As soon as I saw Maelor and Thorian step out of the council building, everything shifted. Vela and S’varra, who’d been grinning and teasing just a moment before, went stiff. Their smiles faded into something more guarded, more cautious. I glanced at them, watching their movements, trying to read their faces. Vela’s playful spark had dimmed, her iridescent scales catching less of the light as her body tensed. S’varra, though usually composed, seemed coiled like a spring, her eyes narrowing as they tracked Thorian’s every step.

  And Thorian? He looked different too. There was something darker hanging over him, a sharp edge that hadn’t been there before. He moved with the same fluidity, but there was a tension beneath it now, as though he’d been holding something back for far too long. His face was tight, controlled—but I could see the frustration simmering beneath the surface. Whatever had happened in that chamber, it hadn’t been pleasant. He was keeping it together, but just barely.

  Even Maelor, usually stoic and unreadable, seemed worn down. His shoulders were set, his posture as straight as ever, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of exhaustion, like he’d just fought some kind of mental war behind those closed doors. I didn’t like the look of it. Not one bit.

  As they approached, I braced myself, trying to figure out what was coming. Thorian’s gaze met mine, and I could feel it—those unspoken words, the tension crackling between us. It was a strange mix of acknowledgment and something sharper. We were on the same side, technically, but that didn’t mean things were simple.

  “You still here?” Thorian’s voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of something biting in it.

  I smirked, not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing my nerves. “Someone’s got to stick around and clean up the mess after you cause it.”

  Thorian’s eyes flashed for a second, but he said nothing, just nodded slightly in acknowledgment. It wasn’t hostility—it was something more complicated. Respect, maybe. Or at least an understanding.

  Before I could say more, S’varra took a step back, her body going rigid. Her pupils narrowed, and her nostrils flared as she sniffed the air, her entire posture shifting from casual to alarmed in an instant. “What is he?” Her voice was low, controlled, but there was an edge of alarm.

  Vela glanced sharply at S'varra, her caution deepening. She could sense something—feel something. Typical Lizardfolk. S'varra had always been able to pick up on things others missed, but this... this was something else.

  Thorian’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze moving to S'varra, careful and deliberate. “I’m a lot of things,” he said, his tone guarded, measured. “But right now, I’m just someone trying to figure out how long this is going to take.”

  The tension in the air thickened. Vela’s expression had tightened, and even she was on edge now, her violet eyes flicking between Thorian and me. But before the questions could start piling up, Maelor stepped forward, his presence alone enough to cut through the brewing storm.

  “Enough,” Maelor’s voice was calm, but it carried a weight that silenced the air around us. “S’varra, Vela, that’s enough for now. You’ll get answers in time, but not here. I need you both to head back. We have a lot to discuss.”

  Vela opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it, shooting me a look that said, We’ll talk later. S’varra lingered for a second longer, her gaze still fixed on Thorian, but she nodded at Maelor, accepting the unspoken command. With a final glance back at me, they both turned and walked away, though I could feel their lingering uncertainty.

  Once they were out of earshot, Maelor turned to me and Thorian, his expression as hard as ever. “The Council... was not easy to convince.” He didn’t elaborate, but I could tell it had been a battle. “Thorian will remain under close observation for now. He’s your responsibility, Taron. You insisted on bringing him here; you’ll see it through.”

  I nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. “I understand.”

  Thorian shifted beside me, the sharp edge still present in his posture. “So, I’m officially on a leash now?”

  Maelor’s eyes flicked toward him, his voice firm but not unkind. “Consider it... an extended invitation. With conditions. We’re not taking any chances.”

  Thorian huffed a soft laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Fair enough.”

  I glanced between them, feeling the tension simmering beneath the surface. Maelor wasn’t one to show frustration openly, but even he seemed strained by the situation. “We’re walking a fine line here,” I said quietly, not so much to Thorian but to Maelor. “But I still believe this is the right call.”

  Maelor’s gaze softened slightly as he met Taron’s eyes. "I believe you're right. But if we're both wrong... we'll all pay the price."

  I met Maelor’s gaze, feeling the weight of his words settle on my shoulders. “We’re right,” I said, more to reassure myself than anything. “This is the right thing to do.”

  Thorian, standing beside me, didn’t say a word, but I could sense the tension in him. The Council might have given him permission to stay, but he wasn’t exactly here on friendly terms. This was a gamble—for all of us.

  Maelor gave a slight nod, though his expression remained unreadable. “We’ll see,” he said, his voice carrying that familiar, measured calm. “But be careful, Taron. Just because you believe in something doesn’t mean others will. You’ll have to watch your step. And his.”

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  I raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways at Thorian. “I’ll try not to let him get us killed.”

  Thorian gave a dry chuckle, finally speaking. “That would be ideal.”

  Maelor’s lips pressed together, almost like he was fighting back a smirk. “I trust you can manage that. For now, take him on a brief tour of Aether. Stick to the quieter areas—dusk will help keep attention off you both. There’s no need to draw unnecessary eyes just yet.”

  I nodded, appreciating the practicality. It was already late enough that most of the city was winding down for the night. If we kept it short and stuck to the backstreets, we could avoid causing a scene.

  “Come on then,” I said, turning to Thorian. “Let’s get you acquainted with Aether—at least, the parts that won’t get us in trouble.”

  Thorian’s eyes glinted, though whether it was amusement or wariness, I couldn’t tell. “Lead the way.”

