Chapter 6

GREY

As class finally came to an end, I sat on one of the wooden benches lining the hall, gathering my belongings into my bag. My black hoodie lay beside me, the edge of its hood torn off from the little fight I had earlier.

Wonderful. It was my favorite hoodie too.

I picked it up and examined the damage, pulling at the loose threads. I could only hope that I would be able to fix it.

As I did that, I heard the whispers around me. Unfortunately, due to my opponent wanting to display his power and superiority, I was now the topic of attention.

“He’s a mixed-blood?”

“Apparently.”

“That’s pathetic. What did he expect?”

“Did you see how he just stood there? He didn’t even try to fight back.”

“Utterly weak.”

“I almost feel bad for him.”

Someone laughed. “Why? If he can’t defend himself, he shouldn’t be here.”

I grabbed my bag, trying not to pay them attention. It wasn’t like I hadn’t heard worse.

At least, no one was attempting to throw acid on my face this time.

“Hi.”

I looked up.

A girl stood in front of me, clutching her bag to her chest. She shifted her weight, looking uncertain about her decision to approach me.

“It’s hard, isn’t it?”

I tilted my head.

She hurried to clarify. “Being targeted by the Elite Five. I know what that feels like.”

“Elite Five?”

“Yes. Nicholas and his friends. That’s what everyone calls them because they belong to powerful, high-ranking families. It’s fitting, isn’t it?”

I considered that for a moment. An elite group comprising privileged, arrogant people. How predictable.

“I guess.”

She seemed relieved that I’d responded.

“Anyway, it’s a good thing you didn’t try to fight him.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

She nodded. “Absolutely. Mixed-bloods like us need to stay low-key to avoid trouble.”

Mixed-bloods like us. I looked at her properly this time.

She looked like she was around my age, with a slim build and warm, copper-toned skin. Her auburn hair fell in loose waves just past her shoulders, and a few strands were tucked behind her ears, revealing small gold earrings.

Her eyes were a striking amber, almost golden when the light caught them.

“Trust me,” she continued. “I’ve learned that the hard way. People like Nicholas don’t take kindly to anyone they consider beneath them. Especially when they come from families like ours.”

She glanced around before lowering her voice. “He’s not the worst of them, actually. At least, not when he’s in a good mood. Last semester, a mixed-blood challenged one of his friends in the Crucible. Things got pretty ugly. The boy ended up in the infirmary for days.”

“And? What happened?”

She hesitated. “Nothing happened. The whole thing was quietly dismissed.”

“So nobody did anything?”

She gave a small, humourless laugh. “Welcome to the academy.”

I returned my attention to my hoodie.

I’d met plenty of people like Nicholas. Purebloods with impressive family names, inherited fortunes, and enough political influence to make entire communities bend over backward for them.

They had a particular way of looking at people like me. Like our existence was nothing but an inconvenience. I’d learned a long time ago that arguing with them was pointless. Fighting them was even worse.

But it wasn’t for the reasons she thought.

I wasn’t here to prove myself to some arrogant third-year. I wasn’t interested in climbing the academy’s social ladder or earning the approval of people who considered my existence an insult.

I had something else to do. Something more important.

My fingers brushed against the small pendant beneath my shirt. I quickly withdrew my hand.

I couldn't afford to draw attention to myself. Not when I was so close to finding what I was looking for.

My identity needed to remain concealed. That meant keeping my head down, avoiding unnecessary confrontations, and allowing people to underestimate me.

“Anyway,” the girl said, interrupting my thoughts. “I should probably introduce myself. I'm Aria. First-year fire mage.”

She looked at me expectantly.

I sighed internally. “Grey. First-year air mage.”

She smiled. “Nice to meet you, Grey. I hope things get better. And if you ever need someone to talk to, you can always—”

My phone pinged.

I reached into my pocket.

A notification appeared on the screen.

Vincent: I need to see you. I have an update.

I stared at the message.

My thumb hovered over the screen. Another message appeared before I could reply.

Vincent: Grey, I think I've found her.

My breath caught.

For a moment, the noise of the training hall seemed to fade into the background.

She's been found.

I read the message again.

A strange warmth spread through my chest, followed by something I hadn't allowed myself to feel in months.

Hope.

But before I could type a response, another message appeared.

Vincent: There's a complication. You need to see me immediately.

My fingers tightened around the phone. A complication? What did that even mean?

Was she in danger?

Was she…

I gulped before the thought could complete itself. No. She couldn’t be. The bond was still alive and throbbing in my chest. Faint, maybe, but it was still there.

“Grey?”

I glanced up to find Aria watching me. “Sorry. I have to go.”

I shoved my phone into my pocket and quickly gathered the rest of my things.

“Wait—”

I was already heading toward the exit.

“Mr. Storm?”

I stopped.

Professor Thornfield stood near the main entrance, her hands folded neatly in front of her.

Even standing perfectly still, she seemed connected to the earth beneath her feet.

“Do you have a moment?”

I glanced toward the exit. I needed to see Vincent, but I couldn’t just disregard my professor.

I sighed. “Yes, Professor?”

She approached, her expression softening. “I wanted to apologize for Mr. Ashbourne’s behaviour earlier.”

I stayed silent.

“His conduct was unacceptable. The Crucible is intended to help students develop their abilities, not provide an opportunity for harassment or discrimination.” She paused, studying my face. “I hope you understand that his actions do not reflect the values of this academy.”

There it was. The familiar speech.

“We have strict policies against discrimination,” she continued. “And I want you to know that you can always come to me if you experience anything similar. If you need help or protection, my door is open.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Professor.”

She gave me a small smile. “You’re welcome. And don’t let anyone make you feel as though you don’t belong here. You’ve earned your place just like every other student."

I nodded again. Then I quickly walked past her.

What a load of rubbish. 

They all said the same things. 

‘You belong here.’

‘We don't tolerate discrimination.’

‘You can come to us if you need help.’

Beautiful words. Reassuring words. I’d heard them all before.

I’d also seen those words fade to nothing when the time came to put them into action.

I'd been stepped on by too many Purebloods and too many people in positions of power to take any of them seriously.

Perhaps Professor Thornfield was different. Perhaps she genuinely meant what she'd said.

It didn't matter.

I wasn't here to find decent people.

I pushed through the doors and stepped into the afternoon sunlight.

My phone felt heavy in my pocket.

I pulled it out again, rereading Vincent's messages.

My earlier excitement had begun to give way to something else.

Anxiety.

Where was she? And why did Vincent sound so worried?

I started walking faster.

Whatever it was, I needed answers.

I’d waited too long. I wasn’t going to let anything stand between me and finding her now.