The academy was alive again.
Banners fluttered above the main courtyard, laughter echoing through the marble arches as students compared scores and exaggerated near-death stories from the assessment. Magic shimmered in the air — sparks, light runes, harmless illusions cast for fun.
To everyone else, it was a day of celebration. For Kael, it was just noise.
He stood at the edge of the courtyard, a medal of achievement hanging loosely around his neck, its silver surface reflecting the same symbol engraved on his armband — a stylized lightning arc. Elara was a few steps away, animatedly talking with Ryn and a few other students, her hands moving as she retold their encounters with illusions, tagging challenges, and mirror mazes. Every time she laughed, the light around her seemed to brighten.
Kael almost smiled. Almost.
He forced himself to focus on the chatter, the easy rhythm of normal life — but the voices from the Raven Division wouldn't leave his head.
"Stormblood isn't just a name."
"You carry thunder that remembers."
"The bloodline that the world forgot."
He clenched his jaw, the words replaying like static. For years, he'd dismissed "Stormblood" as a nickname — something whispered by fellow assassins after seeing his lightning tear through steel. He never thought it meant anything. His master never mentioned family, and Kael never asked.
But the Ravens had spoken with certainty — and that certainty had lodged itself in his chest like a blade.
And some of the instructors… they're watching. Not all. But some remember the Syndicate, the Raven Division. They're observing us.
"Kael!"
Elara's voice snapped him back. She jogged toward him, her braid swaying and her expression bright. "You look like you're plotting world domination again. Come on, the instructors are calling for the closing ceremony."
He blinked, pushing away his thoughts. "World domination requires too much paperwork."
She grinned. "Spoken like someone who's considered it."
They joined the crowd gathering at the central platform where Head Instructor Veyne — Elara's father's trusted associate — stood. The man's voice boomed magically across the courtyard.
"Students of the Guild Academy! This year's assessment proved exceptional. You've faced illusions, traps, and challenges designed to test your skill and teamwork."
Kael's attention sharpened. Challenges… nothing about the Syndicate. They have no idea. Good.
Beside him, Elara clapped, whispering comments to Ryn about the "terrible dorm food reward" they'd probably get instead of gold. Kael almost laughed — almost.
Head Instructor Veyne continued, "The highest tag count this year goes to Elara Veyne and Kael —" He paused, glancing at the record crystal. "…Kael of no registered house."
A murmur rippled through the students.
No house. No lineage. No origin.
Elara smiled, bumping his arm proudly as applause filled the courtyard. "See? All your brooding and lightning theatrics paid off."
Kael inclined his head slightly. "Apparently."
But inside, the storm was beginning again. No registered house… yet the Ravens called it a bloodline.
The Closing Ceremony
As the crowd dispersed, Kael noticed subtle glances — instructors lingering at the edges of the courtyard, faces neutral but eyes sharp, calculating. Not all, but a few, unmistakably attentive. He caught a flicker of recognition in one man's gaze, a silver cloak that seemed to absorb the sunlight rather than reflect it.
Watching… waiting…
Kael's hand twitched slightly. Good. Let them watch. Just don't interfere.
Elara noticed him scanning the crowd. "You're paranoid again," she said lightly, nudging his arm. "Relax. You survived, we survived. Aren't you proud of the tag count?"
"I'm cautious," Kael corrected.
She laughed, shaking her head. "Of course. Assassins never relax, even when you've crushed everyone else."
Ryn waved from across the courtyard, grinning. "Hey! Don't brood too much! Celebrate a little. You two outtagged everyone, again!"
Elara elbowed Kael playfully. "See? Even your friends are teasing you. You're not subtle, you're dramatic."
Kael's lips twitched faintly. "Efficiency over subtlety."
She rolled her eyes. "Sure. Totally optional, but still… I'm grateful your dramatic mess is on my side."
Kael allowed a rare, brief smile.
The Headmaster's Summons
Just then, the magical gong at the center of the courtyard rang sharply. A hush fell over the students as Headmaster Althoran appeared on the raised platform, his silver robes catching the last rays of sunset. His eyes, normally calm and unreadable, scanned the crowd with an intensity that made several students straighten instinctively.
"Kael. Elara," he called, his voice carrying across the courtyard. "Step forward."
The crowd parted as the two of them walked toward the platform. A subtle murmur ran through the onlookers — curiosity, admiration, a little envy.
Kael exchanged a glance with Elara. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows raised.
"What is it?" she whispered.
"Unknown," Kael said quietly. "But we'll find out soon enough."
As they reached the headmaster, he gestured to a small, silver pedestal. A scroll sat atop it, unrolled slightly, catching the light.
"Your performance was… exceptional," Althoran began. "But there are matters that require discretion. Not all here are aware of the full scope of what you faced during this assessment. Your talents, your decisions, and your teamwork have drawn attention — attention that extends beyond this academy."
Kael felt a faint surge of electricity in his chest, a ripple of both anticipation and unease. Beyond the academy… the Syndicate? The Ravens?
Althoran's gaze flicked briefly to the edge of the courtyard, where a few instructors lingered. One in silver, one in dark violet. Their expressions were polite but unreadable.
"Some of your mentors may not fully understand the threats you encountered," the headmaster continued, his tone calm but firm. "It is not your role to question them, but to heed the instructions contained herein."
He tapped the scroll with a gloved finger.
"Kael… Elara… you are to review this in private. Its contents will determine the next phase of your… preparation."
Kael's jaw tightened slightly. He nodded, his mind already spinning with possibilities. Private review. Secrets. More layers… this is only the beginning.
Elara tilted her head, half-smiling, half-serious. "Preparation? Sounds ominous. Like I'm about to get kidnapped."
"Or you'll survive," Kael muttered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Althoran inclined his head slightly. "Do not underestimate what lies ahead. And remember — not everything, or everyone, is as it seems."
The headmaster gestured toward a private chamber beside the main hall. The door shimmered with protective wards. "Inside. You will find what you need to understand — and perhaps what you do not yet wish to know."
Kael and Elara exchanged a glance, both alert, both cautious.
As they stepped toward the chamber, Kael's mind drifted again to the Ravens' words, to the Stormblood name, and to the instructors quietly watching from the shadows.
Every step forward uncovers more questions. Every shadow hides a threat. And yet… I must protect her.
The magical wards closed silently behind them, the courtyard now a distant glow of evening light, laughter, and celebration.
Somewhere beyond the academy walls, the storm was waiting. And Kael knew — in the quiet hum beneath his skin, in the crackle of lightning along his fingertips — that the real trials were only just beginning.