicted breath.
"Maybe," he admitted. "But she's finally trying. That's more than enough."
Damian smiled. "And that's how you know she's changing."
They quietly stepped away, giving them their moment.
"How about we go out today and celebrate the success of your first mission?" I suggested, letting a small smile tug at my lips. "I heard there's a new café in town."
"That's a great idea!" Vivian said, her eyes lighting up at the thought.
"Let's go this afternoon," I added, glancing between them.
Cassian hesitated, brow furrowed. "But what about our classes?"
I waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. I'll ask the Headmaster for permission when I go to submit the report I couldn't finish yesterday."
I stepped into the Headmaster's office, carrying the folder of documents. Damian's eyes lifted from his work, but I didn't wait for pleasantries.
"Headmaster," I said, setting the folder firmly on the desk. "Here is the report regarding the Baron Darien estate and the situation in his territory."
I opened the folder, flipping through the pages as I spoke, voice steady, detached, almost clinical.
"The Baron's operation was extensive. He has been capturing humans—men, women, and children—and using them for grotesque biological experiments." I paused for effect, letting the words hang. "They were attempting to create chimeras: stitched abominations of living flesh. Several of the subjects were still alive when we discovered them. Many… were already dead. The surviving chimeras displayed residual intelligence, fear, and in one case, recognition."
I looked up briefly, eyes cold and unwavering. "The Baron's knights attempted to intercept us. Twenty were neutralized before they could retreat or regroup. None survived. Their bodies were left where they fell. I did not see any reason to preserve them."
I flipped to another page, detailing the laboratory. "The underground facility was a chamber of mutilation. Equipment designed for torture and transmutation. Traces of blood and tissue are extensive. The Baron appeared fascinated by the results of his creations, despite their suffering. He was captured alive, for interrogation purposes."
I closed the folder and pushed it toward Damian. "All assets recovered. All surviving chimera, aside from the one we utilized for tracking the Baron, were neutralized as the situation deemed appropriate. The Baron was subdued, his operations dismantled, and the remaining staff accounted for."
Damian leaned back, his fingers steepled, absorbing the severity of the report. I stayed silent, my expression unreadable, as though recounting atrocities was no different from reporting the weather.
"That will be all," I said finally, stepping back. "If there are further questions, I'll provide answers directly. But the facts speak for themselves."
"Very well," Damian said, leaning forward, his eyes narrowing. "The Baron was taken in for interrogation by the Imperial Knights. I was told something. Would you care to explain why one of the Baron's arms and a leg were missing?"
That question… I avoided his gaze.
"That was—"
"Was what?" he pressed, his voice sharp.
"I… got carried away," I admitted, voice even but tight. "It's been a long time since I acted like that. I suppose I let myself… indulge a little."
Damian's gaze sharpened further. "And the real Baron? What did you do to him? I was informed that after you three left his estate, he lost consciousness."
"That… I don't know," I said evenly, keeping my tone cold and detached. "I'm innocent in that matter."
"You're telling the the truth?" His eyes flicked to the figure behind me. "Then why does the one behind you look so proud?"
I followed his gaze to Nox, who simply shrugged, a faint, knowing smirk curling at his lips. In that moment, I realised exactly what had happened, and a small grin tugged at my own lips.
To be continued...