14.

The sharp pain in Viole's hand brought him to his knees, the mark on his palm burning as if it had come alive. His heart raced, his chest tightening with every breath. He could feel it—the presence—pushing against the edges of his mind, trying to force its way in, trying to take control. The world around him blurred, the edges of his vision darkening as the voice of the shadowy figure echoed in his thoughts.

"You cannot escape what you are."

Rethis's sharp voice cut through the haze. "What's happening to him?" His tone was cold and commanding, but there was an edge of unease that hadn't been there before.

Toren growled, his eyes darting between Viole and Rethis. "Something's wrong with that mark on his hand. It started after the trial."

Seris knelt beside Viole, her hand resting on his shoulder, but even her touch felt distant. "Viole, can you hear me?"

Viole tried to respond, tried to push the darkness away, but the presence—the one that had haunted him in the cavern—was stronger now, more insistent. His vision swirled as the ground seemed to tilt beneath him. He caught glimpses of the shadowy figure's red eyes, burning into his mind like fire.

The mark on his hand flared brighter, pulsing with energy that surged through his veins, rattling his entire body. The personalities inside him stirred, their voices rising in a chorus of chaos.

Aamon was first, his voice smooth and regal, but there was a note of urgency in his tone. "This is your only chance, Viole. Let me take control. You won't survive this alone."

Desmond, ever the playful mimic, giggled in the background. "Look at all the power you've got! It's just waiting for you to grab it, Viole. Let's play with it!"

And then came Clark, cold and sadistic, his voice dripping with malice. "You're losing. You can't keep running from what you are. Let us in, Viole. We'll tear them apart."

Viole clenched his jaw, forcing the voices down, refusing to give in. He couldn't lose himself to them—not here, not now. The mark was pulling at the very core of his being, drawing on the power of the personalities and the shard, but he had to stay in control.

"I won't let you take over," he thought, his mind battling against the surge of power. "I'm stronger than this."

The pain in his hand intensified, and Viole let out a low growl as the energy flared brighter, almost blinding. His body trembled with the effort to hold it back, but he could feel the personalities pushing harder, their strength overwhelming.

Seris's voice broke through the storm of chaos in his mind. "Viole, focus. Whatever it is, fight it."

He focused on her voice, using it as an anchor to pull himself back from the edge. The mark on his palm burned hot, but the energy pulsing through him began to slow, the darkness that had clouded his mind lifting slightly. His vision cleared just enough for him to see Rethis standing over him, his eyes narrowing as he studied the mark on Viole's hand.

Rethis's lips tightened into a thin line. "That mark is tied to the shard, isn't it?" His voice was sharp, accusatory.

Viole nodded, though it took everything in him to hold back the personalities that still clawed at the edges of his consciousness. "It's… connected," he muttered, his voice strained. "I broke the shard in the trial. The mark appeared after."

Rethis's eyes darkened, his expression unreadable. He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on Viole's hand. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Viole met his gaze, the weight of Rethis's words pressing down on him. He didn't know. He had no idea what the mark meant, or what kind of power it had unlocked. But he could feel it now, deep inside him—a well of energy tied to something ancient, something far beyond the academy's trials.

"I didn't have a choice," Viole said, his voice firmer now. "The creature… I had to break the shard to stop it."

Rethis's eyes flicked toward Seris and Toren, who stood behind Viole, their expressions tense. "This goes beyond the trial. What happened in that cavern was no accident."

Toren growled under his breath, flexing his injured arm. "No kidding. That thing wasn't part of the test. It was after Viole. It wanted that power."

Rethis's gaze snapped back to Viole, and his tone turned ice cold. "You've been marked by something far more dangerous than you can understand. That shard was a seal—a lock on a power that should never have been touched."

Viole's blood ran cold. He had felt the intensity of the shard's power when it shattered, but hearing Rethis's words made it real. The mark on his palm wasn't just a random side effect—it was a sign that he had disturbed something ancient, something that was never meant to be unleashed.

"What do we do now?" Seris asked, her voice quiet but steady. "If the trial wasn't what we thought, and Viole's connected to whatever that was, then what's next?"

Rethis didn't answer immediately. His gaze lingered on the mark, as though weighing the options in his mind. Finally, he stepped back, his expression hardening. "You need to be contained."

Viole's heart skipped a beat, his eyes widening. "What?"

Rethis's voice was calm, but there was no room for negotiation in his tone. "The power you've tapped into is dangerous—far too dangerous for someone like you to control. Until we understand what's happened, you can't be trusted. You're a threat, not just to the academy, but to everyone around you."

The words hit Viole like a blow, but before he could react, Toren stepped forward, his voice filled with anger. "You can't just lock him away! He didn't ask for this."

Seris nodded in agreement, her expression dark. "There has to be another way."

Rethis's cold eyes flicked toward them. "This is not a matter of choice. The mark is tied to forces you can't comprehend, and until we can sever its connection, Viole is a danger."

The silence that followed was suffocating. Viole stood frozen, his mind racing as the implications of Rethis's words sank in. Contained? Locked away because of a power he didn't ask for? The personalities stirred again, their voices rising in protest.

Aamon growled, his regal tone laced with fury. "This fool thinks he can imprison us? I won't allow it."

Clark, dark and vicious, hissed with amusement. "Let them try. They won't contain me."

Viole's pulse quickened, the panic rising in his chest. The personalities were right—he couldn't let them lock him away. He had to stay free, had to figure out what the mark meant and how to control it. But the power inside him was volatile, unstable, and if he let it get out of control, there was no telling what might happen.

Rethis stepped closer, his voice low and cold. "You're coming with me, Viole. Now."

Viole's heart pounded in his chest, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He could feel the power of the mark burning against his skin, the personalities pushing at the edges of his mind. He couldn't be contained. He wouldn't survive it.

Without thinking, he took a step back, his eyes locked on Rethis. "I'm not going anywhere."

Seris tensed beside him, her hand inching toward her dagger. Toren growled low, his claws flexing as he prepared for a fight.

Rethis's eyes narrowed, his hand moving toward the hilt of the sword at his side. "Don't make this harder than it has to be, Viole."

The room was thick with tension, the air crackling with the threat of violence. Viole's mind raced, torn between the power surging through him and the fear of what would happen if he let it loose.

He couldn't go with Rethis. He couldn't be locked away.

In a flash, Viole made his decision.