Chapter 21 CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
KAEL
I watched intently as she went round and round, eyes sharp, fingers tracing the marks like she was carving the truth into the parchment itself.
“Here,” she said, pointing at a looping stroke on the page, circling it twice, “this is where the mistranslation begins. This changes everything. The author wrote it as if the toxin persists through all stages of preparation. It doesn’t. Properly dried and soaked, the petals lose their harmful properties—”
I leaned forward slightly, masking my reaction. “Assuming your ‘properly’ is the same standard used by trained scholars.”
She didn’t flinch, though maybe her voice was a little too quick, a little too eager. “It is.”
“Confidence without proof is arrogance,”
“I have proof,” she said, dragging a second scroll open with a flourish. Side-by-side rune comparisons, notes in meticulous script, the moonwater notation carefully illustrated…it was all there.
I leaned back, taking in the proofs she’d laid out.
I hadn’t expected her to be right.
Intrigued, maybe.
Amused, certainly.
But right?
That was…unexpected.
I’d called her here for two reasons.
First, because her confidence yesterday had been almost reckless, and I wanted to see whether it would survive direct scrutiny. And the text she claimed was mistranslated?
I wrote it.
Meticulously. Methodically. Perfectly.
Her saying there was an error had crawled under my skin not with irritation, but with curiosity sharp enough to keep me from ignoring it.
I watched her now, silently cataloging the way her mind worked…quick, precise, unafraid. Her hands moved as fast as her thoughts, flipping pages, circling strokes, aligning symbols with methodical clarity. Most first-years would have folded under this pressure. She didn’t even waver.
My fingers tapped once against the table, tracing invisible lines as her explanation unfurled in steady, determined threads. She was right about the looped modifier. Right about the drying process. Right about the rune transition and the cleansing sigil that altered toxin persistence.
Every detail matched. Every claim had proof behind it.
She didn’t notice it but she was dismantling my work line by line.
My translation.
My research.
My pride.
And yet…
annoyance never came.
Only a quiet, unexpected satisfaction.
When she finally paused for a breath, I spoke.
“You have made your point,” I said.
My voice was calm. Controlled.
But inside, something warm flickered.
She wasn’t simply a promising student
She was a challenge.
One I suddenly found myself looking forward to.
“Impressive,” I murmured, though I didn’t look up. “You’ve prepared more thoroughly than I expected.
A flicker of triumph she tried and failed to smother. A strand of her long, chestnut-brown hair had slipped loose during her explanation, brushing across her cheek before she impatiently tucked it back behind her ear.
She was interesting.
I had known that from the moment in the forest…the moment she didn’t break, didn’t falter, didn’t cower like she should have. And now… this. The way she fought with her mind instead of her magic.
It had been years…years.since anyone managed to test me like this.
Since anyone dared.
“So you are admitting the author is wrong?” she asked, voice threading between disbelief and curiosity.
Her bravery was almost reckless.
“Yes,” I said smoothly. “You are right. Your translation is accurate, and the entry will be corrected.”
Her eyes rounded further, brightening like a startled ember.
“Wait…you can’t just change it. We don’t even know the author of the book. Wouldn’t it be—”
“Do not concern yourself with that.” I cut in gently, not unkindly. “I have the authority to amend any text in the Academy’s archives. If a correction is needed, it will be made.”
She blinked, taken aback. “Oh.”
And there…there it was again.
That flicker.
A pulse of unstable magic beneath her skin, subtle but unmistakable, like a candle flame fighting a storm. Most wouldn’t notice it. Most didn’t see past her timid posture and uneven power.
But I did.
I had seen it the moment I laid my eyes on her.
I saw it now, shimmering beneath her steady voice and stubborn composure.
It was the second reason I called her here today.
Something about Aeris Thalorian was…off. Not dangerous. Not yet.
But different.
And I had not figured out why.
Not even close.
My thoughts shifted, awareness suddenly clouding me…
The Dreadspawn.
A sharp pull tugged at the edge of my mind…faint, distant, but unmistakable.
The air inside the library cooled by a single degree, the way it always did when their presence brushed against my wards.
I straightened, gaze drifting past Aeris for a moment.
Through the bond woven into the outer runic lines of the realm, an image flickered behind my eyes:
A stretch of blackened forest.
Charred branches.
Moonlight bent unnaturally.
And moving through it. .
slow, dragging limbs…
skin like cracked stone…
eyes glowing a muted, sickly blue…
Dreadspawn.
Three of them.
Maybe four.
Walking steadily toward the village beyond the ridge. Ilthorn. A quiet settlement with no walls, no guards strong enough to face even one.
My jaw tightened.
They shouldn’t have broken through the ward lines this quickly. Not this far in.
Not today.
