Chapter 322: Tracing The Lines

Noah sat alone in the infirmary ward, the thin blanket pulled up to his waist.

The rest of the room sat quietly around him. After all, he had the entire ward to himself.

The guards outside the door spoke with whispers, their presence a constant reminder that he was no longer trusted to stand alone, even now.

He had declined to give Queen Ines an answer.

I’ll think about it, he’d said.

And now, he was thinking about it.

The truth was cruel in its simplicity. The answer itself was obvious. It had been the moment Lady in Dark finished speaking. The moment the scales tipped and refused to balance no matter how hard he tried.

What remained was not what he would do.

It was when.

And how.

He exhaled slowly, staring at the faint reflection of himself in the window. Pale. Weaker than he remembered.

Right now, all he is was a ticking clock slowly counting down to zero.

Even if he chose to summon the monolith, he couldn’t do it yet. He was under constant watch.

The academy had stationed guards outside his ward, rotating shifts, citing concern for his safety in his weakened state. No spellcasting without supervision. No wandering the grounds. No privacy.

Protection, they called it.

A cage, more like.

Ironically, the precautions were meant to keep him safe from outside threats. From assassins. From enemies.

If only they knew.

If only they understood that Lady in Dark didn’t need to break through the academy’s defenses. She didn’t need to evade guards or wards or locks.

She’d already been here.

Already inside his head.

Already whispered possibilities that the world refused to offer him.

Noah closed his eyes, pressing his head back against the pillow.

They thought they were guarding him from danger.

They had no idea the danger was waiting patiently for him to make a choice.

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Cecilia was hunched over her desk, shoulders tense, eyes bloodshot as they raced across lines of text.

Books lay open everywhere, stacked on the floor, piled on chairs, and spread across the desk until there was barely space to rest her elbows.

Some were so old their spines had cracked, pages yellowed and brittle with age. Others were freshly pulled from the restricted archives of the acaemy—without permission, of course— their margins already filled with her hurried handwriting.

She was close. She could feel it.

Her breath hitched as she flipped back a page, then forward again, confirming the passage.

Without hesitation, she grabbed a quill and began scribbling furiously onto a parchment already dense with notes, arrows, and frantic underlines.

Mana consumption rates. Symbiotic parasite behavior. Host affinity thresholds. Her handwriting grew tighter, faster, as the pieces aligned.

A door opened behind her.

Cecilia didn’t notice.

Professor Faye stepped inside, took one look at the state of the office, and sighed.

She closed the door quietly and crossed the room, careful not to trip over the stacks of books threatening to collapse.

“Cecilia,” Faye said.

No response.

She moved closer. “Cecilia.”

Still nothing.

Faye leaned down, her voice firmer. “Cecilia Pendragon.”

Cecilia finally looked up, blinking as if she’d been pulled from another world. For a moment, confusion clouded her face, then recognition, and relief.

“Faye,” she said, straightening slightly. “Good. I needed you.”

Before Faye could say anything, Cecilia reached for several books and shoved them into her hands.

“I want a second opinion on these Chapters. Especially the sections on parasitic mana convergence and draconic anomalies.”

Faye stared at the books, then back at Cecilia. “When was the last time you slept?”

Cecilia waved the question away. “That’s not relevant. Look at page two hundred and seventeen. No, two hundred and twenty-four first. The author contradicts himself, but the footnote is fascinating.”

Faye didn’t move. “You didn’t show up to teach a single class today.”

“They’re not important,” Cecilia said immediately. “This is.”

Faye’s jaw tightened. “Cecilia—”

“Noah is dying,” Cecilia snapped, then froze, as if realizing she’d spoken aloud. Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t have time to rest.”

Faye set the books down gently. “You won’t help him if you collapse.”

Cecilia opened her mouth to argue, then hesitated. The room swayed slightly, and she pressed a hand to the desk to steady herself. After a long moment, she exhaled sharply.

“Fine,” she muttered. “A nap. But only if you continue the research.”

Faye nodded instantly. “Deal.”

Cecilia barely made it to the sofa before collapsing onto it. Within seconds, her breathing evened out, exhaustion finally claiming its due.

Faye watched her for a moment, expression softening.

Then she turned back to the desk.

She picked up Cecilia’s parchment, eyes scanning the notes. Her brows slowly rose. Dragons. Mana Leeches. Host compatibility. A dark dragon soul merged with a human vessel.

Her breath caught.

“She traced it this far already…” Faye murmured, equal parts awe and concern in her voice.

Marveling at her friend’s brilliance, Faye pulled a chair closer, opened one of the books, and began to pick up from where her friend left off.

She kept reading long after the candles had burned low, her eyes aching as she turned page after page.

She cross-referenced Cecilia’s notes with older tomes, comparing dates, locations, symptoms, and outcomes. Every time she thought she’d found an exception, it circled back to the same source.

Dragons.

By the time the first pale light of morning crept through the windows, her conclusion was unavoidable.

Cecilia stirred on the sofa, groaning softly as she pushed herself upright. Her hair was a mess, her eyes heavy, but the moment she noticed Faye still at the desk, she snapped fully awake.

“How far did you get?” Cecilia asked immediately.

Faye yawned, rubbing at her eyes. “Didn’t sleep,” she admitted. “But… far enough.”

She stood, gathering several parchments and spreading them across the desk. Cecilia leaned forward, scanning them rapidly, her expression growing colder with every line.

“All documented Mana Leech cases,” Faye said, tapping the notes, “trace back to draconic phenomena. Dragon corpses. Dragon monoliths. Dragon-tainted artifacts. Every single one.”

Cecilia’s breath caught. “No exceptions?”

“None,” Faye replied. “Even cases that looked unrelated ended up involving dormant draconic mana decades earlier. It’s not a coincidence. The leeches are drawn to dragons, or things close enough to them.”

Cecilia straightened slowly, her thoughts racing. “Then Noah—”

A high-pitched whistling cut through the air.

Both women froze.

Faye turned towards the window. “Did you hear—”

Something slammed into the glass with terrifying force.

For a split second, Cecilia caught sight of a glowing object embedded in the window frame, runes blazing an angry red.

“Faye!” she shouted.

Then the world erupted.

The window shattered inwards as a violent explosion engulfed the office, fire and force swallowing the room in an instant.

Books were hurled through the air, parchment igniting mid-flight as the blast tore through wood and stone.

The sound drowned out everything.

Then there was only fire.

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