Anabel dropped the mug with a practiced thud, foam spilling over the rim, and leaned in just enough to show a hint of skin above her corset and that familiar, sly curve of her mouth. The little rusted sword pendant around her neck tapped against the glass as she straightened up and turned to deal with some drunk flailing near the hearth.

  Kael took a long drink.

  The ale tasted like shit- flat, cheap, and too warm. Usually, he liked it that way, but tonight, it just tasted bad. It wasn’t just the fact he’d been expelled, that part, he could deal with. Maybe he’d even seen it coming or at least should have, realistically he was lucky the academy wanted to keep everything under wraps otherwise he may be serving some serious time in a cell. The timing of it all — that’s what gutted him. It’s what left him struggling to breathe properly.

  The Academy didn’t test Affinities lightly. They used complicated stuff — multi-layered Spiral lattices and materials that most street mages couldn’t even pronounce, let alone get their hands on. It wasn’t even a power thing, a mage at the six circle higher than many of his professors would be lucky to score a crystal prism test — maybe get a read on eight Affinities if the stars aligned and most of those would likely just be elemental readings. Resources were controlled and restricted leaving most who couldn’t afford or be accepted to the academy guessing on their future.

  But the Aetherian Test?

  It laid everything bare. Your whole Spiral is mapped out. Dozens of Affinities, half of which barely received a footnote in their textbooks as they rarely manifested after The Shattering. The full results were sealed until your last year, revealed during the Third Ring Rite — a rite-of-passage and a graduation moment. They kept it hidden so students didn’t coast or skip the basics.

  And the release was next week.

  Kael stared into his mug, then slammed it down harder than he meant to. Foam spilled over the edge and soaked the table. A few people glanced his way. He didn’t care.

  “You good?”

  Anabel’s voice cut through the fog. She stood at his table now, one hand on her hip, the other holding a rag she clearly had no intention of using.

  Kael leaned back, throat raw. “I’m not an Academy student anymore.”

  She blinked once.

  “Need a place to stay?” she asked.

  Something flickered in her eyes — not pity—just a quick calculation. Anabel had always been better than anyone at sizing people up.

  He hesitated, thumb brushing the rim of his glass.

  “Listen, Ana, I’m sor—”

  “Shut the fuck up before I change my mind.”

  She didn’t say it to be mean. Just flat. Like telling someone to wipe their feet before walking in.

  Kael blinked. She didn’t wait for him to respond.

  “Put your stuff upstairs,” she said, already turning away. “Room’s open. You know which one. Don’t lock it from the inside — the hinge is busted.”

  Then, over her shoulder: “When you come back down, there’ll be another drink waiting. Stronger. Don’t slam it this time. I’m not cleaning up your sad-ass feelings off the floor or the table for that matter.”

  Kael let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding. He grabbed his bag and stood up, body sore from the tension he hadn’t let show until now. At the stairs, he paused. Just for a second, he caught a glimpse of her leaning over to grab another bottle, red hair glowing in the candlelight. She didn’t look his way.

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  Later that night, Kael sat cross-legged on the uneven floor, a low candle flickering beside him. His coat was crumpled on the chair, shirt half-open, hands on his knees. His fingers twitched slightly as mana pulsed through the well-developed channels under his skin. Anabel was passed out, soundly sleeping in the bed.

  Circuit training wasn’t flashy. Hell, only another mage could even tell you were doing it. But for Kael, right now it was the only thing that still made him feel like a mage. The magic moved through him — a steady, quiet heat pressing and sliding across his chest and across his arms like a slow, simmering fever.

  Downstairs, the noise of the inn drifted up through the door — muffled laughter, the creak of old wood under drunk feet. It was the kind of noise that made you feel like things were still okay.

  Three days. That’s how long Kael stayed holed up — running circuits, going over every name he could still count on, every favor he hadn’t cashed in yet.

