Chapter 17: Martial Law

The shadow didn't just fall; it devoured the sunlight, a heavy, suffocating shroud of Imperial steel that smelled of wet horsehair and impending slaughter. 

Dorian’s fingers remained interlaced with mine, his skin a bracing shock of cold against my rising heat. We stood atop the dais of the Great Hall, overlooking the courtyard where, only moments ago, three hundred students had been laughing. The integrated seal—a sun of obsidian and a moon of frosted glass—lay embedded in the flagstones beneath the advancing boots of the Iron Legion. 

General Kael did not march; he loomed. He led the phalanx through the South Gate, his cape a slab of crimson wool that looked like a fresh arterial spray against the gray stone. Behind him, two hundred legionnaires moved in a terrifying, rhythmic clatter, their pikes tipped with star-iron—the only metal forged to pierce a mage’s skin and draw blood before the mana could weave a shield.

"Steady," Dorian whispered. The word carried a trace of frost that misted in the morning air. "Don't give them the fire they’re looking for, Mira."

"They've brought shackles, Dorian," I said, my voice tight. I could feel the embers in my marrow beginning to churn, a low-thrumming hunger to turn the courtyard into a kiln. "You don't bring star-iron for a diplomatic visit."

Kael halted at the edge of the seal. He didn't look at the architecture or the history of the joined academies; he looked at us as if we were a particularly stubborn stain on a map. He didn't offer a salute. Instead, he signaled to a man trailing in his wake—a sallow-faced magister in the slate-gray robes of the High Council.

"Chancellor Vasilias. Chancellor Solari," Kael said. His voice was like grinding gravel. "You are standing on Imperial property currently under investigation for sedition."

"Investigation?" I stepped forward, the heat of my movement causing the air to shimmer. Dorian didn't let go of my hand, his grip a silent anchor. "We have a signed charter, General. The Starfall Accord was ratified by the Ministry of Education and the Arcane Oversight Committee. This school is a sovereign educational zone."

The Council representative stepped forward, unrolling a scroll with leaden weights at the ends. He didn't meet my eyes. He read with a nasal, bureaucratic drone that made the violence of the words feel even more obscene.

"By decree of the High Council and the Imperial Throne, the Starfall Accord is hereby revoked. The 'unnatural magical fusion' practiced within these walls has been deemed a direct threat to Imperial stability. Effective immediately, the academies of Ignis and Glacies are dissolved as a singular entity. Martial law is declared across the grounds. All students are to be processed, categorized by elemental affinity, and detained for reassignment."

A roar of protest went up from the students. Elara, one of my brightest pyromancers, was standing arm-in-arm with a boy from Dorian’s house. She raised a fist, a small flame licking up between her knuckles. 

"Get back!" a legionnaire barked, leveled his pike at her chest.

"Kael, stop this," Dorian commanded. His voice took on the resonance of a glacier shifting. The temperature in the courtyard plummeted ten degrees in a heartbeat. "The students have committed no crime. Mixing affinities is not a violation of the old laws, only a deviation from tradition."

"Tradition is the spine of the Empire, Solari," Kael said. "You've snapped it. You’ve taught these children that their primary loyalty is to each other rather than the crown. That is the definition of an insurgency."

Kael raised his hand. "Separate them. Use the dampeners."

The Legion moved with the precision of a slaughterhouse floor. They didn't target us first; they targeted the bonds. Soldiers surged into the crowd of students, swinging heavy, blunt-edged staves.

"No!" I screamed. I felt the fire leap from my skin, a crown of white-gold flame igniting along my shoulders. 

Beside me, Dorian’s power surged in a beautiful, lethal symmetry. A wall of jagged ice rose from the flagstones, a glittering barrier designed to push the soldiers back without impaling them. It was a masterpiece of defensive weaving—one we had practiced in the quiet hours of the library, blending my thermal expansion with his structural integrity. 

But as our magics met, a high-pitched, tooth-grinding hum filled the air. 

From the shadows of the colonnade, four figures emerged wearing reflective silver masks. The Nullifiers. They carried heavy, brass-bound canisters that began to hiss. A sickly, violet vapor spilled out, crawling across the ground like a predatory mist.

The moment the vapor touched Dorian’s ice, the structure didn't melt—it shattered into fine, useless dust. My fire didn't just go out; it turned inward, the heat rushing back into my lungs until I choked on my own breath. 

"A specific counter-measure," Kael said, watching us struggle. "Developed for this exact 'fusion.' Did you think the Council hadn't anticipated your little experiment?"

Dorian buckled beside me, his face pale as he fought the magical feedback. I reached for him, but a heavy gauntlet caught me by the shoulder, spinning me away.

"Check the affinities!" Kael shouted. "Fire to the East gate! Ice to the West! Anyone who resists is to be treated as a combatant. Lethal force is authorized."

I watched in a haze of pain and fury as the Legion began the shackling. They used heavy iron cuffs engraved with suppression runes. I saw Elara being dragged away from her partner, her fingers clawing at the air as the star-iron clamped onto her wrists. The boy from Dorian’s house was struck in the ribs with a shield and hauled toward the opposite gate. 

"They're children!" I hissed, my voice raw. I tried to summon even a spark, but the violet mist acted like a vacuum, sucking the intent right out of my mind.

"They are assets of the state," Kael corrected. He stepped onto the dais, looming over us. "And you two? You are a contagion."

He leaned in, his breath smelling of stale wine. "One word from me, and the Legion starts clearing this courtyard with steel instead of cuffs. Tell them to submit, or you can watch them die in the colors of their house."

I looked at Dorian. He was on one knee, his chest heaving, his silver hair dampened with sweat. He looked at me, and in that gaze, I saw the same agonizing choice. We could fight and turn this into a massacre, or we could endure and live to find a way back to each other.

"Stop," Dorian said, his voice cracking. "Stand down! Do not resist!"

The cry echoed through the courtyard. The students, seeing their Chancellors defeated, slumped into a terrifying silence. The only sounds were the clicking of locks and the dragging of boots. 

Two legionnaires stepped forward, carrying specialized collars. These weren't the simple cuffs the students wore; they were thick, articulated bands of cold iron lined with needles of star-steel.

A soldier forced my chin up. As the collar snapped shut around my neck, the world turned gray. The internal heartbeat of my magic—the constant, comforting hum of the hearth in my soul—was suddenly, violently snuffed out. It wasn't just the loss of power; it was a physical hollow, a cavernous cold that rushed into my chest where my warmth should be.

I looked at Dorian as they fitted his collar. Unlike mine, his skin began to flush a feverish red. The iron was forcing the cold out of him, just as it forced the heat out of me. We were being hollowed out, mirrored in our misery.

"Take them," Kael ordered.

The soldiers grabbed our arms, dragging us toward separate carriages. I fought them, my heels skidding against the stone, trying to reach for Dorian one last time. 

"Dorian!" 

He reached out, his hand trembling, but the soldiers were a wall of steel between us. Kael stepped into the gap, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"You won't be seeing him again, Solari. The Council has very specific plans for the redistribution of your 'shared' knowledge."

I was shoved toward a black carriage, the interior smelling of old leather and damp. Two guards forced me onto the bench. I scrambled to the window, my hands gripping the cold bars so hard the metal bit into my palms.

As the heavy iron doors of the transport carriage slammed shut, Mira pressed her face to the small, barred window, watching the Legion drive a literal wedge of pikes between the fire-mages and the ice-mages, the physical distance between her and Dorian widening until he was nothing more than a ghost in the gray morning mist.