A Pulse in the Dark

LYSANDRA POV My sister’s shadow died three days before she did.I didn't know it at the time. I just thought Elara was tired. When she hugged me goodbye at the train station last month, her eyes usually the bright, clear blue of an unthawed lake were dull. Hollow. She told me the Conservatory was draining her. I thought it was just the brutal classes.Now, standing in the freezing center of her empty dormitory, I know the truth. The masters called it a tragic accident. A slip on the glacial bridges. But Elara would have never slipped. I know how she walked. I know how she survived. And her Silhouette, the tether of dark magic every mage at this wretched academy wields, is completely gone.The masters will be here in ten minutes to incinerate her belongings. Protocol, they say, to prevent shadow-rot from spreading.Cover-up, I call it.I drop to my knees, ignoring the sharp sting of the ice floor seeping through my thin uniform trousers. I press my bare hands against the frost-cover

A Glow on the Glass

JI-HOON POV I push open the heavy oak doors of the Chancellor’s wing. My uncle summoned me today, expecting me to cower. I want him to see exactly how untouchable I am.Lysandra walks beside me. Her hand is tucked securely into the crook of my arm. She is my shield, and I am hers. That is the lie we agreed on. But bringing her here is a warning. Let him see I am making alliances right under his nose. Let him see I am not afraid of the man funding the severance rituals.We step into the study. The room is vast, lined with books bound in black leather. The air smells like ink and sharp frost. But it is the floor that draws the eye. It is made of pure, unworked glacial glass."Ah, Ji-hoon," my uncle says. He sits behind a massive desk. His own shadow crawls up the wall behind him, thick and menacing.His eyes drift down to Lysandra."You brought a guest.""My girlfriend," I say. My voice is steady. It carries the exact arrogance he hates.My uncle doesn't look angry. He looks amused.He

Not a Victim

LYSANDRA POV The Sub-Glacial Training Caverns smell like a cracked stone and sweat.Vesper stands across the sparring ring. Her shadow twists over the frost. Her eyes lock on mine. She steps into the light. I step into the trap."Let's see what you have, Lysandra," she calls out. Her voice rings off the high ice walls. Dozens of elite students stop their drills to watch.I keep my hands loose at my sides. My heart thumps in my chest. I have no magic to draw from. If I don't block her attack, she will break my bones. If I don't fake a shadow-strike, the masters will execute me for being a fraud.Vesper flicks her wrist. A thick whip of darkness lashes toward my chest.I drop low. My boots slide on the slick floor. I flick my own right wrist hard. A hidden, spring-loaded dagger shoots from my sleeve. It strikes the ice. A tiny glass vial on the hilt shatters instantly. Compressed frost-powder and blinding fire blasts outward.A thick, blinding cloud of white smoke erupts between us. It

Gray Plums

JI-HOON POV The wood of the door splinters under the weight of a heavy fist.Adrenaline floods my veins. Lysandra’s pulse jumps against my fingers like a trapped bird. She tries to pull her wrist away, but I hold on. She doesn’t belong here, and she has no idea what these masters will do to her if they find her holding that watch."Quiet," I breathe, pulling her hard against my chest. I drag us backward into the narrow, pitch-black space between the frozen wall and Elara's heavy wooden wardrobe. The cold bites through my uniform, but it is nothing compared to the chill of the shadow magic rising to answer my call.Hide us, I command the Silhouette.The magic does not work for free. It never does. The darkness slithers up my legs, wrapping around us like a thick, suffocating blanket. It masks our breathing, our body heat, and our physical forms. But the shadow demands payment.A sharp, tearing pain spikes behind my eyes. I close them, bracing for the loss. Take it.I feel a memory sl

The Cold Side of the Floor

LYSANDRA POV My sister’s shadow died three days before she did.I didn't know it at the time. I just thought Elara was tired. When she hugged me goodbye at the train station last month, her eyes, usually the bright, clear blue of an unthawed lake, were dull. Hollow. She told me the Conservatory was draining her. I thought it was just the brutal classes.Now, standing in the freezing center of her empty dormitory, I know the truth. The masters called it a tragic accident. A slip on the glacial bridges. But Elara would have never slipped. I know how she walked. I know how she survived. And her Silhouette, the tether of dark magic every mage at this wretched academy wields, is completely gone.The masters will be here in ten minutes to incinerate her belongings. Protocol, they say, to prevent shadow-rot from spreading.Cover-up, I call it.I drop to my knees, ignoring the sharp sting of the ice floor seeping through my thin uniform trousers. I press my bare hands against the frost-cove

Thieves and Monsters

JI-HOON POVHer pulse jumps against my fingers like a trapped bird.I watch the exact moment the fiery anger drains out of Lysandra’s face, replaced by raw, freezing panic. She tries to pull her wrist away, but I hold on. Not to hurt her, but to keep her from doing something that will get us both killed.She doesn't belong here. For weeks, I have watched her in the training halls, faking her way through casting by using clever hand tricks and stolen smoke bombs. I knew she was an imposter. What I didn't know was that she was Elara’s sister, or that she had found the one piece of evidence I have been tearing this glacier apart to find.My pocket watch. The one my uncle stole from me the night Elara was murdered."How—" Lysandra starts, her voice shaking.Crunch.Heavy boots step onto the ice bridge just outside the morgue.The sound cuts through the freezing room like a knife. My shadow—the parasitic Silhouette that lives tied to my soul twitches on the floor. It smells the danger."Qu