V led the way upstairs, boots clicking against the narrow steps. The air smelled faintly of old wood, burning herbs, and something that reminded Caelum of forgotten rain.
When they reached their rooms, V tossed one key to him. "Go wash. Properly. I don't want to be seen with a walking pile of compost."
Caelum caught the key mid-air, his fingers moving with unnatural sharpness. "I wasn't aware your reputation was so fragile."
V smirked. "You'd be surprised. Dirt is infectious in some social circles."
Caelum gave a small sound — half chuckle, half scoff — and disappeared into the bathing room.
---
The room was dim and filled with steam. Water rippled in the basin like liquid glass, reflecting the faint orange glow of lantern light.
Caelum stripped and lowered himself into it, hissing softly when the heat hit his skin. Dirt bloomed outward in grey tendrils, dissolving in the water until it turned murky.
He leaned his head back, letting the warmth seep into his muscles. For a moment, his mind emptied — just water, breath, and the faint crackle of firewood outside.
Then the thoughts began to crawl in.
Why does this feel… wrong?
He watched the grime swirl and vanish. The forest, the mud, the blood — all those things had clung to him like armor. Now, stripped of them, he felt strangely bare.
His reflection on the surface didn't look familiar. The sharp eyes, the faint luminescent sheen of his skin under the lamplight — it wasn't a face that belonged to the forest.
He murmured, "Maybe the filth was me."
From the other side of the door, V's lazy voice floated in. "Talking to yourself already? Good sign of madness, that."
"how did he even hear me." Caelum muttered back.
V chuckled. "Trust me, corpses listen better."
---
By the time Caelum stepped out, towel slung over his shoulders, the world had shifted.
The boy who'd entered was wild, animalistic — something half-feral that the forest itself had sculpted. The one who emerged looked refined but dangerous, like a blade freshly polished yet still stained beneath the edge.
His hair, now untangled, shimmered pale silver with hints of muted green under the lantern light. His eyes — gods, those eyes — retained that primal gleam, yet there was calculation now, something aware and ancient and far too calm for someone his age.
V, lounging near the window with a glass of red wine, froze.
"…You clean up disturbingly well."
Caelum raised a brow. "Disappointed?"
"More… unnerved," V admitted. "You look like you belong to every race and none at once. Just… wrong in a fascinating way."
Caelum's lips twitched. "You could just say I'm ugly."
"Oh, you're not ugly," V said, eyes narrowing in amusement.
V laughed softly, shaking his head. "Tell me, what are you, really? You move differently, but your mana feels older than most forests. You bleed like a human, but your essence—"
Caelum cut him off with a cold look. "Do you really want my blood, or my origin?"
That stopped V mid-sentence. For a long second, he just stared, lips curving into something unreadable. "…Touché."
---
Later, they sat in the corner of the inn's tavern.
The atmosphere was dim but lively; merchants and travelers exchanged stories over mugs of ale. Caelum ate quietly, using his fork like it might bite back. V, of course, watched him with the amusement of a scholar studying an exotic creature.
"So," V said finally, "you really don't know much about the world, do you?"
Caelum looked up, fork pausing midair. "I know enough to kill and to live."
"That's adorable. But no — I mean the world beyond your precious forest. Kingdoms, factions, the balance of power. You're like a child with a sword in a storm."
Caelum's tone stayed flat. "Then teach me."
V leaned back, swirling the crimson wine in his glass. "Lesson one: this continent is divided by three forces — The Solstice Empire in the east, the Abyssal Federation in the west, and the Neutral Territories in between. We, right now, are standing in one of those Neutral hubs. Not much law here, but a lot of opportunity."
Caelum listened silently, eyes flicking toward the other tables. People laughed, argued, lived. The noise felt distant, unreal.
V continued, "The Empire worships the sun and bloodlines — strength through purity. The Federation worships chaos — strength through evolution. And the Neutral Territories? We worship coin. Everyone does, eventually."
He took a slow sip, watching Caelum's expression. "The Raven Academy sits between them all. Neutral ground. A place where monsters and prodigies play at being students. You want to grow stronger, that's where you go. You want to die early, that's also where you go."
