Morning spread over the capital like molten gold sliding across marble streets.
The city stirred slowly — bells ringing, hooves clattering, voices drifting through narrow alleys. Every sound felt muted beneath the weight of anticipation, as though the day itself waited for something unseen.
At its heart stood the Grand Arcanum Academy, massive, commanding, steeped in centuries of whispered secrets. The stone walls seemed to hum faintly, pulsing with the memories of power, ambition, and magic that had walked through its halls for generations.
Only those whose blood carried strength could belong here. And Kael's blood carried more than strength.
He moved through the gates with quiet authority. Every step was precise, deliberate. Every motion carried a subtle weight, a silent command. Students turned, whispers following him like trailing shadows.
"Heir of House Valenor… he always seems… different."
Kael ignored them. He never needed acknowledgment. Today wasn't about prestige or recognition. Something older tugged at him, insistent, pulling him forward. Something familiar.
There. Always there.
Elior stepped lightly onto the grounds, shoulders squared, silver hair catching the sunlight, golden eyes blinking against the sudden brightness.
The Academy was vast beyond imagination: endless corridors, towering spires, statues of Archmages long gone. He adjusted his satchel nervously.
New place… new rules. Maybe I can start over here.
A subtle pull brushed against his chest, sharp and elusive. He glanced up—and froze.
Kael saw him. Not the uniform, not the polished shoes, not the shine of hair or the glint of eyes — though he noticed all of that — but the presence. That fragment of eternity that called to him like a bell tolling across forgotten rivers of time.
Mine. Even before you know it.
He slowed, letting the chaos of the crowd blur around him. Black hair glinting in the sun, eyes sharp and black, pink shifting with longing, gold and red sparks flaring whenever he imagined magic coursing through his veins. His gaze locked onto Elior's golden eyes—seen only by him—and the ache in his chest tightened, old and consuming.
Soon. Soon you'll understand.
Elior, unaware, wandered a few steps into the courtyard. His pulse quickened, unaccountably. Every instinct screamed to flee, yet his body betrayed him, drawn by something ancient he could not name.
A shiver ran along his spine. He turned slightly and saw a black-haired boy moving with deliberate, measured steps. Even the crowd seemed to bend around him.
Who is he…?
Kael approached slowly, predatory, each step measured, teasing, as if circling a deer in sunlight. His black eyes never left Elior, absorbing, memorizing.
You'll see. You'll know. And you won't be able to resist.
Kael reached out, fingers brushing against Elior's satchel strap—a touch almost imperceptible, but Elior's chest tightened anyway.
Kael leaned closer, voice low and smooth:"Your name… I know it. And mine… you'll carry it, even if you don't understand why."
Elior swallowed hard, words caught in his throat. "I… I'm—"
"Elior." Kael's voice cut through him, weighty, claiming, undeniable.
A strange warmth spread through Elior's chest. His lips parted, hesitant, fragile. "I—I'm Elior."
Kael's lips curved into a smirk, a dangerous flicker of satisfaction in his black eyes. You don't even know it yet… but from this moment, you belong to me.
The courtyard felt smaller, tighter, charged with a current neither fully understood.
Elior tried to step back but found himself moving closer instead, drawn by the pull of Kael's presence.
Kael shifted his hand slightly, letting theirs rest together longer than necessary, letting the warmth linger. His voice brushed against Elior's ear, low, intimate:"Mark this moment. Remember it. I've been waiting."
Elior's cheeks burned, fingers trembling. Why can't I step away?
Kael's smirk deepened, playful and dangerous. His black eyes flickered pink with longing. "Do not forget me," he murmured, almost to himself. "Not ever."
Kael's other hand lightly brushed the back of Elior's hand, a teasing, feather-light touch. The smallest contact, yet Elior's pulse flared, chaotic, betraying the connection he couldn't explain.
"Do you… feel that?" Kael whispered, leaning just close enough for the warmth of his breath to kiss Elior's ear.
The noise of the courtyard returned slowly—footsteps, laughter, floating spells—but for Elior, nothing had changed. Every nerve seemed tethered to Kael, every instinct screaming: He's here. He's always been here.
Kael stepped back, gaze lingering just enough to burn into memory. The shadow of a predator, the trace of intent, followed him as he moved through the crowd with effortless grace.
Later, Kael leaned against a window, watching Elior from afar, replaying every detail—the tremor of hands, the hesitation of words, the flush of cheeks. Every glance, every movement, every fleeting expression etched into his mind.
Every step I take… every glance, every breath… it's all for him. Always him.
Found you. He whispered it to the empty hall. This time… I won't let you go.
Elior sat alone in his dorm, still trembling from the encounter. He whispered Kael's name, tasting it:"Kael."
Even outside, the wind shifted, restless. Somewhere in the shadows, Kael's presence lingered, unseen yet undeniable.
The hunt had begun.
—by Aurea
And somewhere, in the quiet of the Academy, a thread long hidden stirred. It pulled at memory, at instinct, at something ancient, unyielding. The game had begun — and neither of them could escape it.
'Even the dreams are no longer dreams. They are warnings, promises, and a path I alone will lead you through...'