cross-legged on her bed, the room dim except for the soft glow of a single orb light hovering above her.
Nyra had crashed onto the couch like a dying star after insisting she was "too emotionally drained to watch more drama tonight," and Elric had disappeared back to his dorm after extracting a solemn promise from Aria not to get arrested by breakfast.
The classified folder sat before her.
It radiated a kind of quiet danger, as if the paper inside might bite.
Aria flexed her fingers, feeling the golden hum of her magic coil under her skin. She'd grown stronger — dangerously so. But it wasn't enough. Not yet.
Carefully, she opened the folder.
Inside were only a few sheets of aged, crisp parchment. No fancy bindings, no protective charms. Just black ink, dense and curling, in a hand far older than the academy itself.
The title at the top made her shiver:
> "Case Study: Sealbearer Incidents and Reality Alteration Phenomena"
She began reading.
The Sealbearers —
Ancient wielders of primal authority, chosen by forces older than kingdoms. Their power stemmed not just from magic but from the laws beneath magic — the architecture of reality itself.
In the early ages, there were seven.
Each marked with a Seal — a fragment of the world's raw design.
Each granted terrifying gifts.
But power breeds madness.
Several Sealbearers had fallen — twisting into forces of calamity rather than protectors.
Notable among them:
Vaelith the Hollowed:
Once a healer, she learned to rewrite mortal bodies. She created perfect soldiers — until she forgot they were once human.
Korven Duskblade:
A tactician who could bend probability. Every battle became a foregone conclusion — every city he touched, a grave.
Seren the Weaver:
Perhaps the most frightening. She could alter cause and effect — make a missed arrow strike true, make a forgotten curse suddenly awaken.
It was said she rewrote her own death multiple times... until the world itself rejected her.
Aria's breath caught.
These weren't just myths.
These were warnings.
Bending reality wasn't a miracle. It was a tightrope dance above an endless abyss.
She flipped to the last page.
It was handwritten — sloppier, faster. As if penned by someone in desperation.
"A Sealbearer has awakened at Magi Core Academy."
"Protocol requires immediate containment or mentorship."
"If not properly guided... probability suggests catastrophic destabilization within three years."
A second note was scrawled beneath it, almost like an afterthought:
"The last Sealbearer to attend the Academy... did not survive."
Aria sat back, heart pounding.
Not survive.
Not because they were killed.
Because the magic consumed them.
She looked down at her hands, feeling the golden shimmer just beneath her skin — the soft pulse of limitless potential.
A door had been opened, and she could never go back.
Her fate was either to master it...
Or to be erased by it.
A soft knock at the door startled her.
Nyra's sleepy voice followed. "You alive in there, world-breaker?"
Aria hastily closed the folder. "Barely."
Nyra shuffled inside, hair sticking up in odd angles. She peered blearily at Aria. "You know, if you start glowing ominously or chanting in dead languages, I'm calling campus security. And also probably running."
Aria chuckled despite the cold knot in her stomach. "Noted."
Nyra plopped beside her and stole the nearest pillow.
"You should get some sleep," she mumbled, already halfway back into dreamland.
Aria stared at the dark ceiling above her.
Sleep.
She doubted it would come easily tonight.
Outside the window, the academy slept on — spires gleaming under the moonlight, banners whispering secrets in the wind.
But somewhere beneath the stillness... the world was shifting.
And this time, it was shifting because of her.