Ami sat stiffly in the chair across from her mother’s desk, her robes still faintly speckled with glitter from the earlier incident. She was perched on the edge, her hands resting tensely on her knees as if ready to bolt at any moment. Amariel hadn’t spoken yet, which was somehow worse than the shouting Ami had been bracing for. Instead, her mother was meticulously organizing a stack of documents, each movement precise and deliberate. The silence in the room was oppressive, the hum of the ever-present glyphs on the walls growing louder with each passing second.

  she’s doing it on purpose, darling, Anna drawled from the back of Ami’s mind, her voice low and teasing. trying to make you sweat. classic power move. want me to suggest something suitably chaotic? maybe knock over that perfectly aligned stack of papers?

  “Not now,” Ami muttered under her breath, though she had to admit the idea was tempting.

  Amariel’s golden eyes flicked up at her daughter, sharp and calculating. “Did you say something?”

  “No,” Ami replied quickly, her cheeks flushing.

  Her mother’s gaze lingered for a moment before she set the papers aside with an audible click and leaned forward. Her hands, perfectly manicured and free of even the faintest tremor, folded neatly on the surface of the desk.

  “Amarantha,” Amariel began, her voice as cold and precise as the room around them. Ami flinched at the sound of her full name, the weight of it pressing down on her chest. “Do you have any idea how close your... recklessness came to undermining the very foundation of Dominion today?”

  “I—” Ami started, but her mother raised a hand, cutting her off.

  “Let me be perfectly clear,” Amariel continued, her tone unwavering. “Magic, here in Dominion, thrives on structure. Harmony. Perfection. Anything less than absolute discipline is a liability—not only to yourself but to everyone around you. You saw the results of your failure today. Do you think this is a game, Amarantha?”

  oh, wonderful, Anna sighed, her voice curling through Ami’s thoughts like smoke. here comes the ‘why can’t you be perfect’ lecture. a timeless classic.

  “I’m trying,” Ami said quietly, though the words burned on the way out. She hated how small her voice sounded, how defensive.

  “Trying is not enough,” Amariel snapped, the sharpness of her tone cutting through the air like a blade. “Dominion is built on precision, Amarantha. It is what protects us, what allows us to thrive in a world teetering on the edge of chaos. Without that precision, there is nothing. Do you understand?”

  Ami swallowed hard. She wanted to argue, to say that it wasn’t her fault the threads didn’t behave, that the entire system felt more like chains than a foundation. But she knew better than to speak now.

  “You want to know why I push you so hard?” Amariel asked, leaning closer. Her voice dropped, becoming something almost like a whisper, but there was no warmth in it. Only steel. “Because your magic is fragile. Unstable. If you cannot control it, it will destroy you—and everyone around you.”

  For a moment, Ami thought the conversation might end there. But her mother’s expression darkened, and she sat back in her chair, her hands still clasped tightly together.

  “There is more,” Amariel said quietly.

  The words sent a chill through Ami’s chest, and she felt her pulse quicken. “More?”

  Amariel nodded slowly, her gaze unyielding. “You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The instability in the air. The glyphs flickering. The threads resisting where they once flowed freely.”

  Ami’s brow furrowed. She had noticed those things, but she’d assumed they were just a result of her own struggles—not something larger.

  “The containment field that stabilizes Dominion’s magic is weakening,” Amariel continued, her voice now tinged with something that might have been concern—or fear. It was hard to tell. “If it collapses, the balance that protects this world will unravel. Chaos will seep into every corner of Dominion, tearing apart everything we’ve built.”

  “You think... I’m causing it?” Ami asked, her voice trembling slightly.

  Amariel’s eyes narrowed. “I think your... connection to Eidolon magic has made you a danger to Dominion’s stability. Whether you intend to or not, your lack of discipline may be contributing to the field’s decline.”

  Ami’s stomach dropped. Here it was, laid bare before her: the perfect excuse for her mother to push her out of Dominion entirely.

  oh, don’t look so surprised, darling, Anna murmured, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. she was always going to blame you. it’s what she does best.

  But Amariel wasn’t finished.