  Not many of his so-called friends and former classmates would show their faces at the Horde. But his real friends were too broke for the fancy uptown taverns dripping with crystals. That had always been his crowd — misfits and naturals, the ones with raw talent. The ones the noble kids cheated off, borrowed spells from, and whispered about but never truly included.

  Wade Lorrin had been the best of them.

  Smooth talker. Good-looking in a way that looked unintentional, the only thing Kael had on him was a bit of height and a noble title. Wade came from a merchant family who made their bread by selling medicinal products from Kharan to Elias. Kael brought him in early before the stim business even kicked off. They met in one of their classes as the professor had paired them up for combat practice. Wade handled the deals and brought in clients, most people tended to like Wade much more than Kael.

  And when it all collapsed, Kael could’ve taken him down too. But he didn’t, because his word was still his word. The last thing left from his family that he couldn’t shake no matter how hard he wanted.

  He shifted the mana flow through his arms, slow and steady. A knock broke the silence. Three short, one long. Kael knew it instantly. Their old signal — from sneaking into the kitchens back in the first year.

  He stood up, let out a long breath, and opened the door.

  Wade stood there, same crooked grin, silver hoop in his ear. But his eyes were sharp, and when he saw Kael, the grin faded a little.

  “Holy shit,” Wade said. “You’re actually alive.”

  Kael raised an eyebrow. “Disappointed?”

  Wade laughed under his breath and stepped in, giving the room a once-over. “Anabel said you were up here, thought maybe I’d finally get a chance with her. Anyways figured you’d be halfway to the Wastes or rotting in a dungeon somewhere.”

  “Thought about it,” Kael said, closing the door behind him.

  Wade turned serious. “They said it got ugly. That you were caught with Ghostpedal, names, the works.”

  Kael spread his hands. “And yet… no shackles. No grave. They wanted to keep it under wraps. You know the names that we sold to, kicking one of them out of the school would stop damn near every donation the school gets.”

  Wade let out a low whistle and sat on the edge of the bed. “Academy was chaos for two days. Then Affinity pulls started and no one gave a shit anymore.”

  Kael nodded. Of course. Scandals didn’t last especially for fourth years right before graduation. Everyone would’ve been high on their own potential. His name? Already forgotten.

  “You get yours?” Kael asked.

  Wade’s grin came back, bigger this time. “Was one of the first to go. Air Mage.” He tapped his chest. “It's not much of a choice really, pretty mediocre in the rest. Not top-tier, but damn close.”

  Kael gave a small smile. “Nice.”

  Wade leaned in. “You didn’t, though… did you?”

  Kael didn’t answer.

  Wade’s eyes narrowed. “They really kicked you out before the rite?”

  “Three days before,” Kael said. “I never got to see the file.”

  Wade swore softly. “That’s cold, man. You worked harder than anyone. Even when we were running jobs, you were still up late studying spell theory in the dark.”

  Kael nodded, slowly. “That’s why you’re here.”

  Wade tilted his head. “You want your file.”

  “Need it,” Kael said.

  Wade rubbed the back of his neck. “Damn.”

  “I know it’s a big ask,” Kael said, voice low. “But you get why I need it.”

  “You sure it’s still there?”

  Kael shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

  Wade leaned back, blowing out a breath. “You realize how screwed I’d be if they catch me—”

  “You’d be expelled,” Kael cut in. “Same as me. Only difference? I had the chance to name names. I didn’t.”

  Wade flinched.

  Kael let the silence stretch. Wade was a good friend of Kael and they certainly were each other's best friend in the academy but neither of them were under the illusion that they were good people, or willing to die for one another.

  “You owe me, Wade. Just this one. I won’t ask again.”

  Wade looked at him for a long moment, then let out a sharp sigh punching Kael in the shoulder.

  “Shit, man. I really thought you were dead.”

  Kael’s smile barely touched his lips. “Not yet.”

  Wade stood up, dusting off his coat. “Alright. I’ll get you your damn file.”