The breakfast table in the Sun Tower felt louder than usual.
Not because Maika was talking too much, though she was, but because nearly everyone else was too.
Students from all four floors of the Sun tower had crammed into the circular common dining hall, and most of them had subtly (or not-so-subtly) shifted their seating closer to one specific table.
Nola's table.
She sat hunched over a cup of herbal tea, her spoon stirring without purpose, while a dozen eyes darted in her direction.
"What spell did you use?"
"Did you really pull Brielle out of the monster's chest? Like… with your bare hands?"
"Was it true that your hair changed colors? That's so cool."
"Are you and Taveer a thing?"
That last one made Nola freeze mid-stir. She looked up, wide-eyed.
Taveer, sitting beside her with arms crossed and posture like a wall, narrowed his eyes. "We're a thing that survived," he said flatly. "Together. Try celebrating that."
The questioner blinked and shuffled back.
Maika, across from them, was visibly annoyed. She stabbed a piece of melon like it owed her money. "You'd think after nearly dying, you'd be allowed to eat breakfast without being the class project."
Yuna had joined them too, her tablet resting beside her plate, eyes wide with fascination. "I don't blame them, though. I mean, you guys fought a Riftspawn. It's not exactly a Tuesday thing."
"Don't remind me," Nola muttered.
Her eggs were untouched. The croissant in front of her was already cold. She didn't feel like a hero. She felt… watched. And tired.
Taveer nudged his plate toward her wordlessly. He hadn't touched his toast either.
"Eat," he said. "If you don't, Maika will steal it."
Maika looked up. "I would never… okay, maybe I would."
Nola smiled faintly and broke off a piece of toast.
It felt almost normal.
Until the door opened.
A hush moved like a ripple through the dining hall. A teacher entered, it was Professor Kelra, the spellcraft instructor and behind her walked a student none of them had seen before.
He was tall. Not overly so, but lean and well-dressed in muted grey robes that shimmered faintly with enchantment sigils. His hair was jet black, falling into artful waves that framed a face too perfect to be real.
And his eyes wer icy blue, sharp and amused that swept across the room before landing on Nola and Taveer's table.
"Void Tower," Yuna whispered. "You can tell by the cloak. It's… oh, wow. That's Soren Vale."
"Soren Vale?" Maika frowned. "Sounds like the name of a moody poet."
"Or a charming assassin," Taveer added dryly.
Professor Kelra led the boy forward to their table. "Sun Tower," she said, her voice formal, "this is Soren Vale, final-year, top of Void Tower and one of the newly appointed members of the student commission."
Soren gave a warm, effortless smile. "A pleasure."
He turned directly to Nola and Taveer. "You two caused quite the stir."
Nola blinked. "We didn't… mean to."
Soren laughed. "Oh, I don't think anyone means to slay a Riftspawn. That's sort of what makes it impressive."
Taveer didn't smile back. His eyes stayed unreadable.
Soren gestured toward the empty seat beside Maika. "Mind if I sit?"
Nola opened her mouth, unsure what to say, but Maika scooted over and patted the bench. "By all means, Mystery Boy."
"I prefer 'Legend in Training,'" Soren quipped, sliding in.
He looked at Taveer and Nola again, expression more thoughtful now. "Jokes aside… I've read the report. You held the line against something that should've required a full squad. That's not luck. That's something else."
Nola shifted. She hated how her chest twisted when people said things like that.
"I didn't feel brave," she said.
Soren's gaze softened. "Then you probably are."
That earned a slight eye-roll from Taveer, but Nola didn't notice. She was too busy trying to figure out what to make of this boy who smiled like nothing could touch him.
"You're part of the commission," Taveer said. It wasn't a question.
Soren nodded. "Yeah. There's five of us. We're mostly here to stop things from getting worse."
"And spy on us?" Taveer's voice was sharp but quiet.
Soren raised his eyebrows. "Monitor. Not spy."
Maika snorted. "Same thing, just with better PR."
Yuna, ever curious, leaned in. "So you're, like… going to be around a lot?"
Soren's eyes flicked back to Nola. "Yes. Especially now that Rift activity is confirmed inside the school. My team and I are stationed across all towers. But I requested proximity to Sun Tower."
Taveer's posture tightened by a fraction.
Nola noticed.
She looked at him for a long second, his clenched jaw, the flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
"Why?" she asked, guarded now.
Soren didn't hesitate. "Because I want to understand how you did what you did. I want to learn from it. And…" His smile dimmed. "I want to make sure it never has to happen again."
That caught Nola off guard.
It sounded genuine. Too genuine.
Taveer's tone stayed cold.
"You want to study us?"
Soren looked at him squarely. "No. I want to keep the next first-years from bleeding out in a hallway."
That shut Taveer up, but only barely.
Nola stood slowly, pushing her tray aside. "I need air."
Maika made a move to follow, but Taveer gently raised a hand. "Let me."
Nola stepped out into the hallway, pressing a hand against her chest as if that could slow the beat of her heart. Too many eyes. Too many expectations. And now… someone new watching her again.
She barely noticed Taveer until he stood beside her.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know," she whispered. "I thought after fighting that thing, I'd feel stronger. But now it's just… more."
Taveer didn't try to comfort her. Not in the usual way.
Instead, he leaned against the wall beside her and said, "You don't have to prove anything to him. Or to anyone. You already did what matters."
She looked at him. "Why does it sound like you're jealous?"
Taveer raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I am. Just a little."
She laughed, startled. "Why?"
"Because people like him walk into rooms and the air rearranges itself for them. People like us?" He looked at her. "We make do with what's broken. I want glory."
There was silence.
Then Nola reached out, fingers brushing his.
He didn't move.
And neither of them let go.