The cool breeze carried a faint scent of the unknown, stirring something deep within Caelen's chest. He turned back toward the inner sanctum of the tower, his mind still wrapped around the cryptic words Velric had left him with. What exactly had he been chosen for? And what did Velric mean by factions within the Academy?
He found himself in a corridor dimly lit by flickering torchlight, the flames casting long, wavering shadows that seemed to dance like specters on the cold stone walls. His footsteps echoed with each step, but the silence that followed felt heavier than usual, more oppressive. It was as though the Academy itself was holding its breath, waiting.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the quiet, familiar yet unwelcome.
"Caelen, stop right there."
His body tensed. He recognized the voice—Lucian, one of the more ambitious students at the Academy. Lucian had never liked Caelen, and after the incident with the bridge test, Caelen knew that the rivalry had grown even more intense.
Caelen turned slowly to face him. Lucian was standing at the end of the corridor, his arms crossed and a smug grin on his face. The flickering torchlight caught the sharp edges of his features, making him appear more sinister than usual.
"What do you want, Lucian?" Caelen asked, trying to hide the unease in his voice. He could feel the ember's warmth growing stronger in his chest, as though it was reacting to Lucian's presence.
Lucian's grin widened. "You've been doing a lot of wandering lately, Caelen. I thought I'd check in on you. See how things are going." His eyes flickered briefly to the satchel at Caelen's side, where the ember pulsed faintly beneath the fabric. "I see you've found something… interesting."
Caelen's hand instinctively moved toward his satchel, his fingers brushing the edge of the ember. He had to be careful. Lucian wasn't just some petty rival; he had the connections and ambition to cause real trouble if he knew too much.
"What do you want?" Caelen repeated, his voice hardening. "I'm not in the mood for games."
Lucian chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving the satchel. "Games? Oh, I think you're mistaken. This is far more than a game, Caelen. I'm simply curious. You're carrying something, something important, and yet you keep it hidden. You think I don't notice? You think I don't know?"
Caelen's pulse quickened, but he refused to show fear. He had to play this carefully. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Lucian took a step forward, his tone lowering. "You may want to keep your secrets, but remember this—there are people in the Academy who know what you've found. And they won't let you walk away with it so easily."
The words hit like a blow. People in the Academy? Was Velric right? Was there a larger game at play here? Caelen's thoughts raced as the ember flared briefly within his satchel, as though reacting to the tension in the air.
"Stay away from me, Lucian," Caelen said, his voice ice-cold. "You don't know what you're dealing with."
Lucian smirked, clearly unconvinced. "Oh, I think I do. But you'll learn soon enough. We all will." He gave a mocking bow and turned to leave. "Enjoy your little game, Caelen. It won't last."
As Lucian's footsteps faded into the distance, Caelen felt a heavy weight settle in his stomach. What was Lucian hinting at? Who were these people in the Academy, and why did they want the ember so badly?
He clenched his fists, the ember's energy burning against him as if urging him to take action. But where could he go from here? The Academy was sprawling, ancient, and riddled with secrets he could hardly begin to comprehend. If there were factions at play, Caelen knew he couldn't trust anyone—not even Velric. But how could he navigate this web of intrigue and deceit alone?
Before he could answer his own question, the ground beneath him trembled. A deep, resonating hum filled the air, sending a shockwave through the stone walls. It was a feeling like the world itself was waking up—shifting, groaning, as though it were about to crack open.
Caelen's heart pounded in his chest. The hum grew louder, vibrating through the air like a living thing. Then, without warning, the torches along the corridor flickered and died, plunging everything into darkness.
This isn't just a feeling, Caelen realized, his pulse racing. This is real.
The ember flared in his satchel, its glow barely illuminating the immediate surroundings. Caelen's breath quickened, his mind spinning as he tried to make sense of what was happening. The hum intensified, and the walls seemed to tremble in response. He wasn't imagining it—something was happening.
A distant roar echoed through the corridors, a primal, guttural sound that vibrated in his very bones. It was followed by a series of loud crashes—furniture breaking, stone cracking, doors slamming open and shut as though being torn apart by some unseen force.
A scream—sharp, desperate—pierced the chaos.
Caelen's heart skipped a beat. It was coming from the direction of the Great Hall.
Without a second thought, he turned on his heel and sprinted toward the source of the noise. The floor beneath him vibrated with each step, the world around him trembling as if the very foundation of the Academy were about to collapse. The sound of panicked footsteps and frantic voices echoed through the corridors as other students rushed to the Great Hall, drawn by the same instinct to confront whatever was happening.
When Caelen reached the entrance, he nearly collided with several students who were backing away from the doors, fear in their eyes. He pushed through them, shoving the doors open just enough to peer inside.
What he saw made his blood run cold.
The entire hall was engulfed in a swirling mass of shadow and light, the very air crackling with energy. In the center of the chaos stood an enormous rift—its edges blackened and pulsing with an otherworldly energy. It was like looking into the heart of a storm, swirling with dark tendrils of power that seemed to draw everything toward it.
And at the center of it all was the source of the hum—the ember.
It floated, suspended in the air, surrounded by tendrils of dark energy. Its glow was brighter now, almost blinding, as though it had come alive.
A figure stood beneath it. Caelen's stomach dropped as he recognized the silhouette.
Lucian.
The air thickened as the figure raised their hand, a cruel smile spreading across their face. "So, it begins."