The courtyard of Eryndor Spirit Academy always felt larger in the morning than at any other time of day. Maybe it was the way the sun rose behind the eastern tower, throwing long, sharp shadows across the cobbled ground. Maybe it was the sheer flood of students—uniforms fluttering, boots thudding, voices merging into a chaotic roar that echoed between the old stone walls. The place felt like a coliseum built to harvest brilliance… and crush anyone who couldn't keep up.
Kael and Finn joined the stream of first-years pushing toward the central plaza. Above them, banners representing the four primary disciplines—Light, Flame, Storm, and Earth—swayed in the breeze like sleeping beasts.
Finn nudged Kael's shoulder. "It's louder today."
Kael scanned the crowd. "Too many rumors. Too many expectations."
"And too many egos packed in one place," Finn muttered.
He wasn't wrong. The Academy's morning assembly was the one time every student, from the greenest first-year to the most terrifying final-year, stood together. Power bled through the air like static. Even those without awakened spirit-cores generated an energy of their own—ambition, envy, hunger. Humans didn't need magic to be dangerous.
They reached their class-line. Students arranged themselves automatically, row by row. Uniforms gleamed in the fresh sunlight—white coats for Light students, crimson for Flame, blue for Storm, green for Earth. Kael's coat caught the sun sharply, glowing almost too brightly, and a few nearby students glanced at him with narrowed eyes.
Finn, wearing Storm-blue, folded his arms and kept his gaze straight.
Behind them, whispers began to ripple.
"That's him… the one who argued with Instructor Marthis yesterday."
"He's the light-core kid, right?"
"He looks normal for someone with a legendary spirit core."
"He doesn't. Look at his eyes."
Kael felt the attention prickle at his spine, but he didn't flinch. His expression stayed still, steady. Zara's words from the morning felt like a small hand holding him upright: Don't be alone today.
Finn shifted closer, his presence solid as a wall.
A horn sounded across the courtyard—deep, resonant, ancient. Conversations snapped shut. Back rows straightened. A hush spread like frost.
The Head Instructor stepped onto the raised platform at the front.
Master Vaelor.
His coat was pure black—reserved only for those who had mastered more than one spirit discipline. His hair was silver, though not from age; it had streaked that way after surviving a spirit-realm rift incident years ago. His eyes were the unsettling kind—sharp, assessing, the eyes of someone who had seen miracles and monstrosities in equal measure.
His voice rolled across the courtyard, steady as carved stone.
"Students of Eryndor Academy. Welcome to a new morning."
His gaze swept across the rows. Kael felt it brush past him like a cold wind.
"In this place," Vaelor continued, "discipline is forged, potential is carved, and truth is tested. You do not stand here to look impressive. You stand here to prove yourselves worthy of what lies ahead."
Silence tightened like a drawn bowstring.
Kael felt a faint tremor behind his ribcage—the Light Spirit Core reacting. It always pulsed in crowds, sensing emotions like echoes of an invisible river.
Vaelor continued, tone deepening, gaining weight.
"Some of you carry powerful spirit cores. Some of you carry none at all. Strength is not in your inheritance but in your endurance. Those who believe their lineage alone will protect them"—his gaze snapped toward a cluster of elite students—"will be the first to break."
A ripple of discomfort moved through the courtyard.
Finn breathed out slowly, under his breath. "He's targeting the nobles again."
Kael murmured, "Or warning them."
Vaelor lifted a long scroll, its edges marked with golden seals. "Today's announcements."
Students straightened, bracing.
"First: Combat trials for first-years will begin next week."
A low wave of murmurs rustled the air. Some students paled. Others grinned.
Finn whispered, "Well. That explains why everyone looks like they slept three hours."
Kael didn't respond. His mind was already calculating—who he might face, what strategy he'd need, how to keep his light-core from overwhelming his control.
Vaelor raised his hand; the courtyard fell silent again.
"Second: Students are advised to avoid the outer southern district after sunset. Authorities will be active there today."
A shudder ran through the crowd.
Kael stiffened.
Finn's head turned sharply. "That's about the execution Rowan mentioned."
