Lee opened his eyes to the sound of Buster growling.
The French bulldog stood on Lee’s chest with all four paws planted firmly against him.
His wrinkled face was turned toward the center of the room, and a low rumble vibrated in his throat.
Lee followed his stare.
Nothing was there.
Morning light streamed through the dormitory window, illuminating rumpled blankets, scattered training clothes, and the stack of books William had left beside his bed.
Declan slept with one arm hanging over the edge of his mattress, while Emerson was already awake and tightening the straps on his boots.
The room looked normal.
Buster did not seem convinced.
“What is it?” Lee whispered.
The dog sniffed the air before lowering his nose to the center of Lee’s chest.
Again.
He had been doing that since Lee returned from the Elysian Void.
Lee placed a hand against the spot Elandor had touched during the examination.
He felt no pain.
His Aether channels remained calm, and the fire resting within him responded when he focused on it.
Shadow lingered deeper inside, cool and patient.
Everything felt exactly as it had before.
That should have reassured him.
It did not.
Elandor had examined dragons, giants, saints, demons, and gods.
In thousands of years, he had never failed to perceive the structure of a soul.
Until Lee.
Parts of his soul existed beyond the ancient scholar’s sight.
Lee still did not understand what that meant.
Neither did Hermes.
Buster whined and pressed one paw against Lee’s chest.
“I know,” Lee murmured.
“I don’t like it either.”
“Could the two of you have your mysterious soul conversation more quietly?”
William lay in the bed across from him with a book covering his face.
Lee glanced over.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I was until your dog started threatening the furniture.”
Buster looked toward William and growled again.
William slowly lowered the book.
“He knows I was joking, right?”
“Probably.”
“That doesn’t sound certain.”
Emerson pulled on his Academy jacket.
“How did the training go?”
Declan answered with a groan from beneath his blanket.
“No.
Don’t ask him anything that requires a long answer.”
Lee sat up, moving Buster onto the bed beside him.
“I met two new mentors.”
That got Declan’s attention.
He pushed the blanket away, his blond hair sticking out at impossible angles.
“Two?”
“Socrates and Master Elandor.”
William sat upright so quickly that the book fell into his lap.
“Elandor?”
“You know him?”
“I know of him.
Almost every modern elemental theory taught at the Academy is built on work attributed to him.”
Declan squinted.
“So he is important.”
“He developed a unified theory explaining how elemental affinities interact with Aether.”
Declan looked at Emerson.
“He knows a lot about magic,” Emerson translated.
“See?
That was much easier.”
William ignored both of them.
“What did he teach you?”
Lee raised his hand.
A flame appeared above his palm.
It was no larger than a coin.
He compressed it slowly, allowing the outer edges to fold inward until the fire became a white-orange point.
The air shimmered around it.
Emerson leaned closer.
“That is hotter than your normal fire.”
“A lot hotter,” Lee said.
Declan shifted away from the nearest curtain.
“Maybe don’t practice that indoors.”
Lee dismissed the flame.
“Elandor said I know how to command Aether, but I don’t understand it.”
“That sounds like something an old master says before hitting someone with a stick,” Declan said.
“He didn’t hit me.”
“Then you got off easy.”
Lee looked at his palm.
“He taught me that fire isn’t just heat or destruction.
It represents transformation.”
William’s expression sharpened.
“That aligns with several of the old elemental doctrines.”
“You’ve read about it?”
“Only fragments.
Elandor’s original teachings were never preserved in full.
Most texts contain interpretations written centuries later.”
“What does transformation actually mean?” Emerson asked.
Lee thought about the stone pillar.
“Fire changes things.
Wood becomes ash.
Iron becomes steel.
Clay becomes pottery.
Elandor said the best elementalists don’t just control the physical element.
They understand the principle beneath it.”
Declan scratched his chin.
“Can you transform William into someone less annoying?”
“No,” Emerson said.
“Some materials cannot be improved.”
William threw the book at him.
Lee smiled, but it faded quickly.
William noticed.
“What else happened?”
Lee glanced at the timepiece hanging beside the door.
“I have training with Captain Garrett.”
“That wasn’t an answer,” William said.
“I know.”
“Lee.”
He hesitated.
His first instinct was to keep the examination to himself.
The discovery concerned his soul, the Aether Soul, and something neither Hermes nor Elandor understood.
He did not want his friends worrying about a danger they could not fix.
Socrates’ question returned to him.
What kind of man should possess strength?
Perhaps the answer included knowing when to trust people.
“Elandor examined my soul,” Lee said.
The room quieted.
Declan stopped smiling.
“What did he find?”
“He couldn’t see all of it.”
William frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“He didn’t know.”
“He must have had a theory.”
“He didn’t.”
Lee swung his feet onto the floor.
“He said my affinities are real, my channels are healthy, and my spiritual pathways are stable.
Everything is exactly as it should be, except parts of my soul are beyond his perception.”
Emerson watched him carefully.
“Do you feel different?”
“No.”
“Any pain?”
“No.”
