Draven:

  The sky had broken.

  I hadn’t dreamed it. I hadn’t imagined it.

  The tear had been real.

  And yet—

  Evermere continued on as if nothing had happened.

  The streets moved as they always did. The markets still opened, the bells still tolled, the city still breathed. The same people walked the same roads with the same steady rhythm that had existed for centuries.

  No one looked up.

  No one spoke of the sky, or the colors that bled through its wounds.

  But the bell had tolled twice now.

  The first had been an error. A mistake. An anomaly.

  The second—

  The second had shattered the heavens.

  I sat at the edge of my bed, my hands loosely clasped together, my mind turning over the same thoughts again and again.

  Nothing had changed.

  And yet everything had.

  I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair.

  I needed to move. I needed answers.

  Because if the pattern held—

  The third toll was coming.

  And I had no idea what it would bring.

  I stood, stretching the stiffness from my limbs. My body still felt weighed down, but it wasn’t just exhaustion—it was something deeper. A heaviness that shouldn’t have been there.

  I moved to the window and pushed the curtain aside.

  Evermere was the same.

  People filled the streets below, moving in that familiar rhythm. Merchants unpacked their wares, scholars drifted toward the library, apprentices rushed to their morning duties. The scent of fresh bread curled through the air, mixing with the ever-present bite of ink and parchment.

  It was normal.

  And yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was looking at something dying.

  Like a perfect painting left untouched for centuries—only now, the edges were starting to crack.

  My fingers tensed against the windowsill.

  I had spent my entire life within these walls. I knew the order of things. The pace of the city. The steady, unbroken pattern of the bells, the shifting of the guards, the flow of people through Evermere’s veins.

  And now—

  That rhythm was unraveling.

  It wasn’t obvious yet. Not to them.

  But I felt it.

  Something had shifted beneath the surface.

  And I had no idea how to stop it.

  I let the curtain fall back into place.

  Standing here, watching the city pretend everything was fine, wouldn’t change anything.

  I needed to move.

  The air inside the house felt heavier than it should have, thick with the absence of my parents. They hadn’t been here when I woke up. No note. No sign that they had even returned last night.

  I ran a hand down my face, pushing away the lingering exhaustion.

  I needed to do something. Find Selene and Alaric. Go to the library. Anything to quiet the thoughts clawing at the edges of my mind.

  I grabbed my cloak, fastening it with steady fingers, and stepped toward the door. The weight of it settled against my shoulders, grounding me.

  One breath. Then another.

  I pushed open the door and stepped outside.

  The city welcomed me with open arms.

  As if nothing had changed.

  The moment I stepped outside, the city swallowed me whole.

  The sounds of Evermere layered over one another—merchants haggling, the distant clang of a blacksmith’s hammer, the rhythmic hum of everyday life. The scent of fresh bread and spiced tea curled through the air, mingling with the sharper bite of ink and parchment from the academy halls.

  It was the same city.

  But I wasn’t moving through it the same way.

  My steps were quicker, my pulse just slightly elevated. My senses stretched too far, catching details that shouldn’t have mattered—shadows shifting where they shouldn’t, movements at the edges of my vision that disappeared when I turned my head.

  It was just exhaustion.

  Or maybe it wasn’t.

  I turned down a familiar street, my pace picking up—

  Then I felt it.

  A gaze.

  Heavy. Unshifting.

  Watching.

  I didn’t stop walking. I didn’t turn my head.

  But I knew—

  Someone was there.

  I kept my stride even.

  Whoever was watching me—if someone was watching me—I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me react.

  The city had eyes everywhere. Not just guards, not just merchants peering from their stalls—something else. Something woven into the very streets.

  I turned another corner, deeper into the city, letting the familiar roads steady me.

  But the feeling didn’t fade.

  If anything, it deepened.

  A pressure at my back. A quiet certainty that my movements weren’t just my own anymore.

  My breath stayed measured, my hands steady at my sides. I kept moving.

  Then—

  Voices.

  Low. Murmured.

  Coming from up ahead.

  Not directed at me. Not yet.

  But something about them made me listen.

  I slowed my steps.

  Not enough to draw attention—just enough to listen.

  The voices came from a narrow alley ahead, tucked between two older buildings where the stone walls curved inward, damp and shadowed. It was the kind of place people used to speak in hushed tones, where words weren’t meant to reach the open streets.

