I texted Ezzy that I was walking to school today.
I needed to clear my head.
Slipping my earbuds in, I scrolled through my iPod until I landed on "Can You Feel My Heart" by Bring Me the Horizon. The pounding beat, the aching lyrics, it all matched the storm inside me too well. As I walked, the song filled my ears, the words pressing into my chest.
"I'm scared to get close, but I hate being alone..."
Yeah. That hit home.
The rest of the playlist followed suit, dark melodies fueling the restless thoughts swirling in my mind. Last night was a mess. The Council. The attack. The symbols. Riven walking away without a word.
That last part? That was really pissing me off.
When I reached the school parking lot, the first thing I saw was him.
Riven.
Leaning casually against Zion's car, talking with him and Jax like he didn't just vanish after the ballroom got invaded by shadowy figures.
I didn't hesitate. I marched straight toward him, stopping directly in his line of sight.
"Can I talk to you?"
He barely blinked. "You're talking to me already... so?"
Zion and Jax exchanged looks before backing off, but not before Zion shot me a subtle warning glance, like he knew exactly where this was headed.
I crossed my arms, my voice sharp. "So you just disappeared without a word yesterday? No goodbyes, nothing?"
Riven's gaze didn't waver. "I had some things to handle."
I scoffed. "And what was so urgent that it couldn't wait?"
His expression cooled. "None of your business."
That hit a nerve.
I let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Really? You're gonna hit me with that? Some intruders mysteriously crash Lara's birthday party, and you, new transfer, big mystery, just so happen to disappear right after? That's not suspicious to you?"
Riven's jaw tensed. "Are you saying I invited them?"
"I didn't say that," I shot back.
"Didn't you?" His voice dipped lower, sharp with accusation. "Because it damn well sounds like you're implying that."
I stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "Stop putting words in my mouth. I'm just saying your timing is..."
"Suspicious?" Riven finished for me, his voice laced with mock amusement. "Right. Because I'm the only suspicious thing around here."
Something in his expression shifted. The tension in his shoulders hardened into something colder.
And then, he went for the kill.
"You want to talk about suspicious?" Riven's lips curled into a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. "Why aren't you at the Elite school?"
The air in my lungs froze.
"You live in the city, right? You're Lara Veyne's 'cousin.' Shouldn't you be at Arcanis with the rest of the highborns?"
I felt every word like a blade to my ribs.
"Or is there a reason you don't belong there?"
The meaning hit me. The implication.
I clenched my fists, but my voice was quieter now. "You're out of line."
"Am I?" Riven tilted his head, eyes glinting with something unreadable. "Because for someone who's so damn eager to point fingers, you sure don't like when they point back at you."
I opened my mouth, to what, I didn't know. Defend myself? Snap back? Tell him to go to hell?
But he wasn't finished.
Riven's smirk twisted into something sharper, something cruel. "And while we're at it, try to find a shred of decency and quit eyeing me desperately every time you see me. It's not flattering, it's creepy."
I inhaled sharply, caught off guard by the sheer bite in his tone.
But he wasn't done.
His gaze flickered over me, slow and deliberate, before he let out a scoff. "Just so you know, I agreed to be your stupid date out of pity." His voice was quieter now, but each word landed like a dagger. "Didn't want you to look even more pathetic in front of your friends. So, don't think for a second I owe you anything."
The breath left my lungs.
For a second, I could do nothing but stand there, frozen in place, as his words sank in like venom.
Pity.
That's what this was to him? That's all I was?
I swallowed against the sting crawling up my throat, but it did nothing to stop the heat rising to my face.
"Wow." My voice came out quiet and flat, not because I wasn't angry, but because if I let any more emotion slip, I might break.
Riven didn't flinch. Didn't blink.
Didn't care.
"I mean, I get it," he continued, shrugging. "You don't really fit in with them, do you? Not quite elite enough for Lysoria, not quite ordinary enough for Lowmere. Stuck in-between, trying to act like it doesn't bother you."
That one hit deep.
I felt it like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from my lungs.
Because he wasn't wrong. And he knew it.
I clenched my fists at my sides, forcing my expression into something neutral, something unbothered, even if my heart was slamming against my ribs.
"You're an ass," I said, voice as cold as I could make it.
Riven just let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "And you're predictable."
Then, he turned and walked away.
No hesitation. No second glance.
Just left me there, standing in the middle of the parking lot - Exposed.
Furious.
Hurt.
I hated myself more in that second, for the lone tear that slipped down my cheek.
I wiped it away quickly, blinking back the rest that threatened to follow.
No. Not here. Not now.
I inhaled sharply, forcing my breathing to steady, ignoring the lingering stares and whispers from the students who had witnessed the exchange. The parking lot still buzzed with the aftermath of my confrontation with Riven, but I refused to let it cling to me any longer.
With a practiced ease, I shook myself mentally, straightened my shoulders, and pasted on a smile before heading toward Jade and Ezzy, who were waiting near the entrance.
