Chapter 4 – Whispers Beneath Stone
The dawn broke cold and sharp over Veltheim Academy.
I woke with the echo of the pulse still humming faintly beneath my skin. It was a rhythm unlike any elemental signature I'd felt — older, layered with forgotten power. A secret buried deep in the academy's foundation.
As I dressed, the usual buzz of students flooded the halls outside. Nobles in embroidered robes brushed past commoners and fledglings alike, their conversations filled with the subtle weapons of social warfare.
I slipped through the corridors toward the Arcane Archives — a vast, labyrinthine library rumored to hold every spell, theory, and secret known to Veltheim.
If there was a key to that pulse, I would find it there.
The archives were everything you'd expect and more — towering shelves stacked with leather-bound tomes, floating lanterns illuminating dust motes like tiny stars, and the soft murmur of students whispering incantations.
I wandered the aisles, eyes scanning titles in the ancient script. My fingers tingled with mana, impatient to unravel the mysteries buried in these pages.
A voice startled me.
"Looking for something specific?"
I turned. A young woman with silver hair and emerald eyes smiled at me. Her robes bore the insignia of the Rune Scholars, an elite group within the academy known for their mastery of ancient magic.
"Maybe," I said cautiously.
"I'm Elyra," she introduced herself, stepping closer. "You're new here. I've seen you around during training."
I nodded. "Lioren."
She tilted her head. "You have an unusual mana signature. Almost… archaic."
I forced a small smile. "Does that mean anything good?"
"Depends who you ask," she said, her eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and warning. "Some would say you carry the echo of the Forgotten Star."
I frowned. "What's that?"
Elyra glanced around before lowering her voice. "It's an old legend — a celestial event tied to ancient power. Some believe those touched by it possess rare potential… or a terrible curse."
"Sounds like the sort of thing you find in bedtime stories."
"Maybe," she said, "or maybe it's the reason you felt that pulse."
We spent the morning digging through scrolls and codices, piecing together fragments of history. The Forgotten Star was not just a myth — it was tied to a cataclysm that reshaped the continent centuries ago. A star that fell from the heavens, scattering fragments of raw mana and awakening ancient forces.
The academy had been built atop one of those fragments, sealed away beneath layers of wards and stone.
That pulse I'd felt was a ripple from that sealed power.
And it was waking.
In the afternoon, training resumed with greater intensity.
Instructor Haldena put us through elemental control drills — conjuring fireballs, weaving wind currents, and manipulating water flows. Most students struggled to hold stable forms; their magic sputtered or spiraled wildly.
Not me.
I bent mana to my will with quiet precision, moving through sequences like a choreographed dance. The flame I conjured burned blue and steady, the wind whispered at my command, the water flowed clear and cold.
A few students watched me with thinly veiled envy.
Among them, Kael Dyran appeared again — his golden eyes narrowing as I passed.
"You're a show-off," he sneered.
I smiled faintly. "Just practicing."
He clenched his fists. "Watch yourself. Not everyone here welcomes someone like you."
"Is that a warning or a threat?"
"Both," he hissed, stalking off.
Later that evening, Elyra found me again.
"This place isn't safe," she said bluntly. "The higher-ups are already watching you. Some want to use your power… others want to silence it."
"Why tell me this?"
"Because you're not alone. There are others like you — those touched by the star. Some friendly. Some not."
"Then where do I start?"
"Find the Circle of Seven," Elyra whispered. "They're a secret order within the academy. Protectors of the forgotten magic. They might help you understand your place… and your power."
I swallowed hard. A secret order. It felt like I had stepped into a world layered with shadows and light.
One thing was certain — Veltheim was no ordinary academy.
That night, I lay awake beneath the vaulted ceiling of my dormitory, mind racing.
The fire within me wasn't just raw power. It was a legacy. A curse. A key.
I didn't know what awaited in the shadows.
But I was ready to face it.