The canteen hummed with quiet conversation and the clatter of metal trays. Light streamed in through the high windows, pale and cold, tinting everything in shades of gray-blue. Gray sat at one of the tables with Renn, Adel, and Korr, his tray barely touched. The soup in front of him had cooled long ago, a thin layer of steam rising and fading with each breath he took.
Adel was talking about something, her tone as light as ever. Korr had joined in, and Renn was trying not to laugh between mouthfuls. But Gray's attention drifted, drawn inward, his thoughts caught between the present and what had happened only an hour before.
He had gone to the library.
The memory came back like a faint echo as he stared at the spoon in his hand, reflections dancing across the metal.
***
The library had been quiet when he entered —that eerie, almost sacred kind of quiet where even breathing felt like a disturbance. Rows upon rows of books stretched before him, the smell of old paper and ink thick in the air. The lights above flickered slightly, just enough to make shadows shift along the corners.
He'd walked up to the counter, and behind it sat a woman—tall, her hair pinned up neatly, eyes sharp as glass. She looked up from a ledger, her expression unreadable.
"Oh! It's you again, how can i help you?" she'd asked, voice low, polite.
Gray had hesitated, unsure if asking about what he'd heard in a dream would sound ridiculous. But he'd pushed through it. "I… heard some words. I'm trying to figure out what they mean. Maybe you've seen them before?"
She had tilted her head, waiting.
He repeated them carefully, sounding them out as best he could. "Vh'laen… dosk thrynn… ashaar."
The woman's brows had furrowed slightly. "That is not a language I recognize."
"Are you sure?" Gray had pressed.
"Yes," she said. Then, after a pause, her eyes flickered away from him. "Though… it does sound reminiscent of an older tongue. Possibly pre-Cataclysmic. The first one, 'Vh'laen,' might be a name. Or… a place."
Something in her tone had changed as she spoke that last word—a tightening, like she'd said too much.
"Do you know where it is?"
"No," she replied quickly. "And I'd advise you not to chase the remnants of forgotten languages. They were buried for a reason."
Before Gray could say anything else, she had returned to her ledger, ending the conversation.
He had thanked her quietly, turned away, and felt her gaze follow him until he was out of sight.
***
Now, sitting in the canteen, the memory gnawed at him.
He set his spoon down. "Renn," he said suddenly.
Renn looked up from his tray. "Yeah?"
Gray hesitated, eyes flickering toward the window before returning to his friend. "You ever heard of a place called… Vaelan? Or something close to it?"
Renn frowned. "Vaelan?" He leaned back, tapping his fingers against the table. "Hmm… doesn't sound familiar. Why?"
Gray shrugged lightly. "Heard it mentioned somewhere. Thought maybe it was a myth or something."
"Vaelan," Renn repeated again, slower this time. "It sounds… old. Like one of those lost-world names. Maybe something from before the Collapse."
Adel raised an eyebrow. "Why, Gray? Planning a vacation to a dead civilization?"
Gray gave a small, tired smile. "Something like that."
Korr let out a quiet laugh. "If it's not on the map, it's probably on purpose. The world's full of buried things better left that way. We learnt that from Glacierfang."
The way he said it made Gray glance at him. Korr's tone was half-joking, half-serious—and his eyes, sharp beneath his dark hair, carried a glint of experience that didn't belong to most students.
Gray didn't respond. Instead, he stirred his soup idly, watching as the pale broth swirled like smoke.
"Anyway," Renn said, eager to change the mood, "did you guys see the combat trials yesterday? Lira was on fire. Literally."
Gray looked up. "Yeah. I waa there and also saw her. Aswell Aurelle."
Adel leaned forward, her silver hair falling over one shoulder, eyes gleaming with amusement. "You noticed Aurelle too?"
Gray coughed. "Yeah..."
He sighed. "They've both gotten stronger. Different somehow. Aurelle especially."
Korr nodded. "Her control's unreal. She moves like she's rehearsed every step."
Renn had been the one to bring up the most intriguing scene."Still can't get over how Aurelle just… surrendered," he said, shaking his head. "He had Lira on the ropes. Everyone saw it. Then he just dropped his blade and walked off like he'd already finished something the rest of us couldn't see."
