Chloe lay on her back, eyes open, tracking the faint hairline crack in the ceiling she'd already traced five times.
Her roommate's breathing came slow and even from the other side of the room, a soft, rhythmic presence that made the space feel occupied without demanding anything from her. The kind of quiet that only existed when someone else was unconscious, safe, in a way, because it meant no one was watching.
She turned onto her side. Then onto her back again.
Sleep wasn't happening.
It hadn't been happening.
She waited another minute
two
listening to her roommate's breathing, making sure it stayed steady, deep enough to mean she was under.
Then she swung her legs off the bed.
The floor was cold. She ignored it.
Shoes. Quiet. Door.
She slipped out without a sound.
The stairwell lights buzzed faintly as she climbed, each step taken with the specific care of someone trying not to echo in a building that amplified everything after hours.
Second-year floor.
She found the door, lifted her hand, and knocked, soft, precise. Enough to carry through wood. Not enough to carry through walls.
There was a pause.
Then the handle shifted, and the door opened just a few inches.
Aiva's face appeared in the gap, hair slightly out of place, eyes clearer than Chloe expected for this hour.
"You're early tonight."
Chloe shrugged one shoulder. "Wanted to get done fast. Sleep like a normal person for once."
Aiva's mouth curved faintly. "Of course you would be. You stay up all night doing magic."
"Yeah, well." Chloe leaned slightly against the doorframe. "Somehow it never seems to bother you."
Aiva tilted her head. "I've always needed less sleep."
Chloe's eyes flicked over her face, brief, automatic.
Another thing.
Filed. Not examined.
"Lucky you."
Aiva opened the door a little wider. "I was about to sort my clothes. I've been putting it off all week." She gestured vaguely behind her. "Do you mind waiting?"
Chloe shook her head. "It's fine."
"Come in."
The room had the same shape as Chloe's, two beds, two desks, a shared middle that had been claimed by neither and both, but Aiva's side looked like it had exploded in a controlled way.
Clothes covered the floor in a wide, contained spread. Not messy. Not thrown. Just… everything out at once, waiting to be sorted into something more intentional.
Her roommate lay turned away, blanket pulled up, one arm hanging loosely over the edge of the bed.
Chloe stepped around the edge of the clothing pile and found a clear patch near the desk, dropping down cross-legged without ceremony.
Aiva moved through the clothes with quiet efficiency
pick up, assess, fold, place. No wasted motion.
Chloe watched her for a minute.
Then, "Can I ask you something."
Aiva didn't look up. "About what."
"Magic."
That made her pause.
Just for a second.
Her eyes flicked toward her roommate, then back to Chloe.
Aiva lifted one hand, fingers making a small, practiced motion in the air.
Something shimmered, barely visible, like heat distortion, settling across the invisible line dividing the room.
It didn't hum. Didn't glow. It just… existed.
She lowered her hand.
"Alright go ahead."
Chloe leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees.
"How did you learn all of it."
Aiva glanced at her. "All of what."
"Pyromancy. Lightning. The advanced stuff." Chloe gestured vaguely. "That's not first-year material."
Aiva smiled faintly. "Practice."
"Mm."
"And studying," Aiva added, picking up a shirt and folding it neatly. "A lot of it."
Chloe watched the motion.
"That gets you good," she said. "Not… that."
Aiva's hands slowed slightly.
Chloe tilted her head. "There are levels where it stops being about effort. It's time. Repetition. Years."
She let a small, crooked smile pull at her mouth.
"I'm starting to think you never had a childhood."
Aiva laughed, soft and easy. "I did, thank you very much."
"Did you."
"of course i did."
Chloe's gaze stayed on her.
"Your parents," she said. "They're mages."
It wasn't really a question.
Aiva's hands stilled.
Then resumed.
"My dad died when I was a baby," she said. "I never knew him."
Chloe's expression didn't change.
"And my mom," Aiva added, after a second. "As far as I can tell, she's completely human."
The shirt in her hands got folded with slightly more care than the others.
Chloe stared at her.
That doesn't make sense.
Magic is hereditary.
You need the Lattice density. You need—
That doesn't make sense.
She leaned forward more, the edge in her voice sharpening without her meaning to soften it.
"Then how."
Aiva looked up.
"How did you learn it," Chloe said. "How did you even know you could. If both your parents are mund—"
She cut herself off, then didn't bother correcting it.
Mundane
"Where did it come from."
Aiva opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Then tried again.
"I—"
Her brow furrowed, just slightly.
"I remember—" she started, slower now. "I think I was—"
She paused.
Not because she didn't want to answer, but because the words weren't there.
Chloe sensed it instantly.
It wasn't something heard or spoken, only seen.
Aiva's eyes didn't leave Chloe, yet turned inward, as if searching for something hidden deep behind them.
"I was—" she tried again. "There was—"
Her fingers tightened in the fabric she was holding.
