The girl's violet eyes didn't blink.
She stood as if carved from shadow, the moonlight coiling around her like it dared not touch her skin.
Kael didn't speak.
His instincts screamed to run.
But a deeper pull — something ancient, buried in the blood — kept him still.
"Who are you?" he asked again, his voice calm, but sharpened by the tension crawling down his spine.
The girl tilted her head. "A failure. Like you."
He didn't flinch.
"Is that supposed to mean something to me?"
She smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "They called me Astra. Once. Before the Inquisition burned my name from the records."
A pause.
"Before they realized I survived."
Kael's breath stilled.
He'd heard stories. Whispers of students who'd gone too far. Tapped into forbidden wells of power. Many were expelled. Some… vanished.
None were ever named.
---
"You felt it, didn't you?" Astra stepped closer. "In the Ember Cave. The weight in your chest. The hunger behind your eyes."
Kael said nothing. But his hands were clenched now. A flicker of heat buzzed beneath his skin.
Astra's eyes narrowed, her voice softening.
"It doesn't go away. That feeling. Like something ancient is breathing through you."
Kael looked away. "So what? You want to form a secret club of cursed students?"
Astra's smile faltered.
"I want you to understand what's inside you. Because if you don't, someone else will… and they'll use it."
She reached into her cloak and pulled out a fragment of black stone — etched with runes so old Kael felt dizzy looking at them.
He instinctively took a step back.
"What is that?" he asked.
Her answer came like thunder wrapped in a whisper.
"A shard of the First Devourer."
---
Kael didn't sleep that night.
Not because of nightmares — but because his heart wouldn't stop pounding. Because the voice inside him had stirred again, louder now. Curious. Hungry.
He tried to study. To distract himself. But every page blurred.
By morning, his eyes were red, his posture stiff.
But something had changed.
He walked through the Academy halls differently now — not with pride, or fear. With a quiet awareness.
That someone knew. That he now knew.
Astra had given him questions, not answers.
But questions were sharper than blades.
---
Elsewhere…
In the Headmaster's office, a scroll lay unsealed on the desk.
A letter from the capital.
The seal of the Inquisition was pressed into the wax — and it pulsed faintly with residual energy.
Lioren read it silently, his face unmoving.
Then he folded it, turned, and set his jaw.
"I need to speak with Kael," he said.
But not as a professor.
As something… more.
---
In the Shadows…
A noble boy watched Kael from a distance — hiding behind a pillar near the outer training grounds.
His name was Rellen Avarciel, cousin to Theron, born to a side branch of a wealthy bloodline. His eyes were green, but narrow, and always watching.
He'd heard whispers about Kael. Strange ones. Dangerous ones.
He smiled to himself.
If Kael was truly different — then Rellen would make sure the right people knew.
Let the Devourer rise, he thought.
He'll choke on his own power soon enough.