"What—" I begin, but he places a finger against his lips, then points toward a clearing ahead.

Two figures are approaching—one tall and imposing. The other is a familiar silhouette that makes my throat tighten. Bastian and... I don't recognize the older man, but I do recognize his ornamental uniform. He's an air primal, and a high ranking one at that. There's also an uncanny resemblance between him and Bastian.

The primal has blonde, nearly white hair and regal features. He's similar height to Bastian and a similar build. I can’t be certain, but I would be shocked if I wasn’t looking at Bastian’s father.

Raith pulls me behind a massive fallen tree, his movements silent as shadow. We crouch together, hidden from view but close enough to hear their conversation. His arm wraps around me, protective and strong as he pulls me against his body. I do my best not to get distracted by the pleasant contact, focusing on the faint conversation I can barely make out.

"—wasting my time with these reports," the primal says, his aristocratic voice sharp with impatience. "I need something concrete, Bastian. Something worth reporting."

"I told you, there's nothing definitive yet." Bastian's voice lacks its usual arrogance, sounding almost defensive. "But the instructors found another body last week. That's three this month."

"Another burned out mark?"

"Yes," Bastian says.

Beside me, Raith goes utterly still. His hand finds mine in the shadows, squeezing in silent warning.

"The implications of a siphon on campus are dire," the primal says with a disappointed sigh. "But it may ultimately serve our purposes all the same.”

"Father, there's something else." Bastian's voice takes on an urgency I've never heard from him before. "You need to use your influence to call off this year's Crucible."

The man folds his arms, scowling. "Call off the Crucible? It has never been done."

"Malakai and Serena are forming a small army. They're making alliances across affinities. I'm worried it's going to be a bloodbath this year."

"It typically is, Bastian. You know this better than most."

"How do you think the tri-emperors will react if half the first-year class ends up dead before graduation? Possibly more?"

His father scoffs. "That won't happen. The majority of students will rush for the objective. Only a few small skirmishes will play out. There will be ten dead. Maybe twenty at most. This has gone on for centuries, Bastian. It's almost always the same."

"Something's different this year. I can feel it. You have to call off the Crucible. With the Council's influence, you could⁠—"