“Loss of control?”
“Nothing.”
Declan raised a hand.
“Any dark voices telling you to murder your closest friends?”
William stared at him.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Because I am one of his closest friends.”
“No voices,” Lee said.
Declan nodded.
“Good.
Wake me if that changes.”
William ignored him.
“What did Hermes say?”
“He didn’t understand it either.”
That answer disturbed them more than the rest.
Hermes always seemed to know more than he admitted.
Even when he withheld information, his confidence suggested he understood the larger picture.
This time, he had been as unsettled as Elandor.
William picked up his book.
“We need to search the archives.”
“We don’t even know what we’re looking for,” Emerson said.
“That has never stopped scholars.”
“It should.”
Lee pulled on his training shirt.
“We can talk about it later.”
William started to object.
Lee pointed toward the timepiece.
“If I’m late again, Garrett will make me run the perimeter carrying a shield.”
Declan fell back onto his pillow.
“Then you should definitely stay and finish the story.”
Lee grabbed his jacket.
Buster jumped from the bed and followed him to the door.
“You’re staying here.”
Buster stared up at him.
“No.”
The dog snorted.
“I mean it.”
Buster sat down.
Lee narrowed his eyes.
“You’re going to climb into my bed the second I leave, aren’t you?”
Buster yawned.
Lee opened the door.
Behind him, William said, “He is absolutely climbing into your bed.”
“I know.”
Captain Garrett was waiting in the eastern training yard.
He stood beside a rack of wooden weapons with his arms folded across his chest.
The morning sun caught the silver threaded through his close-cropped hair, but nothing softened the severe expression on his face.
Lee slowed as he entered the yard.
Garrett looked toward the clock mounted above the arena gate.
“You’re early.”
“Three minutes.”
“You’re learning.”
Lee stopped several paces away.
Garrett tossed him a wooden sword.
Lee caught it by the grip.
“No shield today?”
“No.”
“No armor?”
“No.”
Garrett selected a heavier practice blade from the rack.
Lee glanced around the empty yard.
“What are we training?”
“Judgment.”
Garrett attacked.
Lee barely raised his sword in time.
Wood struck wood with a crack that jarred his shoulder.
Garrett twisted his blade, forced Lee’s guard aside, and drove a boot into his chest.
Lee stumbled backward.
Garrett advanced without pause.
The next strike came toward Lee’s ribs.
Lee blocked.
A second blow targeted his knee.
He jumped back.
The third was a feint.
Garrett changed direction and struck Lee across the shoulder.
Pain flashed down his arm.
“You’re watching the weapon,” Garrett said.
Lee regained his stance.
“It’s the thing hitting me.”
“The weapon is following the man.”
Garrett attacked again.
This time, Lee watched his shoulders.
A slight turn warned him of the first strike.
He slipped aside and countered toward Garrett’s exposed ribs.
Garrett blocked effortlessly.
Their blades locked.
“Better.”
He shoved Lee away.
For the next several minutes, Garrett pressed him across the yard.
Lee defended, retreated, and searched for openings.
His earlier training urged him to attack harder, move faster, and overwhelm his opponent before exhaustion set in.
Elandor’s lesson suggested something else.
Purpose before power.
Garrett stepped forward with his left foot.
His balance shifted.
Only slightly.
Lee had seen the movement several times already.
Garrett always followed it with a diagonal strike meant to force Lee’s guard downward.
The captain moved.
Lee did not block the blade.
He stepped inside it.
Garrett’s practice sword passed over Lee’s shoulder.
Lee struck the inside of Garrett’s wrist with the flat of his weapon.
The captain’s grip loosened.
Lee turned, drove his shoulder against Garrett’s chest, and hooked one foot behind his ankle.
For half a second, Garrett lost his balance.
That was all Lee needed.
He pressed the wooden blade against the captain’s ribs.
Silence filled the yard.
Lee breathed heavily.
Garrett looked down at the sword.
Then at Lee.
“You hesitated.”
“I thought the opening might be a trap.”
“It was.”
Lee’s satisfaction disappeared.
Garrett twisted.
His elbow struck Lee’s wrist, sending the sword spinning from his hand.
A moment later, the captain’s blade rested against Lee’s throat.
“But you adapted well.”
Garrett stepped back and lowered his weapon.
Lee retrieved his sword.
“You could have just said I did well.”
“I could also lie to you.”
Garrett returned to the center of the yard.
“Again.”
They fought until Lee’s shirt clung to his back and his arms trembled from repeated impacts.
Garrett changed weapons twice, forcing Lee to adjust to different ranges and attack patterns.
When Garrett finally called a halt, Lee bent forward with both hands resting on his knees.
The captain looked barely winded.
“You’re fighting differently.”
Lee straightened.
“I met a new mentor.”
“I assumed as much.”
“How?”
“You used to solve every problem by increasing force.”
Garrett gestured toward the sword in Lee’s hand.
“Today you reduced your effort.”
“Elandor taught me about elemental principles.”
“Elandor?”
