THE AETHERBORN

The moment Thorne waved her over, the hallway seemed to ripple. Conversations faltered. A few students instinctively stepped out of her path, while others lingered and whispered behind hands.

The tall darkling girl crossed the space slowly, each step measured. Her silver-white hair caught the light like spun moonlight, her obsidian skin veined with molten gold that pulsed faintly with her heartbeat. The crown-like ridges on her brow gave her the air of someone carved for ceremony.

You called for me, a calm, deliberate voice slid into Thorne's mind.

"I did," he answered aloud, ignoring the flickers of discomfort from nearby students who couldn't hear her but could see her watching him. "Your projection work was… impressive."

She stopped a pace away. It was functional, she said, only to him.

Elias leaned toward Thorne. "Uh… who's your tall, slightly terrifying new friend?"

Before Thorne could answer, her voice flowed into Elias's head as well. I am not his friend.

Elias straightened so fast he nearly dropped his staff. "She's in my head..."

"And mine," Amira said lightly, though her gaze was sharper now, her smile thinner.

The girl's eyes moved to her. Only because you wished to be acknowledged.

Elias blinked at her, then at Thorne. "She's... wait, are you?"

"She's speaking directly to your mind," Thorne supplied with a faint smirk. "Don't look so rattled. She's not prying through your thoughts."

I could, Nyssha added, not unkindly.

Elias's expression went stiff. "Not helping."

Amira's smile never faltered, but her eyes had narrowed by a fraction, just enough for Thorne to notice. Her jewelry gave a faint chime as she shifted her stance. "Then perhaps I should return the courtesy. I'm Amira Nahir, Princess of the Emerald Sands."

The darkling inclined her head slightly. Nyssha. Of the Hollow Veins. She let the name settle in all their minds at once before narrowing the focus back to Thorne alone. Why did you call me?

"Because you impressed me," Thorne said. "And I thought you might want to make some friends."

I do not.

"See?" Elias said, half-grinning. "A sensible person."

Thorne tilted his head. "Still, you should meet people. The right people."

Nyssha studied him for a long moment, then her gaze flicked toward Amira. This one works very hard to be the right kind of person for you.

That earned the faintest twitch at the corner of Thorne's mouth. "You noticed too?"

Amira's jewelry chimed softly as she shifted her weight, her voice velvet-smooth. "Your friend has a sharp eye. Or… sharp instincts."

Nyssha didn't blink. Both.

The half-dozen ladies-in-waiting behind Amira were watching like this was the best entertainment they'd had all week, muffled giggles escaping between exchanged glances.

"That's a shame," Elias put in, trying for levity. "This is prime social time."

Nyssha's gaze flicked to him. You speak too much for the amount of sense you make.

Elias blinked. "Wow. Brutal."

Thorne hid a smirk. "There's a party coming up," he said to Nyssha. "Would you consider attending?"

I do not drink. I do not dance. Crowds waste air.

"That's fine," Thorne said. "You could stand in the corner and make everyone nervous. I'd consider that a service."

For the first time, the molten lines along her skin pulsed in a rhythm that wasn't quite steady, amusement, maybe. That… I could do.

Amira stepped slightly closer to Thorne, tilting her head so her words seemed meant only for him. "You didn't tell me your guest list would include the rarest woman in the room."

"Didn't know until a moment ago, I think I should have the freedom to bring… unexpected guests. That way it's more interesting for everyone." Thorne replied with a casual shrug.

"Then you'll both come?" she asked, raising her voice just enough for the ladies-in-waiting to hear.

"I already told you," Thorne said smoothly, "I'll come if I can bring my guests."

"You can bring whoever you wish." She replied with a tight smile.

"Even an elf who irritates half the school?" He gestured toward Elias.

Amira smiled without hesitation. "Even him."

"Even her?" His glance flicked to Nyssha.

There was the faintest pause, barely perceptible, but real. Then Amira inclined her head. "If she wishes."

Nyssha's reply came only to Thorne: You like testing people.

"Guilty," he murmured.

Behind them, the hallway noise swelled as more students filed past, some openly staring, others turning away quickly. The tension in the air clung like static. Thorne found he didn't mind at all.

