Fading Fire, Stirring Tensions, and a Whisper from Beyond
Morning Class: Theory of Ether Conduct
Professor Thistle's voice crackled like dry parchment as she scrawled glowing equations midair.
"Now, who can tell me why a fractured Ether Core creates instability within a Kindled Flame?"
Grim didn't raise his hand.
He could feel it again—the drag. The delay when he reached for his flame. The recoil of his damaged core. A subtle, gnawing reminder from Velthar that he had given too much.
Sparks hovered silently in the upper corner of the room. Her glitch glow dimmed whenever he flexed his fingers.
"You're still fractured," she whispered through their link. "The dragon's mark is keeping you together... but barely."
"I know."
"You're not hiding it as well as you think."
Grim looked up.
Across the room, Zariya was watching him again—this time not with flirtation... but curiosity. She was reading him like a battlefield. Measuring damage. Studying weakness.
Later – Courtyard Shadows
Grim found a quiet bench. Max sat beside him, silent for a while before speaking.
"They're talking, you know."
"Let them."
"Some are saying you burned too bright in Velthar. That you can't light it again."
Grim closed his eyes.
"They'll see soon enough."
From behind a tree, someone snorted.
"Big words, Ash Prince."
They both turned.
A tall third year with silver blue hair stepped forward. He wore the elite crest of the duel division—his Ether Aura humming with unspent voltage.
Name: Kael Vireos
Title: Second Strongest of the Third Years
Affinity: Lightning Surge + Windstep
Rank: Full Ember Core
"Your little kingdom saving stunt might've impressed the nobles," Kael continued, "but here? This is Ashenwell. And we don't bow to broken flames."
Max stood. Ayesha appeared beside them like a shadow. Tristan came from nowhere, already chewing on an apple.
"You looking to get hurt?" Max asked quietly.
Kael smirked. "No. Just... reminding him what it means to carry a flame here."
He stepped into Grim's space—close enough to provoke, not enough to strike.
"Two days. Dueling Pit. I want to see if the Flameborn still burns."
He walked off before anyone could reply.
Sparks' voice fizzled in Grim's mind. "Permission to electrocute his kneecaps?"
Afternoon – Sparks' Search
Down in the archives, Sparks scanned another relic. A crystalline capsule hummed with faint blue light.
Inside it... a pulse.
Not alive. Not conscious. But aware.
"You feel me," she whispered.
For a moment, the vessel's aura flared.
Then words etched themselves on the glass.
You are not ready.
You must choose between rage... or soul.
She floated back, glitching faintly.
"Not cryptic at all. Thanks, ancient dead person."
Evening – The Whisper in the Dark
Grim lay in bed later, staring at the ceiling, breath shallow.
The mark on his chest burned—but not with pain. With purpose.
A low voice echoed across the edge of sleep.
"You've waited long enough... In the dream fire, we meet tonight."
Grim didn't move.
"I'll be there," he whispered.