Page 34 of The Fractured Veil

Still, it wasn’t the endless physical strain—or even the humiliation of falling short—that kept me up at night. It was the memory of Professor Lorian in the woods. His voice, low and reverent, addressing some unseenlord. I hadn’t seen anyone else there—just Lorian, speaking as though he was reporting on my progress.

At least, that’s what it had felt like at the time. But now, days later, nothing unusual has happened. No cryptic comments from him, no strange encounters. Maybe I’d imagined it. My mind playing tricks on me, warping his words into something sinister—something more than a simple conversation with himself.

And yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Lorian than he let on. Was it paranoia, fueled by my own insecurities and the pressure of being here? Or was he watching me for a reason, his gaze lingering a moment too long when he thought I wasn't looking?

Whatever it was, I had no proof. Just a nagging suspicion that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end whenever I was around him—whenever his voice boomed across the training grounds. Until something concrete happened, some solid evidence to support my fears, I had no choice but to push it aside and focus on surviving each relentless day.

All I could summon was a flickering, translucent shield—a fragile barrier shimmering around me. I supposed that was my unique ability, though it hardly felt impressive compared to the raw powers others wielded. A shield—a simple, defensive construct designed to protect me from harm. Not a dazzling display of offensive power, not a weapon to vanquish my enemies, just a simple shield. It was fine, I told myself, trying to ignore the rising tide of insecurities, especially considering I didn't have any magical gift at all just a few weeks ago. Still, the frustration persisted—a constant feeling of self-doubt.

Damon, the ever-critical and perpetually scowling Shadow Brother, had observed my clumsy attempts at shield conjuring for barely a minute before dismissing me entirely. His disapproving gaze—sharp as shards of ice—making my skin prickle with unease. He still treated me like I was the enemy—or worse, a bothersome inconvenience. A fragile human disrupting the carefully constructed world he shared with his brothers. The way his eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening almost instantly whenever I stepped into the training circle.

Zarek, on the other hand, was still his flirtatious self. His teasing smile—a flash of white against his tanned skin—and his sly comments, often whispered in my ear as he leaned in close, were becoming a staple of my day. The banter between us flowed effortlessly, a comfortable rhythm developing amidst the chaos of Nexara. And despite my better judgement, I found myself looking forward to it. He made me laugh—even when I didn’t want to. A genuine, carefree sound that surprised even me, and his charm, a potent mix of playful arrogance and genuine warmth, was beginning to wear me down. My usual sharp retorts—honed over years of solitude—were softening, losing their edge. And I hated that part of me almost liked the attention, the way his amber eyes lingered on me, the brush of his hand against mine.

But Nox—Nox had avoided me since the morning after training with them. I would catch glimpses of him across the grounds, his hood pulled low over his dark curls, his eyes never meeting mine—always averted, as if I was a stranger, someone he didn't know. It was like he had vanished into the shadows, blending seamlessly with the darkness that seemed to cling to the edges of the world. His presence felt like a ghost haunting my life at the academy. I couldn't stop replaying that moment—the way his emerald eyes had softened, the gentle, hesitant touch of his hand against mine. A spark igniting between us. A connection that felt both familiar and frightening. There was something there, but now it felt like he regretted it. Like he regrettedme.

The gnawing uncertainty clung to me as I sat on the training mats, watching the others spar. El was off in the distance, her fire blazing as she practiced with another student, her laughter carrying on the wind, bright and carefree. She was thriving here, her power evident in every flick of her wrist, every burst of flame. A vibrant contrast to the shadows that clung to me. I envied her—not her power, but her confidence. The way she embraced who she was, without hesitation or doubt. She seemed to fit in, while I felt like a misplaced piece of a puzzle, unsure where I belonged, or if I even belonged at all.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. The shadows beneath my fingers flickered, restless, responding to my frustration, swirling around me like curious spirits. I needed to figure this out—whatever I was meant to be here for. What purpose did I serve in this world of magic and power? The Wonders of Nexara is tomorrow, and here I was… already regretting signing up. The thought of displaying my… whateverthiswas, in front of the entire academy filled me with a sense of dread.

"Let's hope your shield can withstand the challenges—and thethreats," Mira sneered, her voice dripping with condescension, each word a venomous barb aimed at my vulnerabilities. She stood over me, her entourage flanking her like a pack of wolves, their predatory gazes adding to the intimidation. Her icy blue eyes held a glint of amusement, a cruel satisfaction in my apparent discomfort. Her blonde hair, catching the sunlight like a halo, only amplified the irony—her presence was anything but angelic.

I looked up, forcing myself to meet her gaze, refusing to cower. "I guess we'll find out, won't we?" I retorted, injecting a note of defiance into my voice, though my insides churned with a mixture of anger and apprehension. Mira had made it her personal mission to remind me of my shortcomings, her words cutting deeper than any blade, leaving invisible scars that ached with every encounter.

Her smile widened—a predator savoring the fear in its prey. "Oh, I'm sure we will," she purred, her voice laced with a faux sweetness that made my skin crawl. "Try not to embarrass yourself too much, Thalia." She paused, her eyes glittering with malice. "Wouldn't want to tarnish the academy's reputation with someone as...patheticas you."

Her cronies erupted in a chorus of snickers, their laughter echoing in my ears like a pack of hyenas reveling in a kill. They turned and walked away, their heads held high, their arrogance a suffocating presence that lingered in their wake.

I clenched my jaw, the shadows beneath my skin flickering with a restless energy, urging me to lash out—to unleash the power that simmered within me. But I forced myself to remain still, taking deep breaths, channeling the anger into a cold, sharp resolve. I would not give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.