Amira lingered just long enough to let the silence stretch, her smile still perfectly in place. Then she dipped her head in a final, elegant nod.

"I'll see you both at the party," she said, her tone smoothing over the faint pause on "both."

With that, she turned and swept away, her half-dozen ladies-in-waiting following in a rustle of silk and faint perfume, their muffled laughter trailing behind them like ribbons.

The moment they were out of earshot, Elias blew out a breath. "Well, that wasn't tense at all. Nope. Perfectly normal conversation between perfectly normal people."

Thorne started toward the next staircase, Nyssha falling into step on his other side. The shifting steps adjusted underfoot, ferrying them upward toward the next tier of classrooms.

Nyssha's gaze remained ahead. You used me.

Elias stumbled a little. "Wow. Straight to it, huh?"

It was obvious, she continued, her voice threading into Thorne's mind alone at first, then expanding so Elias could hear as well. You brought me into her line of sight to unsettle her. You knew my presence would create a ripple in the crowd, and you wanted her to pretend it didn't.

Thorne didn't slow his pace. "Correct."

"You're just going to admit that?" Elias asked, eyebrows raised.

"Why not?" Thorne glanced at Nyssha. "It worked. She didn't flinch, but she had to think about not flinching. And everyone watching saw that."

So it was a show of power, Nyssha said. Not accusing. Simply stating.

"Not just power," Thorne said. "Leverage. It's one thing for her to charm me. It's another for her to accept whoever I bring into her circle without question. Now I know she's willing to bend further than she wants people to think."

Elias let out a low whistle. "And here I was just impressed you managed to make both of them look like they were in your orbit instead of the other way around."

Nyssha's golden veins pulsed faintly. You plan too many steps ahead for a student.

"Habit," Thorne said simply. "Old one. I don't like being the one caught off guard."

Elias grinned. "And here I thought we were just walking to class. Turns out you're out here waging social warfare between lectures."

It's effective, Nyssha said.

"Thank you," Thorne replied, his tone dry.

Elias pointed between the two of them. "Okay, but this, this back-and-forth? It's terrifying. You're both speaking in that 'we know things' tone, and I'm the poor idiot here for color commentary."

Nyssha looked at him, her candle-flame eyes warm but distant. You're useful. People underestimate the ones who talk too much.

Elias blinked. "Was… was that a compliment?"

Yes.

"Well." Elias straightened a little. "Guess I'm keeping you."

They reached the landing, the steps beneath them folding away to form another path for the next group. The three of them moved on together, Nyssha reserved but attentive, Thorne quietly assessing, and Elias filling the air with easy, irreverent chatter.

It wasn't a plan or a pact, but it felt… balanced.

The staircase deposited them into the open air of the courtyard. The midday light was warm but not harsh, dappling through the high-boughed trees that framed the stone paths. Students crossed in every direction, robes swaying, books under arms, conversations blending into a low, constant hum.

Thorne adjusted his stride toward the buildings on the western edge, where the Alchemy wing waited. Beside him, Elias and Nyssha angled toward the opposite colonnade that led to the Magical Beasts & Aether Creatures lecture halls.

"So," Elias said, glancing at Nyssha, "what's on the menu in your next class? Another oversized cat with too many teeth?"

Nyssha's gaze didn't shift from the path ahead. No. This week's study specimen is the frost-hollow wyrmling. Juvenile stage. Length: two and a half meters, wingspan one point seven meters. Primary habitat: upper tundra ridges. Aether signature: cryo-aligned with minor mirage bleed.

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

Elias blinked. "Okay, slow down..."

Distinguishing features, she continued, as if reading from an invisible record: feathered wing edges tipped in ice crystal, translucent scales over the ribcage, two forward horn spurs. Breath range: approximately four meters, producing both frostbite and temporary visual distortion. Feeding pattern: predatory scavenger, prefers already-weakened prey.

Thorne found himself looking at her. "You remember all that from…?"

From the professor's first five minutes last lesson, Nyssha said.

Elias let out a low whistle. "I mean, I try to pay attention, but I'm usually just hoping the thing won't eat me."

