Kael and Elira had begun spending more time together outside of class, their paths crossing frequently in parks, shops, and training grounds. Though they rarely spoke about it, both seemed to find comfort in each other's company—a quiet understanding that bridged the gap between noble and commoner. At times, they sparred in one of the open courtyards, exchanging blows with varying degrees of success. Kael often found himself at a disadvantage; his abilities weren't designed for direct combat, and Elira's precision with her artifacts gave her the upper hand. Still, he held his ground as best he could, earning grudging respect from her with every match.
"You're getting better," Elira admitted after one particularly grueling session, wiping sweat from her brow. Her tone was light but carried an edge of sincerity. "Though you still rely too much on tricks."
Kael smirked, leaning against a nearby pillar as he caught his breath. "Tricks keep me alive. Besides, I don't need brute strength when I can make my opponent doubt themselves before they even swing."
Elira raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Fair enough. But what happens when someone isn't so easily swayed?"
Kael didn't have an answer for that—not yet, anyway. Instead, he changed the subject, asking about her progress with artifact crafting. She hesitated before sharing a few details, careful not to reveal too much. Their conversations were like this—guarded yet genuine, two people testing the waters of friendship while keeping parts of themselves hidden.
---
When Kael wasn't training or talking with Elira, he focused on mastering the Shard of Oblivion. The new ability fascinated him, its potential far exceeding anything he'd encountered before. He tested it cautiously, experimenting on unsuspecting students during breaks or in crowded hallways. It wasn't malicious intent driving him—he wanted to understand how far he could push the power without causing harm.
One afternoon, he stood near a group of freshmen arguing over seating arrangements in the dining hall. Focusing on one student, he reached out with the Shard of Oblivion, planting a subtle seed of desire paired with a flicker of dread. Within moments, the boy shifted uncomfortably, glancing around as if sensing something amiss. His argument faltered, replaced by uncertainty, allowing another student to take the seat instead. No one noticed the exchange, least of all the victim, who simply shrugged it off as fatigue.
Another time, Kael observed a senior berating a younger student for a minor mistake. Using the Shard, he amplified the senior's latent fear of failure, making them pause mid-rant. The words died on their lips, replaced by self-doubt that lingered long after Kael walked away. These experiments reinforced his growing confidence in the ability—but also reminded him of its cost. Each use left him hollow, pieces of himself chipped away as though the void demanded payment in return.
Despite the toll, Kael couldn't resist delving deeper. The Shard of Oblivion wasn't just a tool—it was evolving. Threads of emotion twisted into intricate patterns within his mind, forming connections he hadn't anticipated. Sometimes, he felt as though the void itself whispered secrets to him, hints of knowledge older than the academy or even the kingdom. Fragments of ancient seekers surfaced in his thoughts, their legacies tied to forces beyond mortal comprehension. One name echoed louder than the rest: **Lysander Veythar**, a grand mage whose mastery over fire and phoenix summoning made him legendary among nobles and scholars alike.
---
The whispers of Lysander Veythar grew stronger as days passed, though Kael couldn't tell if they came from the void or his own research. Tales of the man spread throughout the school, spoken in hushed tones by professors and students alike. A noble-born prodigy, Lysander had risen through the ranks of the academy faster than anyone in history. His knowledge over blue flame—an arcane energy said to burn away falsehoods—and phoenix summoning marked him as untouchable. Some claimed he commanded flames capable of consuming entire armies, while others swore his summoned phoenixes granted him immortality.
Elira mentioned him once during one of their outings, her voice tinged with awe. "If you want to know true power, study Lysander," she said casually, though there was a flicker of admiration in her crimson eyes. "He's rumored to be mentoring select students this year. Maybe we'll see him soon."
Kael nodded absently, storing the information away. Something about the name unsettled him—not fear, exactly, but a sense of inevitability, as though their paths were destined to cross. For now, though, he focused on honing his own abilities, determined to prove himself worthy—or dangerous—enough to stand alongside such legends.