Seraphina didn't realize she'd stopped breathing until the cold stung her lungs.
The Hall of Whispers was nothing like she'd imagined. She had expected yet another carved stone corridor, another test with glowing runes and dramatic warnings. But this… this was a world folded in on itself — shadows suspended in liquid air, whispers sliding like silk through invisible cracks, the temperature dipping low enough that even her magic shivered against her skin.
The moment she stepped inside, the door sealed behind her.
Then the silence broke — not with sound, but with sensation.
Something noticed her.
Seraphina swallowed hard and forced herself forward. The stone floor beneath her boots was polished smooth, but the deeper she walked, the more she had the unsettling feeling that the ground shifted ever so slightly, as though it remembered every footstep taken over the centuries.
And it did remember.
This place was alive with memory.
Her shadow stretched in front of her, thinner than normal, too thin — unnaturally elongated as though the Hall was pulling at it. She stopped instantly.
"Not today," she muttered.
Her shadow twitched… then snapped back to her feet as if yanked by a leash.
Every instinct screamed at her to run, but that wasn't an option.
Not with the Vault, not with whatever Thorn wasn't telling her, not with Elijah and Darian now tangled in magic that was, in truth, connected to her far more deeply than they knew.
She couldn't fail this trial.
She wouldn't.
She didn't even hear him approach — she felt him first.
Elijah's presence always brushed the edges of her mind like heat trying to settle into her bones. But here, the sensation was sharper, more urgent. When he stepped from between the drifting shadows, he looked as though he'd been running.
"Seraphina—" Elijah's voice cracked in a way she had never heard. "You shouldn't be in here alone."
Her heart stuttered. "Elijah? How did you get in here? This hall only lets in—"
"Those bound to the Trial," he finished. His jaw clenched. "That includes me."
That made her blink. "You're tied to my trial?"
He didn't answer right away, and that terrified her more than any whisper crawling along the walls.
"Elijah… what aren't you telling me?"
His eyes held a silent, painful apology. "There's more to your magic than shadow. And more to mine than control." He stepped closer, voice dropping. "Our powers aren't just compatible — they're entangled."
She stared at him. "Entangled?"
"Bound," he corrected quietly. "By something older than this school, older than the Elemental Houses, older than the Vault itself."
Her heartbeat drummed against her ribs. "How can you possibly know that?"
His throat worked, as if forcing the truth out was physically painful.
"Because I've felt your magic since the day you stepped on campus. Before I even saw you."
Her breath hitched.
Elijah never talked like this. He never let his guard down. But here, where shadows stripped everyone down to their truth, he had no barrier left.
"And the Hall responds to it," he continued. "To us. That's why it let me in."
Seraphina swallowed. "So you're saying… this isn't just my trial. It's ours?"
The look he gave her said that scared him more than anything.
Before she could reply, the whispers surged — louder, hungrier — and the air crackled with a magic that felt like it was being pulled from her skin.
Elijah's hand closed around her wrist.
"Stay close."
The words were simple… but the way he said them anchored her in place.
She nodded, and together they moved deeper into the Hall.
Whatever lived in the darkness began testing her immediately.
At first it whispered her name — a soft, coaxing sound, like someone brushing their lips against the back of her ear.
Then it whispered things she'd never said but had thought, tucked away in the deepest cracks of her mind.
You're not ready for this.
You don't belong here.
You don't even know what you truly are.
Each whisper slid between her ribs like a thin knife.
Seraphina forced herself to keep walking.
Elijah's grip tightened. "Don't listen."
"I'm trying," she whispered back. "They're in my head."
He inhaled sharply. "Then I'll drown them out."
"Elijah—"
But before she could tell him that was impossible, he stepped in front of her and lifted her chin slightly, pulling her gaze up to meet his.
His voice dropped low and steady.
"Look at me. Just me."
For a heartbeat, everything else fell silent.
Her lungs finally filled again. The world steadied. It was only when the whispers receded that she realized Elijah's thumb had brushed her jaw, barely a touch, almost accidental.
Almost.
He let go immediately, clearing his throat and turning away — too quickly, too sharply.
Elijah was unraveling. And she had no idea why.
He walked ahead, faster than before, and Seraphina had to hurry to keep pace.
The Hall didn't like that.
The shadows stirred.
A voice — deeper than all the rest — echoed from the ceiling, the walls, the floor… and her own mind.
"He fears the truth."
Elijah froze.
Seraphina's stomach twisted. "Elijah… don't—"
"He fears what became of those who carried your power before you."
Her blood ran cold.
"Elijah," she whispered, "keep moving."
But he didn't move.
Not because he didn't want to… but because someone stepped out of the shadows in front of him.
Someone who wore his face.
Seraphina's breath punched out of her lungs.
Two Elijahs. Same eyes. Same jaw. Same everything — except the one made of shadow smiled with an expression the real Elijah would never use.
The real one reacted instantly, shoving Seraphina behind him.
"Stay close."
The shadow version laughed.
"Oh, she is. That's the problem, isn't it?"
Seraphina expected Elijah to summon his magic. He didn't.
He looked… afraid.
"Elijah?" she whispered.
His jaw clenched.
Shadow-Elijah tilted his head. "Should I tell her? Should I tell her why you didn't want her in this trial? Why you begged Thorn to delay it?"
Seraphina's heart slammed against her chest.
"Is that true?"
Elijah's silence answered for him.
Her stomach hollowed. "Why?"
But before Elijah could respond, the shadow one stepped closer, every movement smooth and taunting.
"She doesn't know what she is," Shadow-Elijah murmured. "And you don't want her to."
Seraphina took a step forward despite Elijah trying to hold her back.
"Then tell me."
Shadow-Elijah grinned — a sharp, delighted thing.
"She is not cursed," he whispered. "She is chosen."
The whisper wasn't just sound — it was force.
She felt it in her bones.
The Hall responded violently.
Shadows erupted from the walls like broken wings, swirling around her, grabbing at her ankles, her arms, her throat. Elijah lunged forward, but the darkness caught him too, pinning him to the floor.
Seraphina struggled. "Let him go!"
Shadow-Elijah stepped closer, bending down until his face hovered inches from hers.
His voice slid into her ear.
"You will not be able to save him next time."
A surge of panic ripped through her chest — then fury, hot and absolute.
Her magic snapped free.
Not shadows.
Not darkness.
Something else entirely.
A pulse of energy exploded from her body, throwing the shadows back like they'd been flung by a hurricane. The Hall trembled. For the first time, the whispers went silent.
Shadow-Elijah's smirk cracked.
Real Elijah forced himself up onto his knees despite the dark still gripping him.
And Seraphina stood — breath shuddering, eyes glowing with something she didn't understand.
"What… was that?" Elijah whispered, awe and fear tangling in his tone.
Seraphina stared at her own hands, trembling with the aftershock of the power.
"I don't know."
But deep inside, something did know.
It unfurled like a secret her body had carried for years.
Before she could speak, the shadows slammed together, folding into a towering figure — faceless and massive, taller than Thorn, taller than anything human.
Its voice reverberated through her bones.
"THE TRIAL OF TRUTH BEGINS."
Seraphina staggered backward as the Hall reshaped itself, the walls melting into an endless maze of darkness and mirrors. The air thickened with ancient magic.
Elijah reached her side, breath ragged.
"We're not done," he said.
"No," she whispered back. "But we're not losing."
Not here.
Not like this.
A path opened before them.
They stepped into it together.
And the Hall of Whispers closed behind them, sealing them into a truth neither of them were ready for…
…but could no longer run from.