  “…too soon,” one of them muttered. Their voice was rough, edged with frustration.

  A second voice, lower, steadier. “The second toll wasn’t supposed to come this quickly.”

  A shiver traced its way up my spine.

  The bells.

  I kept my pace even, casual, moving along the street as though I hadn’t heard anything. But my mind raced.

  They knew.

  Whoever they were, they knew.

  I glanced toward the alley without turning my head.

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  Two figures. Faces obscured by the shadows, close enough that I caught glimpses of movement—folded arms, a shift of weight. Neither of them wore guard colors.

  A third toll was coming.

  They knew that too.

  I had heard enough.

  I kept walking.

  Then—

  One of them moved.

  And I felt their eyes snap to me.

  I didn’t look back.

  Didn’t slow down.

  But I felt their gaze, heavy against my spine, pressing into the space between my shoulders.

  For a moment, the city’s noise dimmed—muted beneath the quiet weight of being seen.

  Then the street swallowed me again.

  I turned the next corner, forcing my thoughts into order.

  They had been talking about the bells. About the second toll. That wasn’t ordinary. No one spoke about the bells like that—at least, not openly.

  And yet, those two had.

  Like they understood what was happening.

  Like they expected it.

  I exhaled slowly, loosening the tension in my fingers.

  I needed to find Selene and Alaric.

  I needed to know if I was the only one who had heard that.

  I kept moving.

  The market wasn’t far, and if I knew Alaric, he was probably hovering around one of the food stalls, charming his way into free samples.

  I cut through the side streets, my steps quicker now. The weight of the overheard conversation still pressed against my thoughts, looping over and over—their words, the way they hadn’t sounded surprised, the certainty in their voices.

  The bells weren’t just a mistake.

  I had known that already.

  But now, other people knew.

  And that changed everything.

  The crowd thickened as I reached the marketplace, the air filled with the scent of roasting nuts and fresh bread. I scanned the stalls, my pulse still elevated, eyes moving too quickly, searching—

  Then, a familiar voice.

  “Draven!”

  I barely had time to react before an arm slung itself over my shoulder.

  Alaric.

  I exhaled, tension unspooling just slightly—until I caught the look on Selene’s face.

  Serious. Focused.

  She was already watching me.

  As if she knew.

  Alaric grinned, giving my shoulder a shake. “Finally. You have no idea how hard it’s been keeping her from hunting you down like a bloodhound.”

  Selene ignored him. “Where have you been?”

  I hesitated.

  I could have lied. Said I’d just been wandering. That I needed time to think. That I wasn’t standing in the middle of an alley hearing things I shouldn’t have heard.

  But I could see it in her eyes—she wouldn’t believe me anyway.

  Alaric let go, stepping around to face me properly. “Come on. You vanish after everything that happened yesterday, and now you’re looking like you haven’t slept in a month. Don’t tell me it’s nothing.”

  I sighed, rolling my shoulders. “I needed to clear my head.”

  Selene’s stare didn’t waver. “And?”

  “And I could use a distraction,” I muttered.

  Alaric smirked. “Now you’re talking.”

  But Selene wasn’t smiling.

  Instead, she exhaled, crossing her arms. “Draven. We need to talk.”

  I tensed.

  She wasn’t making a suggestion.

  She was giving me a warning.

  I held her gaze, my jaw tightening.

  Alaric shifted beside me, running a hand through his hair. “Look, you know we don’t usually push. You want to keep secrets? Fine. You want to disappear for hours? Sure. But after yesterday?” His voice lost its usual lightness. “Not this time.”

  Selene nodded, her tone even. “We’ve been watching you.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  Alaric shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Don’t look so shocked. You think we wouldn’t notice? You’ve been off for a while now, Draven.”

  Selene’s expression was unreadable. “And it’s getting worse.”

  I clenched my fists. “You’re exaggerating.”

  “No,” she said. “We’re not.”

  A weight settled in my chest.

  I expected them to be suspicious—I wasn’t stupid—but hearing it out loud, knowing they’d been waiting for me to slip up…

  That was different.

  The air around us felt stretched thin. The usual noise of the market hummed in the background, but it felt distant, like a layer of reality that didn’t fully reach me.

  Selene took a step closer. “So tell us. What’s going on?”

  I exhaled slowly.

  I didn’t have an answer.

  Or maybe I just didn’t want to say it.

  I glanced between them.