Garrett’s eyes narrowed.
“You know him too?”
“I know enough.”
“He said fire represents transformation.”
Garrett nodded once.
“That sounds like him.”
“You’ve trained with Elandor?”
“No.”
Garrett returned the practice weapon to the rack.
“I watched him dismantle an army without killing anyone.”
Lee stared.
“How?”
“He transformed the ground beneath them into glass.”
Garrett picked up a waterskin and tossed it over.
“Ten thousand soldiers discovered that armor is less useful when no one can stand.”
Lee drank.
“What happened to the army?”
“They surrendered.”
Garrett leaned against the weapon rack.
“Power is rarely the same thing as destruction.
Anyone can break what is weaker than them.”
His gaze settled on Lee.
“The difficult part is deciding what must remain intact.”
Lee thought about the pillar Elandor had altered without damaging the structure.
Garrett studied him for another moment.
“What else did Elandor find?”
Lee lowered the waterskin.
“Why do you think he found something?”
“You are distracted.”
“I’m exhausted.”
“You were exhausted yesterday.”
Lee looked toward the far end of the yard.
Garrett waited.
He did not press, but Lee understood the silence for what it was.
An invitation.
“Elandor examined my soul,” Lee said.
Garrett’s expression remained still.
“He couldn’t fully perceive it.”
That earned a reaction.
Not fear.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
It appeared for only an instant before Garrett hid it.
Lee stepped closer.
“You know something.”
“I know that ancient beings dislike encountering questions they cannot answer.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“It is the answer I have.”
Garrett took the waterskin back.
“Did Elandor believe you were in immediate danger?”
“No.”
“Did Hermes?”
“No.”
“Then continue training.”
Lee frowned.
“That’s your advice?”
“Until you understand the threat, your choices are limited.”
Garrett’s voice hardened.
“You can either become paralyzed by uncertainty or prepare yourself for whatever the answer brings.”
Lee could not argue with that.
Garrett looked toward the arena gate.
“We’re finished.”
“Already?”
“You said you had classes.”
Lee glanced toward the clock.
He had less than thirty minutes before the first lecture.
Garrett started walking away.
“Captain.”
He stopped.
“When you heard about my soul, you recognized something.”
Garrett did not turn around.
“I recognized concern.”
“That’s not what I saw.”
“No.”
Garrett resumed walking.
“But it is all I am prepared to discuss.”
Lee watched him leave.
Another secret.
Another person who knew more than he was willing to reveal.
Buster’s behavior.
Elandor’s disbelief.
Hermes’ silence.
Now Garrett’s reaction.
Whatever existed within Lee was becoming harder to ignore.
The path from the eastern training yard passed between two residence halls and the lower market court.
Students crowded the walkways as they hurried toward morning lessons.
Some carried books and weapons.
Others purchased food from small stalls run by Academy staff.
Lee moved quickly.
He had nearly crossed the market court when shouting drew his attention.
Three older students had cornered a first-year beside a closed supply kiosk.
The younger student wore an oversized Academy jacket and held a small canvas pouch against his chest.
One of the upperclassmen blocked the path while the other two stood on either side.
Students passed nearby.
None stopped.
Lee slowed.
The largest of the older students held out his hand.
“You know the arrangement.”
“I already paid this week,” the first-year said.
“You paid for the dormitory.”
The senior nodded toward the training grounds.
“This is for access to the western practice halls.”
“They’re Academy facilities.”
The second senior laughed.
“Then complain to the Academy.”
The younger student glanced toward the crowd.
People avoided his eyes.
The large senior reached for the pouch.
The first-year pulled away.
“Please.
I need these for elemental practice.”
“Then you should have earned more.”
Lee started toward them.
Garrett’s morning lesson stopped him.
Anyone could break what was weaker.
He studied the scene.
Three seniors.
The largest carried a heavy practice sword.
The second wore metal gauntlets marked with earthen runes.
The third had no visible weapon, but faint currents of air moved around his boots.
All three stood confidently.
Too confidently.
They did not watch for instructors.
They expected no interference.
Lee looked beyond them.
A man in an Academy patrol uniform stood near the entrance to the western hall.
He had a clear view of the confrontation.
He turned away.
That changed the problem.
This was not random bullying.
The students were protected.
Lee approached at a normal pace.
The first-year noticed him first.
The seniors turned.
The largest one looked Lee up and down.
“Keep walking.”
Lee stopped several steps away.
“I’m trying to reach the western hall.”
“It’s closed.”
Lee glanced toward the open doors behind them.
“It doesn’t look closed.”
“It is for first-years.”
The student with the gauntlets smirked.
“Unless they pay.”
Lee looked at the younger student.
“How much?”
“Not your concern,” the leader said.
“I wasn’t asking you.”
The first-year swallowed.
“Five training credits and any Aether fragments earned during morning drills.”
Lee looked back at the seniors.
“That seems expensive.”
The air-aspected student stepped closer.
“Walk away.”
Lee felt the pressure change around the senior’s boots.
A warning.
Not an attack yet.
