Chapter 11: Night Beneath the Stars
As the day moved on from our conversation, now with Caelen and Rowan both coming to stargaze. I couldn't help but feel something, not anger, I just cast it aside as nothing.
As I walked though the hallways I heard a familiar voice call for me, "Feyri! Wait up!" It was Octavius. I stop my walking and allow him to catch him to me.
"Octavius," I greet with a nod of my head. "How are you?" He returned, How am I? I had to think. " . . . I'm content" I said after a long pause. He nods, "Good, good."
The silence that follows is unnervingly uncomfortable. "Feyri? Can wards be broken, not just paralyzed, but broken, unusable until fixed?" Octavius finally broke the silence.
"Wards being broken? Why would you like to know that? Oh, and I suppose wards can be broken, yes." I ask, my ears twitch. Why did my ears twitching? That hasn't happened in long time.
"I was just going to run some tests on wards, I wanted to hear from the magic expert, since you've been studying magic for so long. Say how old even are you, Feyri? If that's not weird." I don't like how quickly he changed the subject. It made my stomach pit.
Reluctantly I answered his question with, "That isn't something you'd like to know." My ears twitch again. What is this feeling? Dread? "Oh, Cmon, I know you mature slowly, you're an elf, seriously, tell me!"
He's pushy, like Rowan. "Fine, I am 126 years old. My parents are 1,473." I say with almost a sigh. "Woah! 126? You're older than my great grandmother!" He explains proudly, he write something down, I assume its the ward breaking thing he asked earlier.
"That's very reassuring of my age." I say, letting the sarcasm drip just enough to make my point without sounding cruel.
Octavius laughs—too loud for the hallway, too bright for the topic. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that. I just—well, elves live forever, right? Or close to it. I think it's fascinating."
Fascinating.
That word always sits wrong in my stomach. It makes me feel like a specimen pinned under glass.
My ears twitch again. A warning. A whisper of instinct I haven't felt in years.
I fold my arms loosely, trying to appear casual. "Most elves don't live forever. We just… take our time."
Octavius hums thoughtfully, scribbling something else in his notebook. The scratching of his quill echoes too loudly in the corridor. "Still. One hundred twenty-six. That's incredible. You must have seen so much."
"Enough," I answer simply.
He doesn't seem to notice the edge in my tone. Or maybe he does and chooses to ignore it.
"So," he continues, "about the ward-breaking thing—if a ward is broken, does it leave residue? Like magical splintering? Or is it more like… a clean snap?"
I narrow my eyes. "Octavius. Why are you asking me this?"
He freezes for half a heartbeat. "I told you. I'm running tests."
"Tests on what?"
He hesitates. Just a flicker. But I catch it.
"Just… theoretical stuff," he says quickly. "Nothing dangerous."
My ears twitch again. Harder this time. A pulse of instinct runs down my spine.
He's lying.
Or hiding something.
Or both.
I take a slow breath. "Wards don't break cleanly," I say, watching him carefully. "They fracture. Like glass. And the residue can be dangerous if you don't know what you're doing."
Octavius nods, scribbling again. "Right, right. That makes sense."
He's too eager. Too focused. And the way he keeps glancing at me between notes—like he's studying me instead of the information—makes my skin prickle.
I shift my weight. "Octavius, if you're experimenting with wards, you should tell an instructor. Or at least someone who knows how to contain the backlash."
He waves a hand. "Oh, it's nothing serious. Just curiosity."
Curiosity.
Another word that sits wrong.
I exhale slowly. "Be careful. Wards aren't toys."
He smiles. "I know. That's why I asked you."
I don't respond. I don't trust myself to.
We walk together down the hallway, though I keep a deliberate distance. The air feels heavier than before, like the walls are listening. Or maybe it's just my nerves. My instincts haven't been this loud in years—not since the hollows.
"So," Octavius says after a moment, "are you doing anything tonight?"
My steps falter. "Yes."
"Oh?" He tilts his head. "What's the plan?"
I hesitate. Not because it's a secret—Selene, Jori, Caelen, and Rowan all know—but because something about Octavius's sudden interest feels… sharp.
"I'm going stargazing," I say finally. "With friends."
His eyebrows lift. "Friends? That's great! Who?"
"Selene. Jori. Caelen. Rowan."
Octavius blinks. "Rowan? The runner?"
I nod. "Yes."
He hums, tapping his quill against his notebook. "Didn't know you two were close."
