“If you want me married off so badly, Shireen, why don’t you offer yourself?” The words hung in the air, thick with the scent of ember and danger. Shireen’s mind, usually a whirl of alchemical formulas and half-formed schemes, went utterly blank. Her throat felt dry, her tongue a leaden weight. The heat from Kian’s body pressed against her, making it impossible to think, impossible to breathe. His eyes, the color of storm-tossed jade, held hers captive. There was an intensity in their depths that made her fragmented memory of the Sun-Ruby dagger flash with terrifying clarity. This was it. This was the prelude to the end. He knew. He knew about her, about her past life, about her true talent. He was going to expose her, or worse, make good on her vision of him. “W-what?” she stammered, the sound a pathetic squeak. “Offer… offer myself? For what?” A low, dangerous chuckle rumbled in Kian’s chest, vibrating through her. “Don’t play coy, Nazari. You’ve been parading me around like a prize stallion, desperate to see me wed. Why not cut out the middleman? Marry me yourself.” Her eyes darted around, searching for an escape. The furnaces roared behind her, a wall of impossible heat. Kian’s shoulders blocked her on either side, a living cage. This wasn’t a proposal; it was a trap. A cruel, elaborate joke designed to corner her, to break her. “But… but that’s preposterous!” she blurted out, her voice cracking. “We’re rivals! I’m… I’m clumsy! You said so yourself! We’d be a disaster! An alchemical catastrophe! Our combined potion would probably summon a sentient dust bunny that eats all the Mirrored Citadel’s research notes!” She was babbling, she knew, but the syllables formed a frantic barrier against the glint in his gaze. Kian’s lips twitched, not with humor, but with something sharp and predatory. “A dust bunny, you say? I’d wager it would be remarkably clever, given your hidden talents.” He leaned in further, his voice dropping to a silken whisper that scraped against her nerves. “Don’t pretend you’re a fool, Shireen. I’ve seen you. I saw what you did at the funeral. I saw what you did to Yasmin’s draught. You’re not clumsy. You’re exceptional. And you’re hiding it.” The air left her lungs in a whoosh. He knew. He truly knew. Her carefully constructed facade, years in the making, shattered under his sharp scrutiny. Panic, cold and raw, gripped her. This was the moment her previous life had warned her about. Her death was inevitable if he saw her for what she was. “I… I have to go!” She ducked under his arm with surprising speed, her limbs suddenly light with adrenaline. She didn’t wait for a response, didn’t dare look back. She fled the Alchemical Weavers’ workshop, the roar of the furnaces and the lingering scent of ember chasing her down the echoing corridors. *** Shireen spent the next two days in a state of heightened paranoia. Kian hadn't pursued her, hadn't exposed her, but the threat of his knowledge hung over her like a thundercloud. She knew she had to redouble her efforts. He *had* to be married off, and soon. Her life depended on it. Her latest scheme revolved around the upcoming Midterm Retrieval Exam, a grueling test held down in the Subterranean Mineral Warrens beneath the Mirrored Citadel. The maze was a sprawling, multi-tiered excavation, each tier descending into older, more volatile mineral deposits. Students were tasked with retrieving a specific, coded Shard of Attunement from the designated stone blooms and returning it to the surface within a time limit. Her target was the elegant senior, Leilah Veshani, known for her exquisite lapidary sculpting and an utter disdain for anything less than perfection. The senior was currently positioned on the third tier, near a vivid cluster of Cobalt-Vein geodes—a prime romantic backdrop to nudge Kian into her orbit. “Are you sure about this, Shireen?” Omid whispered, his voice echoing in the vast, gloom-filled entrance chamber. He adjusted the heavy satchel slung over his shoulder, the contents clinking ominously. “Veshani once turned a first-year’s hair into solid quartz for spilling a single drop of elixir near her work. Kian might find her… intimidating.” “Intimidating is good, Omid,” Shireen hissed back, scanning the milling peers. Kian was already slipping into the main corridor, his dark tunic weaving over the jagged mineral floor. “She’ll