Nyssha finally glanced between them. I don't forget. It's my affinity, memory magic.

That pulled Thorne up short. "Everything?"

Everything. She tapped her temple lightly. Spoken word, written script, the way someone shifts their stance when they lie, it's all there. Every moment I've lived is catalogued, perfect and clear.

Elias grinned. "That's either amazing or terrifying."

Both, Nyssha replied. Then she turned to Thorne. For example: you and I have shared space in six classes this term. We spoke briefly on two occasions, once in Elemental Theory, when you asked for the chalk I was using, and once in the hallway outside Runic Binding when a first-year dropped their satchel and you handed it back.

Thorne frowned. "I… don't recall either of those."

You were distracted both times. The first, you were staring at the professor's sigilwork instead of me. The second, you were watching someone across the hall.

Elias laughed. "She's got you nailed, mate."

Nyssha's eyes softened faintly. You also held the door open for me in the library three weeks ago. And you spoke to me during our first week here, we stood side by side at the east fountain. You made a comment about the water runes humming too loud.

Thorne had no memory of it. None. "I said that?"

Exactly that, Nyssha confirmed.

Elias shook his head, still grinning. "See? Amazing and terrifying."

They reached the split in the courtyard where the paths diverged toward their respective wings. Nyssha inclined her head slightly to Thorne.

When should we meet for this gathering you have agreed to?

"Tonight," Thorne said. "Two hours after last bell. The front steps of the Umbra House."

She nodded once. Then, with absolute seriousness: Do you require anything in particular from me?

Thorne slowed. "Like what?"

Dress code. Protocols of conduct. Specific conversational alignments. Should I engage your allies? Avoid your rivals? Speak or remain silent?

Elias, already halfway through a mouthful of dried fruit he had produced from one of his pockets, nearly choked. "Conversational alignments?"

Nyssha ignored him, her gaze steady on Thorne. If the intent is to strengthen your position through association, my behavior should be optimized to your advantage. I will require parameters.

Thorne fought down a smirk. "It's a party, Nyssha. Not a war council."

Every gathering is a council of some kind, she said without missing a beat. The difference is in what is spoken aloud.

Elias grinned. "Okay, I'm officially bringing her to all my social disasters from now on."

Nyssha's eyes shifted briefly to him. You are not built for political maneuvering. You reveal your intentions in the first seven seconds of speaking.

Elias blinked. "You counted?"

I measured.

Thorne decided he liked her more with every sentence. "No dress code," he said finally. "Wear whatever doesn't make you miserable. As for conduct, be yourself. Just… maybe don't tell everyone you're cataloging their every move."

Her golden vein-lines pulsed once, as if in acknowledgment. Understood. I will observe silently until an intervention is required.

"That's not what I..." Thorne began, then stopped. There was no point.

She inclined her head again. Two hours after last bell. I will be there.

Without another word, Nyssha turned and moved off toward the colonnade with Elias trailing beside her, muttering something about wanting to see the frost-hollow wyrmling try to bite her.

Thorne watched them go, already wondering how much more interesting this party had just become.

***

The Resonance Room was quiet when Thorne arrived, its black stone floor gleaming in the light spilling from the giant sigil wheel overhead. The vast circle of aged wood and crystal rotated in its slow, deliberate rhythm, runes gliding past each other with mechanical precision, the faint hum in the air just enough to stir the fabric of his coat.

Vellin's work fit him perfectly, a tailored, dark ensemble edged in deep silver thread that caught the light when he moved, sharp without being gaudy. It was the kind of thing that whispered refinement without having to shout it.

Nyssha was already there, standing beneath the wheel's center like she'd been placed there for symmetry's sake. Her robes were white with fine gold stitching, layered in diaphanous fabrics that shifted with the faintest movement. On anyone else, they might have seemed ceremonial. On her, they looked inevitable.

Elias… was wearing something. It involved three different shades of green, a loosely fitted shirt that looked like it had been stolen from a pirate, and boots with silver buckles big enough to catch a candle's flame from across the room.

"Gentlemen," Elias said, grinning, "and mysterious lady of molten veins."

Nyssha inclined her head. You are… very green.