"It's like—" she exhaled, a small, frustrated breath. "You know when you try to remember how you learned to ride a bike?"
Chloe didn't respond.
"You know you did," Aiva said. "You know you fell, and then you didn't, and then you could. But the actual—" She made a small, helpless motion. "The first time. The exact moment. It's not… there."
Her voice thinned.
"And the pieces that are there don't… fit right."
Chloe's stomach tightened.
Aiva blinked, harder now.
"I was younger," she said, pushing. "And there was... someone... no, I—"
Her words started to break apart.
Chloe watched her face.
Watched the shift from searching to… hitting something.
A wall.
Invisible. Solid.
Aiva pressed against it anyway.
Her breath hitched.
"I should remember this," she said, quieter. "I do remember. I just—"
Her balance went.
It wasn't dramatic.
There was no stumble to catch.
Her legs just… stopped.
The decision to fall didn't exist. The body simply followed.
Chloe was moving before the thought finished forming.
"야—"
Aiva hit the floor with a soft, wrong sound, her body folding in on itself more than striking.
The shimmer across the room flickered, then vanished.
A thin line of red slipped from her nose, trailing down, too bright against her skin.
Her eyes were open.
Not in pain.
Not exactly.
There was a tension there, yes, the beginnings of a headache pressing in
but that wasn't what held Chloe's attention.
It was the look.
Recognition without context.
Like she had just realized something was missing and didn't know how long it had been gone.
Chloe dropped beside her, one hand hovering, then settling lightly against her shoulder.
"Hey. Hey, it's fine. Forget it." The words came fast, sharper than she meant them to. "I shouldn't have asked."
Aiva blinked, focusing slowly.
"I'm—" she winced, one hand coming up to her head. "I'm okay. Just... This headache."
"Yeah, no shit," Chloe muttered, already reaching for something to wipe the blood with.
Aiva let out a small breath that might have been a laugh.
"I just need to sleep it off."
She tried to push herself up.
Her arm trembled.
Her balance went again, and she dropped back down with a soft exhale.
On the bed, her roommate stirred, just enough to lift her head slightly, eyes half-opening in that unfocused, not-quite-conscious kinda way.
"…mm?"
Aiva didn't look at her.
"I'm fine," she said, voice steadying. "Go back to sleep."
The roommate's eyes lingered for half a second, then closed again, head dropping back into the pillow.
Gone.
Aiva shifted, slower this time, staying seated.
"You should go," she said to Chloe. "Start without me. I'll... nap."
Chloe didn't move for a second.
Then she nodded, once.
"Yeah."
She stood, the motion sharper than necessary.
"Sorry," she added, already turning toward the door.
Aiva gave a small, distracted wave.
Chloe stepped out.
The door closed behind her with a soft click.
The corridor felt longer on the way out.
I shouldn't have pushed it.
***
"…and then I made my way here."
The underground hall settled back into itself around the last word, the dim flame in Adam's hand catching the edge of Chloe's face as she leaned back into the bean bag.
A silence settled between them.
Not hollow, but full of unspoken thoughts. Processing. Adam held her gaze for a moment before letting out a slow, measured breath.
"That's—" He shook his head once. "That's bad."
"Yeah."
"But also…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Not surprising."
Chloe's eyes snapped to him.
"What."
He shrugged slightly, one shoulder lifting.
"She's… too good," he said. "For 'normal childhood' to cover all of that."
Chloe sat up straighter.
"That's not—" She stopped, recalibrated. "I'm good."
He looked at her.
"And my childhood was plenty fine," she added, sharper now. "Those are separate things."
Adam's mouth twitched.
"Denial is a river in Egypt."
Chloe blinked.
"What does Egypt have to do with anything."
He opened his mouth.
Closed it.
"Nothing," he said. "Forget it."
She narrowed her eyes slightly.
Then let it go.
The silence that followed was different.
The story sat between them, fully formed now.
Neither of them reached for it.
Neither of them said her name again.
They didn't need to.
The conclusion settled in the space without being spoken.
Adam looked down at the floor.
Chloe leaned back again.
And they both left it there.
Chloe pushed herself up from the bean bag.
"Okay," she said, brushing her hands against her legs. "We should train, we've been sitting for too long."
Adam didn't move.
She glanced at him.
"Come on."
He stared at the flame in his hand.
"Not tonight."
"Why."
He let out a small breath.
"I'm tired."
"So am I," she shot back. "That's not new."
"Lets do this tomorrow."
"No."
He didn't respond.
Chloe stepped closer, planting herself in front of him.
"Get up."
He shook his head, slow.
"I can still hear them," he said.
That stopped her.
"Even here," he added. "It's quieter, but—" He tapped his temple lightly. "It doesn't turn off."
Chloe's mouth closed.
"I tried to sleep," he went on. "Couldn't. Tried to study. Couldn't."
His shoulders lifted slightly, then dropped.