  Selene—sharp, unwavering, waiting for an answer she wouldn’t let me avoid.

  Alaric—tense, uncharacteristically serious, watching me like I might do something if they pressed too hard.

  The weight in my chest curled tighter.

  I wanted to tell them something. That I felt like I was slipping, that I’d heard people talking about the bells, that I had seen—done—things I couldn’t explain.

  But the words tangled before they could leave my mouth.

  “Draven.” Selene’s voice was softer now. “Just tell us the truth.”

  I swallowed. My pulse was too fast. The air felt thinner.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  “I—”

  The world pressed in.

  The weight. The bells. The feeling that I didn’t belong here.

  My thoughts snapped.

  “I don’t belong here!”

  The words ripped out of me, too loud, too raw—before I could stop them.

  Then—

  Everything shattered.

  The world cracked apart.

  The street. The sky. The air itself—gone.

  In its place—

  A flood.

  Images slammed into me, too fast to track, too fragmented to make sense of. Shapes twisted, shifting between moments that shouldn’t exist, places I had never seen, colors that didn’t belong to this world.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  I wasn’t here.

  I was somewhere else.

  A voice slipped through the chaos—low, steady, inevitable.

  "You never did."

  My stomach turned.

  The visions surged faster, pulling me under, dragging me through something vast, endless, wrong.

  I gasped, trying to steady myself—trying to pull free—

  Then—

  Darkness.

  Cold metal bit into my wrists.

  The world snapped back into focus—too sudden, too sharp. My body ached, my thoughts lagging behind reality, my breath still coming too fast.

  Stone beneath me. The murmuring of voices. A weight pressing into my skin—

  Handcuffs.

  I was restrained.

  The noise around me settled into shape. A crowd. Dozens of faces, blurred at the edges, watching.

  Some looked surprised. Confused. Like they weren’t sure what they had just seen.

  Others—

  A smaller number—

  Looked afraid.

  My stomach twisted.

  I swallowed hard, forcing my voice steady. “What… what happened?”

  No one answered at first.

  Then—

  A guard stepped forward, their expression grim. “You’re under arrest.”

  I exhaled shakily. “For what?”

  Another pause. Then, the answer.

  “You killed a man.”

  I stared at them.

  The words didn't register at first. They couldn't.

  I killed someone?

  I shook my head, my pulse hammering. "That’s—no. I didn’t—"

  The guard didn’t flinch. "Elias Rhyne. Civilian. No real reputation." Their voice was flat, businesslike, as if stating a fact, not an accusation. "You also killed some of ours when they attempted to detain you."

  The ground felt unsteady beneath me.

  Elias Rhyne.

  The name didn’t feel real.

  But I knew it.

  The alley. The way he looked at me. The pressure in the air, the way the world twisted.

  But I hadn't—

  Had I?

  My breath came in shallow, uneven gasps.

  I tried to force my mind through the fog, to make sense of what they were saying, to prove them wrong—

  "I'll show you."

  The voice slid into my head, curling around my thoughts like it had always been there, waiting.

  Then—

  The vision hit.

  The vision tore through me.

  Flashes of red.

  The alley—Elias standing there, unflinching, watching me even as something in the air curled inward, as if the world itself was bending around us.

  Then—

  His body twisting.

  Dark eyes widening—just for a second—before I reached for him.

  Not with my hands.

  With something else.

  The moment snapped apart.

  Guards. Shouting. Weapons drawn, hesitation flickering in their eyes, they didn’t know what they were dealing with—

  Then I moved.

  Too fast. Too precise.

  A blade through a throat. A body hitting the ground. Another—twisting, breaking, collapsing before they could even react.

  Their blood on my hands.

  On the walls.

  On the stone beneath my feet.

  The vision shattered.

  I barely had time to register it—barely had time to breathe—before my stomach lurched.

  I doubled over, retching onto the ground.

  Someone in the crowd gasped.

  The guards stepped back—only slightly. Their grip on me stayed firm, but there was something else now. Caution. As if they weren’t entirely sure if it was over.

  I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, my limbs trembling.

  I had done it.

  I didn’t know how.

  I didn’t know why.

  But the truth sat in my gut like poison.

  And I had never felt sicker in my life.

  The world around me felt distant.

  The weight of the cuffs. The murmur of the crowd. The wary, unspoken fear in the way the guards held me.

