The next morning, the storm was gone.
Sunlight trickled into Drift Hollow like liquid gold, shining across algae-lined walls and illuminating forgotten carvings embedded deep in the rock. The sea was calm, deceptive in its serenity, but the three fugitives who huddled inside knew better than to believe in peace.
Kael stood at the edge of a broken dock half-submerged in water, his eyes scanning the exposed carvings just beyond the stone arch. Symbols he couldn't read—at least not entirely—spiraled across a hidden wall.
"They're not royal," he muttered, brushing moss away.
"They're Learner glyphs," Seren confirmed from behind him. "Old ones. Banned after the Scholar Wars. Only a few enclaves ever used spiral-casting notation."
Kael traced one with his finger, then another, and then stopped at a specific marking — a diamond with fractured edges and branching rays.
"I've seen this before," he said.
Lia joined them. "Where?"
Kael didn't answer right away. Instead, he pulled out a soaked notebook from his salvaged satchel, carefully unrolling a drawing. The same symbol. Same proportions. He'd copied it months ago, buried inside an unrelated tome in the royal archives.
"I thought it was a decoration," he said. "But it's a key."
Seren's eyes narrowed. "To what?"
Kael looked up at the carvings.
"To a different way of using power."
---
The Glyph Vault
With Kael guiding and Seren augmenting the sequences, the three of them followed the glyph trail deeper underground, past collapsed catacombs and forgotten lore-rooms. Torch crystals lit automatically as they entered, reacting to traces of mana.
After nearly an hour of descent, they stood before an arched vault.
Unlike anything they'd seen, it pulsed with old magic.
Across the doorway, etched in ancient glyph-script, was a phrase that made Kael's breath catch:
> Power does not belong to blood. It belongs to the mind that dares wield it.
Lia whispered, "Who were these people?"
Kael stepped forward, hand resting on the door. "Learners. Before the Talents took over. Before the myths of divine gifts."
"Before the chains," Seren said darkly.
He pressed his hand against the stone.
It opened.
---
Inside was not a treasury, but a library.
Circular. Multi-leveled. Endless.
Books floated midair, held aloft by subtle glyphs. Scrolls rolled and unrolled themselves silently, some glowing faintly, others wrapped in stasis wards.
It was a Learner's sanctuary, untouched by centuries of purges.
Kael walked to the center. "This isn't just knowledge. It's forbidden knowledge."
Seren nodded. "Everything the royals were afraid of. How Learners created power without divine gifts. How they rivaled Talents—and why the Scholar Wars were so brutal."
Kael touched a book.
The glyphs responded.
A projection flickered in the air—an old record from a forgotten scholar.
> "If you're reading this, the world has failed again. Power has fallen to birthright. But if you're thinking—then there is hope."
---
Revelations
Over the next two days, Kael devoured texts, analyzed glyph theory, and recreated old sequences. He reawakened concepts lost to time:
Cognitive Echo Casting – a method for layering spells by holding complex thoughts in split memory threads.
Pulse Logic Arrays – for manipulating the natural flow of mana through environmental architecture.
Disjunction Frames – the basis of severing divine glyphs from their source.
"This isn't just power," Kael said one night, looking up from an open volume. "It's a blueprint for overthrowing the Talents."
Lia looked startled. "You mean... a revolution?"
Kael shook his head.
"No," he said. "Not war. Not like the old ones."
He held up a glowing page.
"I mean proof. That their entire system is a lie."
Seren leaned in slowly. "That will be more dangerous than any spell, Kael."
"I know."
He looked up at them, eyes sharp.
"And that's why I need both of you."
---
Above, in the Royal Capital...
Ardyn knelt once again in the chamber of divine flame. The High Talent stood before a council of silver-robed elders.
"He escaped into the sea," one said coldly.
"No," another corrected. "He descended into the old ways."
"The boy is only a Learner," Ardyn said, but his voice lacked conviction.
The High Talent's gaze burned into him.
"You've fought him. Tell us the truth."
Ardyn hesitated, then bowed lower.
"He's not just a Learner. He's a scholar reborn. And he's not alone."