"So I came down here."
A small, humorless huff.
"Figured I'd wait until everyone else passed out. Then maybe it'd be quiet enough to—" He shrugged.
Chloe stared at him.
Oh.
The word landed cleanly.
She exhaled slowly.
Training helps.
Movement helps.
Doing something helps.
She knew that.
She also knew,
That's not this.
The hall pressed in around them, quiet and steady.
Chloe looked at him.
Then down at her own hands.
Then back at him.
Something in her expression shifted.
She held out her left arm.
Palm up.
Adam frowned slightly.
"What are you—"
Her right hand lifted, fingers straightening into a precise line, angled toward the inside of her elbow.
"Secare."
The word left her mouth like something she had used before.
Because she had.
The line of blue light appeared instantly.
Thin.
Exact.
It traced across her forearm in an instant...
And then her arm came off.
It hit the floor with a sound that didn't belong.
Wet. Solid. Wrong.
For half a second, there was nothing.
Then...
Blood.
Immediate. Bright. Too much.
Chloe sucked in a sharp breath that broke into a hiss, her entire body locking as the pain hit—real, blinding, tearing up from the point of severance and flooding outward.
"—shit—"
Her knees buckled and she dropped back onto the bean bag, clutching at the space where her arm had been, breath coming fast and uneven.
Her eyes burned.
She blinked hard, once.
Didn't manage to stop the water that followed.
"Adam—" Her voice came out tighter than she wanted. "Heal it."
He didn't move.
For exactly one second, he was completely still.
Shock.
Pure. Unfiltered.
His eyes on the arm on the floor.
The blood pooling and the space where it should have been.
Chloe's vision sharpened.
"Hey." Her voice cut through, sharper now. "You need to—" She sucked in another breath as a fresh wave of pain hit. "You need to calm down or I'm going to bleed out and die and I would really prefer not to do that tonight."
That did it.
He blinked.
Hard.
Something in his expression snapped back into place, not calm, not fully, but functional.
His hands came up.
"Okay," he said, more to himself than to her. "Okay."
He looked at her arm.
No... he looked through it.
Past the blood, past the damage.
His eyes focused.
Chloe watched it happen.
The shift.
He wasn't seeing what was there.
He was seeing what should be.
Muscle layers.
Bone.
Tendons threading through joints.
Nerves.
Skin.
He inhaled slowly.
Then moved.
His hands hovered over the wound, not touching at first, Lumen gathering faintly around his fingers, warm and golden.
It connected.
Chloe felt it.
A warmth, low at first, then spreading, sinking into the open edge of her body and pressing inward.
It wasn't instant.
It wasn't clean.
It was… building.
She felt the first pull as something inside her aligned,
bone, knitting from the center outward, a dull pressure that was almost worse than the cut because it moved.
She clenched her jaw.
"Okay," Adam muttered. "Okay, that's... good—"
Muscle followed.
Layer by layer.
Not growing so much as… assembling.
Chloe could feel each part as it came back, the strange, wrong-right sensation of something returning to a place it had just left.
Her breath hitched.
"Keep going," she said, quieter now.
"I am."
Skin came last.
Closing over everything else, sealing the edges, the warmth intensifying for a moment before settling.
The blood slowed and then stopped, revealing her arm.
whole and complete.
Chloe stared at it in disbelief before flexing her fingers; they moved effortlessly. She rotated her wrist, and it obeyed the motion perfectly. A long, shaky breath escaped her.
Across from her, Adam sank back, landing hard on the floor as his gaze shifted between the severed arm lying nearby, the dark pool of blood beneath it, and the arm now restored to Chloe. Finally, his eyes lifted to meet hers.
"What the fuck...," he began, voice not even trying to be calm, "was that."
Chloe wiped at her face with the back of her hand, the one that existed.
"I needed you to stop being sad," she said, like it was obvious.
He stared at her.
"That was the best thing you could come up with?"
"It worked."
He opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Looked at the arm again.
Then back at her.
"…We have to clean this up," she added, glancing at the floor. "Otherwise it's going to be a little hard to explain to Aiva tomorrow."
"A little?" he echoed.
There was a pause, and then they laughed: unrestrained, unapologetic.
It broke out of both of them at once, sharp and sudden and completely real, the kind that came from somewhere deep and didn't care how it sounded.
Chloe bent forward slightly, one hand braced against her knee, the other, new, hovering like she still didn't entirely trust it.
Adam leaned back against the wall, head tipping up as the sound left him.
The arm was still on the floor.
The blood was still there.
Everything about it was wrong.
And it was
fine.
Eventually, the laughter tapered off, leaving something quieter in its wake.
The room felt different.
Not lighter.
Just… settled in a new way.
Chloe straightened, exhaling.
"…Okay," she said, glancing between him and the mess. "We need a plan."
Adam huffed a small breath, still catching up.
"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, we do."