Dawn broke over Ashthorne in a smear of red sunlight, the kind that stained the stone towers like fresh blood. Fog clung low to the ground, refusing to lift. The academy always felt alive at this hour—breathing, watching, waiting.
Dorm Nine was silent.
Too silent.
No footsteps.
No chatter.
No doors opening.
Everyone was afraid.
Word had already spread.
A creature had broken through the floor last night.
A student saw it.
A student heard it.
A student survived it.
And a single name rippled quietly across the muttered rumors:
Caelum Veylor.
He sat on the edge of his bed, boots laced, uniform crisp, hands calm.
The corpse from last night had vanished.
Not dragged.
Not carried.
Vanished.
Taken somewhere deeper beneath the dorm.
By something else.
Something that didn't want it found.
Caelum stood, buttoned his collar, and stepped into the hallway.
Lira was waiting.
Hair tied, cloak worn, eyes tired but relieved the instant she saw him.
"Good morning," she whispered weakly.
"Morning."
Jalen appeared next, dark circles under his eyes, glancing nervously at the floorboards.
"Let's… get to class," he muttered. "Maybe being around other people will help me forget that something tried to claw into my room last night."
Caelum didn't comment.
He walked ahead, steps light, posture relaxed.
Every sense sharpened.
Something was different today.
Eyes tracked him wherever he went.
Whispers followed him like shadows.
Even the air around him seemed charged.
The academy had noticed.
The Path to the Main Hall
As they climbed the stone steps toward the central walkway, groups of students parted without speaking.
Some moved out of caution.
Some out of fear.
Some out of instinct they couldn't explain.
Marenne appeared at Caelum's side, books stacked perfectly in her arms.
"You vanished right after the last bell yesterday," she said matter-of-factly. "There were no signs of fighting. No noise. But this morning students saw claw marks on the hallway walls."
Caelum didn't respond.
"So?" Marenne pressed. "What happened?"
Lira bit her lip anxiously.
"It was a mutated creature," she whispered. "It came out of the floor. Caelum—"
"Handled it," Marenne finished, eyes narrowing. "Somehow."
They reached the massive doors of the Main Hall as students funneled in.
Marenne lowered her voice.
"People are talking," she warned. "Instructor Halien. Instructor Rennik. Even Dravos."
Caelum's eyes flicked upward—toward the carved stone gargoyles perched high above the hall entrance.
One of them turned its head toward him.
Just slightly.
The stone cracked faintly.
Lira gasped.
Marenne froze.
Caelum tilted his head.
Interesting.
Not an illusion.
Not a trick of the light.
A surveillance sentinel—activated remotely.
Watching him.
Inside the Main Hall
The ceiling stretched impossibly high, banners draped between pillars carved with ancient sigil language. Students found their divisions, taking their seats on tiered stone benches.
Support Division gathered at the far right—small, quiet, overlooked.
Caelum took a seat in the front row.
Not to stand out—
but because it gave him the best view.
Lira sat beside him.
Marenne sat just behind.
Jalen slumped in with a sigh.
The room buzzed.
Seraphine Pyrell sat with Magic Division, flame-touched eyes flickering toward Caelum again and again, not blinking.
House Kaldros heirs whispered among themselves, glaring at him.
House Edevra students watched with cold calculation.
House Umbraxis students didn't look at him at all.
They looked around him.
As if he came with his own invisible shadow.
Then—
Footsteps.
Not loud.
Not heavy.
Just present.
Every conversation died.
A man entered the hall.
Tall.
Thin.
Robes dark as midnight.
Face pale as old wax.
Eyes like abyssal ink.
Chains wrapped around his forearms and wrists, glowing faintly with sealing runes.
Artheon the Bound.
Instructor of the Forbidden Division.
Every student stiffened.
Even nobles held their breath.
Artheon walked to the center of the hall.
He didn't look at the class.
He looked directly at Caelum.
Students followed his gaze.
Whispers hissed like serpents.
Why is the Forbidden Division here?
Who is he looking at?
Why the Reject Dorm kid?
What did Veylor do—?
Caelum's expression didn't change.
Artheon lifted one hand.
The room dimmed.
Shadows thickened.
The banners overhead shivered as if caught in a gale none of the students could feel.
"Students," Artheon said softly, voice like silk cut by glass, "today, I come with… concern."
He paced slowly, chains clinking in the quiet.
"A creature in Dorm Nine was found dead. Its corruption resonances… broken."
Lira stiffened.
Jalen swallowed.
Marenne didn't blink.
Artheon's gaze shifted back to Caelum.
"There were no signs of a struggle. No Sign of a weapon. No energy residue. No panic. Only… quiet unraveling."
He tilted his head.
"So I ask."
A ripple of discomfort washed through the hall.
"Who did it?"
Silence.
Artheon let the silence stretch until it became suffocating.
Then he smiled faintly.
"Let us not pretend," he whispered. "I already know."
His chains rattled once, glowing brighter.
"Caelum Veylor."
A collective inhale.
Lira clutched the edge of her bench.
Marenne leaned forward, pulse racing.
Seraphine Pyrell's eyes burned.
Caelum simply raised his chin slightly.
"Yes?" he said.
Artheon's smile widened, too thin to be human.
"You did not kill it."
Gasps.
Caelum remained still.
Artheon stepped closer, each footstep as precise as a judge walking toward a sentence.
"You unmade it."
The room felt colder.
Much colder.
Artheon stopped a few feet from Caelum's row.
"There are only three kinds of beings capable of that," he murmured.
"One: a Transcendent. Which you are not."
"Two: a corrupted anomaly. Which you are not."
"And three…"
He leaned down slightly.
"…something unnatural."
The hall was motionless.
Dead quiet.
Caelum met Artheon's void-black stare calmly.
"And what do you think I am?" he asked softly.
Artheon's smile was slow.
Delighted.
Hungry.
"I don't know," he whispered. "But I will."
He straightened suddenly, chains rattling sharply.
"Welcome to Ashthorne, Caelum Veylor. We will be… observing you."
He turned and left the hall without another word.
Students exhaled all at once.
The moment he vanished, the torches flared back to life.
Whispers exploded instantly.
"He—he confronted a Forbidden instructor?"
"Why didn't Veylor deny it?"
"What is he?"
"That was terrifying—"
Caelum adjusted his sleeve calmly.
Lira grabbed his arm.
"Caelum, what does he mean—what did you do to that creature?"
Marenne leaned forward eagerly.
"Yes. How did you kill it? No—how did you unmake it?"
He looked at both of them.
His voice was soft.
"I touched its thread."
They stared, confused.
He smiled faintly.
"No need to worry."
But as he gazed toward the massive stone pillars of the hall, he sensed something else.
A deeper whisper.
A pulse from beneath the academy's foundations.
Calling him.
Pulling him.
"…bearer…
…ready…
…awake…"
Caelum's eyes darkened.
Class will be interesting today.