Professor Stellaris surveyed the scene—the rift, the trio, and the remnants of the Nyxarachne. Her lips tightened as she tilted her head, eyes narrowing.

  "Impressive," she said, her voice edged with something unreadable. "I didn’t think the three of you could do this alone. You've stabilized it—for now."

  Seraphina barely registered the words. The hum of the rift faded to a faint pulse. They’d done it—the rift was closed. But the questions still hovered, like dark clouds. Trust gnawed at her. After Umbra, after the guardians… how much did they really know? What were the professors hiding? And how could she repair the trust with her friends?

  Professor Astra’s voice broke through her thoughts.

  "A Nyxarachne. Unusual for it to be out in the twilight, but it appears it was using the rift as an energy source. I’m not surprised."

  Alessa stiffened at the mention of the creature, remembering how close it had gotten to killing her. Her jaw tightened, eyes flicking toward Seraphina.

  Professor Stellaris turned her focus back to where the rift had been, her expression unreadable.

  "How did you stabilize the anomaly?" Her tone was sharp, expectant.

  Alessa spoke first, her voice steady but laced with tension.

  "We lured the Nyxarachne away from its power source and defeated it. Then, we focused on the rift’s energy. I wove the Veil’s threads as Astra suggested. The surges were wild, unpredictable, but Sera’s light stabilized it, and Thorne's harmonic resonance amplified everything."

  She didn’t mention Lumos. Or Caelithor. The reason they’d survived, the true reason the rift had been sealed. Seraphina could feel Alessa’s calculated silence. They both knew it was better left unsaid.

  Stellaris raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. Her gaze shifted to Thorne, who had stayed unusually silent. His face was pale, eyes shadowed. After a long moment, she spoke again, her voice softer, as if trying to draw something out of the group without forcing it.

  "Thorne, you’ve been quiet. What was your experience?"

  He met her gaze, his expression impassive.

  "We held it together." His words were final, a wall he built around himself.

  Astra’s eyes were still fixed on where the rift had been, her voice barely audible.

  "This tear... couldn’t have occurred spontaneously. There’s something darker behind it. Its origins..."

  Thorne’s voice cut through the silence, blunt and frustrated.

  "So we’ve sealed the rift. But what happens now? What about Umbra?"

  The professors didn’t answer. Their silence felt heavy, a barrier between them and the students.

  Seraphina’s chest tightened. Thorne wasn’t wrong—too many questions, too few answers. The rift was closed, but the unease lingered.

  Stellaris was the first to speak, her voice smooth, but something distant in her eyes suggested the weight of old wounds.

  "The rift’s closed, but the Veil’s stability is still in question. If this breach was deliberate, we can’t rule out others. Forces we don’t fully understand are at play here." She remained perfectly still, hands clasped behind her back. The coldness in the air seemed to intensify in her presence, a subtle but unnerving tension that mirrored her thoughts.

  Astra shifted, her fingers tapping a rapid, irregular rhythm against her robes. Her calm was betrayed by the sharpness in her eyes, which darted to where the rift had been, as though it might speak the truth she couldn’t voice.

  "Umbra didn’t act alone. If she's working with whoever's behind the rift, we're in deeper trouble."

  Professor Sylvorel broke in, his tone smooth but weighted with concern, a battle-hardened edge showing through.

  "The rift wasn’t just an accident. Whatever’s behind this, we’ve underestimated it."

  Thorne’s frustration bubbled over.

  "Are we really just going to forget she attacked us? Nearly destroyed the island?"

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Stellaris’s gaze flicked toward him, cold and calculating, then quickly slid away, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn’t respond immediately, but when she did, her voice held the weight of a hidden decision.

  "Umbra’s dangerous," she said, her tone measured, though there was a barely perceptible crack in her facade. "But we can’t rush in blindly. We don’t fully understand what we’re dealing with."

  Her eyes flickered toward the horizon, betraying a momentary hesitation. Seraphina caught it, sharp and unsettling.

  Astra stepped forward, her usual calm replaced by an undercurrent of urgency.

  "We’ve no time for caution if Umbra’s behind this. We need to confront her, now. We need accountability for what she’s done."

  The silence pressed in on everyone. The students, on edge, could sense the weight of unspoken words—the professors’ guarded decisions, and their reluctance to confront the full truth.