"It's a bold choice," Elias said, entirely unfazed. "They'll remember me."

"I think they will," Thorne said, though he wasn't sure it would be for the reason Elias intended.

Elias clapped his hands once. "Right. Party time. I've been waiting for this all week. My debut, if you will."

Thorne smirked despite himself. "First party in Aetherhold for me, too." He didn't add the unspoken: first party with invisible strings attached to the invitation.

Nyssha was indifferent, though her eyes moved between them as if cataloguing their energy. I am curious to observe how humans and elves interact in these settings. The social currents will be… instructive.

They left the Resonance Room and made their way through the winding corridors, climbing one of Aetherhold's tallest towers. The staircase spiraled upward, and with every landing, the crowd grew more polished. Older-year students passed them in gowns of flowing silk, tailored coats with embroidery like filigree, jewelry that caught the torchlight in bright shards. Perfume and faint traces of spell-oils mingled in the air.

The three of them drew glances, Thorne's sharp attire, Elias's unapologetic eccentricity, and Nyssha's striking, alien elegance made them hard to miss.

Partway up, Nyssha's voice threaded into Thorne's mind, though Elias got the courtesy this time as well. The steely-eyed girl from our house, Aegis. The one who stands very straight and moves like she expects to be challenged. Why did you not invite her?

Thorne glanced at her. "Rowenna? She doesn't speak to us anymore."

You were friends once.

"For a short time."

So her absence is not strategic? You did not choose me because my presence would unsettle her and others?

"No," Thorne said simply. "It's not that calculated."

Nyssha made a low sound in her throat, the first time he'd heard her vocalize, almost like a hum of mild disapproval. Then I should have deducted that from the other pieces of information I've gathered. Two occasions specifically.

She shifted her gaze toward the stair ahead, speaking into their minds with perfect clarity: First: outside the dining hall, two days after your duel with Maris. Two girls in Umbra robes. One said, "If Rowenna can't put him in his place, no one will." The other replied, "She's not speaking to him. Said he's already lost to the wrong side."

Elias whistled low. "That's… not subtle."

Nyssha continued without pause. Second: in the library. Three Aegis boys at the east table. They were whispering about 'the fight.' One said, "She called him a traitor to Caledris." Another laughed and said, "He made her look like a fool in front of half the house." The third said, "He'll regret making her an enemy."

Thorne's steps didn't slow, but his jaw tightened slightly.

Nyssha's candleflame eyes flicked toward him. I recall the exact intonation and pause in each voice. Would you like me to mimic them?

"That's… not necessary," Thorne said dryly.

They finally reached the top landing. The only door was half-open, letting out shifting beams of colored light that painted the stone walls. Music drifted through, two voices in harmony weaving over the sound of strings and a low, steady drumbeat. The air was warmer here, scented faintly with something spiced and sweet.

Elias rubbed his hands together, eyes gleaming. "Here we go," he said. "Time to make my debut in high society!"

The door swung wider as they stepped through, and the tower's rooftop chamber exploded into sound, color, and movement.

If the parties Thorne had overheard about in hushed student gossip were even half this wild, he understood why professors pretended not to know they existed.

The entire floor was awash in drifting motes of light, like shattered gemstones suspended in midair. Spells pulsed with the bass thump of an enchanted drum, changing the hues from gold to emerald to a deep, dizzying violet. The air was thick with the scent of sweet wines, aether-infused fruit, and the faint, heady spice of something that was definitely not legal for first-years.

Young nobles in fine-cut jackets and flowing gowns danced in concentric circles, moving with a mix of formal precision and drunken abandon. The occasional burst of spellfire flared above the crowd, harmless illusions of phoenix wings or constellations, drawing cheers from the nearest clusters.

In one corner, two girls were pressed against the wall, lips locked, hands tangled in each other's hair as a half-empty goblet floated lazily beside them. A boy in crimson robes stumbled past with a bottle under one arm, trailed by a pair of friends levitating cubes of ice into his drink without touching them.

Elias stopped dead just past the threshold. "Oh. Ohhh this is perfect," he breathed, eyes sweeping over the chaos like a pilgrim at the gates of paradise. "We're doing everything tonight. Dancing, drinking, dangerous decisions. All of it."