"We're not," I say quickly. "We're just… friends."
Octavius's smile twitches. "Right. Friends."
I don't like the way he says it. Like he's testing the word. Tasting it.
We reach the end of the hallway, where the sunlight spills through tall windows and paints the floor in warm gold. Students pass by in clusters, laughing, chatting, carrying books and charms. The academy feels alive, humming with energy.
But Octavius feels… off.
He closes his notebook with a soft snap. "Well, I hope you have fun tonight. Stargazing sounds nice."
"It will be," I say, though my voice is quieter than I intend.
He shifts his weight, looking like he wants to say something else. Something heavier. But instead he just smiles—too wide, too bright—and steps back.
"I'll see you later, Feyri."
I nod. "Goodbye, Octavius."
He turns and walks away, disappearing into the flow of students. I watch him go, my ears still twitching, my stomach still knotted.
Something is wrong.
I can feel it.
Like a ward humming before it shatters.
I take a steadying breath and turn toward the courtyard. The air outside is cooler, cleaner. I let it wash over me, grounding me. The sky is a soft blue, streaked with thin clouds. Tonight, those clouds will clear, revealing the meteor shower.
Selene and Jori will bring blankets and biscuits. Caelen will bring his telescope. Rowan will show up late, probably out of breath, pretending he didn't run the whole way.
A small smile tugs at my lips.
Despite everything—despite the shadow figure, despite the whispers, despite the strange dread curling in my chest—I'm looking forward to tonight.
I walk across the courtyard, letting the sun warm my skin. Students lounge on benches, practicing spells or reading. A group of first-years chase each other with harmless illusion sparks. The academy feels normal. Safe.
But my instincts won't quiet.
I reach the fountain and sit on the cool stone edge, dipping my fingers into the water. The ripples distort my reflection—my braid, my pointed ears, my steady eyes.
I whisper to myself, "Calm."
Not a spell. Just a reminder.
The water settles. My heartbeat slows.
I think of Selene's laugh, Jori's bright energy, Caelen's quiet steadiness, Rowan's earnest smile. I think of the dunes, the stars, the meteors streaking across the sky.
Tonight will be good.
Tonight will be peaceful.
Tonight will be—
"Feyri!"
I look up.
Selene and Jori wave from across the courtyard, heading toward me with bright smiles and arms full of supplies.
I stand, brushing off my shorts, and meet them halfway.
"Ready for tonight?" Jori asks, practically bouncing.
"Almost," I say.
Selene tilts her head. "You okay? You look… tense."
I hesitate. Then shake my head. "Just thinking."
"About Rowan?" Jori teases.
"No," I say flatly.
Selene laughs. "Come on. Let's get everything set up before sunset."
I fall into step beside them, letting their warmth pull me forward. Whatever that feeling was—whatever Octavius stirred in me—I'll deal with it later. Tonight belongs to the stars.
The sun hangs low over the academy roofs as Selene, Jori, and I walk across the courtyard. The air is warm, the breeze soft, and the sky already shifting toward the colors of evening. Students drift past us in clusters, laughing, chatting, carrying books or charms. Everything feels normal.
Too normal.
My mind keeps circling back to Octavius — his questions, his notebook, the twitch in my ears that hasn't happened in years. But Selene and Jori walk on either side of me, talking about biscuits and blankets and the meteor shower, blissfully unaware of the knot in my stomach.
"Feyri," Selene says, nudging me gently, "you're quiet."
"I'm always quiet," I reply.
Jori snorts. "Not like this. You look like you're solving a murder in your head."
I force a breath. "Just thinking."
"About tonight?" Selene asks hopefully.
"Yes," I lie.
They accept it without question.
We cross the courtyard and head toward the dormitory wing. Caelen's room is on the second floor, tucked away in the quieter corner of the building. He always says he likes the silence there — fewer footsteps, fewer distractions.
We climb the stairs, the wooden steps creaking softly beneath our boots. Jori knocks on Caelen's door with the back of her knuckles.
"Caelen? You alive in there?"
A muffled sound, then footsteps. The door opens a crack, then fully. Caelen stands there with a half-packed satchel slung over one shoulder and a telescope tripod in his hand.
"Oh," he says, blinking at the three of us. "You're early."
Selene beams. "We wanted to walk with you."
Jori leans around him, peering into his room. "Are you ready?"
