The scent of crushed herbs filled the air, a mix of earthiness and floral sharpness that clung to Kaelin’s skin as she moved through the apothecary wing of Lumen Hollow Academy. Glass jars lined the shelves, neatly labeled with rare and exotic ingredients from across the Zephyrian system. Some were imported from neighboring planets, their properties potent and valuable. Others grew right here on Zephyra, cultivated under the careful watch of students who had spent years honing their craft in herbalism.

  Kaelin Nerys, however, was not just any student. Her family name alone carried weight within the academy’s walls, and while it granted her certain privileges, it also painted a target on her back. The murmurs, the side glances, the sneering remarks from those who had clawed their way into Lumen Hollow through rigorous entrance exams.

  I don't care.

  Yet, no matter how fiercely she repeated those words to herself, a part of her still winced with each whispered insult, each sideways glance. She measured out a pinch of finely ground powder, forcing herself to concentrate on her work. As the tincture simmered, darkening to a perfect emerald, Kaelin's mind wandered. What would it feel like, she wondered, to be accepted simply for who she was, rather than judged for a name she hadn't chosen?

  The potion, a simple healing balm infused with restorative properties, would soothe minor wounds and ease muscle strain—not the most complex of concoctions, but a staple in every apothecary’s arsenal. And right now, with the increased Skythari training with the new school term, these would be in high demand.

  She stepped back, rolling her shoulders, trying to shake off the stiffness from hours bent over her work. The morning light streamed through the high-arched windows, casting golden hues over the polished wooden floors. Outside, she could hear the distant cry of Skythari circling the academy’s aerial training grounds.

  Skythari were an integral part of Zephyran life, from the academy’s training programs to the everyday functions of its people. Their presence wasn’t just ceremonial; they were mounts, aerial messengers, and working companions. Their intelligence, keen senses, and ability to navigate the skies made them invaluable to riders, couriers, and traders. Some were even used in transport, pulling sky-carriages or aiding in the movement of heavy cargo between floating islands.

  Physically, they possessed an elegant yet powerful build, blending feline grace with avian majesty. Their bodies were lean and muscular, built for speed and endurance, with powerful haunches that enabled them to launch into the air with a single, fluid motion. Their wings were vast and feathered, spanning anywhere from 7 to 12 feet depending on their size, allowing them to soar with unmatched agility.

  Despite their aerial nature, their feline musculature made them equally formidable on land. They moved with an effortless, fluid gait, their paws—equipped with sharp, retractable claws—allowing them to grip rocky terrain when needed. A thick, flowing mane framed their heads, running down their necks like a storm-wreathed crest, the texture varying from soft and feathery to coarser strands depending on the breed. Their tails were long and sinuous, often tufted at the end, aiding in balance mid-flight and enhancing their natural elegance.

  They weren’t mere beasts of burden. A rider without a Skythari could never claim mastery of the skies, and a Skythari without a rider lacked the direction and purpose their intelligence needed to thrive. Only the fiercest of the males, called Prowlers, were used for battle, while Flares, the females, were exclusively used for breeding, not meant to be flown with, as they were typically too small to liftoff with a rider.

  Kaelin’s fingers brushed against the worn pages of a nearby journal, filled with her own meticulous notes—observations on plant hybrids, theories on potion infusions, and sketches of rare ingredients she hoped to one day cultivate and publish herself. This was her world, her true passion. She would prove she belonged here by her merit, not merely by birthright.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Her gaze lingered for a moment on the edge of a page—one of her father's old notes, folded between the sheets. A soft pang tightened her chest. She didn’t often allow herself to think about them. Not here, where vulnerability was currency, and emotion could be twisted into weakness. But alone, behind the walls of her apothecary haven, she allowed that ache to flicker.

  She remembered one afternoon, years ago—her father had been teaching her to graft two stubborn herbs together, coaxing them to grow as one. “The plant doesn’t resist if it trusts the hands shaping it,” he had said gently. She had rolled her eyes at the time, but now she understood. Trust was delicate. Hard-earned. And easily broken.

  Outside the apothecary wing, the central courtyard bustled with students. A few Skythari riders were mid-air, practicing sharp dives and spirals. Kaelin had paused on the walkway earlier that morning to observe one of the younger riders nearly collide with a courtyard statue before correcting their trajectory just in time. She’d smirked then, unnoticed, knowing how brutal the training schedule would be in response.

  Even between departments, rivalries ran hot. The Riders and the Alchemy wing barely tolerated each other—one valuing instinct and adrenaline, the other precision and patience. Lumen Hollow encouraged excellence, but it also bred competition. Whispers of sabotage weren’t uncommon.

  A sharp rap on the door pulled her from her thoughts. She turned, arching a brow as a familiar figure stepped into the apothecary wing.

  “Still burying yourself in vials and herbs, I see.”

  Kaelin smirked as Liora, one of the few people she considered a friend, leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. Her deep auburn hair was tied back in a loose braid, strands escaping to frame her sharp, inquisitive features.

  “Some of us have work to do,” Kaelin replied, wiping her hands on a cloth. “Not all of us can spend the morning lounging around the training fields or hide behind musty old tomes.”

  Liora snorted, rolling her eyes playfully. “Please, I'd rather face a battle-trained Prowler than mix another tincture. And for the record, these musty old tomes contain vast knowledge. But seriously, Kaelin, you’ve been here since dawn. Even you need a break. Besides, you should hurry if you want any midday meal. If you stay in here much longer, you'll miss all the gossip.”

  Kaelin sighed, capping the finished vials and setting them aside. “And what exactly is so important this time?”

  Liora’s grin turned conspiratorial as she stepped closer, her voice dropping slightly. “A new student. Rumors say he’s an outsider—completely untested but allowed entry because of a Flare he brought with him. A golden one.”

  Kaelin paused, frowning thoughtfully. “A golden Flare? Are you sure?”

  Liora nodded enthusiastically, eyes wide with excitement. “Unheard of, right? Everyone’s talking about it. They say the academy masters were practically falling over themselves to grant him admission.”

  That did pique her interest. Skythari color variations weren’t unusual, but a golden Flare was something rare indeed. If this student had managed to gain entry based solely on that, perhaps he might understand the feeling of being both admired and resented simply for circumstances beyond his control.

  Still, she hesitated. “You know I don't have time for distractions, Liora. The new student trainings are starting up, and I have to be ready.”

  Liora sighed dramatically, throwing her arms up in mock defeat. “Suit yourself. But don’t blame me when you’re the last to hear the juicy details. Honestly, Kaelin, sometimes I wonder if you even know how to have fun anymore.”

  Kaelin laughed softly despite herself. “Maybe after I finish these vials. I promise.”

  “Fine,” Liora relented, smiling warmly. “Just don't work yourself into the ground, alright? You're brilliant, Kaelin, but even brilliant minds need rest.”

  Kaelin watched as her friend disappeared down the corridor, her laughter fading into silence. With another sigh, she turned back to her workstation. Yet even as she returned to her tasks, her thoughts lingered on the mysterious newcomer.

  Curiosity tugged at her despite herself. Her fingers hovered above the vials, but her gaze shifted to the tall arched windows across the room. A flicker of movement outside caught her eye—something golden and winged sailing briefly into view, just above the edge of the rooftop. Her breath caught in her throat.

  She stepped toward the window, but whatever it was had already vanished. Still, her pulse raced in a way she couldn’t explain.

  Trouble, she thought grimly, has a way of arriving with wings.