The air in the grand amphitheater was thick with the scent of ozone and old parchment. Kael sat between Leo and Silas, his fingers twitching rhythmically on the mahogany desk. It wasn't a conscious movement : his body was still trying to process the brutal rhythms of the morning training session with Grael. His shoulders felt like they were being pressed down by invisible weights, and the back of his neck burned with a fatigue so deep it felt structural.
At the front of the hall, Alaric sat surrounded by his inner circle. To his left was Cyrus, a boy who moved with a predatory grace. To his right was Jax, whose presence felt as heavy and immovable as the earth he commanded.
"Look at our local hero," Cyrus sneered, leaning back so his voice carried. "He looks like he's about to melt into the floor. Hey, Kael! Did the basement air rot your brain?"
Jax chuckled, a low, gravelly sound. "Maybe he's just practicing his special ability : being a complete void of space."
Professor Volkan stepped into the light of the podium, cutting through the laughter. He was a man of terrifying precision, with a silver monocle that seemed to magnify the intensity of his gaze. He began to weave a complex web of scarlet mana in the air, creating a map of the human nervous system.
"The synchronization of the core is not a suggestion," Volkan began. "It is the difference between a master and a corpse. If your internal pulse does not match the ambient flow, you are nothing but a broken instrument."
Kael tried to listen, but the "orchestra" Volkan spoke of sounded like a chaotic, screeching noise to his ears. Ever since Grael had spoken of the silence, the constant hum of mana in the Academy felt like static on a radio. His eyes fluttered, his chin dropping toward his chest.
"Mr. Kael!" Volkan's voice exploded right in front of him.
Kael snapped his head up, his vision blurry. Volkan was standing only a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest, his scarlet mana flaring with irritation.
"Tell me," Volkan hissed, "since you seem to find the foundations of our civilization so tedious : what is the primary resonance frequency for a Rank D fire conversion?"
Kael rubbed his eyes, the fatigue making him blunt for a moment. "I don't know, Professor. To be honest, I don't think this course is very useful for me. It feels like noise."
The room went deathly silent. Leo gripped the edge of the table, his face pale. Volkan's eyes narrowed, his monocle reflecting Kael's tired expression. A dangerous heat began to radiate from the professor. Realizing he had crossed a line that could cost him his place at the Academy, Kael took a breath and forced his pride down.
"I am sorry, Professor," Kael said, lowering his head. "I didn't mean to disrespect your teachings. I am simply... exhausted. I apologize for my words and my inattention."
Volkan stared at him for a long, agonizing minute. The scarlet mana around him flickered before slowly fading. "Your fatigue is no excuse for arrogance, Mr. Kael. Sit down. If I catch you nodding off again, you will be spending your evenings cleaning the alchemy labs."
Kael sat down in silence, nodding once. The rest of the lecture passed in a blur of diagrams and equations. He remained motionless, forcing himself to stare at the chalkboard until the final bell rang.
As Kael made his way toward the exit with Leo and Silas, he found the corridor blocked. Alaric, Cyrus, and Jax were waiting for him. Alaric's face was twisted in a mask of pure arrogance.
"You really think you're something, don't you?" Alaric spat, blocking the path. "Apologizing like a coward after acting tough. You're a disgrace to this wing."
"Move, Alaric," Kael said, his voice cold and flat.
"Wait! Stop it!" Mina Everlight appeared from a side hallway. She stepped between the two groups, her hands glowing with a faint light. "Alaric, leave him alone. And Kael, you are such an idiot! Do you have any idea what you almost did? You need the Academy to protect you!"
Kael reached out and placed his hand on Mina's shoulder. It was a firm, grounding touch. "Mina, it's okay. You don't need to defend me against them."
He stepped past her, closing the distance between him and Alaric. "You've spent your whole life being told you're a prince because of that spark in your chest, Alaric. But the truth is... you aren't as powerful as you think you are. You're just loud."
Alaric's control snapped. "You think your little muscles can beat my bloodline? I'll burn that look right off your face!"
He raised his hand, his eyes glowing with a harsh, orange light. A sphere of concentrated flame began to hiss in his palm. The heat warped the air. But as Alaric prepared to launch the spell, Kael's hand shot forward.
It was a movement born of Grael's drills, a reflex faster than any incantation. Kael's fingers clamped down on Alaric's wrist like a vice.
The roar of the fire didn't just stop : it was deleted. The orange glow vanished instantly, replaced by a terrifying stillness. Alaric's jaw dropped. He felt a wave of absolute coldness wash over him, an emptiness that seemed to drain the very breath from his lungs.
"What... what did you do?" Alaric whispered, his voice trembling. "My mana... I can't feel my mana!"
Kael looked at his own hand, then back at Alaric. He didn't understand it himself, but he felt the ripple Grael had mentioned. He let go, and Alaric stumbled back, clutching his arm as if it had been bitten.
Kael walked away without a word, leaving the "Elite" standing in a corridor that suddenly felt very, very cold.
The silence in the corridor lingered long after Alaric and his lackeys had retreated. Leo and Silas stood frozen, their eyes darting between Kael's calm face and his right hand, the one that had just extinguished a noble's fire. As they finally began to move again, the questions started pouring out like a broken dam.
"Kael, what was that?" Leo hissed, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. "I've never seen anything like it. His mana... it didn't just flicker; it died! How did you do that?"
"And what were you thinking in class?" Silas added, his tone more cautious but equally intense. "Apologizing was smart, but talking back to Volkan in the first place? And then provoking Alaric? You're lucky you aren't in the dungeons right now."
Kael kept walking, his steps heavy but steady. The truth was simpler and more terrifying than they imagined. "I don't know," he admitted, looking down at his palm. "I don't know how I did it. I just felt... a need for quiet. And Alaric was being too loud."
They reached the great dining hall for lunch, the room a sea of blue and gold uniforms. Kael wanted nothing more than to hide in a corner and rest his aching ribs, but the world wouldn't let him. As they sat down with their meager trays, a shadow fell over the table.
Mina Everlight stood there, her silver hair catching the light from the enchanted chandeliers. Her expression was a storm of frustration and hurt. Without waiting for an invitation, she sat across from Kael, ignoring the surprised looks from Leo and Silas.
"Why are you doing this, Kael?" she asked, her voice low but sharp. "Why are you pushing me away? Every time I try to help you, you treat me like an enemy. Why are you being so cold?"
Kael looked at her, seeing the genuine concern in her eyes. It made his chest tighten, a different kind of pain than the one Grael had inflicted. "You wouldn't understand, Mina," he said softly. "The world you live in... the way you see things... it's not the same for me anymore."
"That's not an answer!" she snapped, her fingers tightening around her tray.
Kael sighed, the weight of his exhaustion finally breaking through his armor. "I know. And for that, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so harsh with you. I'm just... I'm trying to find a way to survive here, and that way is lonely."
Mina's expression softened, but only slightly. She leaned forward, her gaze locking onto his. "If you really are sorry, then promise me something. Stop this madness. Stop the backtalk, stop the fights. You just got out of the infirmary, Kael. Your ribs are barely held together, and you're acting like you're invincible."
Kael didn't tell her about the two training sessions a day. He didn't tell her about the iron or the silence. He simply nodded, a small, tired gesture of peace. "I'll try, Mina. I promise."
She stayed for the rest of the meal, her presence a bridge between the boy Kael used to be and the stranger he was becoming. But as he felt the dull throb in his bones, Kael knew that 'behaving' was a luxury he could no longer afford.