The Rules Do Not Apply
Chapter 29 — The Rules Do Not Apply
The stars were still clinging to the early morning sky when Aria slipped out of her dorm room.
Not even the academy's enchanted lanterns had stirred yet.
She kept her steps light, silent. The sealed folder remained hidden beneath her robes, its words now etched in her mind. Sealbearers. Reality-benders. Cursed with power that the world feared — and often didn't survive.
She wouldn't end like them.
She wouldn't break.
Not now.
Not ever.
The academy grounds were cold at this hour. The marble paths whispered under her feet, the gardens still sleeping. She made her way to an abandoned spell-dueling arena near the east wing — a place the older students had long forgotten and the instructors never visited anymore.
The perfect place to experiment.
Aria stepped onto the cracked stone floor and closed her eyes. Her heartbeat slowed.
The golden magic stirred beneath her skin.
She remembered everything she'd read — the way Seren had twisted cause and effect, how Vaelith reshaped flesh, how Korven could make luck itself bow to him.
Their madness had been their downfall.
But she had something they didn't — clarity. And a second life's worth of pain to fuel her will.
She raised her hand.
"Rule One," she murmured. "Let fire burn only when I say."
She snapped her fingers.
A burst of flame roared to life — then froze mid-air, hovering like a beast in chains. She waved her fingers again, and it shrunk to a flickering ember. Then to nothing.
No incantations. No circles. Just... intent.
She grinned. "Okay. That's terrifying."
She moved to the next idea.
"Rule Two. Let what is heavy become weightless."
A boulder nearby floated.
She raised her eyebrow, pushing her limits. "Higher."
The boulder obeyed. So did the ground beneath it — cracking, rippling like water.
She gasped and snapped her fingers again, canceling the magic.
The stone dropped with a thud. The earth stilled.
Aria's heart thundered in her chest, but not with fear.
With exhilaration.
The seal — her birthright — wasn't learning spells.
It was rewriting the logic spells were bound by.
She began practicing daily in secret. Every crack of dawn, every lonely stretch of midnight. She weaved silence around her so no sound would escape. Erased her footprints with spells of probability shift. If someone came near, they'd trip and remember they left something burning in their room.
Her magic warped reality itself now — and she was getting faster at it. Sharper.
She didn't just cast spells. She declared truths.
"Let this barrier collapse only when touched by regret."
"Let lightning strike where I glance."
"Let the arrow miss because I do not wish it to hit."
Day by day, she understood more.
Night by night, she mastered them.
No rituals. No reagents. Just her will — shaped by golden light and a second life's fury.
But there were… side effects.
Reality didn't like being tampered with.
One evening, as she adjusted gravity's flow in a small stone to make it hover like a balloon, the air shivered.
A tree beside her withered — and then reversed, blooming in seconds before turning to dust.
She stared, unmoving.
Something… ancient… was watching.
And it knew she wasn't supposed to do this.
Back in the dorm later, Nyra peeked at her from under a blanket, eyes narrowed. "You look like someone who just broke a hundred-year-old law and got away with it."
Aria flopped into bed, breathless. "Define 'got away.'"
"Okay, I am worried," Nyra said, scooting closer. "You've been vanishing a lot. Elric said you ghosted him for lunch three times. And when he notices someone's avoiding him, it's bad."
"I'm fine," Aria replied, trying not to grin. "Just… curious. About myself."
Nyra raised an eyebrow. "Please don't become a villain. Or if you do, at least give me a head start."
"No promises."
They both laughed softly.
But as Nyra drifted off again, Aria stared at the ceiling, her fingers glowing faint gold.
She was rewriting the world, one truth at a time.
And she knew… the moment she chose to stop hiding it — the world would never see her the same again.