The air in the dining hall felt lighter as we finished our meal, the weight of formality replaced by the hum of activity. The strange looking servants cleared plates while gentle chatter filled the space. I rubbed my stomach, still adjusting to the novelty of actual food. How had I survived being fed through needles? I hadn't been living at all.
Aethera pushed back her chair, standing tall with her usual regal posture. She exchanged a look with Ember, "You got this, right?"
"Of course," Ember replied easily, leaning back in his chair.
"I'll have to take my leave now, Jay," Aethera said, her voice low but filled with authority. "I need to attend to a few matters, but Ember will take care of you. You'll be in good hands."
I didn't mind. Aethera had a lot on her plate, and I wasn't about to complain. "Sure," I said with a nod, taking a sip of water from my glass before setting it back down on the table.
"Aethera," Ember said with a smirk, "you're acting like you're leaving her with wolves."
"Hardly," she replied smoothly, then addressed him with a sharper tone. "Take her to the recruits' compound. Ensure everything is in order for her enrollment and accommodations."
Ember gave a respectful nod, "Understood."
Aethera's gaze softened slightly when it landed on me. "Jay," she began, her voice more measured, "I know there's a lot ahead of you but, take it one step at a time, okay? Listen to Ember. He knows what he's doing."
I nodded, unsure how else to respond under her piercing gaze. She lingered for a moment longer, as though weighing her words, then she smiled, "Welcome to the Academy," she said, her words unexpectedly warm. And then she was gone, leaving an behind an almost palpable trail of power.
Ember stood next, stretching slightly as he shot me a crooked smile. "Ready to be paraded through the gauntlet of curious eyes?"
"Not particularly," I muttered, already dreading what was to come.
"Good," he said, clearly unfazed. "Let's go."
The walk to the admissions building was mercifully short, though it didn't feel like it with Ember beside me. His long strides forced me to keep up, and his calm, almost lazy demeanor only irritated me more as I caught glimpses of curious faces watching us through windows and around corners.
When we entered the admissions hall, the chatter dropped instantly, replaced by whispers that crawled across my skin. The recruits milling around were dressed in a mismatched display of fashion: noble silks, court insignias, and simple traveler's garb, all marked by the clear awkwardness of people out of their element.
"That's him," someone hissed from a nearby cluster.
"That is Commander Ember, General Aethera's second. What's he doing here?"
"Who's the girl?"
"Maybe she's some noble's daughter?"
"Not with those rounded ears, she's not "
My jaw clenched as the whispers grew louder. Ember, of course, didn't so much as glance their way, his focus locked on the stern-looking Fae woman seated at one of the central desks.
She straightened as we approached, her quill halting mid-scratch. Her sharp eyes flicked to Ember first, and the faintest widening of her gaze betrayed recognition. It wasn't every day the second-in-command of the General walked into her office.
"Commander Ember," she greeted, her voice crisp. "How can I assist you?"
"She's here to enroll," Ember announced without preamble, gesturing towards me.
The woman blinked, gathering herself. "Of course," she said quickly, setting her quill down and pulling out a thick ledger. Her voice was composed, but her hands moved a little too precisely as she flipped the pages.
"Name?" she asked, finally looking at me.
"Jay," I said, feeling her scrutinizing gaze like a weight on my chest.
"Age?"
I hesitated, the question hitting me like a slap. My mouth opened, then closed, the truth stuck in my throat. "I—" I glanced at Ember, searching for help. "I don't know."
The admin lady's quill froze, her head snapping up with a frown. "You don't know?"
Ember stepped in before the moment could stretch too long. "Just make sure she is registered," he said, his voice firm, brooking no argument. "I'll bring her full information by later."
The woman's gaze darted between the two of us, her curiosity practically vibrating off her. But she nodded, albeit reluctantly, and began jotting down notes in the ledger.
"Temporary stamp," she said curtly, gesturing for my hand. I extended it, wincing as she pressed a glowing sigil to the back of my palm.
The mark burned briefly, hot as a branding iron, leaving an intricate design that looked like it had been etched into my skin with magic.