Lee could defeat them.
Perhaps not easily, but he had trained under Garrett, Achilles, Milo, Ajax, and now Elandor.
His Fire and Shadow affinities gave him options they did not expect.
But fighting would reveal abilities, draw attention, and warn whoever protected them.
Instead, Lee looked toward the patrol officer.
“Is that instructor part of your arrangement?”
All three seniors stiffened.
The leader’s expression hardened.
“You talk too much.”
“So that’s a yes.”
The senior grabbed Lee’s shoulder.
Lee did not strike him.
He placed two fingers against the buckle fastening the student’s chest armor.
A tiny flame appeared.
Not enough to burn.
Only enough to heat the metal pin holding the buckle together.
The senior jerked his hand away.
The pin softened.
His armor strap snapped loose, and the heavy chest piece shifted sideways.
Before he could recover, Lee stepped past him and took the pouch from the first-year’s hands.
The other two moved.
Lee tossed the pouch over their heads.
The first-year caught it.
“Run,” Lee said.
The younger student hesitated.
“Now.”
He ran.
The air-aspected senior started after him.
Lee stepped into his path.
A gust exploded across the court.
Lee crossed his arms as the wind struck him.
His boots slid several feet over the stone, but he remained upright.
Nearby students scattered.
The patrol officer finally looked back.
He still did not approach.
The leader pulled off the loose armor and drew his practice sword.
“You made a mistake.”
“Probably.”
Lee glanced toward the fleeing first-year.
The boy had reached the far walkway.
The immediate purpose had been achieved.
Now Lee needed information.
“Who do you give the payments to?”
The senior lunged.
Lee moved aside.
The wooden blade passed his ribs.
He could have countered with fire.
Instead, he caught the senior’s wrist, turned with the momentum of the strike, and guided him into the stone wall beside the kiosk.
The blade clattered to the ground.
The student with the gauntlets swung at Lee’s head.
Lee ducked.
The gauntlet smashed into the wall.
Stone cracked.
Lee swept the student’s leg and shoved him into the first senior.
Both fell in a tangle of limbs and loose armor.
The air wielder raised both hands.
Wind spiraled around him.
Lee felt Shadow stir within him.
He suppressed it.
Too many witnesses.
The senior released the spell.
Lee dropped one hand to the stone pavement.
A concentrated flame flashed across its surface.
He did not melt the entire path.
Only a thin layer beneath the senior’s leading foot.
The stone softened.
His boot sank ankle-deep.
The wind spell collapsed as he lost his balance.
Lee stepped forward and pressed the edge of his wooden training sword against the student’s chest.
“I asked who receives the payments.”
The senior glared at him.
“You’re dead.”
“That isn’t a name.”
The leader pushed himself upright.
“This isn’t over.”
The patrol officer finally approached.
“What is happening here?”
His voice carried practiced authority.
Lee looked at him.
“You were watching.”
The officer’s expression tightened.
“I saw you attack three senior students.”
Lee nodded toward the cracked wall and melted stone.
“They attacked first.”
“Do you have witnesses?”
Dozens of students stood around the market court.
Every one of them suddenly found something else to look at.
The officer turned toward the seniors.
“Is that true?”
The leader straightened his damaged uniform.
“He attacked us without provocation.”
The other two nodded.
The officer looked back at Lee.
“Name.”
“Lee.”
“Family name?”
“Just Lee.”
Recognition passed through the officer’s eyes.
It was brief, but Lee saw it.
The officer already knew who he was.
“Report to the disciplinary hall after your final class.”
“What about them?”
“They will be questioned.”
The answer sounded rehearsed.
The leader retrieved his sword and smiled faintly.
Lee understood.
No meaningful punishment would follow.
The confrontation had solved one problem and created several more.
As the seniors walked away, Lee watched the leader slip the patrol officer a small metal token.
The officer closed his hand around it without looking down.
Then he turned to the crowd.
“Move along.”
The students obeyed.
Lee remained where he stood.
The officer met his gaze.
“Final class,” he repeated.
Lee glanced at the insignia on the man’s collar.
Halvek.
He committed the name to memory.
The Hall of Civilizations resembled an ancient amphitheater.
Curved stone benches descended toward a circular floor covered by a vast mosaic.
Dozens of races surrounded a sphere of blue-white light at its center.
Humans.
Giants.
Elves.
Dragons.
Angels.
Demons.
Other creatures Lee could not identify.
He entered seconds before the lecture began and took a seat beside William.
“You’re late,” William whispered.
“I’m not.”
“You’re bleeding.”
Lee looked down.
A shallow scrape marked his forearm.
“I had a disagreement.”
“With what?”
“Three upperclassmen and a patrol officer.”
William stared at him.
Before he could ask more, an elderly instructor stepped onto the mosaic.
She wore layered robes of blue and bronze.
A chain of small stone tablets hung from her waist.
“My name is Archivist Senara,” she said.
“This course concerns civilizations that existed before the latest Awakening and those returning because of it.”
Whispers moved through the hall.
