Elias.
I knew from the moment I saw "Adrian Elowen" on the intake list that something wasn't right. The school only got new humans once a decade, and when they did, it was always a spectacle; noble sons and daughters, handpicked and polished. Adrian was supposed to be the latest sacrificial lamb. But the person who walked through those doors had a shadow in their eyes, a step too careful, and a mouth that almost never smiled.
The truth is, it wasn't hard to guess. Maybe the others weren't looking. Maybe they didn't want to see. I'd been watching people for as long as I could remember. My mother used to say I was born old, seeing too much, talking too little. Here, at Umbra Noctis, that habit kept me alive. It also made me notice things I probably shouldn't have.
From the first day, I could feel it: Adrian was always bracing, always measuring the room. Most people who try to hide something get desperate. She got quiet. She was careful about the way she moved, the way she laughed (rarely), the way she dodged questions. And then there was the magic; barely there, like a pulse beneath the skin. Not the kind most humans had, and definitely not something Adrian Elowen should possess.
So, I watched. That's what I do. Not just for Adrian, but for everyone. Some people mistake observation for detachment. In my case, it's a kind of insurance. When you're the neutral party in a school full of supernatural royals and predators, you learn to keep your head down and your senses sharp. Nobody expects much of me, which is exactly how I like it.
Except lately, I found myself expecting things from myself. Annoying, really.
The first time I interfered was during combat training. Kael had Adrian pinned, his face a snarl, the crowd already restless. I watched the way she tensed, muscles trembling; not from pain, but from the effort of not crying out. I slipped a tiny shielding spell under the surface of the ring, just enough to cushion her fall. She still hit the mat hard, but not as hard as Kael wanted. He didn't notice. He never does.
The next day, I cast a subtle ward on her boots. It would keep her from tripping when Lucien "accidentally" swept her leg during drills. I told myself it was just evening the odds. After all, the supernaturals loved to play rough, and the humans… well, they were mostly there to prove a point, not to survive.
Adrian's didn't notice, not at first. She just looked surprised when she landed on her feet instead of the floor, eyes flicking to the spot where she should have been sprawled. She scanned the crowd, confused, but didn't look at me. Good. I don't like being seen.
The problem with helping people is that it gets easier every time you do it. I started leaving little enchantments in places she'd find them; an invisible barrier on her locker to keep out nosy classmates, a charm sewn into the cuff of her sleeve to ward off hexes from the more creative fae. It was simple work, almost lazy, the kind of magic I could do in my sleep. But I found myself checking back, making sure the spells held, refreshing them if I sensed the slightest crack.
Other students started to notice Adrian's "luck." Whispers grew in the halls. Some said she was protected by a secret sponsor. Others claimed she was dangerous, her blood cursed. The rumors worked in her favor and kept the worst of the predators at bay. I told myself that was enough.
But I kept watching.
She was awkward at first, ducking her head whenever the crowd got loud. But she never looked lost. She noticed things; who to avoid, which professors played favorites, which hallways always led to trouble. She was cautious, but not cowardly. She learned fast. If Kael tried to goad her, she'd hold her ground. If Lucien tried to cut her down with words, she just nodded and let the insult slide off like rain on stone.
Rowan noticed her, too, though he pretended it was all a game. He'd drift close, eyes alight with mischief, offering advice or a smile, always watching to see how she'd react. Kael's protectiveness shifted from cruel to territorial. Lucien's coldness became something sharper, more personal. And through it all, Adrian kept her secrets, moving through the day as if she was waiting for the world to call her bluff.
Mira gravitated to her almost instantly, the way shy animals find the safest patch of sunlight. I watched Mira try to make Adrian laugh, offering pastries and whispered stories between classes. Adrian's smile was small but real. Sometimes, I wondered if Mira was the one keeping her afloat, not the other way around.
As for me, I stayed on the edge. That's how I prefer it. But I found myself drifting closer than I meant to, watching Adrian's back whenever the mood in the room shifted. I didn't like the way some of the older students looked at her like she was prey, or worse, an opportunity.
One afternoon, I caught a group of upper-year vampires trailing her after class. They flanked her in the hall, moving just close enough to box her in. She didn't flinch. She slowed her steps, head down, waiting for them to get bored. They didn't.
I stepped out from behind a pillar, cleared my throat, and met their eyes with a bored smile. "Professor Soren wants to see you," I told the leader. "Something about your last essay. Or maybe it's about your last feeding… I forget."
The vampire curled his lip, sizing me up. "This isn't your business, Blackwell."
I shrugged. "Maybe not. But you know how Soren gets about unregistered magic in the halls. Last I checked, she still owed your father a favor."
That did it. The vampires melted away, grumbling. Adrian glanced at me, one eyebrow raised.
"Thanks," she said, voice quiet but steady.
I nodded, slipping back into the crowd before anyone could say more. I didn't do gratitude. It made things messy.
After that, I started paying more attention. It wasn't hard to spot the dangers. Umbra Noctis was built on secrets and sabotage. Everyone here was hunting something. Most of them just wanted power. A few wanted survival. Adrian, though, she wanted something else. I couldn't name it, not yet.
I started keeping wards active in the common areas. If a spell meant for her drifted too close, it fizzled. If someone tried to mess with her locker, they'd find it locked, humming with just enough energy to raise goosebumps. I was careful, always changing the signature, always covering my tracks.
Sometimes, I'd catch Adrian looking around, like she could feel the magic but didn't know what it was. I wondered if she suspected me. She never asked.
Classes blurred together. The only thing that broke the monotony was Professor Mireille Soren. She was too sharp, too young, too beautiful for her job. Most students were half in love with her, the other half terrified. I was a bit of both.
She'd linger at the edge of the classroom, her eyes sweeping the crowd. Once or twice, I caught her looking at me, not the way teachers usually do, but as if she was seeing something I didn't realize I was showing. I hated how much it made me nervous.
Still, when Adrian struggled with a theory assignment, I nudged her notes back across the desk, pointing out a shortcut. She didn't say thanks, but her eyes said it for her. That was enough.
The more I helped, the more annoyed I got with myself. I didn't owe Adrian anything. She wasn't my problem. I was supposed to keep my head down, not attract attention. If anyone figured out I was protecting her, it would ruin everything I'd built here; my neutrality, my safety, my carefully managed distance from every disaster in this place.
So why did I keep doing it?
Maybe it was the way she didn't beg for help, didn't try to win favors, didn't play the games everyone else seemed born to play. Maybe it was the way she kept going, day after day, even when everyone around her wanted to see her fail.
Or maybe I just wanted to see if she'd survive. Maybe I wanted to prove I could save someone, for once, and not regret it.
Late one night, I passed by the North Tower dorm on my way to the library. I paused outside the door, listening. Voices drifted through; Kael's low growl, Rowan's laughter, Lucien's cool reprimand. Adrian's voice was softer, but steady. She was holding her own, at least for now.
I wondered how long that would last.
I found myself wishing I could do more… give her a shield she could wear openly, a way to fight back. But magic was a delicate thing here. Too much, and I'd draw attention. Too little, and she'd get crushed. I had to find the balance.
Back in my own room, I stared at the ceiling and tried not to think about the feeling building in my chest; a mix of protectiveness and dread. I'd started something I wasn't sure I could stop.
The next morning, I watched Adrian cross the courtyard, Rowan shadowing her with that easy smile, Kael just a few paces behind. Lucien trailed, silent as always. They looked like a mismatched pack, orbiting around a star that didn't know it was burning.
I wondered what would happen if her secret came out. I wondered if she'd make it to the end of term.
And I wondered, with a kind of cold, uneasy curiosity, when exactly I'd started to care.