The days after Enterprise Day were eerily quiet—and not the good kind.

  At first, having no classes seemed like a gift. Freedom! But by the second day, the novelty had worn off, leaving Seraphina, Thorne, and Alessa feeling more like awkward secrets shoved into a corner. The official directive? “Study independently.” The phrase didn’t feel like advice—it felt like a command, one they were too afraid to question but too confused to follow.

  Seraphina found herself in the studio most days, trying to focus, but the work felt hollow. The question haunted her: Why us? Even a trip to The Luminous Quill for supplies couldn’t shake it.

  The little shop had been a haven for her in the past—a place of warmth and quiet where she could escape her self doubt and stock up on art supplies. She hadn’t been there in weeks, and the familiar aroma of fresh paint greeted her as she stepped inside. Vibrant paintings adorned the windows, and the shelves were stocked with neatly organized pigments, brushes, and tools for crafting with cosmic energies.

  “Seraphina!” Solin greeted her warmly from behind the counter, though his eyes betrayed a hint of concern. “How’s the academy treating you?”

  “Fine,” she lied, her gaze darting to a folded piece of dark fabric on the counter. “Busy.”

  Solin hesitated.

  “We had a visitor asking about you.”

  Her heart skipped.

  “Me?”

  “A young woman. Polite, but… strange. She asked about the academy.”

  Maelis, his wife, who had been quietly restocking a shelf nearby, glanced up.

  “She said your work was impressive.” she said softly.

  Seraphina’s pulse quickened. Impressive? She forced a smile, though it felt more like a mask than a reassurance.

  Maelis stepped closer, her gaze thoughtful.

  “She left this,” she said, gently pushing the fabric toward Seraphina. “She called it a gift.”

  Seraphina's nerves were on edge as she took the fabric. She could feel Solin’s eyes on her, concern etched in the way his brow furrowed. The fabric felt wrong in her hands, like a tether to something she wasn’t ready to confront.

  “Thank you,” she muttered, though the words felt hollow. Without waiting for more, she bolted from the shop, the strange gift left behind.

  Meanwhile, Thorne’s frustration echoed through the Lumina Gardens. His lute felt foreign beneath his fingers, each note flat and out of sync with his thoughts. The silence around him pressed in, a constant reminder of the isolation that had begun to settle over him. His mentor, Professor Sylvorel, paced beside him, unbothered by the quiet.

  “Music is an extension of the self,” Sylvorel said, his eyes unwavering as he studied Thorne’s hands. “To master it, you must first master your mind.”

  Thorne clenched his jaw, another discordant note ringing out.

  “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be mastering, let alone how to control it.”

  Sylvorel raised an elegant brow.

  “Patience, Thorne. Focus. You don’t need to control everything. Start with intention. Clear your mind, and let the music flow.”

  Thorne took a breath, trying to still his hands, though the frustration thrummed beneath the surface.

  “It’s not that simple.”

  Sylvorel’s voice softened.

  “No, it isn’t. But the music will show you the way. Close your eyes. Let go of the noise.”

  Thorne did as instructed, his thoughts still racing, but the first steady note came, surprising him. Sylvorel gave a small smile.

  “Now you’re listening. You’ll find your balance. The rest will follow.”

  Later, Alessa sat in the library, her fingers tracing the constellations from Enterprise Day. The cool parchment felt distant under her touch. She had been at it for hours, but the pattern eluded her. It wasn’t the connections she couldn’t grasp—it was the space between.

  A shift in the air made her look up. Professor Astra was standing nearby, watching quietly.

  “Struggling?” Astra asked, her voice soft but knowing.

  Alessa didn’t answer immediately, her eyes flicking back to the parchment. “I can’t make sense of it. There’s a pattern, but…” Her voice trailed off.

  Astra's gaze lingered on the page. “Sometimes, the meaning is in the silence. In what’s not there.”

  Alessa blinked, her fingers pausing over the empty spaces between the stars. It was so simple, and yet it hadn't occurred to her. The gaps—they were just as important as the lines.

  Astra gave a slight nod, as if sensing the shift. “The stars don’t always speak directly. Listen to what they aren’t saying.”

  Alessa exhaled, the pieces beginning to fall into place. She wasn’t just tracing the connections. She was learning to see what lay in the spaces.

  By the third day of “independent study,” whispers followed Seraphina, Thorne, and Alessa at every turn. In the dining hall, Seraphina overheard fragments of conversation: “What did they do to get Stellaris’s attention like that?” … “No one else got a turn with the Cosmos Map. I bet I could’ve activated it…” … “Must’ve had some kind of inside help. Why else would Professor Stellaris keep them out of class?” She tried to ignore it, but each repeated whisper only deepened the sting.

  The courtyard was no better. Seraphina found Alessa and Thorne beneath the Luminis Tree, its crystalline branches casting dancing patterns of light on the cobblestones. A welcome sight, except they weren’t alone. Their classmate Ellian stood beside them, leaning casually against the tree with an expression that could’ve been pleasant—if it weren’t for the mocking edge in his voice.

  “Must be nice,” he said, his voice light but edged with something sharper. “Skipping the boring stuff while the rest of us sweat through star alignment theory.”