Aeris was still speaking…something about the herb context and cognition spells but her voice faded under the low, thrumming hum of the creatures’ presence.
They were getting bolder.
They were getting closer.
And I was the only one stopping them.
Only the Captains knew the truth.
They didn’t know I’d been leaving the Academy every night..every day. They didn’t know I’d been hunting alone to keep them from understanding how desperately the wards were failing.
I couldn’t risk panic.
Not yet.
Not when I still didn’t know what force was pushing the creatures forward… guiding them.
Aeris shifted in her seat, her unstable magic flickering again…soft, almost imperceptible, but enough to pull me back into the moment.
I dragged my eyes to her, grounding myself.
“Are you… all right?” she asked quietly.
She noticed more than I intended.
“I am fine,” I said smoothly. “We are finished here.”
But my gaze drifted once more to the window, to the stretch of forest just beyond the academy grounds.
The Dreadspawn were moving toward Ilthorn.
I needed to get there.
Quickly.
Before anyone else sensed the breach.
Before the villagers became corpses.
I turned from Aeris, cloak brushing the shelves, and left the library without another word. My steps were sharp, deliberate, echoing down the silent hall.
The moment the doors shut behind me, I exhaled once and let the world still.
Time froze.
The flames in the hall torches stopped flickering.
Dust motes hung unmoving in the air.
The academy fell silent…too silent.
Good.
I stepped forward, letting the frozen world bend around me, and with a flick of my wrist, the space before me tore open into a thin, shimmering slit of light.
“Ilthorn,” I commanded under my breath.
The portal obeyed.
One step and I was there.
The village sat under a pale moon, quiet and unaware. But not untouched.
Shapes moved at the edge of the tree line.
The Dreadspawn.
They dragged themselves from the shadows, movements wrong and jerky like puppets with too many strings. Their limbs twisted, spines arched, jaws slack as they lurched toward the first house.
But something was different.
I narrowed my eyes.
I still held time.
The world around us remained frozen.
And yet they kept moving.
My pulse tightened.
This was impossible.
The last time I froze time, the creatures had been locked in place…perfectly still until I ended them one by one.
Now?
They pushed against my hold. Cracked through it.
As if something behind them…something stronger was shoving them forward.
It seemed like they were evolving or someone was forcing them to.
The nearest one jerked toward me, head twisting unnaturally, eyes glowing the faint blue of corrupted magic.
I moved.
My blade…Starbreaker sang free in a single, clean motion. Moonlight slid along its silver edge as I flicked my wrist, sending a sharp arc of magic slicing forward.
The creature’s body split cleanly, collapsing into ash before it hit the ground.
Two more lunged from the right.
I spun, blade flashing, cutting through decayed flesh with swift precision. Their forms disintegrated, leaving only the echo of their deaths in the frozen air.
The third tried to crawl behind me.
I didn’t even turn.
I lifted a hand, letting the magic pool warm and bright in my palm before releasing it.
A controlled burst of white flame erupted beneath the creature—pure sovereign fire.
It shriveled instantly, its body crumpling inward as if its bones turned to dust. The silent scream twisting its jaw faded with the last flicker of flame.
Ash drifted across the frozen ground.
I exhaled and stepped toward one of the fallen ones…the first I’d cut down. Its form was smeared across the dirt like something half-melted. I crouched, gripping Starbreaker loosely as I studied the fragments.
They looked the same as always: warped skin, marrow-like rot, that faint blue shimmer of corrupted magic threading through the remains.
But something felt wrong.
I pressed two fingers to the ash pile, letting a thin ribbon of magic trace through it.
Nothing.
No trail.
No hint of what pushed them through my temporal hold.
Just…emptiness.
I rose to stand and a whisper of movement behind me made every muscle lock.
Claws scraped against my back…Sharp and Fast.
I spun just as another Dreadspawn lunged, its nails raking across my shoulder before I severed its jaw with a swift strike. Starbreaker tore through its neck next, ending it cleanly. The creature collapsed, dissolving into dust that scattered around my boots.
I hissed under my breath.
I had been distracted.
A shallow line of blood stained my shoulder where the claws had grazed me not deep, but enough to sting. I pressed my hand over the scratch, muttering a curt incantation. Light sparked beneath my palm. The skin knit back together instantly, leaving no mark.
Within seconds, the clearing was still again.
What remained of the Dreadspawn blew away on the unmoving wind…flakes of ash drifting in a frozen world.
But victory didn’t settle in my chest.
Something else did.
A warning.
If they could move inside frozen time…
if they could resist even a fraction of my power…
Then the corruption was growing faster than I feared.
I tightened my grip on Starbreaker, jaw set.
Someone is controlling them.
Someone intelligent.
Someone powerful.
Someone patient.
And for the first time in a very long time, I felt the faintest tremor of anticipation.
A hunt was beginning.