The wards hummed like caged thunder—low, constant, alive.
The mana lamp flicked once, a heartbeat of white glare across the steel table. Kael's shadow lunged ahead of him—already waiting, already trapped.
He sat still as stone, the silence pressing in until the room felt smaller than his ribs. No one had asked whether he wanted Lilian as his mentor. They had spoken around him, weighing decisions the way stewards discussed livestock—what to assign, who to charge, when to move him. It was a rhythm he knew. The same quiet condescension that had followed him through the orphanage.
The orphan inside him—the one that still reached for acceptance—begs for kindness now. He begs to be seen. He fails now. He stores the hurt now.
He opened his palm. No tremor. The ache they'd planted was still there, but now it had edges. Useful edges.
He would play the role they expected, nod when spoken to, bend when watched—until the day came when he no longer had to. My time will come.
The Compendium pulsed beneath his sternum—cool, unblinking. Its runes bled soft light across his vision, comforting in their precision.
A voice pressed into his thoughts—soundless, mathematical.
[Emotional instability detected. Efficiency reduced. Directive: Assimilate.]
He froze. The command didn't echo; it entered. Something deep within him obeyed. He let the surface Kael—fragile, yearning, human—fade. He surrendered it.
Images flared—hunger, shame, rejection—and the Compendium drank them all.
[Input accepted.]
It stripped him bare, swallowing every brittle memory that could make him hesitate. The nights without food. The laughter from the strong. The word asset spoken like a verdict. Each fragment taken left behind a clean, cold hollow.
Stillness followed—lucid, predatory. He felt lighter. Sharper. Dangerous.
[Energy conversion complete. Forty Compendium Points gained.]
Kael blinked. "Points?" His voice came out steady, flat. "For what?"
[Compendium Points: quantized energy derived from assimilated data for host understanding. Usable for host-assigned tasks. Cost varies by complexity.]
He focused inward. The Compendium's archive stretched open, a vast, ordered silence. He wasn't remembering. He was retrieving.
He exhaled slowly. "Run a scan," he murmured. "How did you gain energy before my awakening?"
[Query initiated.] – Cost: 1 CP.[Result: Any new knowledge absorbed by the Compendium generates energy for host use. All memories since awakening are automatically logged, generating passive energy. One external energy source—memory stone—previously consumed.]
Kael's pulse steadied. "So, every observation is fuel," he muttered. "Every lesson, every secret."
He tried another. "Run a second query. Why did the memory stone consume so much energy compared to standard recall?"
[Query initiated.] – Cost: 2 CP.[Result: Energy was expended optimizing stored data—integrating memory fragments into functional understanding, not simple replay.][Query complete.]
Memory is free. Insight has a price.
He understood now. Knowledge indeed is my aspect's main goal. I have to make sure no one knows about the internal mechanics of my aspect.
Is this another cage Kellan wants to put me in? I need more information before I make any judgement.
Kael's voice broke the silence. "Why?" Both Kellan and Lilian turned.
"Why are you so afraid of anyone knowing?" His tone was even, almost clinical. "Half the Academy saw me awaken my Aspect. What difference does secrecy make?"
Kellan's gaze hardened. "Because you don't know what it means."
Kael leaned forward, the faint pulse of the Compendium flickering behind his eyes. "Then tell me. Is this about control? Because it feels like one."
Lilian's mouth twitched—amusement, quickly hidden.
Kael: "A state matter? I haven't sworn... You don't own me." Kellan stepped closer, badge glinting. "No one signs to be born dangerous." Kael's jaw tightened. "Then tell me how I am dangerous." "What awakened in you isn't just rare—it's knowledge made flesh.
The Crown built entire academies to study power like yours, not wield it. Do you understand what that implies?"
Kael met his stare without flinching. "And why should I bear that burden? The kingdom gave me enough to survive, not enough to serve." He paused. "There were witnesses—students, a proctor. Are they bound to silence too? Because a secret only stays safe when everyone who knows it is dead."
Kellan's composure faltered for a moment. "I'm doing this to protect you—as much as the kingdom."
Kael's lips twitched. "Another leash disguised as mercy."
Kellan drew in a breath. "No one will force you. But understand this—this is for survival. The students saw an awakening, not the truth of your Aspect. The proctor will be bound by contract. In return, your discoveries will earn resources: elixirs, relics, access. The system is fair."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Fairness is an illusion. Efficiency is measurable."
