The sun filtered weakly through the high windows of the training chamber, casting dusty beams over the polished floor. A soft hum filled the air, the room reinforced by woven Vyre threads to endure the power of student duels. Gray stood quietly at the edge of the sparring ring, his arms at his sides. Across from him, a taller student rolled his shoulders and stepped forward, wearing a confident grin.
He was Rank 6, a broad-shouldered boy with cropped dark hair and heavy gauntlets, his name long forgotten by the others except for a few instructors. A no-name on paper, but deadly in the ring.
"You sure you want this?" the boy asked, his tone more mocking than concerned.
Gray nodded once. "Begin."
The bell chimed. The Rank 6 charged forward, fists cloaked in flickers of elemental Vyre. His movements were practiced, precise. A jab aimed at Gray's head followed by a low kick meant to break his stance. Gray ducked, sidestepped, and swept the boy's leg with sharp speed.
The boy staggered. Gray didn't press the advantage. He waited.
Again, the Rank 6 came at him, this time shaping a wave of force into his punch. Gray raised his arm, absorbing the blow but wincing as the power rippled through him.
His opponent backed up and laughed. "No Affinity, no Trait, and yet you're still standing. Must be nice having the Director's favor."
Gray didn't respond.
He inhaled.
Just a little.
He let the familiar weight bloom inside him. Something deeper than breath. Something warm and slow and waiting.
Vyre.
It surged quietly beneath his skin, a subtle corrosion that licked at his core. It was potent, too potent for his current strength. But he only needed a moment.
He imbued his body with it and with newfound power stepped forward, faster than before, movements tighter and harder to track. The Rank 6 barely raised his guard before Gray's fist met his shoulder, and the Vyre laced into the strike with a faint gray mist. The boy flinched as a part of his armor cracked and dulled.
"Wha—"
Gray swept his legs again and then struck the gauntlet. The mist spread further, rendering it brittle.
The Rank 6 stumbled back, clutching his arm. "You! What kind of speed is that?"
Gray didn't answer. His head throbbed. His limbs felt heavier, like the weight of his own body had turned against him.
'Did I over do it?' It had been several weeks but he still was getting used to Vyre.
Vyre gave him a brutal edge, but it drained him. His breath came faster now.
With one last clash he backed away, showing no signs of tiredness.
The instructor raised his hand. "Winner: Gray."
The room was silent for a moment.
Then whispers began.
"He doesn't even have an Affinity yet."
"Or a passive trait!"
" His movements were off too! Did you see how he moved!"
"Yeah it was... monster-like..."
"Cheater. Definitely cheating."
Gray ignored them. He stepped off the platform, sat on a bench, and pressed his palms together until they stopped shaking.
The instructor walked past and paused. "You are exceeding expectations, but I suggest restraint. Not all power shown is power gained."
Gray gave a slight nod. "Understood."
Some time passed.
Later, in the stillness of the botanical garden, Gray stood alone. The arena had been silent. But here, the wind moved. The leaves rustled. The garden, built at the edge of the academy, was a private place often used by higher ranks to meditate or practice quietly. Tall glass panels framed the space, sunlight warming patches of moss and hanging flowers.
Gray raised his hand. Vyre gathered there, silver-blue at first. Normal. Usable. It flickered like a small blue light before dying down.
The flowers had reacted positively, Vyre seemed to increase growth speed.
He closed his eyes and called jt again.
This time, it was Wither Vyre.
The shift was instant. The energy flooded out from his core, colder and denser than the usual flow. The flowers nearby curled slightly inward. The grass dulled at his feet. His veins didn't burn. They withered. He could feel it, like they were drying from the inside out.
They had reacted negatively this time.
He shaped the Vyre into his palm. It shimmered gray, swirling with decay and force. A shard formed, sharp and vibrating, but the moment he let it go, the shard faded into dust. He panted, falling to one knee.
"Too much," he muttered. "Too fast."
He sat back and looked at his hands. They were trembling. Not out of fear, but exhaustion.
"It's strong," he whispered. "But it'll kill me if I keep relying on it."
Normal Vyre was still viable. Still safe. The other one… he'd need time. Control. A better core. Or he'd burn out. Or rot.
He stood slowly and took one last look at the silvered dome above. The sun filtered down like a blessing. He would keep this secret, and for now, hold back.
His moment ended as a chime echoed through the garden. A voice followed, crisp and unshaken.
"All students, please gather in the Great Hall. A public address will begin shortly."
Gray frowned. That was rare.
Within minutes, the Great Hall was full. Students stood in rows, grouped by rank and progression. Gray stayed near the back with Renn, who looked more confused than usual.
"You think it's about the rankings?" Renn asked.
"Maybe," Gray replied. "Or something worse."
The tall stage was lit by a single glowgem. At its center stood the Director. He stood cloaked in ceremonial blue, his face calm but unreadable.
"Students of Nyxterra Academy," he began, "You are gathered today not to celebrate, but to understand the world you will face. You are not children. You are Survivors in training. Fighters. Bearers of the divine forces. And most of all, shields for the last remnants of order."
His voice echoed.
"We bring news. In one week from now. You will all begins you first expedition to rhe mountaintop of Glacierfang."
Everyone's heart sanked. Some clung their heads whilst others bit their nails.
But everyone in the hall held one emotion close to their hearts.
Fear.
Murmurs spread through the crowd.
Gray spotted the young, cloaked boy. Aurelle in the distance. He wore an unreadable poker face. No one knew what he was thinking.
"This is not a call to arms, but a reminder," she said. "Your growth here is not for status. Not for glory. It is for the time to come."
He paused."I suggest you prepare. The following times to comw will not be easy if you arent hard on yourself."
Silence.
With that, he then stepped back. The lights dimmed.
Students began to shift and murmur, filtering out of the room slowly. Renn turned to Gray. "Something's wrong."
"I know," Gray replied. His mind wasn't on the announcement. It was on the feeling growing in his chest. A pressure. A voice that hadn't spoken, but was waiting to.
The tattoo he had on his chest faintly pulsed, like a second heart beat.
He looked up at the moonlight spilling in through the arched windows. The fractured star from the book still lingered in his mind.
Four of the Seven Origins had disappeared.
But where did they go? When humanity needed them the most.
And now they were being sent on a death mission.
"How long is this going to continue?" He spoke to himself.
Was he really going to live like this? Like a slave? For the rest of his life?
He slowly shook his head before lying down. His thoughts calmed down.
The chill in the air strangely familiar.
And somewhere, deep beneath the foundations of the academy, something else stirred.