The morning sun painted the sky in hues of gold as the students of the academy gathered at the grand gates, their excited chatter filling the air. Today was no ordinary day—it was the annual class trip to the Dragon Altar, a sacred relic of an era long past, when dragons still soared the skies.
Cedric adjusted the strap of his spear across his back, his sharp blue eyes scanning the crowd. Beside him, Aveline stood with her usual regal poise, her silver hair tied back in a practical braid.
"Try not to wander off," she said, though her tone lacked its usual bite.
Vivienne, ever the tease, sidled up to Cedric with a playful grin. "Oh, but where's the fun in that? I was hoping Cedric would get lost with me~"
Luna, towering over most of the students with her muscular frame, rolled her eyes. "If you two start flirting, I'm throwing both of you into the ravine."
Cedric smirked. "Noted."
The Hidden Plot
Deep in the forest, far from the prying eyes of the academy, Garrick Voss stood inside an old, dilapidated cabin. His fists clenched at his sides as he faced a hulking figure—Darius, a fourth-year combat specialist known for his brutal strength.
"You know why I called you here," Garrick hissed.
Darius cracked his knuckles, a sadistic grin stretching across his scarred face. "You want me to break that pretty-boy first-year?"
"Not just break him," Garrick spat. "Cripple him. Make sure he never holds a sword again."
Darius chuckled darkly. "For the right price, I'll snap his spine."
Garrick tossed him a heavy pouch of gold. "Make it look like an accident."
Darius weighed the pouch in his hand before nodding. "Consider it done."
The Dragon Altar
The students arrived at the Dragon Altar, an ancient structure carved into the side of a towering cliff. Massive stone pillars, weathered by time, surrounded a central platform where the remnants of a dragon's skeleton lay preserved—its skull alone the size of a carriage.
Instructor Zatch clapped his hands. "Listen up! This was once a place of communion between humans and dragons. Now, it's just a relic—but don't underestimate its history. Touch nothing, break nothing, and stay in groups."
As the students dispersed, Cedric and his group approached the altar.
Aveline ran her fingers along the skeletal remains, her expression unreadable. "To think these creatures once ruled the skies…"
Vivienne twirled a strand of her golden hair. "Shame they're gone. I'd have loved to ride one."
Luna snorted. "You'd probably try to seduce it."
Cedric ignored their banter, his gaze fixed on the dragon's skull. Something about it called to him—a whisper in the back of his mind.
Then, without warning, the ground beneath them trembled.
The Awakening
A low, resonant hum filled the air as the dragon's bones began to glow, veins of crimson light pulsing through the ancient remains.
The students gasped, stumbling back.
"What the hell?!" someone shouted.
Aveline's hand shot to her sword. "Cedric—!"
But Cedric couldn't move. His dark core and water core flared in response, his body locking up as an overwhelming presence pressed down on him.
And then—a voice echoed in his mind.
"…Fivefold…"
The glow faded as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving the altar silent once more.
The Trap is Set
Unnoticed by the others, Darius watched from the shadows, his lips curling into a cruel smile.
"Perfect."
Back to Cedric
Voices blurred together—Aveline's worry, Vivienne's gasp, Luna's curse, the panicked murmurs of students crowding around him. Then, strong arms lifted him.
"Move aside!" Instructor Elizabeth's commanding voice cut through the chaos. The tall, stern woman with raven-black hair tied in a tight bun scooped Cedric up effortlessly. "I'm taking him to the medic tent. Everyone else—stay with Instructor Zatch and continue the tour."
Aveline stepped forward. "I'm coming with—"
"No." Elizabeth's tone brooked no argument. "He'll be fine. This isn't your concern."
Aveline's jaw tightened, but she didn't push further.
The Medic's Tent
The scent of herbs and antiseptic filled the air as Elizabeth laid Cedric on a cot. The academy's physician, an elderly man with spectacles perched on his nose, checked Cedric's pulse and peeled back his eyelids.
"Hmm. No fever, no physical injuries…" He frowned. "His mana levels are fluctuating oddly, but otherwise, he's just unconscious."
Elizabeth crossed her arms. "Then why isn't he waking up?"
"Could be a mental strain," the physician mused. "Or a reaction to residual magic at the altar. Give him time."
Elizabeth exhaled sharply but nodded. "Fine. I'll stay with him."
The Mind Realm: A Dragon's Voice
Cedric opened his eyes—not to the medic tent, but to an endless white void.
"Where…?"
"Within yourself."
The voice was ancient, reverberating like distant thunder. Before him, a massive white dragon materialized, its scales gleaming like polished ivory, its eyes twin pools of liquid silver.
Cedric instinctively reached for his weapons—but they weren't there.
The dragon chuckled, the sound like wind through ancient ruins. "Fear not, child. I mean you no harm."
Cedric forced himself to stand straight. "Who are you?"
"I am Varethys, last of the Elder Dragons. Or rather… an echo of what I once was." The dragon lowered its head, studying Cedric with unsettling intelligence. "You are the first in centuries to hear my voice."
Cedric's mind raced. "Why me?"
Varethys's eyes glowed. "Because you carry the Fivefold Potential. And because the world is not yet done with dragons."
A pulse of energy surged through the void. Cedric gasped as his third core, previously dormant, flared to life—filling with a blinding white light, purer than the golden radiance of typical light magic.
"This gift is yours," Varethys murmured. "But it will slumber until the hour of true need. You cannot wield it yet… but it will awaken when destiny demands."
The dragon's form began to fade.
"Wait!" Cedric reached out. "What does this mean? What do you want from me?"
Varethys's final words echoed as the void dissolved:
"Remember, child… the dark cannot exist without the light."
Awakening
Cedric's eyes snapped open. He was back in the medic tent, his body drenched in sweat.
"About time." Elizabeth's voice was dry as she handed him a cup of water laced with an energy potion. "Drink."
Cedric obeyed, the bitter-sweet liquid soothing his parched throat.
Elizabeth studied him. "What happened?"
Cedric hesitated. The truth was impossible to explain—but outright denial would raise suspicion.
"I… heard something," he muttered, rubbing his temple. "A roar. Then I saw—I think I saw a dragon. Just for a second." He winced. "My head… it's still fuzzy."
Elizabeth's brow furrowed. "The others said the altar glowed before you collapsed. Some claimed the dragon's bones moved."
Cedric feigned confusion. "Did they? I don't remember that."
Elizabeth sighed. "Either way, you're fine now. But no more field trips for you today. Rest here until we return to the academy."
Cedric nodded, but his mind was elsewhere—on the white light now slumbering in his third core, and the dragon's cryptic warning.
Darius's Trap
Unseen by all, Darius observed from the shadows outside the tent, his massive arms crossed.
Garrick had paid him well for this job—but now, he had a better idea.
"A kid who makes dragon bones glow?" Darius smirked. "This'll be more fun than I thought."
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, black vial. Duskthorn extract—a poison that paralyzed its victims without killing them. Perfect for an "accident" during training.
"Tomorrow," Darius murmured. "When they think the danger's passed… that's when I'll break him."