Tournaments came and went throughout the second year, and we won more than we lost. Our points climbed steadily, keeping all of us safely in the top two hundred fifty.

  Our teamwork continued to grow across those months and our friendships did the same. Meals shared between drills, long nights in the training halls, stolen moments of laughter in corridors still echoing from earlier fights—those things wrapped themselves around the year like a steadying hand.

  And maybe we needed that steadiness more than any of us realized.

  Because the tournaments were a distraction. A good one—but still a distraction—from the strange things happening outside the Academy walls… and the stranger things happening inside them.

  Throughout our final year, dungeons and rifts still flared across the continent. None of them reached the scale of what happened in the south during our second year, but the tension never really faded. Kingdoms had begun coordinating with guilds, forming rapid-response units to contain threats before they grew to dangerous. It felts about as stable as possible for the current changes.

  Inside the academy, something darker was unfolding.

  Students began to vanish first. Pockets of disappearances brushed off as accidents during delves, rift expeditions, cavern treks. It was easy to ignore when it happened far from the walls of the Academy. Too easy.

  Then professors began to disappear.

  That’s when everything changed.

  Our group stayed unharmed, but others weren’t as fortunate. Milo lost the professor who taught the advanced portion of his alchemy and trapwork. I’d never seen him that shaken. The grief worked its way into all of us.

  Investigations spread through the halls, headmasters, wardens, even a contingent from the Umbral Directorate, the guild that specialized in information gathering and deep-dive detective work. They sifted through the missing and the dead. Slowly, a pattern surfaced.

  Almost everyone who vanished had either an innate gift or a family lineage especially effective against parasitical or undead things — rotbinders, purifiers, decay-resistant bloodlines, healers streaked with miasma immunity. People who could stand against festering and death.

  It was impossible not to think of Luceran.

  That same sickly sense I’d carried since our first year had settled deeper into me, like mold taking hold in the corners of a house. He had risen to the number one spot in the Academy by then, his ascent was drastic. And the goblins I fought in the introduction tournament? Now they were a part of his group. Somehow they’d surged into the top hundred. The whole thing felt wrong in a way that made my bones itch.

  Nothing ever came from the investigations into him, or anyone tied to him. Every trail dried up. Every accusation dissolved into nothing. But the people who went missing… they all had strong ties to the Velmine Empire or to nobility, whether by blood or by service.

  That only deepened the knot in my chest.

  Asher told me he was watching the situation more closely. He admitted he felt uneasy. Said that if I hadn’t been so close to graduation, he would have pulled me out of the Academy altogether before the final semester even began.

  His warning stayed with me through the final stretch of the year. Even on days that felt normal, with classes and drills and tournaments and late-night studying while Milo drifted in and out of sleep, the unease never really left.

  It clung to the corners of the Academy like something watching from behind the walls. By the time graduation arrived, I felt both relieved and strangely exposed, as if stepping beyond those halls meant stepping toward whatever had been moving in the background all along.

  The ceremony passed in a blur. Students stood in long rows of formal colors. The headmasters gave speeches no one would remember. Families cheered as names echoed through the courtyard. When it was over, our group drifted together and talked about future delves and guild paths. We laughed, we teased one another, and for a moment we enjoyed each other’s company trying not to think about going our separate ways.

  We were just about to split up. Milo was already eyeing the food tables he wanted to go invade. Malorn was scanning the crowd for Fern. Zephyra had Shine in a quiet conversation a few steps away. Grond had left earlier with his family to celebrate at home. Dusk was swimming through the ground beneath us. She was introverted and so big now that she didn’t fit well in crowds.

  I had just turned toward the gate when I saw Asher pushing through the crowd.

  He was not dressed for a celebration. His cloak was creased from travel, his boots were dusty, and his expression carried the tension of someone who had come quickly and without planning.

  “Bryn,” he called, taking hold of my arm. “Good. Most of your group is here.”

  Milo frowned as he pulled his attention away from the food tables. “Did something happen?”

  Asher didn’t answer immediately. He reached into his coat and pulled out a sealed letter. Thick parchment. Deep red ink. The royal sigil of the House of Velmine.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “It arrived this morning,” he said. “From Sirius.”

  My chest tightened. I had not heard from the prince in months.

  Asher continued, “He’s asking for you. He says the request is urgent. And he invites any companions you trust to come with you.”

  Milo looked at Malorn and gave a small, knowing grin. “Sounds like something worth saying yes to.”

  Malorn nodded once. “If a prince is calling, we may as well listen.”

  Zephyra stepped close with Shine, her ever-present shadow.

  “Unfortunately, I have duties waiting back home as I begin my formal training. Shine will be accompanying me. We wish you all the best.” She hugged each of us, and we bid them farewell as they slipped back into the moving crowd.

  That left only Milo, Malorn, and me.

  I looked at them both. After everything we had survived, it felt almost wrong to imagine going without them. And something in Asher’s voice told me that whatever waited ahead would turn our years at the Academy into preparation rather than any kind of conclusion. I was glad to have them by my side.

  Asher lowered his voice. “I don’t know what the letter says. I only know he wanted you to bring anyone you trusted.” He placed it in my hand.

  A breeze crossed the courtyard and carried the fading cheers of the last students celebrating nearby. I broke the seal.

  The letter waited inside.