  None of it felt real.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, inhaling through my nose. My body was still shaking, my stomach twisting, but I forced the bile down. Forced myself to stay upright.

  I had to think.

  Had to—

  But my mind wouldn’t catch up.

  The vision wasn’t a hallucination. It wasn’t a lie. I had felt it. The air bending, my own movements—detached, inevitable.

  I had killed Elias Rhyne.

  I had killed the guards who tried to stop me.

  And I had no memory of doing it.

  I swallowed, my throat raw. The crowd was still watching, waiting for me to say something. To explain.

  But what was I supposed to say?

  I didn’t know what was happening to me.

  I didn’t know who—or what—I was becoming.

  A heavy hand clamped down on my shoulder.

  I barely reacted.

  I still wasn’t fully here. The weight of the vision—of the blood, the bodies, the absolute certainty that I had done something irreversible—pressed against me like a vice.

  “You’re coming with us.” The older guard’s voice was steady, but there was something underneath it now. Not just authority. Not just the cold professionalism of someone doing their job.

  Caution.

  Like he thought I might do it again.

  I swallowed down the dryness in my throat. My fingers curled instinctively, but the cuffs held firm, the bite of iron grounding me back in my body.

  I forced my breath steady.

  I wasn’t going to do anything.

  I couldn’t do anything.

  I didn’t even know what I had done in the first place.

  The guards must have taken my silence as compliance because the grip on my shoulder tightened, guiding me forward. The crowd parted slightly, whispers moving through them like a low wind.

  I didn’t meet their eyes.

  I just walked.

  One step. Then another.

  Each one carrying me toward whatever awaited me next.

  Alaric:

  Draven wasn’t human.

  The thought had been rattling in my skull since the moment I saw him collapse. Since the moment he flickered. Since the moment he was dragged away in chains.

  It wasn’t just fear. It wasn’t paranoia. It was the truth.

  And it was driving me insane.

  I paced the length of the room, running a hand through my hair, my heartbeat loud in my ears.

  Selene sat at the table, arms crossed, watching me with the patience of someone who had already given up on talking sense into me. “Alaric.”

  I ignored her.

  Draven had done something. We didn’t see it happen, but we saw the aftermath. The blood. The bodies. The way the guards looked at him like he wasn’t even a person anymore.

  They had reason to be afraid.

  So did we.

  But I didn’t know what I was more afraid of—that Draven had changed, or that he had never been one of us to begin with.

  Selene sighed. “You need to breathe.”

  I shot her a glare. “I am breathing.”

  “Barely.”

  I exhaled sharply, trying to shove the thoughts back into order.

  This was Draven. The same person we had known for years. The same quiet, brooding, infuriatingly unreadable friend who spent more time in books than in reality.

  But was that ever real?

  Had we just been blind to what he was all along?

  I squeezed my fists, jaw clenched tight. Stop. You’re spiraling.

  This wasn’t helping. None of this was helping.

  I needed to step back. To think.

  I needed—

  A flicker of movement caught my eye.

  My stomach dropped.

  I turned toward the window—

  And the sky had split open.

  A jagged wound stretched across the heavens, bleeding colors that shouldn’t exist, flickering in and out of focus like something was trying to push its way through.

  I had been right.

  It wasn’t just Draven.

  Something bigger was coming apart.

  And I wasn’t sure if Evermere—or any of us—would survive it.

  ???:

  Alaric couldn’t move.

  He wanted to tear his gaze away from the sky, to not see what was happening, to reject the twisting, shifting wound in the heavens as something impossible—

  But it was there.

  And so was the fear sinking into his bones.

  He thought of Draven.

  Draven, flickering between something else and the person they thought they knew. Draven, standing in the middle of the street, bound in chains, his face pale, his eyes hollow. Draven, accused of murder—no, confirmed as a murderer, and yet looking just as lost as they were.

  Alaric clenched his fists.

  Maybe they had been blind.

  Maybe they had ignored the signs for too long, convincing themselves that Draven was just different. Just strange.

  But the city had been whispering it all along.

  Draven didn’t belong here.

  And now, Evermere itself was coming undone.

  He exhaled, the breath shaky.

  Selene had gone still beside him. He could feel the weight of her silence.

  Neither of them spoke.

  Because neither of them had words for what they were seeing.

  Outside, the city carried on, oblivious.

  But Alaric knew—

  The third toll was coming.

  And this time, Evermere wouldn’t be able to pretend it was nothing.