Senara lifted one hand.
The central sphere in the mosaic illuminated.
“Our world was never isolated.”
Images formed above her.
Ancient cities carved into mountains.
Temples floating over clouds.
Ships crossing seas of stars.
“The barriers between realms weakened many times throughout human history.
Each event permitted fragments of other civilizations to enter your world and your collective memory.”
The image shifted.
A winged figure descended through the clouds.
“Some became angels.”
A massive scaled creature rose from a black ocean.
“Others became dragons.”
A horned warrior appeared amid flames.
“Demons.”
Then a towering humanoid formed inside a desert storm.
Its body appeared woven from smoke and fire.
Golden bands circled its arms, and its eyes burned like heated metal.
“Djinn.”
Lee felt someone watching from behind him.
He glanced toward the rear wall.
Hermes stood beneath one of the stone arches.
No one else reacted to his presence.
The messenger god’s usual smile was gone.
Senara continued.
“Human legends often portray Djinn as spirits who grant wishes.
That interpretation is incomplete and frequently fatal.”
Several students leaned forward.
“Djinn are beings of smokeless fire, concentrated will, and living Aether.
Their powers differ according to lineage, environment, age, rank, and the metaphysical principle they embody.”
The image divided into several forms.
One burned with crimson fire and wore blackened armor.
“Ifrit.
Often associated with flame, warfare, endurance, and destructive transformation.”
Another rose from deep water, its skin shining like blue glass.
“Marid.
Masters of water, pressure, storms, and ancient contracts.”
A thin creature moved through a moonlit graveyard.
Its limbs were too long, and its smile stretched too far across its face.
“Ghul.
Predatory Djinn associated with hunger, graves, deception, and physical transformation.”
A winged figure descended through spiraling wind.
“Jann.
Wanderers of open places, known for speed, concealment, and affinity with air.”
More figures appeared.
Some beautiful.
Some monstrous.
Some almost indistinguishable from humans.
“Never assume appearance reveals moral nature,” Senara warned.
“Djinn can alter shape, voice, and perception.
The most dangerous among them rarely attack openly.”
The image changed.
A human king sat upon a throne.
A shadow leaned close to his ear.
“They bargain.”
The word echoed through the hall.
“They offer power to the helpless.
Wealth to the desperate.
Revenge to the wounded.
Love to the lonely.
Recognition to those who believe the world has overlooked them.”
Lee thought about the upperclassmen.
Coins.
Training credits.
Aether fragments.
Access to facilities.
Power granted in exchange for obedience.
“A Djinn does not always need to force a person into ruin,” Senara continued.
“It need only discover what that person desires more than wisdom.”
Lee looked toward Hermes again.
The god remained motionless.
“Not all Djinn are enemies,” Senara said.
“They possess nations, traditions, rivalries, alliances, and laws of their own.”
The images shifted to vast cities beneath desert skies and palaces rising from oceans.
“But should one offer you everything you have ever wanted, ask yourself a simple question.”
Senara’s gaze passed over the students.
“Why does a being capable of granting it need your consent?”
The image disappeared.
Hermes was gone.
Lee found him outside the hall.
Hermes stood beneath a stone arch overlooking the Academy gardens.
Students moved along the paths below, unaware of the god observing them.
“You’ve never mentioned the Djinn,” Lee said.
Hermes kept his attention on the crowd.
“There are many things I haven’t mentioned.”
“You looked worried.”
“I have a naturally thoughtful face.”
“You weren’t smiling.”
“That proves nothing.”
Lee stepped beside him.
“Are the Djinn connected to the Awakening?”
“Yes.”
“To the falling Aether fragments?”
“Possibly.”
“To Iblis?”
Hermes turned sharply.
Lee held his gaze.
“You told me Iblis was searching for me.”
“I did.”
“You also said he was building an army.”
“Yes.”
“Senara said Djinn recruit people by offering what they desire.”
Hermes looked back toward the gardens.
“Some do.”
“Is that how Iblis recruits?”
“Often.”
Lee thought about the patrol officer taking the metal token.
“I saw upperclassmen extorting a first-year this morning.”
Hermes’ expression did not change.
“They were collecting training credits and Aether fragments.
An Academy patrol officer watched and did nothing.”
“That concerns you?”
“It should concern everyone.”
“That was not my question.”
Lee lowered his voice.
“Could Iblis already have people inside the Academy?”
Hermes remained silent long enough to provide the answer.
Lee’s stomach tightened.
“You knew this was possible.”
“I know Iblis has recruited mortals, monsters, demigods, and lesser divine beings across many realms.”
“By force?”
“When necessary.”
“And when force isn’t necessary?”
“He offers them what they believe they deserve.”
Hermes’ voice grew colder.
“Power.
Beauty.
Revenge.
Authority.
Freedom from grief.
The return of someone they lost.”
“Can he actually give them those things?”
“Sometimes.”
That answer was more disturbing than a lie would have been.
Hermes looked directly at him.
“Iblis is dangerous because his bargains are rarely empty.”
