The early morning haze rolled over the sparring fields of Aetherreach Academy, dew glistening like shards of silver on the grass. Today's focus was sparring practice — real combat simulations using elemental Sigils under supervision.
Lucian stood on the outer edge of the dueling ring, adjusting the wraps around his wrists. His cloak was off for the first time during training, revealing the faint shimmer of his wing-like tattoos, though he still hadn't activated them again.
A voice called out across the field.
"Zevrik. You're up."
Lucian stepped into the ring, only to find himself face-to-face with one of the top-ranked students — Seris Vaeloria.
Seris stood tall, her silver-blond hair braided into a tight crown that framed her face. Her eyes were pale blue, nearly colorless, with a sharp, glassy edge that made them feel colder than ice. She wore the academy's training uniform with a silver sash — a mark of elite placement — and the frost-shaped sigil on her cheek glimmered as she smirked.
"I asked for this duel," she said calmly, frost already collecting at her fingertips. "Let's see what the boy with three Sigils can do."
Lucian's jaw tightened. He knew what this was — a public challenge meant to humiliate him.
Master Joren raised his hand. "Begin."
Seris wasted no time. She launched forward with ice-imbued strikes, crystalline shards forming midair and firing like arrows. Lucian dodged to the side, wind flaring beneath his feet to push him just out of range. He retaliated with a burst of wind, enough to knock Seris off-balance.
She caught herself with an elegant pivot and smiled. "Not bad."
Lucian tried to stay calm. Don't use fire… don't use earth. Just wind. Control.
But Seris was unrelenting. She raised her hand and summoned a jagged wall of ice, slamming it into the ground to trap his feet.
Lucian panicked. The moment his movement was restrained, memories surged — the fall, the feeling of helplessness, the laughter of children who once bullied him.
His chest burned.
Not with emotion.
With power.
Flames burst from his hand, melting the ice in an instant. The fire flared out wildly — not a simple flicker, but a deep crimson surge laced with golden undertones.
Gasps echoed around the field.
Lucian immediately cut the power off, chest heaving. "I didn't mean to…"
Master Joren stepped in. "Enough."
Seris narrowed her eyes. "That wasn't just fire… Was it?"
Lucian said nothing.
He turned and walked away from the field, the crowd parting in silence.
Later that evening, while he sat alone under the stars near the dorm rooftop, Maren appeared beside him.
"Don't let her get to you," she said, her long auburn hair loose for once, catching the moonlight. Her sigil — a mark of water — glowed faintly beneath her left eye.
Lucian looked at her. "I didn't even try to use fire. It just… happened. I'm scared of what else is inside me."
Maren sat down, her voice soft. "Then figure it out before someone else tries to. Aetherreach is full of eyes, Lucian. Not all of them are friendly."
Far below them, in the darkness beneath the city, another pair of eyes watched through a shard of glass.
"It's almost time ," the voice whispered. "Soon… the Pillars will fall."