Caelen steps aside so we can see. His room is neat — painfully neat. Books stacked by subject, star charts rolled and tied with twine, a small collection of lenses arranged in perfect rows on his desk. His bed is made with military precision.
He picks up the telescope case and hands it to me. "Can you carry this?"
I nod, taking it carefully. "Of course."
He grabs a small pouch of tools and tucks it into his belt. "All right. Let's go."
We head back down the stairs, Caelen locking his door behind him. The four of us walk through the courtyard again, this time toward the east dunes. The sky is deepening into a soft lavender, streaked with gold.
Selene and Jori chatter about the meteor shower — how many streaks they hope to see, whether the dunes will be windy, whether Rowan will show up early or late.
Caelen walks beside me, quiet as always. After a moment, he glances at me. "You seem… tense."
I keep my eyes forward. "I'm fine."
He studies me for a heartbeat longer, then nods. "If you say so."
Selene and Jori don't notice the exchange. They're too busy debating whether Selene's biscuits will survive the walk without crumbling.
We reach the edge of campus, where the stone path gives way to soft sand. The dunes rise ahead of us, tall and golden, the grass whispering in the wind. The sea is a distant hush, a steady rhythm beneath the evening air.
"This is perfect," Selene says, dropping her satchel onto the sand.
Jori spreads out the first blanket, letting it billow before settling. "We should set up before it gets dark."
I kneel and open the telescope case, handing Caelen the pieces one by one. He assembles them with practiced ease, his fingers steady and sure.
Selene pulls out a tin of biscuits and sets it on the blanket. "Still warm," she says proudly.
Jori sniffs the air. "They smell good. That's a miracle."
Selene swats her arm. "They always smell good."
"Not always," Jori mutters.
I take a deep breath and begin placing the warding runes in a circle around our blankets. The wood is cool beneath my fingers, the carved lines humming faintly with stored mana. I press each one into the sand with a small twist, anchoring it.
Caelen watches me work. "Your runes are very precise."
"They have to be," I say.
He nods. "I like that about your magic. It's… intentional."
I don't know how to respond to that, so I focus on the next rune.
Selene and Jori finish laying out the blankets and sit down, legs crossed, leaning into each other as they talk. Their laughter drifts across the dunes, warm and bright.
I place the final rune and stand, brushing sand from my hands. The circle hums softly, a gentle barrier to keep out stray mana currents and insects.
Selene pats the blanket beside her. "Come sit, Feyri."
I hesitate, then lower myself onto the edge of the blanket, keeping my usual distance. The sand is warm beneath me, the air soft and quiet.
Jori lies back, hands behind her head. "This is going to be amazing."
Caelen adjusts the telescope. "The sky should be clear tonight."
Selene sips her tea. "Rowan said he'd come after he finishes his exam."
I exhale. "He'll come."
Jori smirks. "You sound thrilled."
"I'm neutral," I say.
Selene nudges me gently. "You're allowed to enjoy his company."
"I do," I say. "As a friend."
Jori raises an eyebrow. "He definitely wants more than that."
I look away. "That's his problem, not mine."
Caelen glances at me, then back at the telescope. "Boundaries are important."
I meet his eyes briefly. "Yes. They are."
The wind picks up, carrying the scent of the sea. The sky shifts from lavender to deeper blue. The dunes glow softly in the fading light.
Selene pulls out a small lantern crystal and sets it beside the blankets. It glows faintly, casting a warm halo around us. "Just until the stars come out."
Jori stretches. "I'm going to grab more blankets from the dorm. Anyone want anything?"
"More tea," Selene says.
"Another biscuit," Caelen adds.
Jori salutes. "On it."
She jogs off toward the campus, her laughter trailing behind her.
Selene watches her go, then turns to me. "You okay?"
I nod. "Just… thinking."
"About what?" she asks gently.
I hesitate. "Nothing important."
She accepts that without pushing.
Caelen finishes adjusting the telescope and sits beside us. "The first stars should appear soon."
I breathe in the cool air, letting it settle in my chest. "Good."
Selene leans back on her hands. "Tonight feels right. Like we needed this."
I nod. "Yes. We did."
The dunes whisper around us, the runes hum softly beneath the sand, and the sky deepens into twilight.
We're ready.
Almost.
But Rowan hasn't arrived yet.
And the night hasn't begun.
Not yet.
The sky deepens into a velvet blue as Selene, Caelen, and I sit on the blankets, the runes humming faintly beneath the sand. The air cools, brushing against my skin like a whisper. Jori returns with an armful of blankets, breathless and triumphant.