  “This isn’t just about you, Amarantha,” Amariel said, her voice sharpening again. “It’s about Dominion. Without the containment field, our entire society would collapse. The magic that powers our homes, our defenses—everything—would become wild, dangerous. Do you understand what that means?”

  Ami nodded mutely, though she wasn’t sure she truly did. The idea of Dominion’s perfect, unyielding structures falling apart was too abstract, too far removed from the cold, symmetrical reality she lived in.

  Amariel sighed—a rare show of emotion that made Ami’s chest tighten. “I don’t want to send you away,” she said, her voice quieter now. “But if you cannot prove that you are capable of control, I will have no choice. There are missions that require... more freedom than Dominion allows. Perhaps, in Eidolon, you will learn to master what I cannot teach you here.”

  Her mother’s words hung in the air like a noose. Ami felt her throat tighten, and for a moment, she couldn’t bring herself to speak.

  “This is your last chance, Amarantha,” Amariel said firmly. “I’ve arranged for you to join a mission. You’ll be tasked with tracking down a rogue magical girl associated with Eidolon. Consider it an opportunity to prove yourself—to Dominion, and to me.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Ami’s hands clenched into fists. She hated how calm her mother sounded, how effortlessly she delivered what was essentially an ultimatum. She hated that Amariel always seemed to be in control, even when everything else was unraveling.

  say no, anna whispered, her voice low and insistent. tell her you’re done playing by her rules. let’s go somewhere fun. somewhere free.

  But Ami couldn’t say no. She didn’t know if it was fear, or guilt, or some small, flickering hope that she could still prove herself.

  “I’ll do it,” she said quietly.

  Amariel nodded, though her expression betrayed no relief. “Good,” she said simply. “You leave tomorrow. Fayra and Velene will accompany you.”

  Of course they would. Fayra, the mischievous troublemaker, and Velene, the cold enforcer. Her mother’s way of reminding her that she was still being watched, even outside Dominion’s walls.

  As Ami stood to leave, Amariel’s voice stopped her at the door.

  “And Amarantha,” she said, her tone gentler now. “Chaos tempers you. Or it kills you. There is no middle ground.”

  Ami turned slightly, just enough to meet her mother’s gaze. “I won’t fail,” she said, her voice stronger than she felt.

  And with that, she stepped out into the corridor, anna’s whispers trailing behind her like a shadow.

  oh, darling, anna purred, her voice laced with dark amusement. this is going to be fun.

  Ami walked out of Amariel’s office, her boots clicking softly against the marble floor of the corridor. The golden glyphs lining the walls pulsed faintly, their rhythm steady and unyielding, as if the entire Academy itself were alive—watching, judging, waiting. She hated that feeling. The rhythmic pulse always felt like it was counting down to something—probably her next mistake.

  She tried to breathe, but her chest felt tight. Amariel’s words still echoed in her mind.

  "This is your duty, Amarantha."

  Her fingers twitched at the sound of her full name replaying in her head. She hated it. She hated the weight of it, the sharp edges of the syllables. Amarantha. It wasn’t just a name; it was a reminder—one she didn’t need.

  well, darling, came anna’s voice, soft and teasing in the back of her mind, that was as cheerful as a funeral. she really outdid herself this time.

  “Not now,” Ami muttered through clenched teeth, though the empty corridor swallowed her words.

  oh, come now, anna purred, her voice curling like smoke through Ami’s thoughts. you can’t blame me for commenting. she practically gift-wrapped that little monologue of hers. ‘chaos will kill us both,’ ‘you’re a danger to everything.’ very dramatic. someone should really get her a hobby.

  Ami slumped against a nearby wall, her eyes turned up to the vaulted ceiling. The golden glyphs seemed to stretch endlessly above her, their light casting sharp, symmetrical shadows on the marble floor. Everything in Dominion was symmetrical, orderly, perfect. It made her feel... wrong. Out of place.

  “I can’t do this,” she whispered.

  of course you can’t, anna said brightly. not her way, anyway. she wants to mold you like one of those silly little statues everyone keeps staring at. has it ever occurred to her that you’re not made of marble?

