The silence that followed the resonance test felt heavier than the vibration itself.
For several long seconds, no one moved.
The Great Hall had been built to withstand calamity. Its vaulted ceiling was reinforced with layered enchantments, its marble pillars etched with runes meant to suppress magical backlash. Even so, a faint tremor still rippled through the stone beneath Adrian's knee as the last echo of the resonance faded into nothingness.
Adrian remained where he was, one knee pressed to the cold floor, his head bowed as if in reverence. In truth, he stayed there to hide the way his body trembled. His chest burned, each breath scraping raw against his lungs. The air felt too thin, too sharp, as though the hall itself had not yet forgiven him for what he had done.
White sparks drifted through his vision like falling ash.
He blinked slowly, willing the dizziness to pass.
He could feel them.
The eyes.
They pressed into his back with suffocating weight. Hundreds of gazes layered together until it felt less like attention and more like a physical force. Instructors who had taught magic for decades. Students who dreamed of greatness. Nobles and commoners alike, all united in stunned silence.
Behind him, the obsidian crystal pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
A gentle heat radiated outward, brushing against his skin in slow waves. The conduit stone was not meant to do that. It was a tool, a dead thing shaped to measure potential, yet now it thrummed softly, as if reluctant to return to dormancy.
The rhythm matched his heart.
Adrian swallowed.
It felt wrong to stand while it still echoed like that, as though leaving now would interrupt a conversation that had not yet ended.
A large hand settled on his shoulder.
The contact anchored him instantly.
William Ashvale did not squeeze or shake him. He simply rested his hand there, steady and unyielding, a reminder that Adrian was not alone in this hall full of sharpened curiosity. Adrian felt the familiar presence of his father through that single touch, solid as bedrock.
William's expression held pride, but it was restrained, tightly controlled. His eyes moved constantly, scanning the hall with the vigilance of a man who had survived battlefields far removed from polished academies. He took in the instructors whispering behind raised sleeves. The nobles already recalculating value. The students whose wonder would soon turn to envy.
Power, once revealed, could never be unseen.
Lilian stepped forward, her movements quick and instinctive. She brushed Adrian's hair from his face, fingers trembling despite her efforts to appear composed. Her touch was cold.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Fear bled through her composure in quiet waves.
"We should take him to his quarters, Master Elaraus," she said, her voice sharp and precise. It sliced through the lingering shock like a blade. "He is only a child. That test was clearly more taxing than anticipated."
For a moment, Elaraus did not respond.
His gaze remained fixed on the conduit stone, eyes wide behind thin spectacles. He looked less like a master of magic and more like a scholar who had just watched a fundamental law of reality bend without explanation.
Then he blinked.
Once.
Twice.
"Yes. Of course," he said, snapping out of it with visible effort. He adjusted his charcoal robes and hurriedly retrieved his parchment, scribbling notes at a frantic pace. His quill scratched loudly in the silence. Ink smeared beneath his hurried strokes, but he did not pause to correct it.
"The Ashvale quarters are located in the West Wing," he continued, words tumbling over each other. "Within the sector reserved for legacy students. I shall assign a guide immediately."
He hesitated, glancing once more at the crystal.
"There will be much to discuss with the Headmaster regarding the unique nature of these results," he added more quietly. "I have never witnessed a resonance that affected the physical integrity of a conduit stone before. Not in all my years."
As they turned to leave, the hall seemed to exhale.
The crowd parted instinctively, like water flowing around a stone. Older students stepped aside, some with awe, others with barely concealed resentment. Whispers erupted behind them, low and urgent.
Adrian caught fragments as they passed.
Monster.
Anomaly.
Blessed.
Cursed.
Near one of the ivory pillars carved with ancient sigils, a boy stood apart from the others.
He was older, perhaps twelve, tall for his age. His robes were embroidered with silver thread that marked him as high nobility. His posture was impeccable, hands folded behind his back, chin slightly raised.
His hair was white.
Not pale blond or silver, but stark white, like fresh snowfall untouched by shadow. It caught the light strangely, almost reflecting it.
He was not impressed.
He was studying Adrian with unsettling intensity, as though trying to solve a puzzle that should not exist.
Their eyes met.
The sensation was immediate.
Cold washed over Adrian's skin, sharp and biting. Not fear. Not hostility. Something focused. Calculating.
Recognition.
Adrian looked away first.
His heart thudded harder.
He did not need to be told what that moment meant.
He had just gained his first rival.
The walk to the West Wing carried them away from the Great Hall and into the quieter heart of the academy. The corridors gradually gave way to open gardens bathed in soft bioluminescence. Grass glowed faintly beneath their feet, responding to the ambient mana that saturated the air. Plants shifted slowly as they passed, leaves turning, stems bending, as though the garden itself were aware of them.
Adrian allowed his parents to speak while he focused inward.
His mana churned uneasily.
The surge from the crystal had stretched his energy channels wide, leaving them raw and tender. It was an unfamiliar sensation in this life, yet painfully familiar in another. His thoughts drifted back to long nights spent practicing violin until his fingers cramped and his shoulders burned, until music became pain and pain became progress.
This felt the same.
Something within him had expanded.
A barrier that had constrained him since his rebirth had cracked, leaving him both stronger and exposed.
The Ashvale quarters were spacious, quiet, and steeped in history. The scent of lavender and aged parchment lingered in the air. Tapestries lined the walls, depicting the rise and fall of the academy across centuries, floating islands drifting through painted skies.
Moonlight spilled through tall windows, painting silver patterns across the stone floor.
William secured the door personally, sliding the iron bolt into place with a solid click. Only then did he turn to Adrian.
"That was no accident," he said.
His voice was calm, but there was iron beneath it.
"No child should possess that level of control. It was as if you were commanding the crystal rather than asking it to respond. I have watched seasoned mages fail to achieve that kind of tonal clarity."
Adrian sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands. They still shook slightly.
"I did not command it," he said softly. "I listened."
William frowned.
Lilian stilled.
"The stone was out of rhythm," Adrian continued. "Like a song played at the wrong tempo. I only adjusted it so it could end the way it was meant to."
Lilian pulled him into her arms.
"You have a gift," she whispered, voice trembling despite her effort to stay strong. "But gifts can become chains. There are those who collect talented children like weapons. Promise me you will be careful."
"I promise," Adrian said.
That night, while the academy slept, Adrian sat by the window.
The air still hummed faintly with residual mana. He held a small branch he had found earlier, its surface faintly glowing green. He hummed softly, a low resonant tone that vibrated in his chest.
Mana responded.
The wood softened beneath his fingers. Bark peeled away like dead skin. Grain shifted. Curved.
Slowly, patiently, a familiar shape emerged.
A violin scroll.
Creation, not destruction.
Far below, in the courtyard, ice shattered against stone. The white haired boy practiced alone, relentless and precise.
Adrian watched.
The performance had begun.
And the world was listening.