Kellan pressed on. "If rumor spreads that a newly awakened orphan carries an Aspect tied to the law of knowledge itself—capable of analysing, optimizing, and integrating the very laws of magic—then it won't be curiosity that finds you."
Kael's voice dropped, analytical and calm. "How did you make such an assessment about my Aspect? Why assume it understands the fundamentals of magic?" A flicker of suspicion crossed my mind. Was I careless? Did I reveal something? Or does he know more than I do?
Kellan froze mid-step. He'd said too much. Still, he tried to recover, straightening his posture. "Why do you think I was selected for your case? My Aspect is linked to Divination. I can glimpse the essence of another's Aspect, if I focus long enough."
The Compendium whispered in Kael's mind. [Information relevance: critical. Logging… complete.] Kellan is about to reveal something more valuable. Wait.
"I'm not your enemy, Kael, I just want to help you. If you serve the kingdom, we will guide you to all the knowledge we have. Nothing is free, but the most important thing is that we are not alone."
Kellan began pacing, agitation bleeding into every measured step. "There are multiple sentient races present on this world, and they are far more powerful than us humans. We have Elves, Dwarves, the Asura, and many more. They are much stronger than any human nation or territory."
Kael's mind jolted. The Compendium stabilized his vitals. Elves? Dwarves? Asura? None of these names exist in human texts.
[Query initiated: Analyze the memories of the host and see if there is any information about this in host memory.] – Cost: 5 CP.
[Query complete. Result: Zero entries detected. Insufficient data in host memory for analysis.]
Kellan snorted. "They are not afraid, Kael; they are indifferent to us. We don't matter in the grand scheme of things. They possess cultivation techniques so efficient they progress at speeds we can't fathom."
[Query initiated: Cross-reference—external sentients against known Academy archives.] – Cost: 3 CP.
[Query complete. Result: Information redacted. Probability of historical suppression—extreme.]
Lilian interjected. "Kael, all our Biomancy research and development traces back to an Elven Biomancer—because he was bored and saw inefficiencies in our race. He performed experiments on human bodies to see how far he could push them. He left a thousand years ago. We've been reverse-engineering his leftovers."
Kael tilted his head. "Have they reached the pinnacle of their Biomancy research, so that he was starting the experiment on humans?"
Lilian scoffed: "Their bodies don't need correction. They are born with the harmony of magic and body."
She elaborated, a flicker of pride in her eyes. "The elves are born with innate magical talent; they can perform feats of magic we can only dream of. Dwarves are master artisans and artificers; their inventions and techniques are legendary. Ausura are masters of body and soul with nothing to compare for."
Kael asked, dumbfounded, "Does humanity lack so much that we possess nothing special?"
"We do, Kael," Lilian countered, her voice firm. "We are born without anything, thus we are not limited by anything. A human can master any talent they can think of."
"So has no human ever achieved anything exemplary that we can have sovereignty?" Kael pressed.
"Of course we did," Kellan said, stepping back into the discussion. "There were many special humans in our history, but they always leave and left us for greater pastures. We still have powerful humans protecting us so we can carve our own piece in this world, but it's not enough. If they want, they can crush us; the only thing stopping them is that our kingdom lacks anything they truly desire, and we are not strong enough to threaten their place in this world. Also, mass slaughter is prohibited by the Primordial itself."
"The Primordial, Kael, is one of the reason that humans have survived so far in this world."
"Not the reason," Kael countered. "If humanity was meant to be kept ignorant, why build systems that let us touch magic at all?"
Kellan's hands curled into fists. "Because what we think of magic is nothing compared to what they can achieve. Any semblance of advancement we are able to achieve is crippled because of our limited understanding. But if you are able to help humanity advance further, we might be able to carve a true peaceful utopia for ourselves."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "So we're livestock."This is worse than I imagined. I thought the beasts were the enemy. Now there are civilizations more advanced than us—I need to be much smarter about it.
"Yes," Kellan said flatly. "Livestock that sometimes thinks itself free."
He stepped closer, his voice lowering. "If they discover that a human can comprehend magic the way they do—can understand the laws behind it instead of parroting rituals—they won't destroy us out of fear. They'll take you. Dissect you. Strip you apart until they learn how you work. And they'll erase everyone who ever touched your life to keep their monopoly intact."
Kael held his stare. "I get all that but isn't this another leash you will bind me with. Why should I be thrust in a war I have no stakes in and why would it matter if you can't help me anyway."
