Elara did not plan to speak.
That was the worst part.
If she had planned it, maybe she would have chosen better words. Maybe she would have been quieter. Maybe she would have listened to the voice in her head that warned her how cruel crowds could be when their stories were threatened.
But Lucien made it impossible to stay silent.
The assembly hall was full—students, instructors, council observers seated high above like distant gods. Lucien stood at the center, light coiled neatly around him, recounting the recent ward breach with practiced calm.
"Thanks to swift action," he said smoothly, "the academy was protected from disaster."
Applause followed.
Elara felt Zara tense beside her.
Lucien continued, "Some individuals, however, acted recklessly—endangering others through uncontrolled shadow manipulation."
Kael's name was not spoken.
It didn't need to be.
Something in Elara snapped.
"That's a lie."
The words rang out far louder than she expected.
The hall went silent.
Lucien turned slowly, surprise flickering across his face before being replaced by concern. "Elara," he said gently, "this isn't the time—"
"You hesitated," she said, voice shaking but clear. "Kael didn't. You didn't stop the breach. He did."
A murmur swept through the room.
Lucien sighed, like a man disappointed but patient. "Trauma can distort memory. You were frightened."
Zara stood. "She wasn't wrong."
Every head turned.
Zara's voice was steady, but her hands were clenched. "I was there. I've been here long enough to know how this works. Kael has been cleaning up messes you get praised for since before Elara arrived."
The council stirred.
Lucien's expression softened further, sadness etched carefully into his features. "This is exactly what I feared," he said quietly. "How easily he manipulates people who want to believe he's misunderstood."
The word manipulates hit like a slap.
"No," Elara said sharply. "You're doing that. Right now."
Gasps followed.
Lucien turned fully toward her, voice calm, almost kind. "Elara, you've been spending time near dangerous influences. The council warned me this might happen."
"Don't," she said. "Don't pretend this is concern."
The headmaster rose. "Enough."
Silence fell again.
"Elara," he said coolly, "you are accusing one of our most trusted heroes without proof."
"I am the proof," she replied.
A mistake.
The hall erupted.
"She's blinded."
"He's corrupted her."
"She was always too curious."
Lucien lowered his head, as if in regret. "I never wanted this to become public," he said. "But if protecting the academy means exposing manipulation, then I'll bear that burden."
Zara laughed—short and bitter. "You're unbelievable."
Lucien looked at her then, and for the first time, the kindness didn't reach his eyes. "You've always resented me, Zara."
"Because you're a fraud."
The council whispered urgently among themselves.
The verdict came quickly.
"Elara of Ravenshade," the headmaster announced, "you are suspended from advanced training pending evaluation."
A pause.
"Zara," he continued, "your access to restricted archives is revoked effective immediately."
The punishment was swift. Public. Final.
Lucien did not smile.
He didn't need to.
As the hall emptied, Elara felt the weight of hundreds of eyes—judging, disappointed, afraid. Zara's hand brushed hers briefly, grounding.
They turned toward the exit—
—and found Kael standing there.
He had heard everything.
His face was unreadable, shadows unnaturally still.
"What did you do?" he asked quietly.
Elara's throat tightened. "I told the truth."
"You weren't supposed to," he said.
Zara stepped forward. "She chose not to lie anymore."
Kael looked at Elara, something raw breaking through his control. "I warned you."
"I know," Elara whispered. "I chose anyway."
For a moment, it looked like he might say something else.
Instead, he turned away.
Lucien passed them then, stopping just long enough to murmur, "Some people confuse darkness for depth."
Kael's shadows twitched violently.
Elara watched Lucien walk into the light—unchallenged, admired—while Zara stood beside her, stripped of protection, and Kael stood alone with guilt written into every line of his posture.
The truth had been spoken.
And it had cost them everything.
As the doors closed behind them, Elara realized something chilling:
The academy did not punish lies.
It punished anyone who threatened the hero.
And from this moment on, Elara and Zara were no longer protected by the story.
They were inside it.
On the wrong side.