The training hall was emptying out, students filtering toward the exits in twos and threes, still murmuring about the duels. The air buzzed with lingering energy—excitement, frustration, and quiet reassessments of who stood where in the Academy's unspoken hierarchy of strength.
Ren adjusted the strap of his bag, keeping his pace steady. The duel had gone well—not perfect, but well enough that he hadn't drawn unnecessary attention. Or so he thought.
"You didn't win by accident."
The voice was sharp, but not unfriendly.
Ren didn't startle, though he wanted to. Instead, he slowed his steps just enough to make it look intentional.
Kara Dain stood beside a nearby pillar, arms crossed, her gray eyes studying him—not just watching, studying.
Ren exhaled. So much for avoiding suspicion.
He kept his expression neutral. "I never said I did."
Kara pushed off the pillar, walking toward him at a measured pace. She wasn't being aggressive. If anything, she looked intrigued.
"I watched your match."
Ren smirked. "So did half the class."
She ignored the joke. "You moved too well."
His pulse ticked up, but outwardly, he just raised a brow. "You'll have to be more specific. I dodged, I attacked, I won. That's how duels work."
Kara tilted her head slightly, gaze sharp. "That's not what I mean."
She stopped a few feet away, close enough that Ren caught the faintest trace of lavender and parchment—like ink on old pages.
"You didn't just react to Jorrik's attacks," she said. "You were exactly where you needed to be, every time. You didn't just avoid his weaving, you made it miss without disrupting the Loom."
Ren forced a casual shrug. "Sounds like good instincts to me."
Kara's lips pressed into a line. She wasn't buying it.
"You're good at hiding," she said, her voice quieter now. "You watch, you copy, you adapt—but you don't act like someone trained in the Academy."
Ren hesitated for half a second before smirking. "Maybe I'm just naturally talented."
Kara huffed a short breath—something between amusement and exasperation. "That would be convenient."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The training hall had almost emptied now, only a few lingering students still talking in the distance. The soft glow of woven lanterns flickered against the smooth stone walls, casting long shadows.
Ren expected her to keep pressing. To keep trying to unravel him.
But then—Kara surprised him.
"I don't know what you're hiding," she admitted, crossing her arms again. "But I don't think you're dangerous."
Ren raised a brow. "That's good to hear?"
Kara shrugged. "For now."
There was something in her tone—not a threat, not a warning. Just a quiet curiosity.
That should have made him uneasy.
Instead, it almost felt like a challenge.
A test of trust neither of them was ready to acknowledge.
She was interested. Not just in his fighting style, but in him.
Ren hadn't expected that.
He wasn't sure how he felt about it.
Instead of heading straight back to his dorm, Ren wandered through the Academy corridors, his feet moving on instinct.
He needed a place to think.
The Academy library wasn't empty, even this late. A few students sat hunched over books, weaving small golden strands into their notes as they studied.
Ren ignored them, moving past the towering shelves until he found a quiet corner, tucked between ancient volumes on Weaving fundamentals and obscure historical texts.
He exhaled, sitting against the cool stone wall, pressing his hands to his face.
What was he doing?
This entire time, he had kept his head down, avoided forming any real connections. The goal had always been survival.
So why had he talked to Kara like that?
Why did it feel like something had shifted between them?
He traced his fingers along the invisible threads beneath his skin, feeling the faint pulse of his own altered Loom-threads.
Something was changing.
He wasn't sure what.
A faint sound—barely audible.
Ren's body tensed.
Someone was watching him.
His head snapped toward the end of the bookshelf row. Nothing.
The usual rule of the Academy: if you noticed someone watching you, it meant they wanted to be seen. The real threats never let you catch them.
But this presence felt different.
Not a teacher. Not a rival student.
Something else.
The Loom around him trembled, just slightly, before settling again.
Ren exhaled, pushing himself up. Whoever it was, they weren't making a move tonight.
But now he knew.
As he made his way back to the dorms, Ren caught a glimpse of silver.
Kara was standing near one of the large training hall windows, the moonlight casting a soft glow against the fabric of her robes.
For a moment, she didn't seem to notice him.
Her arms were crossed, gaze distant, lost in thought.
Ren almost kept walking.
Then—she turned, and their eyes met.
It wasn't hostile.
Just… curiosity.
And something else he couldn't quite name.
She studied him for a beat longer than necessary. Then, without a word, she turned back toward the window.
Ren exhaled, continuing on his way.
Maybe he was overthinking things.
Or maybe—Kara Dain was going to be more of a problem than he thought.