Elior nearly ran into his room the moment he reached the top floor of the elite dormitory.
The hallway was quiet — polished wood, soft glowing lamps, and a faint magical hum the academy used for stabilization charms.
He shut the door behind him… then immediately collapsed face-first onto his bed.
"Why… why does he talk like that…?"
His voice was muffled in the pillows, hot and shaky.
He rolled over, covering his face with both hands.
Everything replayed in brutal detail:
Kael saying "mine."
Kael's hand on his waist.
Kael's breath on his ear.
Kael whispering "look at me when you say goodnight."
Kael's eyes, dark and soft at the same time, like he was barely restraining something.
Elior hugged a pillow tightly.
"I can't handle this… he's too much."
He sat up, cheeks burning, hand going to his chest — because his heartbeat refused to settle.
Every time he forced himself to breathe normally…
Kael's voice slipped back into his mind:
"Tell them to stop looking at you."
"You always run."
"And I always catch you."
Elior groaned and buried his face in the pillow again.
"Why does he say things like that…? And why does it— why does it make me feel—"
He couldn't finish the thought.
He walked to the balcony, sliding the glass door open.
A cold breeze drifted in, brushing his face.
He exhaled slowly.
"…Kael."
The whisper left him without permission.
He didn't know why saying the name made his stomach twist and flutter painfully.
A faint pressure touched the air — like someone's magic had stirred far away.
Elior frowned.
"…It feels weird tonight."
He didn't know the feeling was coming from someone whose thoughts were drowning in him.
He didn't know Kael was losing control.
He didn't know something ancient was waking.
Elior only held the railing tighter, unaware of the storm rising elsewhere — for him.
Kael reached his estate — the quiet, beautiful home he lived in alone, maintained by attendants who stayed in the outer quarters.
He walked into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
Everything was silent.
Too silent.
Kael pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the aftershocks of Elior's goodnight.
It should've been harmless.
But it dug in.
Clawed in.
Refused to let go.
He sank onto the bed, elbows on his knees.
And then—
the dream struck again.
Not fully.
Just a fragment.
Elior's hand slipping from his.
The blood.
The last breath.
His name said like a farewell.
Kael's fingers gripped the sheets painfully.
A tremor ran through him — not fear.
Rage.
Possession.
Loss.
Love twisted into desperation.
His breath broke.
And then—
his magic snapped.
A pulse exploded from him — raw, uncontrolled.
The lamps flickered.
Shadows stretched unnaturally.
The air thickened like a storm being born inside the walls.
His aura spilled out violently.
Kael lifted his head slowly.
His eyes glowed faintly — not normal, not human.
"…Elior."
His voice cracked—low, broken, shaking with something ancient.
The floor vibrated.
Drawers rattled.
Curtains shook without wind.
Kael stood.
He didn't remember deciding to.
His magic moved first.
Shadows curled around his ankles like loyal animals.
Light cracked along the wall like magic bleeding through.
His body turned toward Elior's dorm—
on its own.
One step.
Another.
His breathing turned uneven.
His fingers twitched like reaching for someone missing.
The magic pulled him, tugged him, begged him—
Go to him.
Protect him.
Find him before he disappears again.
Kael reached the door, hand on the handle.
Just a twist—
Just one step—
He'd be outside, walking straight to Elior in the cold night.
His chest seized.
His pulse surged painfully.
"I can't lose him again… I can't…"
The door handle creaked under his grip.
Lights burst overhead.
A picture frame fell.
Frost formed on the window.
Kael's eyes widened—
in fear.
Not of the magic.
Of himself.
Of how desperately — dangerously — he wanted Elior.
He pressed his forehead to the door.
"…I… shouldn't…"
His voice was barely human.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
He forced his fingers to release the handle.
His hand trembled violently.
The shadows recoiled like disappointed beasts.
The room slowly steadied.
Kael whispered one last time — quiet, cracked, aching:
"…Goodnight, Elior."
His magic softened — but did not fade.
It circled him like a restless heartbeat.
Like a vow.
Like a warning.
Kael stayed by the door, breathing hard.
The frost on the window thinned.
The shaking stopped.
But the shadows at his feet…
did not fade.
They loosened but didn't leave — hovering like creatures waiting for their master to wake completely.
Kael's knees weakened.
Magic hummed beneath his skin, unsettled, half-formed.
His eyes dimmed…
but didn't return to normal.