Lee remembered his father.
If Iblis offered to bring him back, what would Lee sacrifice?
The answer came too quickly.
Almost anything.
Hermes watched the realization cross his face.
“That is how he begins.”
Lee clenched his jaw.
“Could a Djinn be inside the Academy?”
“A Djinn powerful enough to conceal itself from the Academy wards would represent a serious threat.”
“That isn’t a no.”
“No.”
Hermes stepped away from the arch.
“But the greater danger may be people who willingly prepare the way for one.”
Golden light gathered around him.
“Be careful whom you confront.”
“I already confronted them.”
Hermes closed his eyes briefly.
“Of course you did.”
“They were hurting someone.”
“I am not criticizing the choice.”
The light brightened.
“I am warning you that the people you saw may be the smallest part of the problem.”
He vanished.
Lee remained beneath the arch.
Below him, hundreds of students crossed the gardens.
Any of them could be afraid.
Angry.
Desperate.
Any of them might accept an offer they believed would solve everything.
William waited until they were inside an unused study chamber before demanding the full story.
“You fought three upperclassmen before class?”
“I didn’t fight all three at once.”
“That is not reassuring.”
Emerson stood beside the door, watching the corridor through a narrow window.
Declan sat on the table eating an apple.
Lilith leaned against the opposite wall with her arms crossed.
She had arrived after William sent her a message requesting help.
Lee described the confrontation, the patrol officer, and the token exchanged afterward.
When he finished, Lilith’s expression had hardened.
“You said the officer’s name was Halvek?”
“It was written on his collar.”
“I know him.”
Emerson turned from the door.
“How?”
“He oversees evening patrols near the western dormitories.”
“That gives him access to student schedules and recording-crystal placements,” William said.
Declan took another bite of his apple.
“He also has a reputation.”
“What kind?” Lee asked.
“The expensive kind.”
William frowned.
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means students say he likes gifts.”
“Bribes?”
Declan shrugged.
“I was trying to sound subtle.”
Lilith stepped toward the table.
“This is bigger than one patrol officer.”
“How do you know?” Lee asked.
“Because the western dormitories already have a collection system.”
She removed a small leather pouch from her jacket and emptied it onto the table.
Coins, food vouchers, and two pale-blue Aether fragments scattered across the surface.
William picked up one of the fragments.
“From a second-year collector.”
“You robbed him?” Emerson asked.
“He dropped them.”
Declan grinned.
“Before or after you hit him?”
“He fell badly.”
Lee looked at the fragments.
“The students this morning were collecting the same things.”
Lilith nodded.
“They have been operating for at least two weeks.
Possibly longer.”
“Why didn’t anyone report it?” William asked.
“They did.”
She produced a folded disciplinary notice and handed it to him.
William read it aloud.
“Unauthorized movement after curfew.
Interference with senior students.
Theft of Academy property.”
Lee looked up.
“They accused you of stealing the pouch.”
“The collector claimed it belonged to him.”
“What happened when you explained?”
“Halvek told me to stop causing trouble.”
Emerson’s jaw tightened.
“So he is protecting them.”
“At minimum.”
William examined the Aether fragment under the room’s crystal lamp.
“These pieces are low grade.
Individually, they are barely useful.”
“But in large quantities?” Lee asked.
“They could power artifacts, strengthen wards, or sustain rituals.”
The last word settled heavily over the table.
Declan placed his apple down.
“I spoke with two first-years from the western dormitory.”
“You already knew about this?” Lee asked.
“I knew students were paying for access to training halls.
I thought it was senior students exploiting stupid rules.”
“What did the first-years say?”
Declan’s expression became serious.
“Students who cannot pay are offered another option.”
“What kind?”
“They attend private meetings.”
Lilith nodded.
“I heard the same thing.”
Emerson looked between them.
“What happens at the meetings?”
“No one would tell me,” Declan said.
“One boy said they offer opportunities to students who feel overlooked.”
Lee remembered Senara’s lecture.
Power to the helpless.
Recognition to those who felt ignored.
“What do they ask in return?” he said.
“Small tasks at first,” Lilith replied.
“Stealing training supplies.
Copying schedules.
Watching instructors.
Identifying students who are angry or desperate.”
William slowly lowered the Aether fragment.
“They’re recruiting.”
“Not just recruiting,” Lee said.
“Testing.”
The others looked at him.
“They find out what someone is willing to do before offering them more.”
Emerson crossed his arms.
“We report this to an instructor above Halvek.”
“Which one?” Lilith asked.
“The Academy commandant.”
“With what evidence?”
Emerson gestured toward the table.
“Extorted currency, stolen fragments, and Halvek’s disciplinary notice.”
“The pouch proves someone had coins,” William said.
“The notice proves Lilith was outside after curfew.”
Emerson’s expression darkened.
“He’s right.”
Declan picked up the apple again.
“I hate when William is right.”
“It happens frequently.”
“Don’t ruin the moment.”
Lee studied the items spread across the table.
The old Lee would have suggested confronting every collector they could find.
