The academy had settled into rhythm — mornings filled with lectures on Eye Theory and afternoons drowned in combat drills. Days slipped by like quiet ripples in a lake, yet Kael felt the current pulling faster beneath the calm.
Everywhere he turned, eyes glowed. Students awakened sparks of color and power during training — blue streaks, gold flashes, crimson lines — each claiming heritage and destiny. Kael, though, saw nothing in his reflection but shadow.
Still, he watched, studied, endured.
The whispers about him grew louder.
"The boy with no glow."
"Maybe he's just here by mistake."
He tried to ignore them — until Professor Ryven announced the Pairing Trials.
"Two weeks from now," the man said, his voice echoing through the hall. "Your compatibility will determine your future battles. Choose your partners wisely."
Laughter, excitement, dread — all swirled through the room. Kael felt something else: a faint tug, like a thread pulling him toward fate.
After class, he found himself on the rooftop again — the same place he'd stood that first morning. The sunset burned red across the horizon, bleeding into the clouds. The air was quiet… almost too quiet.
"Still staring at the sky?"
Vorath's voice broke the silence. He leaned against the rail, arms folded, the silver of his hair catching firelight. "You really think answers fall from there?"
Kael didn't turn. "No. But it helps me listen."
"Listen to what?"
Kael paused. "To the things that don't speak."
Vorath gave him a look — half mockery, half curiosity — then smirked. "You're strange, Ardyn. But maybe that's what'll save you."
As Vorath left, Kael's reflection shimmered faintly on the glass — not red, not gold… but a brief, pulsing crimson.
He blinked, and it was gone.
Far below, the academy bells tolled. The wind stirred. Somewhere unseen, a storm was beginning to breathe.