A faint ring of light pulsed in them, slow and rhythmic —
like something inside him had opened its eyes but wasn't fully awake.
Kael swallowed, resisting the pull toward Elior again.
"…Not yet," he whispered.
Not to himself.
To the magic.
The air quieted.
But the hum didn't vanish.
He backed away and sat on the edge of the bed, fingers still twitching.
Deep under his skin—
his magic shifted.
Small.
Soft.
Barely there.
But real.
A first stir.
A partial awakening.
Not unleashed.
Not controlled.
Just beginning.
Kael lay down, half-asleep, half-awake…
while something inside him quietly began to rise.
Morning came softly to the academy grounds, the sky painted in pale blues and silver-gold streaks that shimmered against the tall enchanted spires. The air thrummed quietly with dormant magic — the kind that never fully slept within a place built for those who shaped the elements.
Elior stepped through the arched entrance of the main building, rubbing his eyes awake. The hallways glowed faintly with suspended lantern-lights, floating like sleepy fireflies above the stone floor. Runes etched along the walls pulsed softly in rhythm with the academy's living mana core.
Yet today… something felt different.
The air was too still.
Like the academy itself was holding its breath.
Elior slowed, fingers brushing the strap of his satchel.
A strange heaviness pressed against his skin — a trembling tension threading through the walls, the lights, even the mana in his own body.
Why does it feel like the whole building is watching me…?
He shook the feeling off and climbed the staircase toward Class Wing C.
Halfway up the third-floor corridor, his steps faltered.
There—
standing near the classroom door—
was Kael.
Not leaning against the wall with casual arrogance.
Not smirking with that dangerous spark in his eyes.
Not prowling toward Elior like he usually did when he wanted a reaction.
Just standing.
Quiet.
Still.
Almost… fragile, though Kael would never allow anyone to call him that.
The air around him vibrated faintly — like the mana itself recognized him and was unsure how to behave.
Elior swallowed and approached cautiously.
"…Kael? You're early."
Kael looked at him slowly, like he had to force himself to shift his attention away from the distant place inside his thoughts. His eyes were steady, softer than usual, stripped of their sharpness.
"Good morning," Kael said quietly.
Elior nearly tripped.
Kael never greeted anyone normally.
He either teased, glared, smirked, or said nothing at all.
But this…
This was gentle.
Almost polite.
Elior's heart stuttered uneasily.
"…Morning," he murmured.
Kael nodded and walked beside him into the classroom, their steps echoing softly.
And Elior noticed it immediately—
Kael stayed beside him.
Not crowding him.
Not leaning too close.
Not breathing down his neck like he liked to.
Just… existing quietly.
Elior's chest tightened.
Kael's silence was far more intimidating than his usual intensity.
This isn't normal. Something is wrong…
The morning passed in a blur of parchment scrolls, glowing sigils, and trembling quill-pens. Elior tried forming a stable sigil ring over and over, but his mana flickered inconsistently.
Normally, Kael would've used this exact moment to ruin him — leaning too close, whispering something sinful right against his ear, or brushing his fingers "accidentally" along Elior's wrist until Elior's concentration shattered completely.
But today—
A warm presence appeared behind him.
Kael's hand gently steadied Elior's wrist.
"Your angle is off by four degrees," Kael murmured, voice low and unthreatening.
"Here. Hold it like this."
Elior's breath hitched.
Kael's magic wrapped around his hand like warm mist — controlled, calm, almost… gentle.
The sigil ring stabilized immediately.
Elior turned slowly, confused and flustered.
"You're being… helpful?"
Kael blinked once, slowly.
"I should be."
"You don't usually—"
Kael tilted his head a fraction.
"Do you prefer the usual way?"
Elior's face burned.
"N-No! I mean—! I don't hate it but— I mean—"
Kael said nothing.
His eyes lowered, lashes trembling once — a small crack in his perfect calm.
His aura pulsed gently against the room's magic.
Something was trembling inside him.
Something he was struggling to contain.
Elior opened his mouth—
but Kael had already turned away.
Between classes, Elior bumped into a tall senior who frowned sharply.
Before Elior could apologize—
Kael stepped between them with silent precision.
No glare.
No threat.
Just a presence so calm and controlled that the senior stepped back instinctively.
Kael wasn't angry.
He was protective.
Too protective.
"Kael…" Elior tugged his sleeve gently, cheeks warm. "Are you okay?"
Kael looked at him for a long moment.
