Chapter 5
Ellie sits in class, pretending to take notes, but her mind keeps drifting back to Sonny. He shows up at the apartment and attends class only one or two days a week, yet his grades are excellent. He stays ranked dead last, he cannot use magic, refuses to challenge anyone, and still beats her and Bull, two top twenty students, like it is nothing. None of it makes sense, and that is what bothers her most.
She tells herself that she is only thinking about him because he stood up to Bull. Because he cooks for her. Because he acts like the world is a puzzle he is trying to solve. Still, the thought slips in anyway - if she is thinking about him this much, does that mean she likes him. Ellie feels her face heat up. Then the professor calls her name, and she snaps back to reality.
After class, one of Ellie’s classmates catches her in the hallway, buzzing with excitement. "It’s my birthday this weekend and me and my roommates are throwing a party," the girl says. "Since we have a house, we have the space, and I want it big. Tell everyone."
Ellie laughs. "You’re going to get in trouble."
"Only if it’s not legendary," her friend replies.
Ellie promises she will spread the word, but as she walks away, her first thought is Sonny. Would he even go to something like that? Would he stand in a corner like he does in class, silent and watchful. Or would he disappear the moment someone tries to talk to him. All he does is train.
Later that day, Sonny is at the apartment with the TV on low as he cooks. Ellie walks in and leans on the counter, watching him for a moment. "Have you ever been to a college party?" she asks.
Sonny stirs the pan. "Not a college party. I have been to a party before, but it was not for fun. It was work."
Ellie squints. "That sounds terrible."
"I did not think much of it," Sonny says.
"You should come with me this weekend," Ellie says. "My friend is throwing a birthday party."
Sonny does not look up. "I would rather train."
"Your life cannot revolve around training," Ellie says. "And I made a pact with you. You asked me to help you have human experiences. This would qualify."
Sonny pauses like he is weighing the words. "Then I will go," he says.
Ellie tries not to smile too hard. "Good."
Sonny plates food, then asks without warning, "What is dating?"
Ellie nearly drops her fork. "What."
"On the show," Sonny says, gesturing toward the TV, "two people say they are dating. Is it like marriage?"
Ellie’s face goes hot. "No. It’s not marriage. It’s when two people like each other and spend time together. It’s… a trial. Sometimes it turns into marriage, sometimes it doesn’t."
Sonny considers this. "Have you dated anyone?"
Ellie’s embarrassment flips into irritation. "That is none of your business." She grabs her plate and storms to her room.
The weekend arrives. As Ellie gets ready in the apartment, she is blabbering to herself because she is nervous and excited.
Sonny watches her pace. "What happens at a birthday party?" he asks.
Ellie stops mid-step. "It’s a celebration. People eat, drink, talk, and have fun."
She tilts her head. "You’ve never celebrated a birthday?"
Sonny’s expression stays flat. "I have heard of birthdays. They were not part of my life."
Ellie’s smile fades. "No one ever did anything for your birthday?"
"I do not know my real birthday," Sonny says. "There is no record."
Ellie stares at him, not sure what to say. Then she forces the moment back into something lighter. "Mine is March 22nd, and don’t forget it," she says, like she is handing him a random fact.
On the walk to the party, Ellie keeps thinking about how it will look, the two of them arriving together. People will talk. She tries to laugh it off. "If we show up together, people might think we are together," she says.
Sonny glances at her. "Oh. Like in the show."
Ellie laughs despite herself. "Yes. Like in the show."
Sonny’s mouth lifts in the smallest smile. "Okay then."
Ellie freezes for half a second. Even if slight, it is the first real smile she thinks she has seen from him.
The house is loud when they arrive. Music thumps through the walls. People crowd the living room, drinks in hand, laughing and shouting over each other.
Ellie slides into the chaos easily, greeting friends and getting pulled into conversations. Sonny lingers near her at first. A few students approach him, curious.
"You’re the ether guy, right" someone asks. "Is it true you beat Bull" another says. Sonny answers with polite silence, which only makes them more interested and they continue to question him.
As the night goes on, drinks flow, and Ellie starts feeling light and warm. Jess finds her with a grin. "Reya is talking to him," Jess says, nodding toward Sonny.
Ellie looks over and sees Reya standing close, smiling shyly at Sonny. Ellie’s stomach twists. She marches over, grabs Sonny’s sleeve, and pulls him away.
Reya blinks, confused. "Oh. Sorry."
Ellie drags Sonny into a quieter hallway. "What are you doing?" she demands.
Sonny looks at her calmly. "Talking to Reya."
"You are my familiar," Ellie says, the words slurring slightly. "You should not be over there chatting her up."
Sonny studies Ellie’s body language like this is a test. "She had a lot of questions. She asked about the fight with Bull. She asked about ether. She asked why I miss class. The same questions everyone else has asked me."
Ellie opens her mouth to argue and berate him. At the same time, a tingle crawls up Sonny’s spine.
His eyes sharpen, the first real alertness Ellie has seen from him all night. "I have to go," Sonny says.
"What do you mean? You cannot leave," Ellie protests.
"They are about to bring out the cake." Sonny’s voice turns firm. "I have to." He steps away.
Ellie yells after him, but he is already gone. Jess finds Ellie again near the kitchen. Ellie is fuming. "What the hell was that? He ditched me," Ellie says.
Jess smirks. "Do you have a crush on him?"
Ellie scoffs, loudly and drunkenly. "No. He just owes me for bringing him to this party. That’s all."
