The silent signal of change is never loud—it echoes in still minds.
In the outer courtyard of the academy, the wind was gentle, but every movement in the air carried a kind of silence that made the skin crawl. It was known as the Third Wind, a phenomenon only active once every thirty years. It brushed across young initiates in training—not harming them, but altering the tuning of their veins ever so slightly.
For most, it was a subtle event, barely noticeable.
But for Nocth, it was something else.
He was sitting alone beneath an old bronze arch tree—its leaves twisted into strange runes by centuries of wind exposure. His eyes half closed, his hands wrapped around his knees.
Then, for a moment, the world dimmed—not darker, but quieter.
And the Third Wind, usually gentle, stopped entirely around him.
It did not touch him. It bent around him.
A faculty observer watching from a distance leaned forward in confusion.
Nocth exhaled slowly. And for the first time in weeks, one of his veins—one that had been dormant since childhood—split into two.
A new vein was born.
Meanwhile — In the Instructors' Dome
Master Yezhlun, a quiet middle instructor from House Tzavel, examined recent updates.
"Student Nocth... Vein fluctuation detected during Third Wind? No external energy absorption. Passive resistance. Dimensional warping...?"
He scrawled a silent note:
"—Possible Dream-tier resistance or Void-adapted vein strain. Monitor quietly. Do not provoke."
Elsewhere — Lady Vaelserine
Within her estate near the edge of Selun'Thael's central flower lake, Lady Vaelserine sat on her floating chair, eyes narrowed, head tilted. A moment ago, she'd felt something—just a faint ripple near the campus gardens.
Her Auracrown, always spinning behind her like a subtle halo, pulsed once in light.
> "He exists... just like the vision."
---
Back to Nocth
Nocth opened his eyes. And something watched him back from within his own blood.
Not words. Not memory.
Just a question—felt, not spoken:
"Do you wish to remain soundless?"
He blinked. A part of him wanted to shout, rage, tear the world apart.
But he said nothing. He only exhaled.
And one of the petals from the bronze tree landed on his shoulder—then turned to black crystal.