Chapter 28 – Cracks
For a week, the Academy hadn't truly breathed.
The seals on the towers still burned faintly, and armor clanked through the courtyards.
Temple officials counted every step; even the guards whispered prayers between shifts.
Seryn had grown used to the silence.
Every whisper in the corridors had become background noise.
He no longer felt like part of the Academy — more like its shadow.
Today was Kaelor's class.
The instructor was known for his discipline — few words, no mercy, but fair.
The training field was damp, the stone still slick from the rain.
Around twenty students stood in formation, blades in hand.
"Today," said Kaelor,
"your sword isn't just to cut. It's to direct.
If you can't hear your opponent breathe, your blade is already dull."
Seryn nodded silently.
His hands still bore faint ritual scars,
but the tremor was gone.
Lucien stood several paces away.
His eyes flicked toward Seryn, then away again.
He still carried the weight of that night — the battle, the doubt.
He was a noble of the Empire, raised to lead.
Seryn was a student the Temple labeled as "unstable."
But they had fought side by side once.
And Lucien hadn't forgotten.
"Begin!"
Kaelor's voice cracked through the air.
Lucien moved first — fast, sharp, precise.
Seryn stayed back, studying rhythm and breath.
When he saw the opening, he stepped forward — just one step —
and disarmed his opponent with a single strike.
Kaelor approached. His face was unreadable, but his tone softened.
"You listened before you acted," he said.
"That's not a fighter's instinct — it's a thinker's.
If your mind carries your sword, you can survive even without strength."
Seryn bowed slightly.
It was the closest Kaelor ever came to a compliment.
Lucien watched from afar.
That single comment stirred something in him —
a mix of pride and unease.
The Temple is watching, he thought.
Standing beside Seryn might be dangerous.
But he also remembered the night they fought together,
when fear had no place between them.
---
After class, the air was heavier.
Temple guards stood like statues near the gates.
As Seryn passed, a group of students whispered:
"Why is he still here?"
"Maybe the Temple needs him."
"Or he's just their experiment."
He didn't react. He just kept walking.
Lucien heard everything.
He walked toward them and said quietly,
"Don't speak like that again."
His tone wasn't a threat — it was a warning.
"If not for him, you wouldn't be alive."
The whispers died instantly.
Lucien walked away.
---
Later that evening, Seryn met Seraphine in her study.
She sat behind her desk, eyes focused on a ritual log.
"Kaelor sent me his report," she said.
"You're fast, but too cautious."
Seryn replied, "Caution keeps me alive."
Seraphine smiled faintly.
"True. But that's what sets you apart.
That's why the Temple can't read you.
They crave obedience — you seek understanding."
"And that doesn't bother you?"
"On the contrary," she said.
"Maybe this Academy needs someone like that."
She gestured to a crystal.
"Tomorrow, you'll attend the magic division.
Elemental basics.
Magic is as dangerous as ritual — just less bloody."
Seryn nodded.
"Understood."
"Tell me," Seraphine added,
"why do you think Valen supports you?"
Seryn hesitated.
"Maybe he's balancing against the Temple."
"Or maybe," Seraphine said softly,
"he sees something in you — something you haven't noticed yet."
Seryn paused at the door.
"Or maybe he just sees himself."
---
That night, Lucien sat alone in the northern tower.
He closed his notebook, his thoughts loud in the quiet.
Seryn's voice echoed in his mind:
"What makes me dangerous is what you believe in."
Lucien looked at his reflection.
For the first time, he felt distant from the Temple.
He had been raised to be the Empire's pride,
but now he wasn't sure what that meant.
What if I've been on the wrong side?
---
In the courtyard, Kaelor looked up at the sky.
The temple seals shimmered across the towers like a warning.
"We came here to protect them," he murmured.
"But who are we really protecting?"
The Academy's silence tightened —
like a breath before the storm.
---
💬 Author's Note:
Seryn's ritual path begins to merge with the art of magic.
Lucien's doubt grows, and the Temple's shadow thickens over the Academy.
Every quiet day now feels like the calm before war. ⚔️