The food tasted like nothing.
Bread. Something wrapped in roasted root. A sliver of dried fruit tucked near the corner of the cloth. It was warm, but Merlin barely registered the heat.
He chewed in silence.
Elara sat beside him, legs crossed, gaze turned toward the far end of the courtyard. She didn't press. Didn't comment. Just sat there with the quiet, patient stillness of someone who understood what it meant to wait.
Halfway through the meal, he paused, fingers tightening slightly on the cloth.
The food went down. Slowly. Mechanically.
He hated how his body still accepted it. How the world hadn't collapsed around him the moment his mana vanished.
It felt like it should've. Like something as important as that should've triggered a ripple. A crack. A fracture in the sky.
But no. Just birdsong and half-warm rations.
Merlin rubbed his temple once. The headache hadn't faded since morning. It just pulsed behind his left eye like a stubborn drumbeat.
"Are you going to tell them?" Elara asked quietly.
'She knows too much..'
"You know they'll figure it out eventually."
She looked at him sideways. "Nathan already suspects. You know that too."
"…You're not going to lie, are you?"
Elara let out a soft sigh, barely audible.
"I'll cover for you."
He looked at her then. Fully.
She didn't flinch. "Because you'd do the same for us. Even if you wouldn't admit it."
Merlin turned back to the empty courtyard.
But she didn't expect him to.
A shadow passed overhead. A bird, maybe. Maybe not.
He leaned back against the bench, head tilted toward the sky. The ache in his bones hadn't eased. But it was duller now. Muted.
Something in the quiet started to resemble peace.
Sharp. Firm. Familiar.
Merlin opened his eyes.
Vivienne Dorne stood just past the archway, hands on her hips. Her hair was golden, braided back.
But not at him. Not fully.
"Should've known you'd be out here brooding instead of resting," she muttered as she approached.
"You know, normal people stay in bed after dying."
He didn't sit up. Just looked at her.
Vivienne raised a brow. "And decided a walk with your emotional support elf was a better alternative?"
"I'm not an emotional support anything," Elara said flatly.
"I'm not dead," Merlin added.
"Barely," Vivienne shot back. "You're lucky Morgana didn't turn you into a cautionary tale."
Merlin's gaze narrowed slightly. "What does she know?"
Vivienne folded her arms. Her tone shifted, serious now. "Enough to be watching."
She looked between the two of them. "Headmistress wants to speak with you. Officially."
Merlin blinked once. "Now?"
"Now." Her expression softened, just barely. "You can lean on me. Just this once."
Elara stood without a word, stepping aside.
Then slowly pushed himself up.
Vivienne was beside him before he could fully straighten. Her arm braced under his, careful, steady.
Together, they moved toward the north wing, footsteps slow against the stone.
Elara watched them go.
But she didn't follow.
Vivienne didn't fill the silence with words. Just kept her pace slow, steady, calibrated to match his uneven steps. The northern wing was empty this time of morning. Most of the students were in class. Merlin was glad for that.
He didn't want to be looked at.
They turned a corner. The sun shifted through the high arches, casting slats of pale gold across the floor. Vivienne didn't glance at him. But she didn't let go either.
By the time they reached Morgana's office, he was already tired.
The door opened without a knock.
Morgana sat at her desk.
Today, she looked less like a myth and more like a verdict. Her long blue hair was braided and pinned high, and her eyes were clear, colorless, cut from ice, they tracked Merlin the second he stepped inside.
"Vivienne," Morgana said, voice smooth. "Wait outside."
Vivienne didn't argue. She gave Merlin one last glance, then turned and shut the door behind her.
Morgana gestured to the seat across from her desk.
She didn't speak right away.
She slid a stack of parchment toward him instead.
"Standard recovery discharge forms," she said. "Authorization of restricted leave, temporary academic suspension, waiver of attendance policy."
He raised a brow. "You're letting me take time off?"
"You're lucky I'm not chaining you to a warded bed."
Her gaze sharpened. "You're not here because I need answers. We've already had that conversation. You're here because I need you to understand this—"
She tapped the papers.
"This? This is the last favor I give you for free."
His fingers curled around the edge of the parchment.
"You stepped off the edge of a very specific line," Morgana said. "And survived."
"We don't have the luxury of pretending anymore," she continued. "You've been noticed."
Merlin's jaw tightened. "By who."
She smiled. Not kindly.
"The kind of people who only look down when something moves too fast for them to ignore."
He signed the first page. "I don't have anything left."
"You're wrong," she said, too quickly.
"You're not a sword anymore," she said quietly. "But that doesn't mean you aren't dangerous."
Merlin didn't answer.
He signed the second form. Then the third.
When it was done, he looked up.
"I'm going back to class tomorrow."
Morgana's brow arched. "You can't channel."
"That's not the same."
Her fingers steepled under her chin. For a moment, the office was still.
Then without breaking eye contact, she nodded.
"Then walk carefully," she said. "Because you're not invisible anymore kid."
Merlin stood. The pain flared in his ribs, but he ignored it.
He turned for the door.
"If you break something again," she said smoothly, "try not to bleed on my marble."
The door closed behind him just a little softer than before.
Vivienne was already waiting in the hall.
She straightened as Merlin stepped out of Morgana's office, scanning his face in a quick, habitual sweep. Noticing the stiffness in his shoulders. The drag in his gait.
She didn't ask what was said.
Instead, she fell into step beside him, hands tucked behind her back like a soldier guiding a prisoner who refused to act like one.
"Come on," she said quietly.
The northern wing was quieter than the others. Less traffic. Fewer students. The air here always felt a little more still. Like the walls were listening.
Vivienne didn't speak until they passed the last lecture hall.
"Your old place is too far from the academy," she said. "And I'm not carrying you every time you decide to collapse."
"I never collapsed.." Merlin muttered.
"You vanished into a hell dimension, came back without your magic, and walked halfway across campus like a haunted broomstick," she shot back. "I'm not arguing semantics."
He didn't have the energy to argue. Not really.
They turned another corner, descending a narrow stairwell tucked behind one of the older lecture halls.
The stone here was older. Uneven. More runework etched into the corners—wards for sound, for privacy. The kind the staff used.
It wasn't a student dormitory.
Vivienne stopped in front of a reinforced wooden door. Brass handle. Polished plate with no name.
"This used to be a faculty room," she said. "It's unused. Close to everything. Quiet."
Merlin raised a brow. "You bribed the quartermaster?"
"I threatened to burn his shoes down."
The room wasn't large. Just enough space for a single bed, a desk, and a narrow armoire. But the walls were clean.
The window overlooked the eastern garden. A small rune-etched lantern hung from the ceiling, humming faintly with contained firelight.
Merlin stepped inside.
He ran a hand over the desk surface. Smooth. Untouched.
"You're not staying here forever," Vivienne said from the doorway. "Just until you can walk more than ten meters without looking like someone stabbed you in the liver."
"Feels more like the spine," Merlin murmured.
"Then we'll compromise and say both."
She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed again. Watching him without pressing.
She didn't leave yet.
Her voice softened. Just slightly. "You don't have to prove anything, you know."
Merlin sat down on the edge of the bed, legs stiff. His fingers curled against his knee.
Vivienne didn't argue.
Didn't try to change his mind.
"Rest, Everhart," she said, straightening. "Classes start again tomorrow."
He didn't ask how she managed to get him excused from today.
He just listened as her footsteps faded down the corridor.
And for a while, he sat in silence.
And the wind brushing through the garden outside.