Kael kept his face calm, though his pulse climbed. "Seems the Academy knows."
"Knows too much," Finn muttered.
Whispers broke out in the rows behind them:
"They say the man confessed."
"No—he didn't. They're executing him anyway."
"My parents said the spirit-test marks him guilty."
"What if the test was wrong?"
"What if it wasn't murder? What if it was a dark-core user?"
Kael's heart tightened. Every mention of "dark" scraped against something raw inside him.
Vaelor didn't interrupt the murmurs. He let them swirl, ferment, and finally die on their own.
Then he spoke again, voice lower, heavier:
"Let this serve as a reminder. The world beyond these walls is not gentle. Your training is not merely for prestige—but survival."
Kael felt that line strike straight through him. Not metaphor. Not drama. Truth.
Vaelor stepped back slightly, allowing the second instructor, Mistress Aradel, to move forward. Her presence was lighter, calming, her Earth-green robes flowing as she addressed the assembly.
"Before you begin classes, each discipline group will meet briefly with its mentors. Stay in formation until called."
Kael exhaled slowly. "Here it comes."
Finn smirked faintly. "Try not to intimidate the Light division this time."
Kael elbowed him lightly. "I didn't do anything."
"You exist. Apparently that's enough."
One by one, the mentors stepped out from the side of the platform.
Light Mentor Seryn called, "Light division—front left."
Flame Mentor Drosk boomed, "Flame division—front right!"
Storm Mentor Harnell raised his staff, crackling faint electricity. "Storm to me."
Earth Mentor Dailen simply nodded. "Earth students, center."
The lines shifted like waves folding in on themselves.
Kael moved with the Light students, Finn splitting away toward Storm-blue, though he glanced back once—an instinctive check. Kael noticed. It steadied him.
The Light division formed a half-circle around Mentor Seryn, a woman in her thirties with eyes too observant for comfort. Her robes shimmered faintly, embroidered with sigils of illumination and clarity.
She addressed them quietly, but somehow her soft voice carried farther than Vaelor's booming announcements.
"Light is not gentle," she said, gaze sweeping over the students. "Do not mistake it for purity. Light reveals everything—including what you wish to hide."
Some students shifted uncomfortably.
Seryn's eyes stopped on Kael for a heartbeat too long. "Some of you carry cores that resonate too strongly. Control will be mandatory."
A faint murmur rose.
Kael held her gaze without flinching.
Seryn nodded slightly—as if acknowledging a silent challenge—and continued her briefing. "You will receive your training assignments today. Partner sessions begin tomorrow."
Partner sessions.
Kael's mind sharpened instantly.
Across the courtyard, Finn was speaking to his Storm mentor. The wind around him stirred faintly—always reacting to his emotions.
Kael wondered whether they'd be paired.
He both wanted it… and feared it.
Seryn dismissed them with a flick of her hand. "To classrooms."
The courtyard erupted back into movement—students scattering like startled birds, energy returning in waves.
Finn reached Kael within moments.
"So," Finn said, breath slightly quick from crossing the courtyard, "did your mentor threaten you?"
Kael smirked. "Not directly. Yours?"
Finn sighed. "Storm Mentor Harnell said, quote: 'If you cause another indoor cyclone like last semester's demonstration, I'm sending you to discipline hall personally.'"
Kael raised a brow. "That's fair."
"It was one time."
"You blew the roof tiles off the west wing."
Finn muttered, "Still one time."
They walked side by side toward the academic corridor. The sun climbed higher behind them, warming the walls, filling the morning with a gleaming, hopeful glow.
Kael felt it settle on his skin like a quiet blessing.
Finn nudged him lightly. "You good?"
Kael nodded. "Yeah. Zara wished me luck."
Finn grinned. "Then we're invincible."
Kael didn't say it aloud, but he felt something shifting inside him—like today was the first tremor in a series of changes. Some good. Some dangerous.
And he couldn't shake the sensation that the Academy morning assembly had marked the beginning of something neither of them were prepared for.
The day had only just begun.
And the world outside was already stirring.