Socrates had taught him to question purpose.
Elandor had taught him that power should create the necessary transformation.
Garrett had taught him to determine what must remain intact.
The collectors were not the true structure.
They were only a visible piece of it.
“We investigate,” Lee said.
Lilith’s eyes narrowed.
“No direct attack?”
“Not yet.”
Declan pointed the apple at him.
“You really have changed.”
“We need names, locations, schedules, and proof that Halvek is involved.”
William reached for a blank sheet of paper.
“I can search the archives for previous disciplinary reports and unexplained losses of Aether materials.”
“Emerson,” Lee said, “find out which instructors control patrol routes and storage access.”
Emerson nodded.
“Declan, talk to the first-years.
Find out who has attended the meetings and whether anyone is scheduled to go tonight.”
Declan sighed.
“You give me all the dangerous social work.”
“You said you were charming.”
“I am.
It’s exhausting.”
Lee turned toward Lilith.
“You already know the western dormitories.”
“I’ll follow the collectors.”
“Do not confront them alone.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You confronted three this morning.”
“And now Halvek knows my name.”
“That sounds like a reason to let me handle it.”
“It’s a reason for all of us to be careful.”
Lilith studied him.
Then she nodded.
“What will you do?”
Lee looked at the Aether fragments.
“I’ll watch Halvek.”
By evening, the investigation had produced more than Lee expected.
William found seven disciplinary complaints involving extortion, stolen training credits, or unauthorized senior access to first-year dormitories.
Every complaint had been dismissed.
Five carried Halvek’s signature.
Emerson discovered that supplies had disappeared from three Academy storage rooms over the past month.
Aether fragments.
Binding metals.
Ritual inks.
Recording crystals.
No single loss was large enough to trigger a formal investigation.
Together, they formed a pattern.
Declan learned that at least fourteen first-years had attended private meetings.
Three had withdrawn from the Academy afterward.
Four had suddenly gained expensive equipment despite coming from families with little money.
Lilith found the location.
An old administrative building beyond the western training grounds.
The building had supposedly been sealed since the Academy opened.
It was not sealed now.
They gathered in the same study chamber shortly before curfew.
William spread a map across the table.
“The building has four entrances, but only the eastern service door remains accessible.”
“How do you know?” Declan asked.
“I found the original architectural plans.”
“Why were those available?”
“They weren’t.”
Declan smiled.
“William.”
“I borrowed them.”
“I’m proud of you.”
Emerson pointed to the western path.
“Patrols pass every twenty minutes.
Halvek controls the first two rotations, but another officer takes over at midnight.”
“That gives us a narrow window,” Lilith said.
Lee examined the map.
“We observe only.”
Declan groaned.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I know you.”
“What if someone attacks us?”
“We defend ourselves and leave.”
“What if we discover a Djinn?”
Everyone looked at him.
Declan shrugged.
“It seems like the sort of question we should ask.”
“If a Djinn appears,” Lee said, “we leave immediately.”
Lilith tapped the map.
“You think it could be connected to Iblis.”
“I think the methods fit.”
“Temptation and recruitment,” William said.
Emerson looked at Lee.
“Does Hermes believe Iblis has people here?”
“He believes it is possible.”
That was enough.
They finalized their positions.
William would remain in the dormitory and track patrol movements through an Academy communication artifact.
Emerson and Lee would watch the building from the roof of a nearby storage hall.
Lilith would cover the northern path.
Declan would watch the east.
No one would enter.
No one would fight.
They would identify the attendees and leave.
Simple.
Lee had learned enough to distrust simple plans.
The abandoned administrative building stood behind a dense wall of cedar trees.
Dark vines covered its stone exterior.
Several windows had been boarded shut, while others remained broken and open to the night air.
A cracked statue lay near the entrance with its face buried in weeds.
Lee crouched on the roof of the neighboring storage hall.
Emerson lay beside him, watching the grounds through a narrow viewing crystal.
The first students arrived shortly before midnight.
Two second-years approached from the northern dormitories.
Three more came from the training grounds.
A pair of first-years hurried along the western wall, glancing behind them every few steps.
All entered through the eastern service door.
More followed.
Lee counted twenty-seven before the arrivals stopped.
Different years.
Different affinities.
Different social groups.
This was not a collection of friends or a band of ordinary bullies.
It was an organization.
The communication token at Lee’s waist pulsed.
William’s voice whispered through it.
“Patrol just passed the southern path.
You have approximately sixteen minutes.”
Emerson lowered the viewing crystal.
“We have enough.”
“We don’t know who leads them.”
“We know the location and twenty-seven members.”
“And Halvek?”
“Not present.”
Lee watched the dark windows.
They needed proof connecting the organization to the patrol officer.
A faint light appeared on the building’s lower floor.
Not yellow.
Not orange.
Black.
For an instant, Lee thought he was looking through a window into an empty part of the night.
Then the flame moved.
It burned without illuminating the surrounding walls.
Smokeless fire.
Lee felt the Aether Soul stir.