  “She’s right about one thing,” Ami muttered. “Dominion needs the containment field to survive. If it collapses, everything we’ve ever known will fall apart. Chaos will take over.”

  chaos isn’t the problem, anna countered, her tone softening, almost thoughtful. it’s the cage that’s killing you, darling. a gilded cage is still a cage.

  Ami frowned, her fingers tightening into fists at her sides. “It doesn’t matter what I feel. I have a job to do. If I don’t stop this Kalyn girl, Mother will...” She trailed off, swallowing hard. She didn’t want to say it out loud.

  she’ll send you away, anna finished for her, her voice quieter now. exile to Eidolon. chaos incarnate. no golden threads to hold you together. terrifying, isn’t it?

  “Yes,” Ami admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

  There was a pause, long enough that Ami almost thought anna had gone quiet. Then, softly: terrifying... or maybe exactly what you need.

  “Stop,” Ami said sharply, pushing off the wall. She didn’t want this conversation. Not now. Not ever. She started walking again, her boots striking the marble floor with deliberate force.

  The corridor opened into a narrow courtyard, its symmetry as precise as everything else in Dominion. Perfectly trimmed hedges lined the edges, their shapes so exact that Ami could almost hear the whispers of countless gardeners who had spent hours maintaining them. A single fountain stood at the center, its water flowing upward in a graceful loop before cascading back down. The air smelled faintly of lavender and cold stone.

  Ami paused at the edge of the courtyard, staring at the fountain. She closed her eyes, letting the sound of the water drown out the noise in her head for a moment.

  you’re afraid, anna whispered, her voice almost gentle now. and that’s okay. but you’re not afraid of failing her, darling. you’re afraid of finding out who you are without her rules.

  Ami’s hands tightened into fists again. “I’m not afraid,” she said aloud.

  “Talking to yourself again?”

  The voice startled her, sharp and familiar. Ami turned quickly to see Eria standing at the far end of the courtyard, her golden hair catching the light from the fountain. She looked, as always, infuriatingly composed.

  Ami’s stomach sank. She didn’t want to deal with Eria right now. Not after everything.

  “Shouldn’t you be preparing for your mission?” Eria asked, her tone polished but with a faint edge of something Ami couldn’t quite place.

  “I was,” Ami replied stiffly, folding her arms across her chest. “What do you want, Eria?”

  Eria tilted her head slightly, her blue eyes narrowing. “You weren’t exactly subtle back there in the Hall of Weaving, you know. The entire Academy is whispering about your little... display.”

  Ami flinched. “I don’t need your commentary.”

  Eria stepped closer, her movements elegant and deliberate, like a dancer performing a slow routine. “You’re reckless, Amarantha,” she said softly, but there was no malice in her tone. Instead, it sounded almost... curious. “You fight the threads as if you’re trying to break them. That’s not how Dominion magic works.”

  “I know how Dominion magic works,” Ami snapped, her anger flaring. “But maybe the threads aren’t so perfect after all.”

  Eria’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something—interest, maybe—crossing her face. “The threads aren’t the problem,” she said. “You are.”

  Ami froze.

  “And yet,” Eria continued, her voice softening, “there’s something about the way they respond to you. It’s... different. Chaotic, sure. But not wrong. Not entirely.”

  Ami blinked, caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”

  Eria shrugged, turning away. “Just an observation.” She paused at the edge of the fountain, her fingers brushing the surface of the water. “Good luck on your mission, Amarantha. You’ll need it.”

  And with that, she was gone, leaving Ami standing alone in the courtyard, her thoughts even more tangled than before.

  well, anna murmured, her tone thoughtful. that was... unexpected. maybe she’s not as perfect as she pretends to be.

  “Shut up,” Ami muttered, turning away from the fountain. She didn’t want to think about Eria or her cryptic comments. She had a mission to focus on.

  As she stepped out of the courtyard, the golden glyphs on the walls flickered faintly, and for the first time, Ami noticed the faintest crack in one of them—a jagged line running through the center of the pattern.

  She stared at it for a long moment, unease coiling in her chest.

  everything cracks eventually, anna whispered. you just have to decide what’s worth saving.

  Ami didn’t respond. She kept walking.