The rain had started before dawn. It wasn't ordinary rain. At Vaelcrest, even the weather had an agenda. The clouds above the academy grounds churned with faint sigils...sky-etched runes drawn in ancient elemental script. The rain that fell shimmered in faint hues, sometimes red, sometimes blue, sometimes a dark grey that never touched the ground. Magic residues. Leftover fragments of protective spells, training collisions, and gods knew what else.
Nyxar watched it all from the window beside his bunk. He didn't sleep much. He couldn't. The Passenger stirred more often these days. It didn't speak clearly...but sometimes, when his mind wandered, it leaned in. Like it wanted him to see things differently.
"Rain's got teeth," he muttered.
Then, louder: "I should write that down."
"Please don't," said his roommate, groaning from the top bunk.
Varik was a second-year student with Airborn affinity and a talent for sarcasm. He didn't talk much, but Nyxar didn't mind. The two coexisted with quiet respect: one brooding, the other too tired to care.
"You've got classes early, don't you?" Varik asked, still half-asleep.
Nyxar nodded. "Chronomancy and Tactical Elements. Then mixed-field drill."
"That sounds… horrifying. Good luck."
"Thanks. Try not to drown."
Varik groaned again and pulled a pillow over his head.
***
It felt like the bell rang earlier today. The cold had done a number on the students as a result of the rain. Yet footsteps echoed in various hallways, each student hurrying to their classes for the day.
Professor Relden had a voice like falling sand and a beard like he stole it from a thunder god. The man spoke slowly, like time bent around his words.
"Chronomancy," he intoned, "is not about time travel. It is about influence. Nudge the moment. Delay an instant. Accelerate a breath."He indicated the hourglass floating in the middle of the room. It glistened and the sand within paused in mid-drip. Then he continued. "Those who try to leap through time often become unstuck from it. And unstuck mages tend to age backward, forward… or not at all."
A shiver ran through the class. Nyxar, seated near the back, leaned forward. Curious. Not eager...but attentive.
Professor Relden paused. "Nyxar, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir."
"I've read your file. Unaligned. Shadow-touched. Marked by an unknown force."
"yeah...that's me."
Relden nodded slowly. "You may find Chronomancy agreeable. It has... edges. Like you."
Nyxar didn't know how to respond to that, so he just nodded once. Kaela, two rows ahead, gave him a smirk over her shoulder.
***
The students gathered in the southern arena .... an open space ringed with arcane symbols, enchanted stone pillars, and a faint heat shimmer that hinted at suppressed barriers. Combat instructor Varn was already waiting.
"Listen up!. This is a controlled drill," he barked. "You'll be assigned into teams of three. Your goal is to capture the crest placed at the center of the field. No lethal spells. Pain is allowed. Bones, if broken, will be reset."
Someone gulped.
Nyxar was teamed with Kaela and a nervous Flameborn student named Emetri, who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. Their opponents were Arlen Velacrux and two senior students. It wasn't even close to fair.
"Stick together," Kaela whispered. "Emetri, don't panic. Nyx...?"
"I'm already panicking," he replied.
Uh-huh. She rolled her eyes.
"Don't get cocky."
"Too late."he replied.
The match began with a thunderclap.
Arlen's team came hard and fast...precision strikes, layered enchantments, tactical synergy. They were trained. Polished.
But Kaela moved like wind incarnate, slipping through attacks and redirecting strikes with bursts of cutting current. Emetri lit himself up like a forge. Nervous or not, his fire blasts created enough chaos to force their opponents back.
Nyxar just stood. Alert. He didn't cast anything. Not yet. He waited for a chance, then stepped between two spells, dodged a third, and caught Arlen's wrist mid-swing. The air twisted around him with dark pressure. Not magic...presence.
"Hello again," Nyxar said.
Arlen sneered. "Still full of tricks, slumrat?"
Nyxar didn't answer. He simply turned, shifted his weight, and used Arlen's momentum against him. The noble hit the ground hard. The crest was theirs thirty seconds later.
***
After the Match
"Did you see that?" Kaela asked, laughing as they sat under the awning outside the arena. Her hair was wet, her knuckles bruised, but her smile was blinding.
"I saw it," Nyxar said.
"You moved like a damn ghost."
"I was trying not to puke, actually."
She elbowed him lightly. "Come on, take the win."
"Fine," he smirked. "We crushed them."
"Damn right we did." She tossed him a wrapped pastry from her coat pocket. "Peace offering. For not letting me get hit by that senior."
He unwrapped it. Bean-honey bun. Still warm. They ate in silence for a while, watching the rain come down harder.
Later that night on the dorm rooftop.
Nyxar stood alone. The academy stretched beneath him...towers, domes, bridges of light. He could see the training fields from here. The floating obelisks. The memory pools. It should've felt like a dream.
But something inside him... stirred again. The Passenger. This time, it didn't whisper. It watched. Then it spoke.
Soon.
Nyxar clenched the railing hard.
The wind answered with silence.