  Alessa crossed her arms, her stance defensive.

  "What now? We wait again? Let Umbra make her next move while we try to catch up?"

  Her calm was a fragile mask. Her words cut through the tension like a blade.

  Stellaris hesitated, then spoke, her voice quieter now, almost as if regret was settling in.

  "Astra, I understand your need for haste. However, we need to understand the full picture before we act. Rushing in could make things worse."

  Thorne leaned in, eyes narrowing.

  "What’s really going on? What aren’t you telling us?"

  Stellaris’s gaze shifted again, her eyes tracing the darkening horizon, as if looking for something she couldn't find. The rest of the world seemed distant to her—her thoughts locked behind the cool, controlled exterior she wore.

  Astra’s voice broke the stillness, more intense than before, her frustration barely contained.

  "Umbra’s only a piece of the puzzle. There’s something bigger behind this, and we’re running out of time."

  Sylvorel met Astra’s gaze, his expression unreadable but laden with something unsaid. He didn’t have to speak; the weight of their shared knowledge was in the air, thick as fog.

  Seraphina’s voice sliced through the silence, her frustration spilling over. "What aren’t you telling us?" The question was raw, desperate. She no longer cared about the professors’ secrets. She just needed answers.

  The professors exchanged a look—an unspoken agreement to keep things buried.

  Astra spoke at last, her voice quieter, more measured. "We’ll need to reinforce the wards in this area before we leave to ensure the rift doesn’t reopen. You three will return to Nova while we handle the adjustments." Her gaze lingered on Thorne and Alessa just a moment too long before turning away.

  Thorne nodded stiffly, his gaze pointedly avoiding Seraphina. Alessa, equally distant, turned away without a word.

  Seraphina stood frozen, watching them walk away. The space between them felt wider than it ever had before. They had confronted the professors together, unified in their confusion and fear, but now—now it was clear. The truth she had kept from them, the truth about Lumos, still hung in the air between them like a heavy fog.

  Her boots scraped against the rocky ground. The silence was oppressive, thick with the weight of unsaid things. When she looked up, half-expecting to see her friends still ahead, they were gone. Already out of sight.

  The twilight sky above bled into hues of violet and gold. And then, like a flicker of hope in the encroaching darkness, Lumos' light shimmered before her.

  The presence settled around her, ethereal, familiar.

  "Seraphina," Lumos whispered, softer now. "You are not alone, even if it feels that way."

  The distance between her and her friends felt unbearable. The silence, the unspoken words between them—they stung. How could she bridge that gap when she'd kept so much hidden?

  Lumos' light pulsed gently. "The bond you share with them doesn’t break so easily. The truth will come when the time is right. You need not carry this burden alone."

  Seraphina swallowed, fighting the tightness in her chest. "But I lied to them... How do I fix this?"

  Lumos' glow softened, a calming presence. "The truth can be found again. Trust in yourself and the strength you’ve always had. You’ll find your way."

  She wanted to ask more, but the light flickered out, leaving her in the heavy silence that followed.

  The academy... built on unstable power. The very ground beneath their feet was feeding the darkness. And Umbra wasn’t the only one pulling at those threads.

  Alessa’s sharp voice broke through the haze of her thoughts. "Seraphina! We need to go!"

  She turned to see her friends mounted on Nova, their faces unreadable. Alessa avoided her gaze, her posture tight. Thorne sat with unnatural stillness, fingers twitching like the harmonics they'd just wielded still clung to him.

  What happened to us? Seraphina wondered, climbing behind them. They had been through so much, and now it felt as if the very space between them had cracked wide open.

  Nova ascended smoothly, but the air around them felt thick, heavy with the weight of things unsaid. Seraphina glanced back one last time at Nyxara, its shadowy form receding below them. The island pulsed with unanswered questions.

  Ahead, Aetheria Academy loomed, its towering spires jagged against the darkening sky. Seraphina’s heart tightened. It wasn’t safety they were flying toward—but something darker, something more insidious.

  As the academy grew larger on the horizon, a deep sense of foreboding settled over her. The real battle wasn’t with Umbra. It wasn’t even with the rift.

  It was with the secrets that were tearing them apart.