Jade arched a brow the moment she saw me. "Okay, spill. What was that back there?"
Ezzy glanced at me, concern evident in her warm brown eyes. "And how's Lara? Is she okay after everything that went down?"
I exhaled, falling into the motions of pretending nothing was wrong.
"She's alright," I said, my voice smooth, even. "Shaken, but we talked last night. She's trying to move past it."
Jade narrowed her eyes slightly, as if sensing I was skating around something. But thankfully, she let it drop.
I was grateful when the bell rang, signaling the start of first period.
Runic Language.
A class where I didn't have to pretend.
I parted ways with Jade and Ezzy, grateful for the temporary reprieve.
I stepped into the dimly lit Runic Language classroom, already feeling the weight of ancient knowledge in the air. The stone walls were etched with faded inscriptions, their magic long dormant, and the scent of aged parchment and burning sage hung thick.
The room had always been a sanctuary for me: silent, methodical, unchanging.
But today…
Today, something was different.
Ms. Amara was waiting at the front, her piercing blue eyes scanning the class as we took our seats. The flickering candlelight cast shifting shadows over her sharp features, making her appear more mystic than mortal.
She never wasted time with small talk.
"Magic is language," she began, her voice smooth but firm, a commanding presence in itself. "And language is power."
She paced slowly, trailing her fingers over a bookstand where ancient scrolls lay bound in enchanted thread. "Runes are not just symbols. They are the first whispers of magic. Before there were spells, before there were wands or staffs, there were runes, etched into stone, carved into skin, breathed into existence by those who wielded true power."
I leaned forward, drawn in despite myself.
She gestured with a flick of her wrist, and a faintly glowing parchment floated from her desk. "Each of you will be given a rune to interact with. You will attempt to feel its energy, decipher its intent."
I swallowed as she moved down the aisle, placing a unique rune in front of each student.
When she reached me, she hesitated.
Then, with deliberate precision, she set down my parchment.
I frowned. The rune before me was… different.
The ink seemed alive. The jagged edges twisted, rearranged, almost like it was trying to form a pattern I couldn't quite grasp.
I reached for it.
The moment my fingers touched the parchment, I heard a voice.
No, many voices.
Low, layered, speaking in a tongue I didn't understand but somehow felt familiar.
The air around me shifted.
Suddenly, the classroom was distant, muffled like I was submerged underwater.
The whispers grew louder, urgent, desperate.
It wasn't just sound.
It was something trying to reach me.
My vision blurred, the symbols on the parchment glowing, warping, pulling me in.
"Athena."
Ms. Amara's voice shattered the trance.
I gasped, sucking in a sharp breath as the room snapped back into focus. The murmurs of my classmates returned, the weight of reality slamming into me like a cold wave.
My fingers trembled as I pulled my hand away from the parchment.
Ms. Amara stood beside me now, watching carefully.
"What… was that?" I asked, my voice uneven.
Her gaze darkened slightly. "That was the Ancient Rune."
The class went silent.
She continued, "Certain runes are more than mere symbols. They are conduits. Echoes of the past, reaching across time to be heard. Sometimes, when a being has unfinished business, they choose someone to deliver their message."
My stomach twisted. "And they… chose me?"
Ms. Amara studied me. "It seems so."
She lifted her hand, and the rune rose from the parchment, glowing with a faint, silvery light before it began to shift, drifting, twisting midair like it had a mind of its own.
Before I could react, it sank into my skin.
A sharp, cold sensation shot through my forearm, like ice melting directly into my veins. I sucked in a breath as the rune etched itself onto my skin, deep obsidian ink shimmering like liquid stardust against my flesh.
Alive. Pulsing.
A shiver danced down my spine as I traced the intricate symbol with my fingertips, feeling the strange energy humming beneath the surface.
Ms. Amara watched me carefully, her expression unreadable.
"That rune is yours to keep," she said, her voice lower now, more solemn. "It has chosen you, Athena. You must be attentive to the messages it communicates to you."
Chosen me.
The words sent a shudder through me.
I lifted my gaze to hers, searching for answers in her sharp blue eyes.
"This rune…" she continued, her tone almost reverent, "has been dormant since the Great Rift War. No one has wielded its power for a long time."
The Great Rift War.
The very war that had altered the balance of magic itself. The war that had left scars across the realms. The war that had erased an entire race of magic-wielders.
And now, somehow, a piece of it had resurfaced, through me.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears.
I barely noticed as the bell rang, signaling the end of class.
Ms. Amara's gaze lingered on me as she stepped back, folding her arms. "If you have questions, come to me."
I nodded absently, still entranced by the rune now inked onto my arm.
As I packed up my things, I could feel the curious glances of my classmates burning into me, silent but obvious. Some of them leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of my forearm.
I quickly yanked my sleeve down and hurried out of there, my pulse still uneven.
I needed to clear my head.
I needed space.
And my next class, History, was the last place I wanted to be.
But I had no choice.
With a deep breath, I straightened my shoulders and stepped into the hallway, making my way toward the dreadful class.