Thorne's lips twitched. Nyssha, for her part, was utterly still, her gaze sliding across the room with the same clinical detachment she might have for a dissection table. Excessive stimulus, she noted in both their minds. High energy. Variable aether signatures. Numerous points of inebriation.

The debauchery was nothing if not… artful. A half-dozen students floated above the crowd on invisible platforms, passing bottles between them as the liquor poured in looping streams through midair, never spilling a drop. A corner table had been enchanted to endlessly refill with platters of sugared fruits that glowed faintly when bitten into, the juice running down chins like molten gold. In another corner, a group of laughing mages dared each other to sip from goblets rimmed with frost, each sip releasing a plume of glittering vapor that swirled into the shape of mythic beasts before fading into the rafters.

On the far side of the room, a slow spiral of aether-light circled a pair of dancers moving so fluidly they looked sculpted from the same spell. Every step left burning footprints in the air, which hung for a heartbeat before popping into harmless bursts of color. A boy with flushed cheeks and unfocused eyes leaned against the wall while two others traced glowing glyphs along his forearm, the marks melting into his skin in soft pulses before vanishing. Even the laughter here was enchanted, rippling through the crowd like a tangible wave that made the next joke feel funnier than it should have.

It took only a moment for the nearest partygoers to register the new arrivals.

First came the double-takes, a few heads turning mid-conversation. Then the stares.

Thorne felt it wash over them: recognition, curiosity, the sudden hush in the people closest to the door. Not just because of him, though the duel, the sponsorship, and the rumors had made him a name, but because Nyssha was at his side, her molten-gold veins catching the shifting light like she'd been designed for it.

The dancing in the nearest ring slowed, bodies angling ever so slightly toward them. The music still pounded, but now there was an undercurrent, a silent calculation passing through the closest dozen faces, measuring exactly what they were looking at.

Elias leaned sideways toward Thorne, grin wicked. "Congratulations. We've officially made an entrance."

They hadn't made it more than a few steps into the room before a familiar figure detached from a knot of laughing students near the balcony.

Isadora.

Her dress shimmered like spilled wine under the colored lights, and her hair was in the kind of artful disarray only hours of drinking could achieve. She wove toward him, swaying but not stumbling, a goblet dangling loosely from her fingers.

"Thooorne," she sang, stretching his name into a smile. Then she wrapped her arms around him, pressing close enough that he could smell the spiced wine clinging to her breath.

Something in her movement set every instinct on edge. Her pupils were too wide, and when the colored lights passed over her face, her eyes flashed with a strange, unnatural gleam. She kept trying to focus on him but her gaze slid away, restless.

He'd seen eyes like that only once before and it hadn't been from drink alone.

"Who're your friends?" she asked, pulling back just far enough to glance over his shoulder.

Thorne frowned. "You know Elias."

"Riiiight," she said, drawing out the word until it lost any meaning, then gave Elias a lazy wave.

He hesitated, gave her a cautious half-smile. "Hi."

"And this is Nyssha..." Thorne began.

Isadora's gaze lingered on the molten-gold veins across Nyssha's skin. "Oh. You're… tall." The comment dropped from her lips without malice, just the unfiltered observation of someone too far gone to consider the shape of their words.

Nyssha's expression didn't shift. Accurate, she said calmly into Thorne's and Elias's minds.

Thorne refocused on Isadora. "What's wrong with you?"

"Wrong?" She tilted her head, the motion loose, smile unsteady. "I'm at a party, Thorne. What could be wrong?"

Before he could press further, the crowd at the far end parted like cloth drawn aside.

Amira stepped through, her smile curved like a cat that had already caught the bird. Behind her came a small procession, a dozen or more young nobles, every one of them bearing the same sun-kissed skin, sharp cheekbones, and effortless poise. The family resemblance was unmistakable: all Emerald Sands royalty or highborn, and all radiating the same polished confidence.

Their jewelry caught the pulsing lights, sending fractured green-gold gleams across the floor as they moved in tight formation behind her.

Amira's gaze found Thorne instantly. And she did not look away.