keep him busy. And he needs someone strong to handle him. Besides, you just need to guide him, like we planned.” Omid puffed out his chest. “Right! Activate the ‘Kian-Coaxing Echo-Stone’ and he’ll be right in her path!” He reached into his satchel, a small, dark object wrapped in cloth clutched in his hand. “I’ve even got a little something extra to impress the Sapphire Faction masters if they happen to see it. It’s glowing a bit, you know, really potent.” Shireen barely registered his words. She was too focused on Kian’s retreating back. “Just get him there, Omid! Don’t mess it up!” Omid, ever eager to please, nodded vigorously. He unwrapped the item in his hand—the ominously glowing eel-stone he’d pocketed from their disastrous gondola date. Its sickly green luminescence pulsed in the grotto's dim shadows, glaring against the bedrock. He held it aloft, ready to activate his supposed lure, when a low thrum began to vibrate through the air. The shard in his hand throbbed violently, flaring bright. A sharp whine ripped through the tunnels, resonating with raw magic deep in the primeval bedrock. “What was that?” Shireen cried, stumbling as the ground beneath them began to judder. Cracks spiderwebbed across the floor, emerald light spitting through every fissure. Omid blanched in terror. “The eel-stone! It’s… reacting!” He tried to shove it back into his satchel, but it glowed brighter, humming with a furious, uncontrolled energy that made the very air crackle. The whine crescendoed into a deafening shriek. The ground beneath Shireen and Omid heaved, then split with a deafening roar. Omid, panicking, screamed and flung the rogue eel-crystal away. It slammed into the bedrock, bursting into sparks that cracked an archaic support pillar. Shireen felt the floor give way completely. A gaping maw of darkness swallowed her whole. She heard Omid’s terrified yell, then a sickening lurch as she plummeted into the black void. Her only thought was of Kian, who had been just ahead. Had he fallen too? Or was she alone? The fall felt endless, a dizzying tumble through absolute darkness. She crashed onto a drift of quartz grit, pain jabbing her ribs. Before she could even groan, a faint light flickered nearby, illuminating a figure untangling himself from a pile of rubble. Kian. “Nazari?!” His voice was sharp with surprise and something else she couldn’t quite place. “What in the Seven Shards happened?” Before she could respond, a guttural shriek tore through the oppressive silence of the uncharted lower level. From the deeper shadows, a colossal sentry emerged, a relic of an extinct era, its jointed obsidian limbs ending in crushing pincer claws. Its single luminescent eye, a crimson furnace, locked onto Kian. Kian cursed, pushing himself to his feet. He barely had time to raise an arm before the sentry lunged, its massive claw arcing down with devastating force, aiming to pulverize him against the jagged quarry floor. Shireen did not hesitate; instinct and hidden craft fused instantly. A dazzling burst of woven luminance erupted from her fingertips, coalescing into a faceted barrier. It wasn’t a simple ward, but a complex weave of interlocking light-gems, intricate as a spider’s web, vibrant as a captured rainbow. It hummed with a resonance that spoke of mastery, carrying force beyond any novice's reach. The iron-tipped claw slammed into the barrier, the concussion shaking the underground chamber, but her light-mesh deflected the blow with a ringing *clang*. Kian froze, staring at the iridescent aegis with sudden, stark comprehension. The bumbling, cheerful peer was gone, replaced by a weaver wielding prism-fire as an impenetrable defense, wielding finesse that easily matched his own. He knew, then, that she had been hiding everything. The construct shrieked, its red lens guttering wildly. The deflected blow had damaged it. With a final, frantic surge, it hurled a raw pulse of unstable arcane energy straight into the rocky ceiling. A deafening crack echoed through the deep. The main support pillar, brittle and cracked, groaned once before exploding into rubble, sealing the passage above with a deafening crash. The air, already thin and heavy, began to hiss, a low, ominous sound that spoke of a rapidly dwindling supply, fading fast into the oppressive silence of their newfound tomb.

The Subterranean Sabotage