The faint ringing of the bell marked the beginning of the next class. The teacher entered — tall, composed, and carrying a stack of thick, weathered books that looked centuries old. The sound of leather and parchment filled the air.
"Today," the teacher announced, his deep voice steady yet firm, "we continue with the phonetic patterns of the Old Tongue. I hope you all revised yesterday's dialect forms."
A collective groan echoed through the classroom — a sure sign no one had.
Kael sat straight, trying to shake off the dull ache in his shoulder. The intricate symbols on the board drew his eyes immediately. They felt familiar. The sharp lines, the flow between vowels — he didn't know why, but his mind clicked with them almost instinctively.
Lyra, beside him, was already scribbling notes with meticulous neatness, though Kael could sense her quiet struggle. Her lips moved slightly, murmuring sounds under her breath as she tried to match the pronunciations.
Kael tilted his head, listening. The words rolled softly off her tongue — quiet, hesitant, and a bit off-rhythm. He leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice.
"It's not 'Vahr-en', it's 'Vahr-un'. The middle tone dips lower."
Lyra blinked and turned, slightly surprised. "Ah… I see. T-thank you."
Her tone carried both shyness and a hint of relief. Kael smiled faintly and nodded, turning back to the board.
The teacher began pacing slowly between the rows. "Each rune in the Old Tongue holds meaning beyond words. Those who truly feel the sound — those who let the symbol speak through them — will find it easier to comprehend."
Finn, two rows behind, yawned loudly. "Yeah, and those who don't feel it will die of boredom."
The class burst into muffled laughter.
The teacher didn't even turn, simply replying, "Thank you, Mr. Finn, for volunteering to read the next line."
Finn froze. "Wait, what?"
The room chuckled again. Kael couldn't help it — he smiled. For a moment, everything felt normal.
As Finn stumbled through a string of old syllables, half the class winced. Even the teacher sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Enough. You've butchered three dialects in one sentence."
Kael bit his lip to keep from laughing, while Lyra quietly covered her mouth, shoulders shaking.
Then the teacher's gaze shifted toward Kael. "Mr. Kael, since you seem rather entertained, why don't you show us how it's done?"
Kael stiffened. "Ah— sure."
He rose, glancing at the board. The runes looked ancient, but as his eyes traced them, something flickered — a spark in memory or instinct. His lips moved before he could think:
"Vahr-un se'leth nair—"
The syllables flowed smooth, natural — as if his tongue had known the rhythm long before he did. The classroom went silent. Even the teacher paused, eyes narrowing slightly in intrigue.
"That… was almost perfect," the teacher said slowly. "You've studied before?"
Kael blinked. "No, sir. Just… guessed the flow."
The teacher's gaze lingered for a moment longer before he nodded. "Very well. Sit down. Everyone, that is how it should sound."
As Kael sat back, Finn leaned forward and whispered, "Show-off."
Kael grinned. "Says the guy who summoned three languages of chaos in one line."
Finn snorted, trying not to laugh aloud.
Lyra looked at Kael with quiet astonishment. "You… really haven't studied this before?"
Kael shook his head. "No idea how I knew it. Just… felt natural."
Her eyes softened. "That's… strange. But impressive."
He turned to her, half teasing. "You could've said amazing too, you know."
She blushed slightly, looking back at her notebook. "D-don't push your luck."
The class went on, and the teacher began explaining the deeper meanings behind each rune — how their shapes mirrored ancient philosophies of balance, order, and chaos. Kael, though outwardly calm, felt something stir within him. Every symbol resonated faintly, echoing through his mind like forgotten whispers.
By the end of the lecture, the teacher closed his book. "For homework, translate the passage from the Second Era Tablets. Those who fail will be asked to read Finn's version of the Old Tongue as punishment."
Everyone groaned again.
Finn threw up his hands. "That's just cruel!"
Lusia called from the back. "Don't worry, Finn, maybe you'll invent a new dialect."
The class erupted into laughter once more. Even the teacher smiled faintly before walking out.
Kael leaned back, glancing once more at the symbols drawn on the board. Why did it feel like I've seen them before? Heard them before?
Something within him stirred again — faint, distant, and ancient. But before he could follow the feeling further, Lyra softly called his name.
"Kael…?"
He blinked, turning.
"Y-you're spacing out again," she said, her tone gentle but shy.
He smiled faintly. "Just thinking. About… nothing important."
She tilted her head slightly, as if wanting to ask more — but didn't.
The bell rang, echoing through the hallways once more.
Another day moved forward. But for Kael, the weight of something forgotten began to hum quietly in the back of his mind.