---
The storm was gone. But Kael could still feel it lingering — not in the clouds above, but in the air around the academy. Heavy, charged. The kind of stillness that warned you something wasn't over. Just… waiting.
He followed a floating silver orb through a spiraling corridor of ancient stone, its soft hum echoing with every slow pulse of light. The walls around him shimmered faintly with embedded runes — some flickering, some alive, some ancient enough to feel like they were watching him.
Kael didn't look nervous. But his eyes were sharp, scanning, absorbing everything.
The orb stopped before a dark wooden door with silver trim and a glowing glyph etched into the center. The glyph flared briefly, scanning his presence, then dimmed with a low "click". The door opened inward.
Inside, the dorm room was bigger than expected. Three beds, floating light crystals in the corners, and enchanted shelves that rearranged themselves to fit the number of belongings. At the far end, a wide arched window showed a false twilight sky — shifting clouds and a warm orange glow, no matter the real weather outside.
Two students were already inside.
"—I swear, if this one talks in his sleep like the last guy, I'm gonna hex his mouth shut," the loud one said.
He had messy brown curls, bright green eyes, and his uniform robe was on backward. He looked up and grinned the moment Kael stepped in. "Whoa. You look like death with good hair."
Kael blinked once. "Thanks."
"Zeke Vallon," the boy said proudly. "Exploding potions enthusiast, two-time detention record holder, and proud resident of Room 312."
The other student barely glanced up from a book.
He was taller, lean, with pale blond hair cut sharply and resting just above icy blue eyes. Calm, cold, serious.
"Ren Aster," he said curtly. "Just… don't touch my things."
Kael dropped his cloak onto the unclaimed bed and shook some water out of his hair. He glanced around once, taking in the room's magical structure — the security wards, the illusion field in the ceiling, even the faint tremor of detection runes under the floorboards.
"I'm Kael," he said. No last name offered. No more words needed.
Zeke flopped back onto his bed. "This is gonna be fun."
---
Later that night, the dorm lights dimmed on their own as the hour passed midnight. The ceiling above flickered, revealing a projection of a fake starry sky. It was beautifully rendered, like an open dome to the heavens, but Kael didn't even glance at it.
He lay on his back, arms crossed behind his head, staring at nothing.
Memories pulsed behind his eyes.
Not clear ones. Fragments.
A tower on fire.
Screams.
Steel. Blood.
A woman reaching for him — her face blurred.
He didn't know if they were memories or dreams. But he knew they were real.
---
"WAKE. UP. STUDENTS."
The morning alarm was a literal shockwave of sound. The beds vibrated. Runes on the walls flashed red.
"Drills begin in TEN MINUTES. FIELD GEAR. MOVE."
Zeke fell out of bed with a scream. "Is this legal?!"
Ren was already halfway into his boots.
Kael was gone.
They found him standing outside the dorm archway, already dressed, watching the other students run past in panic.
"You're one of those 'wakes up before the alarm' types, huh?" Zeke muttered, yawning.
---
The East Field was more of a battlefield than a training ground.
It stretched wide under the cold morning sky, surrounded by floating towers and watching eyes. Platforms hovered in the air where professors stood like silent judges. The field itself was divided into zones — illusion wards, elemental traps, dueling circles, and beast pens.
Hundreds of first-years were gathered.
Then came the silence.
Professor Draeven stepped forward, wearing crimson robes and no expression.
"Welcome," he said, voice quiet but unnaturally amplified. "Yesterday you survived. Today, you are tested."
He walked slowly along the front row, eyes scanning.
"You are not safe here. Magic does not protect the weak. It punishes them."
No one dared speak.
"Today's drill is not written in any book. It is instinct, pressure, chaos."
Without warning, the ground lit up with glyphs.
Kael's eyes narrowed.
Then — the world dropped out beneath them.
Screams echoed as the field shattered, students falling into a massive illusion-generated arena far beneath the real one. The simulation was on.
The Headmaster's tower was darker than the rest of the school — black stone, no windows, just a spiral staircase that hummed with cold magic.
Kael stepped into the circular chamber. Kaldric stood again by the massive glass wall, his silver mask glowing softly in the moonlight.
"You attract attention," Kaldric said.
"I don't try to."
"You don't try not to."
Kael stayed silent.
Kaldric turned slowly. "You fought without casting. You moved like the illusion couldn't recognize you."
Kael shrugged lightly. "Maybe it couldn't."
"Why?"
"Because I'm broken," Kael said simply.
Silence stretched.
Kaldric stepped closer.
"You used magic you weren't taught. Forms older than this school."
Kael's amber eyes flashed faintly.
"I didn't learn it," he said. "I remembered it."
"That's worse."
Kael tilted his head. "Should I apologize for existing?"
The Headmaster stared at him through the mask.
"…Who are you really?"
Kael stepped forward, eyes sharp as a blade.
"Kael Vireon," he said softly. "Seventeen. No parents. No past. Just an ordinary boy trying to pass magic school without getting devoured by illusions or questioned to death."
The air pulsed slightly.
But his voice never shook.
Kaldric didn't answer. Instead, he turned back to the window.
"The academy will uncover the truth eventually."
Kael was already walking toward the door.
He paused just before leaving, glancing over his shoulder.
"Then I hope it's ready for it."
---
Monsters surged out from shadows. Stone hounds, flame serpents, mimic creatures. Real enough to harm, but not to kill — unless you were careless.
A student shrieked as a shadow beast tackled her. Zeke tripped over a root and barely dodged an animated vine.
Ren moved like a practiced duelist, slicing cleanly through illusions.
Kael didn't draw a weapon. Didn't cast.
A lizard-like creature lunged at him — and stopped midair, suspended by an invisible force. Kael tilted his head. The beast crumpled into dust.
He moved slowly, deliberately, eyes half-lidded. Calm.
The illusion warped, responding to him, but couldn't quite touch him.
Draeven watched from above, eyes locked.
The simulation lasted twelve minutes.
By the end, over half the students were collapsed, groaning, or shaken.
Kael stood where he started. Unmoved.
---
That evening, while Ren bandaged his shoulder and Zeke ranted about being chased by a hallucinated goat demon, a message orb floated in through their window.
*"Kael Vireon. Summoned by Headmaster Kaldric. Immediately."*
Zeke's mouth dropped. "Dude. Are you... cursed? Or famous?"
Kael didn't answer. He just stood and left.
---