The academy was restless.
Whispers ran through every hallway, every classroom, every courtyard. Students who once passed Elian without a second thought now turned their heads when he walked by. Some whispered behind their hands, some stared openly, and others avoided his eyes altogether.
It was as though the tournament had put a glowing mark on him, one that could never fade.
Kael walked beside him as always, trying to look relaxed, though his fists clenched tighter than usual. "Ignore them, Elian. They'll shut up once something new happens."
But Elian heard them. Every word.
"He's not normal…"
"Did you see his chest glow? That's not human magic."
"No wonder he doesn't talk about his parents. He probably doesn't even have any."
"Maybe he's a demon's child…"
That last one hit harder than any blade.
Elian's steps slowed. His chest felt tight, his jaw locking to hold back the emotions boiling inside.
When they reached class, Elian sat in his usual spot. Lyra was already there, reading as always, but for the first time she didn't greet him with her usual calm smile.
Her violet eyes flickered up to him, then back to her book.
It was small. Barely noticeable. But it felt like a dagger.
Kael leaned over to Elian and whispered, "Don't think too much about it. She's just… cautious. Everyone's spooked after what happened."
Elian nodded silently, though the knot in his chest only grew tighter.
That day, their teacher, Master Rowan, spoke about the importance of lineage in magic.
"Your bloodline defines your limits," Rowan said, pacing in front of the students. "A noble's child is born with strong reserves, just as a warrior's child inherits their strength. And so the cycle continues. Power is not random—it is inherited."
The timing was cruel.
Several students glanced at Elian when the words left Rowan's mouth. Some smirked, others whispered.
One boy in the back, tall with sharp features, spoke louder than he needed to. "But what about those without parents? Or those with… tainted blood? Can they really be trusted?"
The class laughed softly.
Elian's fists curled under his desk. Heat built in his chest, not from anger alone but from the seal's faint pulse.
Rowan's eyes narrowed. "Enough. We do not judge classmates by rumor." But his voice lacked strength, and his gaze lingered on Elian a moment too long.
That hesitation told Elian everything. Even the teachers doubted him.
That night, Elian sat on the academy roof, staring at the moon. The voices of the day replayed endlessly in his head.
"Tainted blood."
"Not human."
"No parents."
He touched his chest where the seal lay hidden beneath his shirt. For the first time, he wondered if the others were right.
"What am I… really?" he whispered to the night.
A breeze carried his words into silence.
But faintly—so faintly he almost thought he imagined it—he heard a woman's voice again.
> "My child… you are not alone."
Elian's eyes widened. He turned, searching the empty rooftop, but no one was there. Only the moonlight, only the quiet.
The voice left him shaken, but also strangely comforted. For a moment, the doubts didn't feel so heavy.
Far beyond the academy walls, Seraphiel stood in the shadows of the forest, golden eyes fixed on the distant towers.
He had felt the seal stir again.
"His mother's voice… reaching through the cracks," he murmured. His hand tightened on the hilt of his radiant blade. "The time grows short."
And in the deeper dark, unseen by even Seraphiel, another presence watched—the curling shadow of a demon, smiling as though everything was unfolding exactly as planned.