The Brightest Shadow

Jade sat upright in her desk, posture as perfect as the curls pinned neatly behind her ears. She had always been told that her presence mattered — how she carried herself, how she looked, how she responded. It was part of being born into a Rank B family, a line strong enough to demand attention, but never awe.

She was the highest caliber of average.

The Caster classroom buzzed with restrained energy. Robes were pressed, hair tied tight, spellbands gleaming faintly on each student’s wrist — all designed to aid in early control and precision. This wasn’t a beginner’s class. These students were skilled enough to feel the pressure of expectation. Every mistake was a bruise to family pride. Every success, a barely met expectation, smothered in the pressure to exceed it again and again.

Jade kept her eyes on the board while the instructor, a tall woman with silver streaks in her dark bun, drew diagrams of mana flow and direction throughout the body from its core and explained the process of magical maturation.

"Your mana core expands with age, but more importantly — with a proper tether. Without it, over time, energy destabilizes and begins to visibly leak. That’s when we see deterioration, a sign of the body's increasing rejection of unbound magic. A warning that silence is coming. That your magic is already slipping away. You all know what that means."

She paused. The word hovered unspoken: Grey-Eyes.

A murmur passed through the classroom.

Rose raised her hand.

Jade’s attention snapped to her.

The teacher nodded. "Yes, Miss Solenne?"

Rose's voice was smooth, curious. “Is there any research being done on unlocking the core through less… fixed means? Outside the traditional tether?”

There was a beat of silence. Then —

A boy across the room adjusted his glasses. He didn’t wait for the teacher to respond.

"There’s no such thing. Every reputable volume on magical biology confirms that tethering is the only method for core stabilization," he said. Loud enough for everyone to hear. "Surely Miss White Cloak already knows that."

The tense air was palpable. The other kids held their heads slightly down and away, not wanting to be noticed, yet curious to see how things would unfold.

And then—

Jade stood. Calmly. Deliberately.

"Then perhaps you need better books. Or better comprehension. I’m sure Rose could lend you both."

The boy stiffened. Jade tilted her head, her voice velvet-wrapped steel.

"Who are you to respond to Rose's inquiry instead of the teacher?"

The class remained unanimated.

"Miss Wynter," the teacher said with a sigh, reasserting control. "Please sit."

She obeyed — smooth as ever — but her gaze never left Rose’s back.

Lunch that day was the same as always. Same table on the second floor of the cafeteria. A maid representative of both families stood behind their masters respectfully, awaiting their services. A butter knife cut through the piece of apple pie on Rose's plate, breaking the slice into a more bite-appropriate portion. As she gently stuck her fork into the broken piece, she looked up past the few trays of desserts and food toward Jade, who was currently adding an extra cube of sugar to her tea.

"I still haven't found any hints to the stabilization process," Rose said, eager to confide in her like she always had.

"You're not going to address what happened in class?" Jade asked, shifting the atmosphere slightly. She stared into her cup of tea, the handle resting between her fingers.

"Oh, that?" Rose took a bite, letting the warm apples melt on her tongue. There was a softness in her tone, as though she’d already forgotten where they were. "Well, there's not much to say. He was accurate—there aren’t any alternatives to the current system."

"I—I don't mean that, Rose!" Jade said, raising her voice slightly.

"He was clearly trying to make you look bad."

"I don’t mind," Rose replied. Her nonchalant spirit hung over the table as she gently pierced another piece of pie.

"All I care about is liberation, Jade. You know that."

Jade didn’t respond. She hated every second of the idea that her childhood friend didn’t care about societal structure and would rather focus on improbable research.

They ate their lunches in companionable silence.

Jade's face was flushed, an awkward realization of the creation of the tense atmosphere.

"If you'll excuse me." Rose placed down the handkerchief she used to clean her mouth. She stood up and headed to the stairway down, walking past her maid and thanking her, who bowed in reverence.

Jade sat at the table alone, her grip on her fork tightened and loosened just as quickly, careful not to accidentally be caught by the maids who awaited her to finish.

She pierced another strawberry with her fork and brought it to her lips. She thought as she ate, "what a waste."