Not awaken.
React.
A pulse passed through his chest.
Emerson looked toward him.
“What is it?”
“Something inside.”
“Djinn?”
“I don’t know.”
The correct choice was to leave.
They had evidence.
They had names.
They had the location.
Yet the black flame might be the first direct link between the Academy corruption and Iblis.
Lee closed his eyes.
Shadow flowed beneath his skin.
He guided a thin strand over the edge of the roof.
It slipped down the wall, crossed the grass, and joined the natural darkness beneath the cedar trees.
The distance strained his control.
He resisted the urge to increase the amount of Aether.
Precision.
The shadow reached the administrative building and slipped beneath a boarded window.
Sound returned in fragments.
“…lower than expected…”
“…first-years resisting…”
“…Halvek will correct it…”
Lee’s eyes opened.
“Halvek is involved,” he whispered.
Emerson’s face hardened.
Inside, something struck the floor.
The conversations stopped.
Lee pushed his awareness farther into the room.
He could not see clearly, but he sensed bodies standing in rows.
A single figure occupied the front of the chamber.
The black flame burned beside it.
The figure’s voice was calm and measured.
“You were not invited because you are strong.”
Silence answered.
“You were invited because you are dissatisfied.”
Lee felt the words through his shadow connection.
Not merely as sound.
As pressure.
“You have been ignored.”
A pause.
“Humiliated.”
Another.
“Denied what should have been yours.”
The shadow trembled.
Images pressed against Lee’s mind.
His father dying beneath a cyclops’s club.
His mother and sister surrounded by monsters.
His friends lying broken because he had been too weak to save them.
Then the vision changed.
Lee stood above the cyclops.
Stronger.
Faster.
Unstoppable.
His father stood alive behind him.
The image carried no explanation.
Only an offer.
Power could correct everything.
Lee’s breath caught.
His control weakened.
Elandor’s voice returned.
Fire is transformation.
Socrates followed.
What kind of man should possess strength?
Then Garrett.
Determine what must remain intact.
Lee steadied himself.
The vision faded.
Inside the chamber, the speaker continued.
“The Academy tells you power must be earned through obedience.
Patience.
Rules written by those who already possess everything you desire.”
Murmurs of agreement moved through the room.
“We offer another path.”
The black flame pulsed.
“Serve faithfully, and you will receive what they denied you.”
A student near the front spoke.
“What do we have to do?”
“For now?”
The hidden speaker sounded amused.
“Very little.”
Objects moved through the room.
Lee sensed the same corrupt warmth in each one.
“Carry the mark.
Gather what is required.
Identify those willing to listen.”
Another student asked, “What happens to those who refuse?”
“They will watch you rise.”
Quiet laughter followed.
Then a different voice spoke from near the rear.
“There was a problem this morning.”
The room fell silent.
“One of the first-years interfered with the collectors.”
Lee’s muscles tightened.
“Name?”
“Lee.”
The black flame bent toward the hidden speaker.
The figure did not answer immediately.
Lee felt something touch the shadow he had extended into the room.
Not a hand.
An awareness.
It slid along his connection.
Searching.
Lee’s blood turned cold.
“Someone is listening,” the speaker said.
Lee severed the technique.
The shadow snapped back into him.
Pain flashed behind his eyes, and he nearly slipped from the roof.
Emerson caught his shoulder.
“What happened?”
“We leave.”
Emerson did not question him.
They dropped from the storage hall.
Across the grounds, Lilith emerged from the northern trees.
Declan sprinted from the eastern path.
The communication token pulsed.
“Halvek changed the patrol route,” William warned.
“He’s coming directly toward you.”
“How long?” Emerson asked.
“Less than two minutes.”
They ran.
Behind them, the eastern door of the administrative building opened.
Lee glanced back.
A hooded figure stood in the doorway.
A pale mask covered its face.
The mask had no eyes.
No mouth.
Black fire burned above one raised hand.
The figure did not pursue.
It watched.
Then a voice entered Lee’s thoughts.
Soft.
Patient.
Inviting.
You want the strength to protect them.
Lee stumbled.
Emerson caught him and pulled him forward.
“Keep moving.”
The voice followed.
We know.
Lee clenched his jaw.
He did not answer.
The group disappeared between the trees moments before Academy patrol lights swept across the western grounds.
The masked figure remained in the doorway.
A senior student approached from inside the building.
“Should we pursue them?”
“No.”
The black flame curled around the figure’s fingers.
“The boy resisted the ember.”
“Without an initiation?”
“Yes.”
The senior lowered his head.
“Is he the one?”
The mask turned toward the path where Lee had vanished.
“Perhaps.”
“What should we tell the master?”
The flame contracted into a single black point.
“Nothing yet.”
The figure closed its hand.
“Iblis has searched for centuries.
He will not tolerate another false report.”
The senior swallowed.
“Then what do we do?”
“We learn what Lee desires.”
The blank mask tilted slightly.
“Every soul has a door.”
The black flame reappeared.
“We need only find his.”