Chapter 16
Morning light bled across the sky like gold drawn thin, and Sanctum Astrae's air shimmered with fresh tension. The pairing of mentors had shaken the entire student body. First-years were now tethered to second-years—a blessing or a burden, depending on the name attached.
For Astern, it was a quiet storm.
Nysera Vaelis, the Silver Veil of House Vaelis, had taken him on.
---
They met in the eastern wing, near the sealed training chambers reserved for elite sparring. Astern arrived early. Nysera, as always, was already waiting.
She still wore the veil. Still moved like mist and silence. But something about her aura today felt… thinner. Sharper.
"You'll spar with me," she said.
"I figured."
"No aura."
He frowned. "That again?"
"Always," she replied. "Control is everything. Especially when your power doesn't belong to just you."
Astern didn't respond. He drew the dull-blade from the rack and took his stance.
The duel began.
Nysera was faster.
She didn't strike to wound—but every move was surgical, designed to dismantle. To test, not hurt. Astern defended, countered, moved like flowing dusk. His movements were instinct now.
By the third clash, he managed to disarm her.
She didn't flinch.
"You learn fast," she said, retrieving her weapon.
"You don't hold back."
"I can't afford to."
They stood across from one another in silence, breath steadying.
Then, softer, she added, "When I was your age, I too bore a secret. One that could've drowned a kingdom."
Astern met her gaze through the veil.
"Did it?"
"No," she said. "But only because I learned to cut down anyone who came close to exposing it."
He didn't answer. He understood.
---
Elsewhere, Lunaria and Kaela trained under their own mentors.
Kaela's was a brawny lancer named Hyrek, a brash veteran who'd fought on the northern borders.
"Strike like you mean it!" he roared. "That blade's not a hairbrush!"
Kaela swung hard, sweat flying. "I am striking!"
"You're dancing! This is war!"
Kaela growled, leapt, and landed a hit so sharp the entire field rang.
Hyrek blinked. Then grinned.
"Now that's the flame I saw in the veil."
Meanwhile, Lunaria's mentor was Professor Elien—a mystic tactician who spoke in riddles and sipped tea mid-duel.
"Frost is patience, child. Not hesitation."
"I'm not hesitating."
"You're calculating. That's worse. Stop thinking. Freeze."
Lunaria exhaled slowly. The air around her turned brittle. The ground shimmered.
Then frost burst from beneath her, surrounding Elien.
He nodded once.
"Now you're dangerous."
---
Back in the academy's sealed vaults, Seraphon sat before the mirror of prophecies. It shimmered with threads of time—not futures, but tensions.
One thread burned with black and silver fire.
"Umbrenox blood awakens," he murmured.
Behind him, Kyte emerged from the shadows.
"You called?"
"I want the left hand summoned," Seraphon said.
Kyte's eyes widened. "You mean—?"
"Yes. We need the other sentinel. If the Ghoul King is truly stirring… then both guardians must rise."
---
And far beyond, across the void where stars bent to forgotten gravity, the Ghoul King stood upon a ruined throne of bone and ash.
He stared into a shard of cosmic glass—watching the boy.
"Soon," he rasped.
A ghoul lieutenant stepped forward. "My King?"
"Send the Echoers," the king said. "Let them test the edge of his soul."