Standing up after wiping her own mouth, she thanked both maids and walked towards the stairs down. She could hear the maids finally cleaning the table behind her as she descended.

The afternoon classes passed without incident. When the final lecture ended, Jade gathered her things and stepped toward the door. Outside, a neat row of maids waited for their masters. Her own maid broke from the line as Jade appeared, meeting her eyes with a quiet smile. She bowed, offered a polite greeting, and extended her hands expectantly, ready to take what Jade carried.

"I'll carry my own bag today, Celia," Jade calmly told her. She wanted a change of pace.

Celia bowed and retracted her hands, following Jade as she began her walk to the dorms. They passed along a long corridor lined with closed wooden doors, behind which classes were still in session. Unlike Jade’s class, these rooms didn’t have maids waiting outside. The lower-tiered courses belonged to families who couldn’t afford such luxuries. One of the classrooms ahead had its door cracked open. An empty class perhaps? Jade thought. But as she approached, voices inside became clearer.

A group of Stabilizer boys, loitering where they thought no one would hear.

“I saw her today in the library.”

"No way, lucky! I was in class until recently."

"Well, she was just as beautiful as the rumors. However, she seemed like she was in her own world."

"She's the Top Caster after all. She's probably just studying."

“Top Caster? She’s top everything. I’d tether in a heartbeat.”

“And what? Get rejected on the spot?”

They laughed.

Jade stopped walking just past the room.

She hated that she stopped. Hated more that she turned around and stepped through the classroom door. They didn’t know what Rose was really trying to do.

Her voice cut through their chatter. The boys turned toward her.

"Wouldn’t it be more realistic to not waste time on dreams outside your rank? There are plenty of female Casters who might humor your tethering proposals. You should focus on them."

She exhaled with emotion.

The boys were speechless. One mumbled an apology. Another muttered something about just joking.

Jade turned from the door and continued her walk, jaw tight.

Her maid followed silently behind her.

The boys could be heard leaving the room behind them.

If I had her power, I’d do anything to keep it. Anything.

She hated that Rose had doubts.

She hated more that she didn't realize her value and importance to society.

But most of all, she hated that her only claim to closeness with Rose was a secret — the only piece of Rose the world didn’t see. A truth whispered in trust years ago.

She wouldn’t betray it. Not because she was loyal. But because it was hers.

And she wasn’t going to share.

They sat together again the next day.

Routine. Familiarity.

Jade watched her — her light, her grace, her gentle detachment — and sighed.

"Are you okay, Jade?" Rose inquired at the sound.

"No—no, I'm fine. I think we should head to class now,” Jade said.

Rose agreed, only then realizing how much time had slipped away. She had a habit of bringing library books to lunch, eating slowly as she read, her mind always half elsewhere.

The walk back stretched on like an eternity. Students who noticed them quickly moved aside, wary of crossing their path. Rose walked at Jade’s right, a book lifted before her eyes, unwilling to waste even a moment.

From the opposite direction, a boy rounded the corner and collided with her. His arms and hers spilled books into the air — yet none touched the ground. Rose’s book drifted weightlessly, as though borne by a breeze, and settled neatly back into her waiting hand. She glanced at the boy.

He blushed, stunned by the encounter. He hadn’t expected to see her again so soon.

“That’s twice now, isn’t it?” Rose said, her magic flicking the scattered books back into his arms in a neat stack.

Jade’s chest tightened. Someone had bumped into Rose — dared to touch her — and worse, the boy looked pitiful. Weak.

But she bit back the words on her tongue. Not here. Not in front of Rose.

“What’s your name?” Rose asked.

“Kai.”

“Well, Kai, try not to injure yourself again. The Willow isn’t going anywhere.”

Kai’s eyes widened, his breath catching. She knew.

Jade stiffened. The Willow? What did she mean? Had they met before?

Kai bowed awkwardly and hurried off, disappearing into the crowd.

They stood in silence until Rose turned, her smile quick and easy. “Sorry about that, Jade. Let’s head to class.”

It was a flawless smile — polished, practiced, like a mask carefully fitted to her face. Beautiful.

Too beautiful.

Perfect.

It had to be.