The day felt different.
No alarms. No training bells. No echoes of people running drills in the halls. Just quiet… and sunlight. The kind of light that poured in slowly, warming the room like it had time to spare.
Fin blinked up at the ceiling. For once, he hadn't woken up to nightmares. Or maybe he had, but if so, they'd slipped away before he opened his eyes. That was already a win.
He stretched, sat up, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
Across the room, Ephy was still asleep—half-hanging off the bed, blanket tangled around one leg, mouth slightly open. Peaceful. Ridiculous.
Fin got up without making too much noise and wandered over to the window. Outside, he could already hear the sound of laughter, clinking glass, and distant music—soft and curious, like the Academy itself was waking up with a smile.
Today was the festival.
He'd nearly forgotten, with everything that had happened lately. But Deryn hadn't. Of course she hadn't.
The whole thing had been her idea—a "last taste of normal" before things got messy again. She said it like it was a joke, but Fin knew she meant it. They all did.
And honestly? He was grateful. A day of music, good food, and pretending things were fine? He'd take it.
He turned away from the window and shook Ephy gently. "Get up."
"Five more minutes," Ephy mumbled.
"There's food. And Deryn's expecting us."
Ephy groaned into his pillow. "Tell her I died. Peacefully. In my sleep."
"She said if we're not dressed and at the fountain in an hour, she's bringing the clothes to us. And magically forcing them on."
Ephy sat up immediately. "Right. Okay. I'm up."
By the time they got ready and stepped into the courtyard, the entire place had transformed.
Lanterns floated lazily above the paths. Streamers moved like living things, twisting gently in the air. The smell of roasted meat, spiced breads, and syrup-glazed fruit wafted through the breeze, making Fin's stomach growl loud enough for Ephy to laugh.
Then, through the crowd, they spotted her.
Deryn.
She stood by the fountain, arms crossed, waiting. Her dress shimmered between deep blue and silver, like it couldn't pick a color. Her hair was braided back with streaks of soft light woven into it—an enchantment, probably. She looked strong. Beautiful. Dangerous.
And smug.
"Took you long enough," she said as they approached.
"We were getting dressed," Fin said.
"Correction: you were stalling," she replied. "Now come on. We've got dancing to ignore and food to inhale."
Fin smiled despite himself.
For now, just for today, the war could wait.
They let Deryn lead the way—through colorful tents strung between stone pillars, under arches draped in flowers, past tables piled high with food no one could pronounce but everyone devoured anyway.
It was like the Academy had been holding its breath for months and finally exhaled.
Students who'd looked half-dead after their trials were smiling now. A group near the courtyard had gathered around a floating stage where two musicians—one with a harp made of glass, the other with a flute that whistled fire—played a tune so light it felt like it might float away.
Fin paused to watch. The music didn't just sound good—it made his bones feel lighter. Like he could jump and never come down.
They passed by a booth where a girl was enchanting rings to glow with the wearer's mood. Deryn dared Ephy to try it.
"No thanks," Ephy said, deadpan. "I'd rather not walk around broadcasting my emotional instability."
"Coward," Deryn teased, slipping on a ring herself. It flickered briefly, then settled into a warm amber glow. She smiled at that, though she didn't explain what it meant.
Fin just laughed and grabbed a piece of fried dough from a passing tray.
The three of them wandered from tent to tent, each corner of the festival filled with something new—illusion contests, fire jugglers, enchanted storytelling scrolls that acted out their tales mid-air.
At one point, Fin caught sight of a sparring circle where awakened students were testing their powers in good fun. Deryn tugged his sleeve like she was going to challenge him again, but then stopped herself.
"Not today," she said, her voice soft.
They found a quiet spot beneath a tree where strips of enchanted fabric hung like streamers, shimmering softly in the breeze. Fin flopped down in the grass, Ephy sat cross-legged beside him, and Deryn leaned back against the trunk.
No one spoke for a while.
Then Fin said, "This doesn't feel like the end."
Deryn looked over. "What do you mean?"
"It feels like the middle of something. Like the world hasn't ended yet. Like we still have time."
Ephy nodded slowly. "Maybe we do."
And for a few more minutes, they just existed. No war. No powers. No riddles or nightmares. Just three friends under a tree at a festival, pretending—maybe even believing—that peace was still an option.