CHAPTER TWO – THE SCAR BENEATH THE CLIFF
No one moved.
Not Riko.
Not Zephryn.
Not the rain.
It was Yolti who broke the stillness—
not with words, but with a single step forward.
Shoulders squared. Gaze locked.
She didn't look at Riko.
She looked at the two students behind him.
"Is this really who you're following?" she asked, voice even.
"A boy who weaponizes loss like it makes him brave?"
The taller of the two shifted uncomfortably.
The other looked at the floor.
Riko sneered.
"No one's following anyone. I just said what we're all thinking."
He took another step toward Zephryn.
"You're not one of us. You never were. You came back with a glyph that doesn't match, a hum that doesn't belong, and a past you won't explain."
Kaelen's voice came next—low, but breaking through like smoke before a fire.
"He doesn't owe you anything."
"Doesn't he?" Riko turned sharply.
"We all lost people. We all bled to get here. But you? You vanish into the wild for six years, and now the Lyceum bends for you?"
He gestured to Zephryn's cloak.
To Bubbalor—now crouched behind Yolti's ankle, humming low and constant.
To Selka—whose hand hadn't left her side, but whose eyes hadn't blinked once.
"You weren't here when the fracture line collapsed outside the gate. You weren't here when Doctrine threatened to shut us down."
He stepped closer.
"Where were you when Solara died?"
Silence.
No one answered.
Because Zephryn didn't move.
He just stood there, eyes slightly narrowed,
like the words weren't hitting him—but passing through.
Then he spoke.
Soft.
Sharp.
Like a thread pulled taut.
"I was holding the scarf she wrapped around me."
Riko flinched.
"I was chasing a hum no one else could hear."
His voice didn't rise, but the pulse in the corridor did.
Even the old crystals hanging above flickered once—unnaturally.
"I was bleeding for a name the world forgot to speak."
The hum beneath Bubbalor flared bright blue.
Riko stepped back.
And Zephryn finished the line—
"Where were you?"