Chapter 149: The hell was that?
Alaric laid down on his bed in the dorm room. Staring at the ceiling.
There was a crack running through the plaster. Started near the corner, zigzagged across to somewhere above Oliver’s bed.
Yeah, he was bored.
His body had recovered from the yesterday’s fight. The minor cuts were already healed. And now he was just... lying here.
Waiting for classes to resume or whatever they planned to do next.
"What if they come back?"
Oliver’s voice cut through the silence.
Alaric didn’t bother looking over. "They won’t."
"But what if they do?" Oliver was sitting up on his bed, knees pulled to his chest.
"I mean, they hit the capital. If they can do that, what’s stopping them from attacking here? All the noble heirs in one place—"
Alaric sighed.
"The academy has better defenses than those civilian districts."
"So did those nobels and officials." Oliver’s voice pitched higher.
"And they killed many generals. And what... What if some of the professors are working with them? What if someone here is feeding them information?"
Alaric’s eyes shifted from the ceiling to Oliver.
The boy was rocking slightly, hands gripping his knees.
"I’m serious!" Oliver continued. "Think about it, they knew everything. Someone told them. What if there’s someone here doing the same thing? Professor Voss always asks weird questions about our essence types. And Korwell wants to know about our families, who we’re connected to, what if he’s making lists or—"
"Oliver."
"And they’re going to use that to target us next and—"
"Oliver." Alaric’s voice came sharper this time.
Oliver stopped, breathing fast.
Alaric sat up. "You weren’t even there."
"What?"
"At the attack." Alaric looked at him directly. "So why are you the one having a breakdown?"
Oliver’s face flushed. "I... people died, Alaric. Students like us could have... wait, you were there, you could have—"
"But I didn’t." Alaric stood up and stretched until his shoulder popped.
"And sitting here imagining worst-case scenarios about professors being traitors isn’t doing anything except making you annoying."
Oliver’s mouth opened, closed. Then eventually spoke. "I was worried. When we heard what happened. That you might have—"
"I’m fine." Alaric cut him off, returning to his bed. "Stop worrying about things you can’t control."
Oliver didn’t respond. Just sat there for a while longer before finally lying down.
System?
Alaric called out in his mind.
But nothing happened.
He frowned and tried again. System. Status window.
Still nothing.
What’s wrong with it now?
He sat up, jaw tightening.
The system had gone offline once before for maintenance after his awakening. But that time it had announced. This time, it was just... silence.
And fuck the quarantine.
They’d locked down the academy after the attack.
Barriers are up, no one can come in or go out until further notice.
He stood up, moved to the window and pushed it open.
Cool night air hit his face. The grounds were quiet below, just patrol lights moving in the distance.
He gripped the windowsill, tested his weight, then swung one leg out.
"What are you doing?"
Oliver’s voice came from behind him, confused and alarmed.
Alaric didn’t stop. Got his other leg out and found footing on the narrow ledge. "Going outside."
"We’re on the second floor!"
"I can see that."
"There’s a curfew. And guards are everywhere. And we’re literally not allowed to leave the—"
"Then don’t leave." Alaric glanced back through the window. Oliver was half out of bed, staring at him like he’d lost his mind. "Stay here. Sleep tight and stop worrying."
"Alaric, this is insane. If they catch you—"
"They won’t."
Without waiting for a response, Alaric jumped out.
Air rushed past him for a second before he twisted mid-fall, hand igniting.
Small controlled bursts of flame shot downward, not enough to light up the night, but enough to slow his descent.
Then...
His boots hit grass with barely a sound.
He crouched on impact, let the momentum roll through his shoulders, then straightened.
Silence.
He glanced around. The patrol lights were two buildings over, moving away. Good timing.
Looking back up at the window, he found Oliver’s pale face staring down at him, mouth open.
Alaric raised one hand in a lazy wave, then shoved both hands in his pockets and started walking.
The academy grounds at night felt different.
The paths that were packed with students during the day now stretched out quiet under moonlight.
The barriers shimmered faintly overhead, barely visible unless you knew to look for them.
He took a turn down a narrower path, one that led away from the main courtyards. The stone walkway sloped upward gradually.
Ahead, the path opened up to what looked like an observation deck, one of those elevated platforms built into the academy’s architecture.
He climbed the steps, hands still in his pockets. The platform was small, maybe fifteen feet across, with a stone railing overlooking the lower grounds and the city beyond.
He walked forward, eyes on the distant city lights, and that was when his shoulder collided with someone standing near the railing.
The impact wasn’t hard, but solid enough that he had to step back.
A girl stood at the railing, one hand resting on the stone. She must have been leaning forward when he’d walked past her in the darkness without noticing.
Silver hair fell past her shoulders, almost luminescent in the moonlight. Her eyes were a deep, vivid shade of violet that seemed to catch and hold the light. She wore simple academy robes without any embroidery, just plain dark fabric.
She’d turned at the contact, looking at him.
She was looking at him now with an expression that was hard to read. Surprise, maybe, but something else underneath it. Something that made her posture stiffen slightly, made her fingers tighten on the railing.
"Didn’t see you there," Alaric said. "Sorry."
She then shifted to the side slightly, making space along the railing without saying anything.
Alaric moved a few feet away from her and leaned against it.
The city spread out below, thousands of lights were illuminating the place, though there were dark patches where buildings had burned during the attack.
Smoke still rose from a few districts.
Neither of them spoke.
He glanced over at her. She’d returned to staring out at the view, but her posture was rigid.
"Can’t sleep?" Alaric asked.
She didn’t answer immediately. Several seconds passed before she spoke. "Something like that."
Silence settled again. The wind picked up slightly, carrying the faint smell of ash from the city.
Then she turned her head to look at him directly. Her violet eyes caught the moonlight.
"You’re... Alaric?"
The moment that name escaped her lips, she snapped her head away from him, staring at the city below.
Her breathing had changed, shorter, shallower, like she was fighting to keep it steady.
"You alright?" Alaric asked, straightening slightly.
"I’m fine." The word came out a little fast.
Alaric watched her.
"I should go," she said suddenly.
Then she pushed off from the railing and turned, headed for the stairs.
She made it three steps before she stopped completely. Just froze mid-stride, like her body had locked up.
Her shoulders rose and fell with a single deep breath.
Then she forced herself forward again, without looking at him. She nearly tripped on the fourth step down, then caught herself and kept going.
Within seconds she’d disappeared down the path.
Alaric stood alone on the platform.
He turned back to the railing, leaning against it again.
What the hell was that about?