The night sky above the academy glittered with stars, but Kaelith could not find peace beneath their light.
He sat alone in the training hall, legs folded beneath him, eyes half-closed as spiritual energy cycled through his veins. His breath was calm, his aura refined — yet something pressed on his chest like an unseen weight.
The resonance of his Origin Sigil pulsed irregularly, as though agitated.
Kaelith's eyes opened. His pupils glowed faintly in the dark.
This feeling again…
It had begun weeks ago, faint at first — a prickling sensation, like invisible eyes watching from the shadows. At first, he had dismissed it as paranoia born of overtraining. But now, after countless nights, the feeling had only sharpened.
There was something in the academy. Something unseen.
He rose to his feet. The silence of the night pressed against him, but he moved swiftly through the corridors until he reached the chambers of his master, Vice-Master Sylara.
The moment she opened her door, her sharp eyes scanned him head to toe. A faint smirk tugged at her lips.
"So, you've reached Tier Four."
Kaelith bowed slightly. "Yes, Master. Seven months since my breakthrough. I've been consolidating, focusing on refinement."
Sylara's gaze softened for a moment, but only briefly. "Good. Too many young ones chase the next realm without grounding themselves. But you—" she leaned forward slightly, her tone low, "—you look like a man carrying suspicion. Speak."
Kaelith hesitated, then spoke the truth.
"Someone is watching, Master. Not openly. From the shadows. My Origin Sigil reacts strangely whenever I cultivate, as if disturbed. And the air itself… it feels wrong."
Sylara studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she gave a quiet laugh.
"So, even you've sensed it."
Kaelith blinked. "Then… it's true?"
Her smile faded. "Spies. Not one, but many. This academy is a fortress, but no wall is without cracks. Rival clans. Hidden sects. Perhaps even… something darker."
Her eyes gleamed cold. "Do not let it distract you. The elders are not blind. We have measures in place. You, Kaelith, must focus on your own path. When the time comes, your strength will matter more than your suspicion."
Kaelith lowered his head. "Yes, Master."
But even as he obeyed, the unease in his chest only grew sharper.
---
A Betrayal Bought with Gold
Elsewhere in the academy, a quiet transaction was taking place.
In a secluded chamber lit only by a single lantern, Instructor Malreth sat stiffly, his hands trembling slightly as he accepted the weighty pouch of spirit stones laid before him.
Across from him, a figure cloaked in black leaned lazily against the wall. Their voice was smooth, mocking.
"You've done well, Instructor. The academy trusts you. That is why your information is so… valuable to us."
Malreth swallowed hard. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
"I shouldn't… this is dangerous. If the Vice-Masters find out—"
The cloaked figure tilted their head. "And yet, here you are, taking our stones. Don't pretend you're driven by principle. You're drowning in debt, Malreth. Without us, you'd have been stripped of rank long ago. You need us more than we need you."
Malreth's hands clenched, but he could not deny the truth. He had gambled too much, borrowed more than he could ever repay. The Dark Shadow Clan had found him at his weakest, and now… he was theirs.
"What do you want this time?" he asked quietly.
The figure's eyes gleamed beneath the hood.
"Everything. Class schedules. Patrol routes. Guard rotations around the vaults. And… the progress of a certain boy."
"Boy?" Malreth frowned.
"Kaelith Varion."
Malreth froze. "Varion… the third son of the Varion Clan?"
The figure smirked. "Yes. The 'weakling.' Or so they said. But we hear whispers of change. We hear he is no longer so weak. Watch him closely. Every word, every technique, every breakthrough. We want it all."
Malreth's stomach churned. He nodded, clutching the pouch tighter.
"Good." The figure stepped back into the shadows, their form dissolving into smoke.
Malreth slumped forward, trembling.
What have I done?
---
Quiet Investigation
For the next several weeks, Kaelith continued his training, but his suspicion gnawed at him like a thorn.
He began moving more carefully through the academy, watching, listening. He noticed odd things others dismissed — the way certain instructors avoided each other's gaze, the sudden silences when he entered rooms, the strange energy signatures that flickered in restricted corridors at night.
He did not yet understand their purpose, but a pattern was forming.
One evening, while crossing the courtyard, he caught sight of Instructor Malreth speaking hurriedly to a cloaked figure beneath the shadow of a tree. The moment Kaelith's gaze sharpened on them, the cloaked figure dissolved into smoke, vanishing into the night.
Malreth paled when he realized Kaelith had seen him.
"Disciple Varion," he stammered. "Burning the midnight oil again? You should rest. Overexertion leads to deviation."
Kaelith said nothing, his expression unreadable. He walked past without a word.
But his mind was racing.
That cloak… that energy. It wasn't normal. And Malreth's fear… he's hiding something.
For days after, Kaelith shadowed Malreth discreetly. He never caught the instructor in the act again, but the nervousness in Malreth's eyes grew more obvious with each passing day.
There are spies here. I was right. But what are they after?
---
Master's Warning
When Kaelith returned to Sylara with his suspicions, she listened quietly, her expression calm.
"So, you've begun to investigate." She sighed softly, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Kaelith, I warned you not to let this consume you. The academy has its own ways of dealing with traitors. Your focus should remain on strength."
"But Master—"
"Enough." Her voice sharpened. "You have talent, yes. But you are still too small to fight against shadows this vast. If you overreach now, you'll be crushed before you can ever rise."
Kaelith clenched his fists, frustration burning in his chest.
"Then at least tell me this—what do they want?"
Sylara's gaze hardened, and for the first time, Kaelith sensed unease in her aura.
"…That, Kaelith, is something I cannot yet confirm. But whatever it is… it is no trivial thing. The fact that they dare infiltrate this academy at all means their goal is monumental."
She laid a hand on his shoulder, her eyes piercing into his.
"Trust me. Your role in this will come soon enough. But not yet. Until then, sharpen your blade. For when the storm breaks, you will need it."
Kaelith bowed his head reluctantly.
"Yes, Master."
But inside, his determination burned brighter than ever.
He would not sit idle.
If spies moved in shadows, then he would move too.
---
The Gathering Clouds
The academy carried on with its usual rhythms — classes, training, duels, politics between disciples. Outwardly, all was the same.
But Kaelith felt it.
Every whisper. Every flicker of movement in the corners of his vision. Every shift in aura that didn't belong.
The shadows were closing in.
And though he did not yet know their true purpose, Kaelith swore silently to himself:
I will uncover you. And when I do… no shadow will save you.
Unbeknownst to him, in the depths of the Dark Shadow Clan, Lord Umbra smiled coldly as reports trickled in.
"The boy suspects. Good. Let him. Suspicion without proof only breeds isolation. He will be watched, mocked, ignored. And when the time comes…"
Umbra's voice dripped with venom.
"…we will tear the heart from the academy — and from him."
The storm drew closer.
And in the heart of it, Kaelith Varion stood, sharpening his will like a blade.