The stone doors of the Ancient Chamber closed behind me with a deep, echoing thrum that vibrated through my bones.
For a moment, I just stood there.
The corridor outside felt… smaller somehow. Quieter. Like the world itself had taken a step back to look at me differently.
The assessment was over.
The Chamber—older than the Academy itself, older than most recorded kingdoms—had judged me. Not with words, not with praise or condemnation, but with silence. With weight. With the way the air had pressed against my skin as if measuring something unseen.
I exhaled slowly.
My hands were still shaking.
Not from fear.
From everything I'd survived.
The Dratonian Forest.
The Gaiadrake.
The symbol.
The gem.
The Inner World.
That faceless figure standing on calm white water.
You've finally reached the power to talk to me, boy.
I clenched my fist.
Nothing was normal anymore.
"Thinking too hard will get you killed someday, you know."
The voice came from my right.
I turned my head—and there he was.
Sir Zenite.
He leaned casually against one of the stone pillars, arms folded, armor pristine as ever. Same calm presence. Same eyes that looked like they could see straight through lies, excuses, and fear alike.
"Sir Zenite," I said instinctively, straightening despite the ache screaming through my body.
He waved a hand. "Relax. No need for formalities right now."
He pushed off the pillar and nodded down the corridor. "Walk with me."
I hesitated for half a second—then nodded and fell into step beside him.
We walked in silence at first.
The Academy halls stretched long and familiar, yet every step felt heavier than before. Students passed us, whispering when they recognized me. Some stared openly. Others looked away quickly, as if afraid.
Hero.
Monster.
Asset.
Threat.
I didn't know which one they saw.
Zenite spoke first.
"You've gotten strong."
I swallowed.
"But," he continued calmly, "you are still no match for an elite knight."
I didn't flinch.
I already knew.
"If that Gaiadrake hadn't been corrupted," Zenite went on, "if it had been in full control of its power… you would have died."
His words weren't cruel.
They were honest.
"I know," I said quietly.
Zenite glanced at me, surprised for a fraction of a second—then smiled faintly.
"Good. Don't lose sight of that."
We turned a corner, sunlight spilling through tall windows, bathing the stone floor in gold.
"You're only in your first year," he said. "What you faced in that forest was something most knights wouldn't encounter until much later in their lives—if ever."
My chest tightened.
Faces flashed through my mind.
Seraphyne, crying.
Varein bleeding but standing.
Aelira frozen to her limit.
Kai reckless and burning himself out.
Liraeth collapsing behind her shield.
Aldred still standing with a pierced arm.
"I didn't win," I said suddenly.
Zenite stopped walking.
So did I.
He turned fully toward me.
"You survived," he said. "You protected others. You identified the true threat and acted decisively."
His eyes sharpened.
"That is winning."
I looked down at my hands.
They didn't feel like the hands of a normal student anymore.
"Still," Zenite continued, "this path doesn't get easier from here. You've been noticed."
That word made my stomach sink.
"By people you don't want watching you," he added.
I thought of the symbol on the Gaiadrake's back.
The purple gem.
The way the corruption had reacted to my aura.
"…The cult," I murmured.
Zenite didn't deny it.
"Jaki cultists don't interfere lightly," he said. "If they've taken interest in you, it means one of two things."
He raised two fingers.
"You're either a potential threat."
One finger lowered.
"Or a potential treasure."
Both felt equally terrifying.
We resumed walking.
As we did, Zenite spoke again—this time softer.
"Don't let any of this make you forget how far you've come."
He gestured vaguely behind us, toward the Chamber, toward the forest, toward everything that had nearly killed me.
"Progress isn't measured by how strong you are compared to others. It's measured by how much stronger you are than the person you used to be."
I thought of the slums of Ignis.
Of hunger.
Of running.
Of weakness.
"I'm not done," I said quietly.
Zenite smiled.
"Good. Because you can't afford to be."
We stopped near an open balcony overlooking the Academy grounds. Students trained below, their laughter and shouts drifting upward on the breeze.
For a moment, it almost felt peaceful.
Zenite turned toward me fully.
"You'll face more struggles," he said. "More obstacles. You'll fail. You'll bleed. You'll lose things you care about."
His hand came down gently on my head.
A simple gesture.
Warm. Solid.
"Welcome home," he said.
My throat tightened.
"…Thank you," I managed.
He stepped back, armor clinking softly, and turned to leave.
"Oh," he added over his shoulder, "one more thing."
I looked up.
"I'm glad you made it out alive, Rain."
Then he was gone.
I stood there alone, sunlight washing over me, heart pounding—not with fear this time, but with something heavier.
Resolve.
Normal life was over.
The Academy wasn't just a school anymore.
The world wasn't just dangerous—it was watching.
And whatever I was becoming…
There was no turning back.
I clenched my fist.
I'll keep moving forward.
No matter what comes next.