  Thorne stopped mid-strum, his brow furrowing.

  “Yeah, ‘special treatment’ feels great. Like wandering blindfolded while everyone else has a map.”

  Alessa didn’t even blink, her tone a perfect counterpoint to Ellian’s.

  “If you’re so envious, Ellian, take our spot. I’d trade your charts for cryptic riddles and isolation any day.”

  Ellian’s smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, pushing his point further.

  “I’m just passing along the chatter,” he said smoothly. “Enterprise Day, all the talk about how Stellaris picked you three out for something… special. Funny how none of the rest of us even got a turn with the Cosmos Map, huh?” His voice dropped, as if sharing an inside secret. “Must be nice, having inside help.”

  Thorne stiffened, setting his lute aside.

  “Inside help? We earned it. Just like we’ll earn everything else.”

  Seraphina felt Ellian’s words land like a slap, her fists clenching as a rush of heat surged through her chest. How dare he? She inhaled sharply, fighting to hold herself together, refusing to let him see how deeply his words had cut.

  She straightened, meeting his gaze with forced steadiness—before Alessa’s steady voice cut through the tension.

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  “You can’t stand seeing us succeed, can you?” she asked with a quiet finality, her gaze unflinching. “Go practice your glyphs, Ellian, before you embarrass yourself again.”

  Ellian hesitated, the usual bravado slipping for a brief moment. He gave a half-hearted bow, then turned away, his steps slower than usual, as though retreating into the shadows of his own insecurity.

  Seraphina watched him go, her shoulders tense. Her voice was soft, but cutting as she muttered,

  “Ellian’s not smart enough for this.”

  Alessa raised an eyebrow, her gaze flickering to Seraphina.

  “What do you mean?”

  Seraphina tightened her grip on her satchel, the faint hum of the relic inside grounding her.

  “It’s Umbra. She’s behind this. She’s been watching me. Even came to the shop.”

  Alessa’s expression darkened, a mixture of concern and anger.

  “And now she’s stirring up trouble here?”

  “I think so,” Seraphina replied, her voice steadier than she felt. “She knows something, and I need to find out what.”

  Thorne frowned, setting his lute aside with a soft thud.

  “You’re not actually thinking of going after her, are you? It’s a trap.”

  “I know,” Seraphina replied, her eyes flashing with a steely resolve. “But if I don’t act, it won’t stop.”

  Alessa’s voice softened, but there was a sharp edge to it.

  “We don’t even know what she wants. You can’t just walk into whatever game she’s playing.”

  Seraphina paused, her heart hammering in her chest. The weight of the decision pressed down on her, but she knew the path she had to take, even if it felt uncertain.

  “What choice do I have? If she’s not stopped, she’ll keep going. And maybe… maybe I can put an end to it.”

  “By yourself?” Thorne asked, disbelief creeping into his voice. “That’s not bravery—it’s reckless.”

  Seraphina felt the flicker of doubt again—just a flash, but enough to make her pause. She glanced down at her satchel, her fingers brushing against the relic’s warmth. It wasn’t the relic’s power that would carry her through, she knew that. It was her own strength—her own will. She wasn’t alone. Not really. But even so, the weight of her decision pressed down on her shoulders.

  Her gaze hardened, the moment of doubt slipping away as quickly as it came. She was already too far in.

  “Then stop me,” she challenged, her voice unwavering despite the tension that clung to her chest.

  The silence between them thickened. Alessa’s sigh broke it, a mix of frustration and resignation.

  “Fine. You’re impossible.” Her eyes narrowed, but her next words were spoken with quiet finality. “If you’re going, we’re coming too.”

  “No,” Seraphina said, her voice firm as she took a step back. “If something goes wrong, I don’t want you two to get into trouble.”

  Thorne crossed his arms, the lines of worry deepening on his face.

  “We’re stronger together, Seraphina. You know that.”

  Seraphina snapped, a little sharper than she intended,

  “I’m not arguing.” Then she softened, the weight of the situation settling in her chest. “I’ll meet you after. I promise.”

  Without waiting for a response, Seraphina turned and walked briskly away, the sound of her boots cutting through the grass. Umbra’s presence had threaded through every part of her life the past few days —if this was a trap, she was already walking straight into it. But with Lumos beside her, she found the strength to keep moving.

  Her mind raced. Where would Umbra be? Somewhere shadowed, where the light couldn’t reach. She rarely ventured outdoors, so the library seemed a likely place. It was the one spot in the Academy where she could hide in plain sight, cloaked in the gloom of knowledge.

  The library felt oppressive, quieter than usual. The hum of the Lumina Archives’ wards was barely a whisper, as if the space itself held its breath. The bookshelves stretched in every direction, glowing softly, their light doing little to cut through the heavy atmosphere.

  Seraphina instinctively moved toward the back of the library, each step heavier than the last, the tension in her chest thickening.

  There she was—Umbra, standing by the stained-glass window, light slipping around her like a living thing avoiding its shadow. She turned, a slow smile twisting her lips—sharp, knowing.