El's voice called out from across the field, breaking through my thoughts. “Thalia! Are you coming?” She waved, her smile warm and encouraging. I pushed myself to my feet, brushing off the dirt and the lingering sting of Mira's words. I had to keep moving forward, no matter what Mira or anyone else thought. I wasn’t here to impress them; I was here to find my place, to uncover the truth of who I was.

“See you tomorrow, Firefly,” Zarek's voice carried across the training grounds, a soothing balm to my raw nerves. I turned to see his cheeky smile as he stood with his brothers, a familiar sight that brought a sense of comfort amidst the chaos.

Zarek leaned casually against a tree, his amber eyes shining as he watched me, a silent message of support passing between us. Damon and Nox stood beside him—Damon with his arms crossed, his usual brooding expression firmly in place, while Nox kept his gaze averted, his hood casting a shadow over his face, concealing the emotions that simmered beneath the surface.

Mira's eyes narrowed as she looked between him and me, her lips curling in distaste. Her hands clenched at her sides, her knuckles white against her skin, and I could practically see the smoke fuming from her nostrils. The tension in the air was palpable, her jealousy like a storm brewing on the horizon, threatening to unleash its fury. Despite myself, I couldn't help but smile—a wide grin that I directed straight at Mira.

Zarek’s smile widened at my reaction, and he gave me a playful wink, a spark of connection igniting between us. I felt a warmth spread through my chest, a flicker of reassurance that I desperately needed in that moment.

As Mira turned on her heel, her friends trailing behind her like obedient shadows, I caught sight of Nox. For a split second, his emerald-green eyes met mine, something flashing in his gaze—a flicker of vulnerability, of understanding—before he looked away, the hood of his sweatshirt falling back into place, shielding him once more. It was enough to send my heart pounding, a mix of emotions swirling within me—curiosity, confusion, and a strange, burgeoning sense of hope.

Chapter15

Thalia’s POV

The morning the Wonders of Nexara arrived, the air was so thick with tension, I could taste it. We had gathered in a large, empty hall, the walls lined with sleek, polished stone that seemed to absorb and amplify the nervous energy buzzing around us. Sunbeams, fractured by high, arched windows, cast long, geometric patterns across the floor, but they did little to dispel the gloom that clung to the edges of the room. Everyone was dressed in their Academy training gear, a uniform of black and deep navy. The tight clothes clung to my body like a second skin, making it hard to breathe. The long sleeves, fitted pants, and heavy, leather boots felt restrictive—each piece a reminder of what lay ahead. I tugged at the collar of my tunic, trying to loosen the fabric's grip around my throat.

I could feel the anticipation vibrating in the room—a collective mix of fear and excitement that settled deep in my bones, a tremor that resonated with my own apprehension. My palms were slick with sweat, despite the cool air of the hall. I glanced around, trying to gauge the expressions of my fellow classmates, searching for a flicker of reassurance, but found only mirrored reflections of my own unease.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Wonders of Nexara!" a voice boomed, echoing off the cold stone walls of the hall. We couldn't see the announcer or the audience, hidden behind some magical barrier, but the roar of the crowd filtered in through unseen speakers, making my pulse quicken with a nervous thrum. This was real—no more training mats or practice rounds against illusionary opponents. We were about to be dropped into the unknown: a simulated wilderness filled with magical creatures and perilous traps, with no weapons but our own nascent abilities. My stomach churned with a mixture of fear and a strange thrill.

A chill ran down my spine as I glanced around at the others, trying to discern some sense of camaraderie—a shared sense of impending doom. Elara stood beside me, a pillar of fiery resolve, her eyes narrowed in fierce determination, a faint shimmer of flame flickering at her fingertips like a warning. Zarek caught my eye from across the room, and he gave me one of his signature cocky smiles—a flash of white teeth, his amber eyes glinting with a reckless excitement that did little to ease my apprehension. Damon, predictably, was emotionless as always—a statue carved from shadow and indifference, his gaze focused straight ahead, as though he could already see through the veil separating us from the simulated world. Nox stood beside him, his hood down for once, revealing the dark curls of his hair and the sharp angles of his face. His expression was unreadable, his emerald-green eyes carefully avoiding mine, making me wonder what thoughts he had beneath that calm exterior. He seemed more withdrawn than usual, and the subtle shift in his demeanor only amplified my unease.

The ground beneath us shifted, and I stumbled, barely managing to regain my balance before falling flat on my face. The floor began to split apart, each section separating as if to send us in different directions—like some twisted game of chance. The uncertainty tightened around my throat, choking off my breath. We were being taken somewhere—somewhere we couldn't see, somewhere unfamiliar and undoubtedly dangerous. A shiver traced its way down my spine, a primal fear gripping me.

The disembodied voice returned, booming through the strange space. "Contestants, prepare yourselves. You will be dropped into the wilderness. Survive, overcome, and prove yourselves worthy." The words hung in the air, heavy with an unspoken threat. "You have only your skills, your instincts, and each other—if you dare to trust."Trust. A hollow laugh threatened to escape me. Trusting anyone—especially in this situation—felt like a fool's errand.

The ground beneath me gave way without warning, and I felt myself plummeting into the abyss. My stomach lurched, a sickening twist that sent bile rising in my throat. I clenched my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut, my hands scrabbling for something—anything—to hold on to. The wind roared in my ears, a deafening rush that drowned out all other sounds. Everything was a blur of color and noise, a chaotic kaleidoscope of sensations. I barely had time to register the rush of air before I hit the ground with a jarring thud, landing hard on my feet. My legs buckled slightly beneath the impact, but somehow, miraculously, I managed to stay upright.

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