  I unfolded the parchment. Sirius’s handwriting was usually clean and formal, but here and there the lines pressed a little harder, as if he had written quickly or with a restless hand.

  Bryn,

  I wish this letter were for something simple. I wish it were just to congratulate you, or to complain about training, or to ask how your group has managed to stay alive this long. I would rather write about anything else… but things here are getting worse.

  The disappearances you saw at the Academy are happening all over Velmine. Families with gifts against rot, parasitical or fungal miasma, decay, or undeath are going missing one by one. Some leave no trace at all. Others vanish in ways that feel almost staged, like someone wants us to see the pattern and still be too late to stop it. We are not exactly sure what weakness the culprits are aiming to create.

  I don’t want to alarm you, but I need to be honest. I think someone is trying to start a war for the throne. I can’t prove it yet, and I’m not putting names in writing, but I can feel it tightening around us. This isn’t random. Someone is hunting pieces they consider threats.

  I need people I trust. That list is short, Bryn. You are on it. So I’m asking you to come. You can bring anyone in your team that you trust completely. Officially, you’ll be part of my guard. Unofficially… I want to build something more than that. A team. A party that grows alongside me in strength and purpose. You know how the world works. No one rises alone.

  My part of my own training is almost finished, and the next stage means leaving the capital. The royal family has access to things that help us grow, things that aren’t offered to the public or even to the guilds. When we set out, each prince is given the chance to choose who will stand with him. I want you with me from the beginning.

  I swallowed hard and kept reading.

  There’s something else. I think I’ve found a way to get a real reading on your growth. The Academy’s tablet didn’t work for you, and neither did the tests they tried after. This is different. I won’t write the details here, but if I’m right, it could finally show what has been hidden in you. And if it does… Bryn, it could change everything. For you, and maybe for all of us.

  Come as soon as you can. I’ll explain the rest in person.

  —Sirius

  I let the letter fall slightly in my hand. Milo leaned closer, curious as pipe smoke curled through his fingers. Malorn waited patiently, scratching the spot behind Fern’s ears that made her tails sway.

  They both watched me, waiting for whatever came next.

  “It’s sounds serious,” I said quietly. “The same kind of disappearances we have seen at the Academy… they’re happening in Velmine. Nobility and others tied to healing, purity, anything that can stand against undeath. Sirius and his family believe an internal conflict is coming.”

  Milo’s brow lifted, though the usual joke on his tongue never surfaced.

  Malorn stilled his hand. “And he wants you there.”

  “He wants anyone I trust,” I said. “He didn’t put everything in the letter, but this isn’t like the team we had with Zephyra. That was always meant to dissolve after graduation. It worked because it was what she wanted. She could have had anyone on her team, and I still do not know why she chose all of us. This is different. Sirius is choosing people he’ll plan to walk with for the rest of his life. A prince’s party isn’t temporary.”

  Milo’s low whistle cut through the air. “So he’s asking us to be his actual party. Permanently.” His eyes widened a little, but the grin forming on his face wasn’t playful this time. It carried something like wonder.

  “Officially we will be guards, but unofficially this is the start of his chosen party. He would be the one with final say of course. I cannot guarantee you will be in his party, but I trust you both with my life. That will weigh in his decision for sure. Either way it would grant a positive position connected to him.”

  Fern nudged Malorn’s hand again. The ranger’s expression grew still and thoughtful. “That kind of commitment is rare,” he said softly. “And binding.”

  “It is,” I agreed. “But he can offer resources that not even the Academy had access to. Thing royal lines keep for their heirs and house. He wants us there from the beginning.”

  Milo shifted his weight and tapped ash from his pipe. “My family won’t mind,” he said. “I’m the third son of a third branch. They sent me here to see what I could make of myself. Walking with a prince would help my house rise, they’ll bless every step I take in that direction.”

  Malorn nodded. “And my family has always valued strength earned through real friendship and adventure. Elves live long lives, and it would be a few human lifetimes before my family would want me to be directly involved in political affairs. They told me to find a path that would sharpen me. This would do that.”

  Their words settled something inside me.

  Malorn met my gaze. “What’s the main risk right now?”

  “They don’t know for certain,” I said. “But they believe someone may try to make a move for the throne. Our part, at least in the beginning, would be to train and grow as a team. Whatever Sirius is stepping into, I’m not letting him face it alone. I’m going. And it would be an honor if you both came with me.”

  Milo’s grin stretched wider, brighter. “Well, I didn’t work this hard just to go home and run a shop. If a prince is potentially offering a real chance to grow, I’m not turning it down high-level commitment or otherwise.”

  Malorn’s silver eyes softened, steady as ever, and he nodded. “It’s agreed then. I’ll walk this road with you both.” He glanced toward Milo. “Though we may need to slow our pace a little so Milo doesn’t fall behind.”

  Milo flicked a pebble at him and Malorn dodged it with a quiet snort. The three of us laughed, the sound cutting through the tension that had been building since the ceremony ended.

  For a moment, the weight of what waited ahead felt a little lighter.

  Asher stepped forward then, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. “The crown has already paid for your escort. Horses, supplies, and passage are ready. When you’re prepared, we leave for Sirius.”

  Milo exhaled a slow breath. Malorn rested a hand on Fern’s back. I gripped the letter in my hand as Dusk sent me comfort through our bond.

  “Then we go,” I said.