I stop in front of a mirror in the hallway once I’ve dropped off the last new student. I check my uniform, fixing a place where the fabric folded over from the wind on top of the walls. The black fabric is otherwise immaculate, silver trim gleaming at the cuffs and collar. No longer an offering or even a simple aspirant. Now I'm a second-year, a survivor of the Crucible, and my status is marked by two gold bars on my collar. Second year.

Survivor.

Something I never expected to be.

My dark hair is pulled into a tight braid because wearing your hair loose is a liability. I wear it so there’s nothing for my enemies to grab. Nothing to give them an edge. My posture is upright and my shoulders are back naturally, a benefit of hard training day after day for an entire year. And my eyes… they were once blue, but they’re drifting toward silver now. Not the white of an air affinity and not the deep, ocean blue of water affinities. Something else.

When people ask, I tell them it’s because I bound Typhon. Mostly, though, people are too afraid to ask me or talk to me. Stories from the Crucible have circulated heavily in the months since. Months… it’s hard to believe it has been that long since I’ve seen Raith or any of the other second-year legacies, too. They were taken on a secret legacy-only mission by the new Rector as soon as he arrived.

All I have of Raith are those tangled, messy moments together after the Crucible and the ever-present pulse of the tether assuring me he’s alive. Alive, but so, so far away. Physically and emotionally.

Everything that happened in those final days drove a wedge between us, and the time apart only seems to be letting it sink deeper and deeper with every passing day.

"You're scheduled to meet the new water aspirants in thirty minutes," Typhon reminds me, drifting around my head in his least impressive flying fish form. As an ancient, he can take several forms, and the smallest form was his first. It was also the form we agreed he should take in public to avoid drawing suspicion. Now everybody knows he’s a dragon, and I think he likes using the smaller form ironically. "Better hurry if you want to see Mireen's latest... project before your duties begin."

I suppress a groan. "What has she done now?"

"You'll see." His tone carries a hint of mischief that makes me instantly suspicious.

The water tower is quieter than usual this morning. Most second-years, like me, have been assigned to help with the integration of new students. Those who haven’t are trying to enjoy their final day of relaxation before second-year classes begin in earnest.