"I'm fine."
But the magic around him disagreed — it trembled softly, restless in the air.
Elior wasn't convinced.
The cafeteria glowed with floating lanterns and crystal pillars that hummed with temperature-stabilizing spells. Elior grabbed a tray—
—and nearly dropped it when Kael placed another tray in front of him.
His exact preferred meal.
Elior stared.
"Kael… this is what I usually eat."
"You didn't have breakfast," Kael said softly.
"You get dizzy when your mana is low."
Elior blinked rapidly.
"H-How do you know that?"
Kael paused.
His answer was too honest.
Too simple.
"I watch you."
Elior choked on air.
"W-WHEN?!"
Kael didn't answer.
He simply sat beside him quietly.
No teasing.
No staring.
No pushing him to the edge.
Just silence.
A deep, heavy silence that felt more dangerous than anything Kael had ever spoken aloud.
Elior ate slowly, glancing at Kael now and then.
Kael never looked back.
He just sat there, controlled, calm, almost… restrained.
He's holding something inside himself so tightly it might break.
Elior didn't know what scared him more —
Kael's usual intensity…
or the terrifying quiet replacing it.
After the last class, the sky dimmed to lavender twilight. The dorm building shimmered with blue wards and protection runes.
Kael walked beside him in silence.
Not close enough to touch.
Not far enough to ignore.
Just pacing Elior's steps perfectly.
Elior finally stopped walking.
"…Kael," he said softly, "what's wrong with you today?"
Kael froze for the first time all day.
A faint tremor rippled through the air around him — magic leaking in a whisper before he forced it still.
Elior stepped closer.
"You're not teasing me. You're not glaring at anyone. You're not even… looking at me."
Kael inhaled, jaw clenching.
When he spoke, his voice was quiet, tightly controlled.
"If I act normally," he whispered,
"I won't be able to stop myself."
Elior's breath caught.
"S-Stop yourself from what…?"
Kael finally met his eyes.
For one heartbeat—
one fragile moment—
his irises glowed faintly.
The same glow from last night.
The same glow from the awakening.
"From going too far," he murmured.
The lanterns flickered.
The air tightened.
Elior's heart slammed painfully in his chest.
Kael stepped back, as if distance was the only thing holding him together.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered.
Then he turned away.
But Elior, stunned and trembling, didn't see—
the shadow standing silently at the far end of the hall, watching both of them leave.
Watching Kael's magic crackle.
Watching Elior's confusion.
Watching the distance between them widen.
Unseen.
Unnoticed.
Too close.
And far too interested.
Elior stood frozen long after Kael's footsteps faded into the quiet corridor.
The lamps overhead hummed weakly, recovering from the sudden tremor of Kael's leaking magic.
Elior pressed a hand to his chest.
His heartbeat was a mess — uneven, too warm, too fast.
"If I act normally… I won't be able to stop myself."
Kael's voice echoed mercilessly in his mind, turning his knees faint.
What did that even mean?
What was he holding back?
Why was he acting like being near Elior was dangerous?
Elior wasn't sure if he was supposed to be afraid.
Or flattered.
Or… something else entirely.
He exhaled shakily and finally turned toward the dorm entrance.
The runes on the door recognized him instantly, shimmering softly as they allowed him inside.
The moment he stepped into his room, the feeling hit him again—
That strange tightness in the air he'd felt all day.
But this time it wasn't the academy's tension.
It was something sitting in his chest.
A soft ache he didn't know how to name.
Elior dropped his satchel on the desk and sank onto the edge of his bed.
The room was warm, cozy, and faintly smelling of the herbal wards placed by the academy healers.
Normally, being here calmed him.
But today his thoughts swirled too much.
He pulled his knees up, hugging them loosely as he tried to make sense of Kael's strange behavior.
"He wasn't teasing me at all today…" he murmured.
It felt wrong.
Not because he liked being teased —
(he absolutely did NOT — definitely not — mostly not) —
but because the shift in Kael was too drastic.
Kael was intense.
Blunt.
Sharp-edged.
Always watching him with eyes that felt too warm, too focused.
But today…
Today he acted like every breath near Elior required discipline.
Like being close meant losing control.
Elior buried his face in his hands.
"…Kael…"
His voice came out small.
He didn't know what he wanted Kael to be — but he didn't want this version.
The version that looked like he was restraining himself from breaking.
Elior lifted his head slightly.