It was the emblem of the Academy. A stylized, geometric design—sharp lines forming an angular, interlocking star in the center of my hand. Radiating outward from it were curved, flowing lines, like vines twisting in an elegant but deliberate pattern, wrapping around the star's points and creating a circular boundary. At the outer edges, the design branched out into smaller, symmetrical runes that seemed to pulse faintly with power. The sigil had an almost metallic sheen when it first appeared, the golden glow intensifying before fading into a subtle outline, leaving the mark like a tattoo—delicate but undeniable—across the back of my hand.
"The stamp on your hand is temporary," she explained, nodding at the glowing emblem now etched onto my skin. "It marks you as a Warrior-in-training of the Elite Academy. Should you fail to pass the training, it will be revoked and you will be sent home."
Home.... as if I had one.
"You'll find a set of uniforms—training gear, casual wear, foot wear and formal attire—in this bundle," she said, handing me a neatly folded stack. Her eyes flicked to Ember again, her lips pursed. "As per standard procedure, I will assign you to a shared quarters—"
"That won't be necessary," Ember interrupted smoothly. "Her accommodations are already arranged."
The woman blinked, clearly startled. She hesitated, then nodded. "Very well."
The air in the room shifted as whispers spread like wildfire. Recruits gathered nearby started murmuring, their voices a mix of curiosity and disbelief.
"Who is she?"
"Why does she get her own room?"
"Special treatment already? She must be someone important…"
I clutched the uniforms tighter, my cheeks burning. Ember, on the other hand, didn't seem remotely fazed, his calm confidence a shield I could only envy.
The admin lady, clearly torn between curiosity and professionalism, gave a stiff nod. "Fine. Everything else is in the bundle. The Academy rules, and necessary supplies. Ensure she follows protocol, Commander."
"She will," Ember said, then glanced down at me. "Let's go."
I trailed after him, the whispers growing quieter but no less intense as we left the office. "So, is this normal for you?" I asked once we were outside, my voice low.
He glanced over, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. "You'll get used to it. Let's go see your room."
The dormitory was quite a ways from the admissions building. By the time we left the admissions building and headed there, the sun was already starting to sink lower in the sky, no longer blazing overhead like in the height of the afternoon but not quite dipping into evening shadows either. The light had softened, painting the academy grounds in hues of amber and gold, with the faint promise of dusk lingering at the edges.
As we walked, the towering dormitory came into view. It was across the courtyard from the dining hall. A large, multi-story stone building with ivy climbing up its stone walls and arched windows that reflected the fading light. The sheer size of it made my stomach twist. Inside, the lower level was a sprawling common area packed with mismatched furniture and recruits lounging in small groups. The air was filled with laughter, hushed conversations, and the occasional glance in our direction.
"They'll get over it," Ember said quietly as we began ascending the staircase.
I didn't respond. The sound of our boots against the stone steps echoed as we climbed higher and higher.
By the time we reached the top floor—the tower—I was out of breath. Ember, of course, looked as though he'd barely exerted himself. He pushed open the door, revealing the space inside.
I step into the room, and the first thing that hits me is the light. It spills through three massive windows, bathing everything in warmth. The floor beneath me glistens, the sunlight making the polished wood gleam, and I can't help but take a deep breath, feeling the air shift around me. I don't have to check to know that it smells fresh—clean, like something untouched and new. I feel like I could spend hours just standing here, watching the light change as the day goes on.
The room's not huge, but it's open, like it doesn't want to make me feel boxed in. There's space to move, to breathe. It's not cluttered, just a simple bed, a desk, a dresser, a sitting area tucked neatly off to the side. Nothing feels excessive, but there's care in how it's all been arranged.
But then, my eyes are drawn to the balcony. I hadn't even noticed it at first, hidden by the way the room flows, but now that I see it, I'm not sure how I ever missed it. The doors leading out to it are open just enough, the breeze pushing in like an invitation. I take a step toward it, dropping my bundle onto the desk. It's the view that pulls me in—the way the world outside stretches wide, endless. The sky is impossibly blue, the trees a vibrant green against the horizon. It's the kind of view you don't get tired of, the kind that makes you feel small in the best way.
I let out a slow exhale, the kind I didn't realize I was holding. This is... perfect. It's exactly what I needed.
