The news

The Academy courtyard was alive with chatter, students walking in pairs or small groups, laughing over lessons and plans for the evening. Lucien strolled among them, his satchel slung loosely over one shoulder. For once, the weight of the Academy felt light, as if the world outside these walls could wait a little longer.

“Hey, Lucien,” Toren called, waving him over. “You look like you’re miles away. Daydreaming again?”

Lucien smiled faintly. “Maybe just… thinking.”

Toren raised an eyebrow. “About Arian, isn’t it?”

Lucien froze for half a heartbeat. Then he chuckled, trying to sound casual. “Maybe. Don’t tell anyone.”

Toren grinned. “Your secret’s safe with me. But come on—lunchtime. You can think about missing friends while we eat.”

Lucien followed him to the tables, where a few of their classmates were already gathered. The conversation flowed easily—homework disputes, gossip about classes, jokes about Cassian’s latest antics—but Lucien found himself only half-listening. His thoughts kept drifting north, to borderlands, forests, and the faint trail of Arian that had haunted him for weeks.

---

He was halfway through a slice of bread when a fluttering sound drew his attention. A small, silver-winged messenger hawk landed on the table, claws gripping lightly. Lucien recognized the seal immediately: the Veynar crest, pressed deep into the wax.

His stomach tightened. “From home,” he whispered.

Toren leaned over. “Open it, then. Don’t just stare at it.”

Lucien broke the seal and unrolled the parchment. His eyes skimmed the words, each one sending a ripple through his chest:

Lucien,

Traces of Arian have been found. He was sighted near the northern borderlands. His condition is unknown, but he is alive. We are confirming the details and will send further word soon. For now, remain at the Academy and keep safe.

—Father

He blinked, heart hammering.

“Wait… what?” Toren asked, noticing the change in Lucien’s expression.

“He’s… alive,” Lucien said slowly, almost to himself. “Arian… they’ve found signs of him.”

Toren’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

Lucien nodded, gripping the letter tightly. “Yes. But it’s vague… they don’t know if he’s okay. Or where exactly he is.”

A pause fell between them. The noise of the courtyard faded into the background, replaced by the thrum of Lucien’s heartbeat.

Toren leaned back, a grin slowly forming. “Well… that’s… good news, right? At least he’s alive. Better than nothing.”

Lucien swallowed hard. “It’s more than nothing… but I can’t just wait. Not now. I have to know where he is.”

Toren’s expression softened. “I get it. I really do. But you should… you know… be careful. Your father said to stay here for now.”

“I know,” Lucien murmured. “I’ll obey… for a little while. But I can’t ignore this. I can’t.”

---

Later, Lucien sat alone by the fountain, letting the letter rest in his lap. The sun had dipped lower, painting the courtyard in amber. He traced the edges of the parchment absentmindedly, thinking back to every memory he and Arian had shared—childhood lessons in magic, secret paths through the estate, whispered plans for adventure.

Every memory now felt like a rope pulling him north, to the unknown lands where his friend might be waiting.

A familiar voice interrupted his reverie.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Lucien looked up to see Marielle, a second-year he’d often studied with, sitting beside him. Her eyes were warm with curiosity.

“Just… news from home,” Lucien said carefully, folding the letter and tucking it safely in his pocket.

Marielle smiled. “You’re not in trouble, are you?”

Lucien shook his head. “No. Just… important news. About Arian.”

Her eyes widened. “He’s alive?”

Lucien nodded, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. “At least, that’s what my father says. They’ve found traces of him near the northern borderlands. They don’t know if he’s safe yet.”

Marielle’s expression softened. “That’s… amazing. I can see why you’re worried, though.”

“I am,” Lucien admitted. “More than I can say. I’ve spent so long chasing shadows… now there’s a real trail. I just… I want to follow it.”

She hesitated. “Do you think you can? Without… trouble?”

Lucien’s gaze drifted toward the horizon, where the mountains of the northern provinces met the sky. “I don’t know. But I have to try. He’s alive, and that’s enough for me to take the risk.”

Marielle gave a small nod. “Then you’ll find him. I know it. Just… promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”

“I promise,” Lucien said, though the words felt both like reassurance and a warning to himself.

---

That night, in his dormitory, Lucien sat by the candlelight, the letter from his father beside the fragment he had found weeks ago. The crescent mark still seemed to glow faintly in the dim light, a reminder of the Threshold and the unknown path Arian might have taken.

He traced it with his fingertip, then glanced at the parchment again. The words from the estate seemed to whisper possibilities. Alive. Northern borderlands. Traces.

His fingers clenched. “I’ll find you, Arian,” he whispered. “No matter how long it takes. No matter where you are.”

Toren knocked lightly on the door. “Still up?”

Lucien looked up and smiled faintly. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

Toren grinned. “Don’t forget to sleep eventually. You’ll need your strength for whatever comes next.”

“I know,” Lucien said, folding the letter and placing it carefully in his satchel.

As the lamplight flickered, he looked toward the window, toward the distant northern mountains. Somewhere out there, beyond the safety of the Academy and the borders of their lands, Arian awaited. 

Lucien’s chest tightened with a mix of fear and determination. He had hope now, the faintest glimmer that he wasn’t too late. And for the first time in weeks, that hope burned brighter than the ache of absence.

He would follow the trail. He would bring Arian back.

No matter the cost.

•••