The wind howled through the shattered remnants of the ancient tower, its eerie wail carrying the scent of something foul—a mix of burnt stone and decay. Caelen stood at the edge of the high balcony, staring out into the vast, moonlit abyss. Beneath the sprawling night sky, the Academy's towers twisted upward like jagged teeth, casting long, threatening shadows over the land.
His fingers still tingled from the ember, its energy pulsing like a heartbeat against his chest. It had grown stronger in the past few days, more insistent, as though something was calling to it, guiding it—guiding him.
But what was it? What did it want?
His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice—Velric. The Master from Aetheron Academy had been strangely quiet since the bridge test, his usual smug air replaced by a guarded silence. Caelen had tried to engage him more than once, but the man had been elusive, focusing on his scrolls and mumbling to himself in languages Caelen couldn't understand.
"Caelen," Velric's voice broke through the night air. "You're not alone in this."
Caelen turned slowly, eyes narrowing as he scanned the figure that emerged from the darkness of the corridor. Velric stood there, his hands clasped behind his back, his expression unreadable.
"What do you mean?" Caelen asked, his voice laced with suspicion.
Velric stepped forward, his boots echoing against the stone floor. "You think this is all about the ember, don't you?" He sighed, the weight of something unspoken pressing down on him. "The ember is just the beginning. You were chosen for something far more… dangerous."
Caelen frowned, his heart skipping a beat. He had never trusted Velric completely, but now the cryptic words stirred something deep within him—something he wasn't sure he wanted to understand.
"Chosen for what?" Caelen demanded, his voice tightening.
Velric paused, studying him intently. "There's something hidden within the Academy, something old, something… ancient. It has remained dormant for centuries, but now… now it is stirring."
The hair on the back of Caelen's neck stood on end. "What do you mean, 'stirring'?" He took a step closer, his mind racing. "What's awakening?"
Velric's eyes flickered toward the distant towers. His lips tightened into a thin line. "That's what you need to find out. There are things within this Academy that not even the oldest of its scholars truly understand. But one thing is clear—whatever is awakening, it is tied to the ember."
Caelen's chest tightened, a knot forming in his stomach. The ember. It had to be more than just a powerful artifact—it was a key. But to what?
"What are you saying?" Caelen's voice was barely a whisper.
Velric took a deep breath, his expression hardening. "You need to keep your wits about you. Trust no one completely. Not even me. There are factions within the Academy, factions who will stop at nothing to harness the power you carry. You must be ready for what comes next."
Before Caelen could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, sharp and deliberate. Velric's eyes flicked toward the entrance, his face suddenly shifting into a mask of indifference.
"Go. Don't ask questions yet," Velric muttered, his voice barely audible. "Find the answers yourself. And when the time comes, make your choice."
Caelen stood frozen, a hundred questions swirling in his mind. But before he could voice a single one, Velric had already turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving him alone once again with the night.
⸻
The tension in the air thickened. Every shadow seemed to hold a secret. The weight of Velric's words echoed in Caelen's mind. There are factions within the Academy. That line alone sent a shiver down his spine. What had he truly stepped into?
Without thinking, Caelen moved toward the balcony's edge, his gaze scanning the darkened landscape below. The Academy had never seemed as ominous as it did now, its towers towering over him like the walls of a prison. But this was no ordinary prison. No, this was a place of power, and Caelen was beginning to suspect that the power inside it was far darker than he had been led to believe.
The ember in his satchel pulsed once more, its warmth radiating through his chest. He could feel it, calling. But what was it urging him to do?
Just as he turned to head back inside, a flicker of motion caught his eye from one of the towers. A silhouette, dark and sleek against the glowing moonlight, moved silently across the tower's edge, vanishing into the shadow of a distant spire.
Caelen's heart skipped a beat. Who was that? Another student? A member of one of the factions Velric had warned him about?
He didn't know, but the urgency building in his chest told him that answers were close. The ember was more than a symbol. It was a key. But to what?