Caelum's eyes glinted faintly. "And which one are you?"
"Both," V said easily. "Depends on the day."
---
V went on. "Lesson two — bloodlines. Every creature has one, but not all are equal. Vampires, demons, angels, elves, ancient beastkin and many more hold dominant strains. But then there are anomalies — hybrids born of forbidden unions, things nature didn't quite sign off on. Their power tends to… devour itself."
His gaze slid to Caelum. "You feel like one of those anomalies."
Caelum tilted his head slightly. "And if I am?"
"Then the world will try to either cage you or worship you," V said simply. "Usually both."
Caelum's gaze dropped to his half-eaten food.
The vampire smiled faintly. "just you wait until the Academy."
---
As the night deepened, the tavern emptied. Only the whisper of wind and faint candlelight remained. V was still talking — half explaining, half musing aloud.
"Mana paths differ between bloodlines," he said, tapping his temple. "We vampires use blood as a conductor. Elves use life-force. Beastkin use raw instinct. Dragons...those creatures are blessed man. Humans… overthink everything and still die first. Infact they're so many race out there, some are ridiculously powerful and some weak."
He glanced at Caelum. "What do you use?"
Caelum thought for a moment before answering. "I don't use mana. I listen to it."
V blinked. "You listen?"
"It moves," Caelum said softly. "It has rhythm. You can't force it to obey. You can only ask."
The vampire studied him for a long moment, then exhaled slowly. "That's… dangerously poetic for someone who just tried to murder me yesterday."
Caelum shrugged lightly. "Instinct."
"Instinct doesn't explain technique. You used at least three distinct mana forms — vines, burst, and camouflage. That's not instinct. That's training."
Caelum's voice was quiet. "Maybe the forest trained me."
"You talk like it's alive."
Caelum looked at him. "Isn't everything?"
V went silent at that.
---
By the time the innkeeper came to dim the lanterns, V was lounging on the couch, arm draped lazily over the backrest, eyes still on Caelum.
"You know," he said, "most people your age talk about dreams. Ambitions. You talk about survival."
Caelum's tone didn't change. "I just can't afford to fail."
V chuckled, low and amused. "And yet you're going to the Academy — the one place where dreams either grow or get butchered."
"That's why it's perfect," Caelum said simply.
V studied him for a long moment — the faint scar near his jawline, the still-wet hair clinging to his neck, the quiet intensity that never dimmed.
He murmured, "You're either going to destroy that place… or let it destroy you."
Caelum looked up, meeting his gaze. "Whichever comes first." I won't let me race be buried forever
---
When the silence finally fell between them, it wasn't awkward — just thick with unspoken things.
V finally sighed and stood. "You'll need new clothes before we travel. And gods forbid, a bath every now and then. You're not in the forest anymore."
Caelum's lips curved faintly. "You care too much for a predator."
"Is that how you see me? I just don't want people thinking I kidnapped a vagrant."
"Didn't you?"
V smirked. "Voluntarily."
---
Later, when the lights dimmed and the inn fell silent, Caelum sat near the window, staring out at the distant city lights.
The sound of laughter and distant music echoed faintly through the night — a far cry from the rustling leaves and distant howls of his forest. The air was heavier, tinged with smoke and life and hidden hunger.
He pressed his palm against the glass, watching his reflection overlay with the city beyond. Clean skin. Sharp eyes. A stranger's face.
V's voice drifted from across the room. "Still awake?"
Caelum didn't answer.
"Good," V said, tone lazy. "Then remember this — the Raven Academy doesn't care what you've been through. It only cares what you can become. If you fail, they'll bury you under the pretty title of 'potential wasted.' If you succeed… the world changes around you."
Caelum murmured, barely audible. "That's why I exist."
V smiled faintly in the darkness. "That's the spirit, little monster."
---
The moonlight slid across Caelum's face, silvering his features.
And somewhere, in the depths of his blood, the forest whispered back — a quiet promise that no matter how far he walked, the wild would never truly leave him.