The cake comes out. Everyone sings including Ellie, but her eyes keep drifting toward the door.
Later, Ellie stumbles home alone, intoxicated and annoyed. She mutters to herself as she walks and stumbles, half complaining, half worried.
In the distance, she hears metal clashing. It is faint at first, then sharp and unmistakable. Ellie veers toward the sound in the forest, drawn in like she is sleepwalking.
Ellie pushes through the trees, still unsteady from alcohol, still muttering under her breath. Then she sees it. Two men move in the clearing, faces covered, bodies wrapped in dark cloth.
They fight so fast Ellie’s eyes can barely keep up. It doesn’t look like a duel. It looks like a collision.
Metal flashes in the moonlight. Kunai whistle past each other in tight, angry arcs. Shuriken spin like silver insects, thrown in bursts, deflected in midair, then thrown back as if the weapons never stop belonging to someone.
Then Ellie sees something she can’t explain. Thin, shimmering strands trail from each fighter’s fingers, almost invisible in the dark. The strands latch onto a spinning shuriken midflight, and with a subtle tug, he yanks it off course and snaps it back like a yo-yo, guiding it through the air towards its target as if the weapon is on a leash.
One fighter darts sideways, low to the ground. The other answers instantly, snapping his arm out. Three shuriken fan toward his opponent’s throat.
The first man twists, and the blades skim past his hood by a breath. He throws two kunai without even setting his feet. The knives hit the second man’s forearm guards and ricochet off with a sharp ring. Ellie stands there, frozen, awestruck.
Then she is struck by something familiar. The bandages. The posture. The way one of them moves like the world is already mapped in his head. It’s the same man she gave money to earlier. The same man who saved her from the bandits. The same presence.
Before Ellie can process it, one fighter closes the distance with a sudden rush. He lands a heavy strike and drives the other backward like a battering ram. The bandaged fighter stumbles toward Ellie’s position, boots skidding through leaves and dirt. He snaps his head toward her.
“Get out of here,” he says, voice sharp and urgent. Then he’s gone again, lunging back into the fight as if Ellie never exists. Ellie sways, caught between fear and drunken stubbornness.
“I’m not leaving,” she mutters to herself. “I’m watching.”
And then she notices something that makes her blood go cold. She can’t sense any magic. None. No elemental signature. No energy flare. No familiar pressure the way magic fills a space. Yet every strike feels powerful enough to split stone.
The two fighters clash again, and the bandaged one takes a hit. A shuriken punches into his abdomen. Another bites into his left arm.
Ellie flinches, waiting for him to slow down, to cry out, to stumble. He doesn’t. His body keeps moving like the blades aren’t even there.
Bandages snap tighter around the wounds on their own, compressing, sealing, controlling the bleeding in seconds. The other fighter sees the opening and presses harder, throwing a storm of steel meant to finish it. The bandaged fighter’s hands blur.
He deflects a kunai, catches another by the handle, and twists, throwing it back without looking. The blade slices past the enemy’s cheek, and the enemy recoils. For the first time, Ellie sees something else.
A faint glow gathers in the bandaged man’s palm. It’s not a spell circle. It’s not a chant.
It’s ether, visible and dense, like light being crushed into a sphere. The orb forms in a heartbeat. The bandaged fighter steps in and launches it forward.
The enemy tries to evade, but the orb clips him, tearing through his defense like it’s paper. The impact knocks him off balance, just enough. The bandaged fighter doesn’t hesitate.
He follows immediately, closing the gap and burying a blade into the enemy’s chest. Straight into the heart. The enemy’s body jerks. His knees buckle.
Ellie’s breath catches in her throat. The bandaged fighter pulls back, and ether gathers again, larger this time. The second orb forms with more weight, more pressure, like the air is screaming around it. He drives it to the enemy’s face. The orb detonates. Light blooms. Sound vanishes. The blast tears through the enemy’s head like it isn’t even there. When the flash fades, the body collapses to the ground in a limp heap.
Ellie stands in the trees, horror crawling up her spine. She just watches someone get murdered. And worse, she watches it happen so cleanly, so efficiently, that it feels practiced. Her hands tremble. Her heart hammers. She isn’t sure if she’s more terrified of the death, or of the fact that the bandaged man barely seems affected by it at all.
The bandaged fighter kneels beside the corpse and presses his hands to the ground. The earth shifts and swallows the body, burying it deep as if it never existed.
He turns his head toward Ellie. Ellie runs. Something strikes the back of her head, and the world goes black.
Morning arrives like punishment. Ellie wakes with a pounding headache and a mouth that tastes like regret. She blinks and realizes she is back in her apartment.
Sonny sits on the floor, meditating, like he typically does. Ellie pushes herself upright. "Water," she groans.
Sonny opens one eye. "Do you want breakfast?"
"No," Ellie says quickly.
"Just water." He brings her a cup. Ellie drinks, then stares at him.
"Did you notice that unbelievable fight last night?" she asks.
Sonny’s expression does not change. "What fight?"
Ellie’s heart beats faster. "In the woods. Two men. Weapons. One of them…" She swallows. "I saw someone die." Sonny listens, calm and unreadable.
When she finishes, he says, "It sounds like a dream."
Ellie squints her eyes. "How did I get home?"
"You were passed out on a bench," Sonny says. "I carried you back."
Ellie touches the back of her head, expecting pain. There is nothing. No bruise. No tenderness.
She looks at Sonny again. Even though it felt so real, maybe it was a dream…
