The library was silent.
Lucian sat alone among shelves of dust and parchment, a candle burning low beside him. He traced the edge of a forbidden tome, its cover scarred by age, its words whispering of things the empire had buried.
Knowledge was more dangerous than steel. And he had stolen enough of it to damn himself ten times over.
Yet as he closed the book and set it back, a flicker of unease crawled through him. A wolf's instinct—the prickling sense of eyes watching, of threads snapping.
Something in his web had broken.
The next morning, he felt it.
The looks. The whispers. Students muttering as he passed, their voices sharp as daggers:
"They say he snuck into the restricted wing.""Forbidden books. Treason.""Ardelion's playing with fire."
Lucian's jaw tightened, though outwardly he walked with the same calm poise as always. He had been careful—meticulous. No one should have known of his visit to the hidden chamber. No one except—
His thoughts stilled.
No one except the friend he trusted enough to share it with.
The Council of Accusation
By midday, the summons came.
The academy's high council sat in judgment: the Headmaster, several instructors, and a robed official bearing the seal of the Inquisition. The chamber was heavy with incense, its air suffocating.
Lucian stood in the center, eyes sharp, spine unbent.
"In the matter of Lucian Ardelion," the inquisitor intoned, "it has come to our attention that this student unlawfully accessed restricted archives. Such actions border upon heresy and treason. The penalty, as you know, is severe."
The words rippled through the council like thunder. Some instructors shifted uncomfortably. Others glared with open disdain.
Lucian met the inquisitor's gaze. "And who, may I ask, has accused me?"
The man raised a parchment, sealed with crimson wax. "Testimony has been provided. By one who claims to have witnessed your trespass."
Lucian's heart stilled as the name was read aloud.
Kael.
The Knife in the Back
It didn't seem real at first.
Kael—the loud, brash boy who had laughed through danger, who had stood at Lucian's side through every sneer and insult—stood now at the council's edge, his eyes shadowed, guilt flickering across his face.
"I… I saw him," Kael muttered. "He told me himself. Said he'd found a secret wing. Said knowledge was power." His hands shook, his voice unsteady. "I thought—at first—I thought it was just boasting. But after the duel… after the rumors… I realized it was true."
Every word was a blade driven deeper.
Lucian felt no outward change in expression. His face remained calm, unreadable. But inside, something cold cracked.
The Headmaster Speaks
Headmaster Veyren's gaze was sharp as steel. "These are grave charges. Yet proof remains lacking beyond testimony. The matter is delicate."
The inquisitor scowled. "Testimony is enough. The empire cannot risk a wolf meddling with forbidden knowledge."
Veyren raised a hand, silencing him. "Perhaps. Or perhaps this is merely a boy's attempt to harm a rival. Either way, the empire does not decide truth by haste. We will deliberate."
The meeting adjourned, but the damage was done. The rumor would spread like wildfire.
Lucian walked out in silence, Kael's eyes avoiding his.
A Quiet Corner
That evening, Kael found him in the courtyard. The torches flickered, shadows stretching across the stone.
"Lucian," Kael began, his voice tight, "I didn't mean for it to go this far. They pressured me. They said they'd strip my family's holdings if I didn't give them something. I thought—I thought if I gave them just a scrap, they'd leave me alone."
Lucian studied him, his gaze like frost. "So you offered me instead."
Kael flinched. "I didn't think they'd act this quickly. I didn't think they'd—"
"You didn't think," Lucian cut him off, voice calm, eerily calm. "You opened your mouth, and you sold me to save yourself."
Kael's hands trembled. "I'm sorry. I swear, I'll fix this. I'll tell them I lied. I'll—"
Lucian's smile was cold. "No. You won't."
Seren's Fury
Later, Seren stormed into Lucian's chamber, eyes blazing. "He betrayed you, and you let him walk away?!"
Lucian didn't look up from the parchment he was writing on. "Killing him would only confirm the accusation. Silence is a better punishment."
Her hands clenched at her sides. "Silence won't stop him. Won't stop the rumors."
Lucian's quill scratched across the page, steady, controlled. "No. But it will show him what it means to live under my shadow. Every moment of his life from now on, Kael will wonder when the wolf's fangs will close around his throat. That is worse than death."
Seren shivered. Not from fear of Kael—but of the boy in front of her.
The Web Tightens
Days passed. The rumors spread, but they twisted.
Yes, Lucian had entered forbidden halls. But some whispered he had done it at the Headmaster's command. Others claimed he was chosen by a secret faction of the empire. A few insisted he had found nothing at all, that the charges were a ploy by jealous rivals.
Truth drowned in lies, and Lucian fanned the flames carefully, never confirming, never denying.
The inquisitor grew frustrated. The council divided. And Kael, once loud and carefree, walked the halls pale and silent, his former laughter curdled into dread.
The Wolf's Lesson
One evening, Lucian found Kael again, alone in the training yard.
The boy jumped as Lucian approached, guilt heavy in his eyes.
Lucian spoke softly, almost kindly. "Do you know why I haven't destroyed you?"
Kael swallowed hard. "Because… because we were friends?"
Lucian's smile was sharp. "No. Because your betrayal is more useful alive than dead."
Kael's face paled.
Lucian leaned closer, his whisper colder than winter. "Remember this, Kael. A wolf forgives nothing. But sometimes… sometimes it waits."
Then he turned and left, leaving Kael trembling in the shadows.
The Empire Watches
By the week's end, the scandal had lost its fire. The council delayed judgment, the Headmaster withheld punishment, and the Inquisition found no proof strong enough to act.
But the empire had seen.
Lucian's name, once tied to whispers of defiance, was now bound to something darker: the forbidden, the untouchable. Some saw him as dangerous. Others as intriguing.
The wolf's legend grew.
Alone Again
That night, Lucian sat by candlelight, quill in hand, parchment before him. He wrote one line and underlined it twice:
Trust is a blade. Hold it too close, and you bleed.
His chest ached, though he did not show it. Kael's laughter echoed faintly in memory, a sound already fading.
He closed his eyes. He had lost a friend.
But in losing one, he had gained something else: clarity.
The wolf would walk alone, if he must.
Better to be alone with fangs than surrounded by traitors.