Something changed in him after last night.
Something powerful.
Something Kael didn't know how to handle yet.
Elior felt another small squeeze in his chest.
And then another thought struck him.
Wait.
Wait.
How did Kael walk him to his door today so perfectly?
Elior sat up straight.
There were dozens of hallways, shifting rune panels, and moving illusion-walls designed to confuse intruders. Even students got lost for months.
Kael had only been near the dorm wing ONCE.
And that was earlier today, when Elior had guided him step-by-step, explaining which wards were safe to cross.
So—
"…So that means…" Elior mumbled into his blanket.
"…I was the one who brought him here…"
Heat rushed to his cheeks.
Of course Kael would remember the path.
Kael remembered everything Elior did, even the smallest details.
He noticed things Elior didn't even realize he was doing.
Elior groaned into his pillow.
"I'm really stupid…"
He kicked his feet lightly in embarrassment.
Still…
The memory of Kael walking confidently to his door made Elior's heart squeeze.
Not scary.
Not creepy.
Just…
Kael.
Quiet. Watchful.
Always paying attention in ways Elior didn't.
"…But that doesn't explain why he was acting so strange today…"
Elior rolled onto his back and stared at the faint glow runes tracing his ceiling.
Something still felt wrong.
Like an invisible thread pulling at him.
He rubbed his chest again, heart oddly restless.
Kael… are you hurting somewhere?
He blinked.
The thought had come naturally. Too naturally.
He didn't question it.
Just breathed quietly into the dimness.
Outside his dorm window, the evening air shimmered faintly.
The wards around the building vibrated softly, as though reacting to a presence they couldn't fully identify.
A darker shape stood near the far corner of the courtyard — still, quiet, almost blending into the carved stone.
If one looked directly at it, there would be nothing.
But if one looked away—
The shape seemed to pulse.
Move.
Breathe.
It tilted its head slightly, observing Elior through the faint distortion in the glass.
Elior couldn't see it.
He couldn't feel it.
But something in his instincts made him tug his blanket closer around his shoulders.
A faint whisper rippled through the air.
Not a voice, not a word —
but a presence.
Curious.
Old.
And watching.
The shadow lingered only a moment longer before melting soundlessly into the evening fog.
Elior shivered.
But he didn't know why.
The academy mansion assigned to Kael gleamed under the twilight sky, wards humming gently along its archways.
Staff moved quietly through the halls, leaving Kael untouched — always untouched — as if sensing the danger coiled inside him.
Kael stood in his private room, hands braced against the edge of his desk.
His breath shook.
Not weak.
Overwhelmed.
His magic wasn't just pulsing anymore —
it was clawing at him from the inside, begging to break free.
Golden sparks flickered at his fingertips, coils of awakening mana twisting like restless serpents around his arms.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
Control. Stay in control.
But the moment Elior's face flashed in his mind—
His restraint cracked.
Magic surged through the room, rattling the crystal lamps and shaking the spell-etched windows.
Kael slammed a hand against the wall, forcing the energy back.
"Damn it—"
His voice broke.
He dropped to one knee, breath trembling, sweat forming along his temple.
He had been fine this morning.
Fine last night.
Fine until Elior looked at him today with those soft, worried eyes.
Then everything inside him burned.
His awakening wasn't complete yet —
and that made it dangerous.
A half-awakened mage was unstable, instinct-driven, too easily pulled toward the strongest emotional trigger.
And his trigger…
was Elior.
Kael dragged in a shaky breath.
"I can't… lose control around him…"
Because if he did—
he wouldn't stop at teasing.
Wouldn't stop at touching.
Wouldn't stop at holding him too close.
He would go too far.
And Kael refused to be the reason Elior felt fear.
His fingers dug into the floor.
"I have to stay away… until I can control it."
But the moment he said that—
His magic rebelled violently, flaring with sharp pain, rejecting the thought of distance.
Kael gritted his teeth.
The magic didn't want to stay away.
It wanted Elior.
Because his awakening…had resonated with Elior last night.
A bond beginning.
A pull forming.
Kael pressed trembling fingers to his forehead.
"…Elior…"
He hated the way the name came out —
breathless, needy, unrestrained.
He slammed his hand on the ground again, controlling his breathing with disciplined force.
But the truth was undeniable:
He could stay away from Elior.
But his magic couldn't.
— by Aurea;"Memory stirs slowly—first in the heart, then in the magic."