Ember did this. Aethera asked him to prepare it for me, and I'm struck by how much care went into every detail. It feels like a gift—something I can call my own without the shadows of the past lingering in the corners.
My fingers brush the frame of the balcony door, and for a moment, I feel a strange mix of gratitude and awe. I don't have to force myself to feel comfortable here. There's nothing that screams "wrong" or "unsafe." It's like stepping into a different world, a world I didn't think I could have.
"So... what do you think? This was a storage room," Ember explained, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "It's been cleared out for you."
I turned back to him, taking in the way he shifted on his feet, his usual confident and carefree demeanor softened by uncertainty. He'd done this for me. Not just him—Aethera had been involved too—but it was his time, his thoughts, that made this space what it was now. My space. The weight of it hit me all over again, and before I even thought about it, I moved.
Spinning on my heels, I launched myself into his arms. Ember staggered slightly, clearly caught off guard, but he didn't drop me. My arms wrapped around his neck, my face pressed into his shoulder as tears blurred my vision.
He stiffened under the sudden contact, his breath hitching in surprise, but a moment later, his arms came up awkwardly, patting my back. His hesitation made me laugh through the tears, a strangled sound that was half-choked with emotion.
"Thank you so much," I whispered, my voice thick and uneven. I was clinging to him like a lifeline, and for once, I didn't care how it looked or what it might mean. "This is... it's perfect. I don't know how to—" My words broke off as a fresh wave of emotion hit, and I buried my face deeper into his shoulder.
Ember sighed, a low sound that might've been exasperation if it weren't so soft. His hand stilled on my back for a moment before he gave me a single, firm squeeze. "It's just a room," he muttered, but there was something unsteady in his voice, like maybe even he didn't believe it.
I pulled back just enough to look at him, my cheeks streaked with tears, my lips trembling with a smile I couldn't hold back. "No, it's not," I said, shaking my head. "It's not just a room. You made it... safe. You thought about what I needed."
His ember eyes flickered down to meet mine, the corners of his mouth tugging into something that wasn't quite a smirk, wasn't quite a smile. "Well, don't get used to me being thoughtful," he said, trying to play it off, but his voice was softer than usual. "This was a one-time thing."
I laughed again, the sound lighter this time, and punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Sure, Ember. Whatever you say."
For a moment, we just stood there, the sunlight from the windows warming the space around us, filling it with a golden glow. It felt like the room itself was holding us, keeping us in this moment. I didn't let go completely, not yet. Instead, I rested my forehead against his chest, letting myself breathe it all in—the light, the air, the feeling of gratitude so overwhelming it was almost suffocating.
"Seriously," I murmured, my voice steadier now, "thank you. For everything."
Ember's arms tightened around me briefly before he pulled back, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but at me. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, stepping back like he was afraid I'd cling to him again. "Don't go making this weird."
I smiled, wiping at my tears with the back of my hand as I watched him retreat to the doorway. But he paused there, glancing back at me with that ever-present glint of mischief in his eyes. He winked, "You should probably thank the brownies too when you see them again. I just gave them my vision. They were the ones who did the hard work."
I gasped, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You said you would point them out when you saw them!"
"Oops," he said with an exaggerated shrug, a stupid grin plastered on his face. "You've seen them already. I thought you'd figure it out by now."
"Ugh, you're so annoying," I groaned, throwing a pillow in his direction, which he dodged effortlessly with a laugh.
He chuckled as he leaned casually against the doorframe. "Get settled. I'll come pick you up later for dinner." Then, just as he turned to leave, he paused, his voice dropping into something softer, almost vulnerable. "I'm glad you like it."
The sincerity in his tone caught me off guard, and for a moment, I couldn't respond. He didn't wait for an answer, disappearing down the hallway with the sound of his light footsteps fading into the distance.
I stood there in the quiet, the fading sunlight streaming through the windows and bathing the room in a golden glow. My gaze wandered over the space once more, taking in every thoughtful detail, every touch that spoke of care and intention.
The sunlight warmed my skin, but more than that, it felt like it was starting to warm something deeper—something I thought had long been cold. My heart felt just a little less fractured, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, this could be a place where I could heal.