Lilian's head snapped toward him. "Kael—"
He didn't back down. "You're asking me to hide what I am because the world refuses to change. But if what you're saying is true, someone will have to break that pattern eventually."
Kellan's mouth twisted into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Humanity has tried before. Every time, the ones who dared to climb were taken away and we still have no idea where."
Why are we sacrificing so many to the beast on our borders? I need to inquire more about the beasts.
"The history we're taught says our borders are besieged by beasts," Kael said. "That they're what keep us trapped. Why lie about what's actually out there?"
Kellan's expression darkened. "Because the beasts are there—but they're sent there. Routed to us. The other races use them to keep our numbers in check. A convenient culling, masked as nature's cruelty. We call it defence, but it's maintenance."
Kael's stomach turned. "Population control."
Lilian sighed softly. "The elves' forms were designed for mana flow. Every elf is born with harmony humanity spends decades faking through surgery and spell craft."
Kael's eyes flashed. "If they're so perfect, why allow us to live at all?"
Kellan gave a bitter half-smile. "Because the Primordials keep the balance. They are equilibrium made manifest. They won't let any race die as long as they remain—but if humanity grows beyond its allotted measure, they will cull us to preserve that balance."
Kael looked down at his hands, feeling the faint tremor in them. Knowledge was no longer illumination. It was leverage.
The wardlight dimmed to a pulse, soft and uneven.
Lilian stood at the control dais, sleeve crystals flickering as she adjusted the infusion valves. "Sit," she said, voice professional but not unkind. "Your procedure needs to start before your Academy year truly begins. Otherwise, your malnourished form will affect your progress."
Kael was hesitant now. Does he truly want to undergo a procedure he knows is cobbled together with inefficiencies?
Lilian saw the hesitation on his face. "Do not worry, Kael. I know that with the knowledge you possess, this procedure feels like it will do more harm than good. But trust me, the state of your body would require one full year of direct mana infusion to correct these defects organically."
So, mana infusion is an option too, but as I don't know anything, Compendium cannot help me.
"Don't worry, the beauty of Biomancy is the flesh is moldable. You can change and revert anything done to yourself as long as you are willing to bear the pain, and I am willing to teach you. Then you can perform this yourself."
Kael asked, "Why not wait until I can get more knowledge and information? Maybe the Compendium will help us both, as I haven't even seen the full memory sequence of the treatment."
Lilian answered, her face open. "Kael, I know after all the information you are afraid, but this is the best option we currently have."
Kael could feel the honesty radiating from Lilian.
"Are you sure the procedure will not harm me permanently?" Kael asked. "If yes, then I am willing to go forward."
Kellan interjected sharply. "If you want to compete in the upcoming dungeon excursion happening in a month for the first-year batch, then you need this procedure, or you will die before you even start."
"The thing is, I don't want to owe the kingdom this debt because—"
Kellan stopped him. "After your procedure, we will tell you what the kingdom expects of you and what services you can perform. But let's start the process now; we don't want you to disappear for too long from the students' view, otherwise, this will raise questions."
Lilian, however, stepped in front of Kellan, addressing Kael directly. Her voice dropped, a quiet, conspiratorial pitch.
"Kellan is focused on kingdom survival. I'm a Biomancer. I know this stabilization procedure is crude. I know you are not currently satisfied with this procedure but trust me I will not lead you awry and trust my experience I have done this many time and if you feel like this is still not good enough for you then I will revert the procedure myself but mana infusion will remove most deficiencies if you can truly master the art. But your body need adjustment before you can start the infusion process otherwise you will fail at that too
She leaned in. "My services are very costly Kael and if you can master my art, you will never need for money in this kingdom"
This spiked interest in Kael and he knew that even if the procedure is harmful if he has enough knowledge he can and will be able to perform the corrections himself.
He nodded once. "That is acceptable—on one condition."
"Name it."
"You don't treat me like a patient." His gaze sharpened. "You treat me like a peer—one learning how to perfect a flawed design."
Lilian smiled faintly, the scientist in her recognizing the genius in his demand. "Then learn fast, Kael. Flesh isn't as forgiving as theory."
She held his gaze, her voice dropping lower still. "And here is the true lesson: If you help me advance this art, Kael—if you push my knowledge further—I will choose you over the Crown every single time."
She could be a powerful ally, and I need those if I am to survive what is to come.
He met her eyes, acknowledging the true bargain. "Understood, Teacher."