  "Couldn't stay away, could you?" Umbra's voice cut the silence, soft but slicing through it like a blade. "Curiosity—it’ll be your undoing."

  Seraphina’s hand tightened around her satchel, the relic’s warmth grounding her. She forced her voice steady.

  "What do you want from me?"

  Umbra's smile widened, predatory.

  "You're tangled in this. Can't you see it? So important... so tragic." She closed the distance between them, each step measured and deliberate. "It must be exhausting, pretending to be something you're not."

  A flicker of doubt pierced Seraphina's chest, sharp and fleeting. Her hand trembled at her side, but she squeezed it into a fist. No. She’s trying to rattle me. She drew a shaky breath, forcing the unease down.

  She straightened, but the motion was stiff, too quick. Her gaze dropped to the floor before meeting Umbra's again.

  "I'm not playing your games."

  "Oh, but you are." Umbra’s voice softened with mock sweetness. "You're desperate to prove yourself. Do you really think the professors are telling you everything? That they'd risk the Celestial Sanctum for you if they knew the truth?"

  Seraphina’s breath caught for a moment. What if they aren’t? What if…? She crushed the thought, jaw tightening.

  "What truth?"

  Umbra’s gaze pinned her, step by slow step, closing the space between them until it felt suffocating.

  "What truth?" she repeated, her voice low, mocking. "Just like her—desperate to believe you’re part of something bigger. Thirsty for approval"

  Umbra's voice dropped to a whisper, dark and curling like smoke.

  "You'll never be enough. Not for them. Not for yourself."

  Don’t let her see it. Don’t let her win. Seraphina clenched her fists, feeling the relic pulse at her side. It was an anchor against the storm of doubt. "You don’t know anything about me."

  Umbra’s smile twisted into something pitying, condescending.

  "Don’t I? I know all about you. How you’ve tried to fit in, only to fall short, while everyone else floats through effortlessly." She leaned in, her voice too close, low. "I know about that little spark of light you cling to, as if it’s what’s keeping you from falling apart."

  Seraphina’s breath hitched, sharp pain spiking in her chest, wisps of light began to appear around her. No, not now. She forced it down, her eyes narrowing. The relic pulsed again, a steady warmth at her side, urging her forward.

  "Want to know what’s really going on?" Umbra’s eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "Ask yourself why Ellian came to you. Think that was a coincidence?"

  Ellian. The pieces fell into place. The taunts. The jealousy. The subtle nudges. It was her.

  Umbra's smirk deepened.

  "Aha, you're sharper than you look. I sent him. A little whisper here, a nudge there. His envy was easy to play on." She leaned in, her breath chilling. "And he’s just the beginning. You have no idea what’s coming."

  Seraphina felt the power stir beneath her skin, crackling like electric heat. But it wasn’t enough to steady the tremor in her hands. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to breathe, to hold her ground. The relic burned against her side, a stubborn reminder of her strength.

  "You won’t get away with this," she said, her voice steadier now, though the doubt still clung to her like smoke.

  Umbra spread her hands, feigned innocence.

  "Get away with what? You don’t even understand what’s happening yet. But don’t worry, little star... you’ll find out soon enough."

  With a flick of her wrist, Umbra turned, slipping back into the shadows, leaving Seraphina standing alone. Her heart raced. Her mind spun. The weight of Umbra’s presence lingered like a shadow, leaving her adrift.

  “Seraphina!”

  Alessa’s voice echoed down the hall as she quickened her pace. Seraphina turned to see her and Thorne rounding the corner, their faces tight with concern.

  “I found her,” Seraphina said, her tone sharp. “Umbra’s behind everything—the rumours, Ellian, all of it. And she’s planning something, something tied to the Celestial Sanctum. We need to warn Headmistress Magdalene.”

  Alessa’s brow furrowed.

  “Umbra?” She exchanged a glance with Thorne. “How can you be sure?”

  Thorne’s gaze flicked to Seraphina, his usual ease gone.

  “What happened?” he asked, voice low and cautious.

  Before Seraphina could respond, the air shifted. A ripple of energy brushed past them, and the three of them froze as a figure emerged from the shadows.

  “Is this it?” Thorne murmured, his voice tight with a thread of fear.

  Professor Stellaris appeared, her midnight blue robes sweeping the floor as she stepped into the dim light. The soft glow of the pendulum at her waist cast shifting colours across the shelves. Her gaze swept over them, sharp and appraising.

  Seraphina’s pulse quickened, and she exchanged a brief, tense glance with Alessa and Thorne. The air between them felt heavier now, every breath thick with the weight of unspoken tension.

  “I see you’ve been busy,” Stellaris said, her voice calm but cutting. Her eyes lingered on Seraphina. “And reckless. I warned you about the light. Yet here you are, dancing on the edge of shadow.”

  Seraphina’s hands clenched at her sides, the words caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted.

  “We don’t have time for this,” Stellaris said, her tone firm. “Follow me. There’s much you need to understand before we can move forward.”

  She turned and started toward her office. Her robes brushed the floor, every movement deliberate and commanding. The three of them exchanged a glance before following her in silence, their steps muted on the stone floor.