  I nodded to Maelor, the weight of the conversation still hanging between us. “I’ll keep you updated,” I said, knowing that even though I was leaving for now, Maelor’s thoughts were still spinning in his head. He didn’t respond, just gave a quiet nod, the distant look still lingering in his eyes.

  Thorian, standing beside me, offered a respectful but restrained nod toward Maelor. It was brief, almost mechanical, like he wasn’t quite sure how to navigate this new terrain—how to interact with someone he should technically see as an enemy, yet here they were. Maelor noticed, but didn’t react further. He simply turned, disappearing back into the building as we stood there.

  I glanced at Thorian. “Ready?” I asked, knowing full well that he wasn’t.

  Thorian raised an eyebrow, his expression guarded but resigned. “Always,” he muttered, that edge of sarcasm still ever-present in his voice.

  We began walking, the streets of Aether growing quieter as the evening settled in. The air had that familiar coolness to it, the fading warmth of the day giving way to the crispness of night. Here and there, a few people lingered—citizens making their way home, Arcanists finishing their training for the day. Their footsteps echoed softly along the cobblestone streets, and the faint smell of food from the nearby taverns still hung in the air, clinging to the cool breeze. It was peaceful in a way, but I knew Thorian wasn’t at peace.

  I watched him as we walked, his eyes scanning everything around him. He was taking it all in—the towering buildings, the streets filled with magic, the glow of arcane lights that flickered above the doorways. His expression was hard to read, but there was something in the way he looked—something almost... distant. Like this was a world that had been denied to him, something out of reach.

  “So,” I started, breaking the silence, “it’s not exactly the most exciting part of Aether, but you’ll be glad to know it’s a lot quieter than the Council chambers.”

  Thorian snorted, though his eyes didn’t leave the surroundings. “I imagine that’s not hard to beat.”

  We passed a few Arcanists on their way back to the dorms, their robes flowing behind them, the faint hum of magic lingering in the air as they moved. One or two glanced our way, curiosity flashing in their eyes when they saw Thorian, but they didn’t stop. For now, we were just two figures blending into the dusk.

  The dormitories weren’t far, but I slowed the pace a bit, giving Thorian more time to absorb the city around him. It was more than just a place—it was a reminder of everything he didn’t have. Every tower, every ornate doorway seemed to represent something that had been stripped away from him, long before I’d ever met him.

  “Do you miss it?” I asked suddenly, my voice quiet enough not to sound intrusive.

  Thorian’s eyes flicked to me for a second, guarded as ever. “Miss what?”

  I gestured vaguely to the city around us. “This. A place like this. I mean, Aether’s not perfect, but there’s a sense of... stability here. You ever miss that?”

  He didn’t answer immediately. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer at all. But then he spoke, his tone low, almost thoughtful. “You can’t miss something you never had.”

  That shut me up for a moment. I hadn’t expected him to answer like that, and I definitely hadn’t expected the subtle weight in his voice. He kept walking, eyes fixed ahead, and I didn’t push further. I just followed his gaze, keeping him in my periphery.

  Soon enough, the dormitory building came into view. It wasn’t overly grand, at least not compared to some of the other structures in Aether, but it still had that unmistakable air of prestige. The stone walls were intricately carved, the faint glow of runes embedded into the architecture, casting a soft light over the entrance. Tall windows lined the front, each with delicate, swirling patterns etched into the glass. The door, a massive arcane construct, shimmered with protective wards—a reminder that even in a place of learning, Aether was prepared for anything.

  The dormitories were practical, as they had to be for the Arcanists who lived there, but there was a touch of luxury, too—refined but not ostentatious. Inside, the rooms were spacious, each with its own small study area, practical but with enough magical comforts to remind you that this was one of the most renowned places in the realm.

  Thorian paused in front of the building, his eyes scanning it, taking in every detail. His face was still carefully controlled, but I could see it—the hint of something in his expression. Jealousy? Resentment? Maybe both. He stood there, just staring, as if trying to figure out what it all meant, what it represented.

  I watched him carefully, reading every flicker of emotion that crossed his face. It was a strange thing, seeing him like this, in a world that wasn’t his. “This is where you’ll stay,” I said, finally breaking the silence. “This building houses most of the Arcanists, including me and Maelor’s team. We all sleep here—soldiers, fighters of magic. There are a few more buildings like this scattered across the campus. Aether has quite a few mages under its command.”

  I paused, letting him take that in, wondering if he could grasp just how massive Aether’s reach really was.

  “It’s... different from what you’re probably used to.”

  Thorian didn’t respond immediately. He was still looking at the building, but his eyes were distant. “You could say that.”

  I smiled a little, though it felt a bit hollow. “You’ll get used to it. Or you won’t. Either way, it’s better than whatever alternative we could’ve left you with.”

  Thorian gave a soft, bitter chuckle. “High praise, Taron. Truly.”

  I shrugged, leaning against one of the stone pillars by the entrance. “Just being honest. Besides, could be worse. You could still be out there, dealing with Furybeasts.”

  Thorian finally looked at me, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “I’ll take that over the Council any day.”

  We stood there for a moment longer, the silence between us more comfortable than it had been before. Aether was foreign to him, and I knew it would take time for him to adjust—if he ever did. But there was something in the way he looked at the dormitories, something that said he understood, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

  “Come on,” I said, pushing off from the pillar.

  “Let’s get you settled in.”