"Extra tea," she announces, dropping a pouch beside Selene. "And more biscuits. And—oh—Rowan's on his way. I passed him on the stairs."
My stomach tightens. Not in fear. Not in dread. Something else. Something I don't want to name.
Selene nudges me with her shoulder. "Relax. He's just joining us."
"I am relaxed," I say.
"You're sitting like you're about to duel someone," Jori adds.
I glance down. My posture is rigid, back straight, shoulders tense. I force myself to ease into the blanket, though the tension doesn't leave.
Caelen adjusts the telescope again, humming softly. "The first meteors should appear soon."
Selene pours tea into small cups. "Perfect timing."
The dunes glow faintly in the lantern crystal's warm light. The sea murmurs in the distance. Everything feels peaceful.
Too peaceful.
My ears twitch.
Footsteps crunch through the sand behind us.
Rowan.
He jogs up the last dune slope, slightly out of breath, black hair tousled, finished exam scrolls tucked under his arm. His eyes find me instantly—like they always do—and his whole face softens.
"Feyri," he says, smiling. "Hey."
I nod. "Rowan."
Selene and Jori wave. Caelen offers a polite nod.
Rowan sits down—five feet away from me, because he knows better—but close enough that I can feel the warmth of him. He smells faintly of ink and pine resin. He must've been studying under the old trees before his exam.
"You made it," Jori says.
"Yeah," Rowan replies, rubbing the back of his neck. "Didn't want to miss this."
His eyes flick to me again. Too long. Too warm.
I look away.
Selene hands him a cup of tea. "You can relax, you know. No exams out here."
Rowan laughs softly. "I'm trying."
He glances at me again. I pretend not to notice.
The emotional tension settles between us like a second blanket—thin, warm, and impossible to ignore.
Caelen clears his throat. "The stars are coming out."
We all look up.
The sky is shifting—deep blue melting into black, the first stars piercing through like silver needles. A hush falls over us. Even Rowan stops fidgeting.
A streak of light cuts across the sky.
Selene gasps. "There! The first one!"
Another streak. Then another.
The meteor shower begins—slow at first, then building, the sky alive with falling stars. The dunes glow faintly in the starlight, the runes humming in response.
For a moment, everything is perfect.
Then my ears twitch.
Hard.
A cold ripple crawls down my spine.
Something is wrong.
I scan the dunes. The tall grass sways. The sand shifts. The sea murmurs.
And then—
I see it.
A silhouette.
Far off.
Standing on the crest of a dune.
Black.
Still.
Watching.
My breath stops.
The shadow creature.
My body freezes. Every muscle locks. My heart slams against my ribs.
Rowan notices first. "Feyri? What's wrong?"
I don't answer.
Selene follows my gaze. "What… is that?"
Caelen squints. "Is someone out there?"
Jori's voice trembles. "That's not a someone."
"Feyri... That's the creature that scratched your arm right?" Selene said.
"Scratched her arm? Feyri, Caelen, and I saw that at the end of the relay..." Rowan says.
The creature doesn't move. Doesn't breathe. Doesn't blink.
It just watches.
My instincts roar to life—louder than fear, louder than thought.
Before I even realize what I'm doing, I rise to my feet. My hand lifts. My fingers curl into the shape of a finger‑gun—thumb up, index finger pointed straight at the creature.
Rowan stands too. "Feyri—?"
But it's too late.
Mana surges through me.
Raw.
Unfiltered.
Alive.
A bright orange spark ignites at my fingertip.
Selene gasps. "Feyri—what are you—?"
Caelen's eyes widen. "M- Mana!? But she—she uses runes—"
Rowan steps toward me, panic in his voice. "Feyri, wait—!"
I don't wait.
I fire.
A small, blazing orange beam shoots from my fingertip—fast as a bullet, sharp as a blade of light. It streaks across the dunes, illuminating the sand in a flash of fiery glow.
It hits the spot where the creature stands.
For a heartbeat, nothing happens.
Then—
BOOM.
The explosion lights up the dunes in a burst of orange fire and sand. The shockwave ripples through the air, kicking up dust and grass. The blankets flutter. The telescope rattles. Selene screams. Jori grabs her arm. Caelen shields his eyes.
Rowan lunges toward me, grabbing my wrist. "Feyri!"
The explosion fades.
Smoke curls upward.
The dune is scorched black.
But the creature—
Is gone.