Gray's eyes had flicked toward him. "Yeah," he murmured. "It didn't look like a loss. More like he'd … decided it was enough."
Korr leaned forward then, grin spreading across his face. "Speaking of fights—that one you had with Elara? You had her pinned for a moment. Didn't think you had it in you."
Renn laughed, slapping Gray's shoulder. "Man, the way you moved—that last strike, everyone was shouting. Didn't know you could fight like that."
Gray gave a faint smile. "Neither did I."
Adel, sipping from her cup, looked at him sideways. "Then what happened with that white-haired boy? You just froze up. You looked like you'd seen a ghost."
Gray hesitated, the smile fading. "…I don't know," he said quietly. "Maybe I did."
For a moment, the table went quiet. The clinking and chatter of the canteen seemed far away. The memory of that boy, cold eyes, precise movements—lingered in Gray's mind.
Adel spoke first, breaking the silence. "What do you think Aurelle's Affinity is?"
Renn shrugged. "Not sure. But if I had to guess… it's not something ordinary. I could ask around, though."
"Why's that?" Gray asked.
Renn smiled faintly. "Because his surname's Nocthallow, and that's a name you don't hear unless it matters."
Gray's heart gave a small, uneasy thump. "So he's … royal?"
"Very likely," Renn said. "Which means we've got at least three of them here."
"Three?" Korr asked.
"Elara counts," Renn replied. "You didn't know? The way Seraphine looks at her, she's always been protective of her. Or at least it looks like it. I doubt they'd share the same name with the academy for no reason."
'Good point...I never really thought of that.' Gray pondered silently.
The table went still. Even Adel's usual smirk faded.
Gray leaned back in his chair, the words sinking in. Royals. Hidden lineages. Buried names. And now… Vaelan.
It all threaded together in a way that made the back of his neck prickle.
Adel finally broke the silence, trying to shake it off. "Well, that explains a lot. The attitude, the composure, the way they always seem to know more than everyone else."
Renn chuckled. "Don't tell her that. She'll have us cleaning training halls for a week."
Gray smiled faintly, but it didn't reach his eyes.
The room felt colder now, though nothing had changed. Conversations continued around them, plates clinked, laughter echoed faintly from another table — but something in the air had shifted.
Gray looked down at his wristband. Only one class today. The rest of the evening was open.
He exhaled slowly.
That librarian had hesitated when he mentioned the word. She'd known something, she just didn't want to say it.
The name wouldn't leave his head. Vh'laen… dosk thrynn… ashaar. It whispered faintly at the edge of his hearing, not in sound, but in memory. Like the remnants of a dream refusing to die.
He picked up his tray. "I'll catch up with you guys later," he said.
Renn looked up. "Where you going?"
"Just need to check something."
"Library again?" Adel asked, smirking.
Gray didn't answer.
As he left the canteen, the corridor outside felt unnaturally still. The lights hummed faintly above him, flickering in intervals. He walked past the classrooms, the training chambers, the rare murals depicting the Founding of Nyxterra—all of it quiet, too quiet.
He stopped near one of the tall glass windows and looked out. Beyond the Academy walls, the horizon glowed faintly with the last light of day. Mountains loomed in the distance—sharp, cold silhouettes against the setting sun.
His reflection in the glass looked pale, grey eyes darker than he remembered.
Something had changed in him since that night, something that still lingered just beneath the surface.
He turned and continued down the hall.
Tonight, he told himself, he'd go back to the library. Not during the day, when prying eyes and restrictions stood in the way. At night. When the corridors were empty and the systems asleep.
Whatever that librarian was hiding, whatever those words meant, he was going to find out.
And as he walked back to his room, the whisper came again, faint but clear this time, curling through the quiet like smoke.
"Vh'laen… dosk thrynn… ashaar…"
Gray stopped, breath catching. The air felt heavy, pressing against his skin.
Somewhere deep within him, a chill stirred, not from fear, but from recognition.
The words weren't just echoes. They were calling.
He looked toward the far end of the corridor, where the light flickered once and went out.
For a heartbeat, it felt as though something, unseen, patient, was waiting just beyond the shadows.
The whisper faded.
Gray stood still for a long moment, then finally turned away.
'Tonight...tonight.'