The council chamber was not meant for first-years. Its marble walls and vaulted ceiling loomed with the weight of centuries, every torch bracket shaped like snarling beasts. Only the most promising students or the most troublesome ever saw its interior.
Kael sat stiffly at the end of the long oak table, every muscle in his body taut. Around him, nobles lounged as if they owned the air itself. Their family crests gleamed on embroidered cloaks, their polished boots tapping impatiently against the floor.
At the head of the table sat Elder Veylan, a man of iron posture and silver hair pulled into a knot. His eyes were sharp enough to pin Kael in place without a word.
"You are here," Veylan said, his voice as smooth as a blade, "because order must be maintained. A duel was fought, and its outcome has stirred… unrest."
Kael kept his gaze fixed on the polished wood.
Across from him, Joren seethed, his arm still bound tightly. His jaw was clenched so hard a vein throbbed at his temple. Darius, of course, sat beside him, perfectly composed.
"It was an upset," Darius said lightly, resting his chin on his hand. "Unexpected. Suspicious."
Kael's chest tightened. He bit back a response, but Joren slammed his fist against the table.
"He cheated! I felt it, this speed, his strength. No commoner could fight like that!"
Whispers rippled down the line of nobles.
Elder Veylan raised a hand. The chamber silenced instantly. "Accusations require proof, Joren." His gaze shifted toward Kael. "And you, boy, do you have an explanation for your… remarkable performance?"
Kael forced himself to breathe evenly. One wrong word could be the end. "I trained," he said flatly. "While others wasted time boasting."
A few chuckles broke the tension, though they were more mocking than supportive.
Veylan studied him for a long moment. His silence was heavier than any accusation. Finally, he said, "The academy tolerates ambition. It does not tolerate instability. You will be watched, Ardyn."
The words sank into Kael's bones like chains. Watched. Not trusted.
Darius smirked, eyes glinting with satisfaction.
When the council adjourned, Kael left quickly, desperate for air. But he barely reached the courtyard before a hand caught his shoulder.
"Quite the spectacle in there," Darius drawled, falling into step beside him. His golden hair caught the torchlight, his smile infuriatingly calm.
Kael shoved his hand off. "What do you want, Darius?"
"Only to help you understand the situation," Darius said smoothly. "You've painted a target on your back. Joren won't forgive humiliation. The elders doubt you. And the whispers..." His smirk widened. "Oh yes, there are whispers. About how you moved, how you fought. Something isn't right with you, Ardyn."
Kael's pulse spiked. He forced his voice steady. "Careful what you say. Without proof, it's just air."
Darius leaned close, his breath warm with mockery. "Proof is only a matter of time. And when it comes, I'll be the one holding it."
He tapped Kael's chest with a finger, right over his heart, before walking away, cloak swaying like a banner of victory.
Kael stood frozen, fists trembling.
Later, in the mess hall, the atmosphere had shifted. Conversations hushed when Kael entered. Some students looked at him with awe, others with unease. Joren glared openly from across the room, whispering to anyone who would listen.
Lira Ashveil sat among her peers but didn't join their laughter. Her silver eyes tracked Kael with quiet curiosity, as though she were dissecting him with every glance.
Kael forced himself to eat quickly, though every bite tasted like ash. The academy was no longer indifferent to him. It was circling, calculating, waiting.
That night, Kael slipped into the library again, desperate for silence. The smell of parchment and candle wax soothed his frayed nerves. He traced his fingers along shelves of dusty tomes, stopping at the restricted section, roped off, marked with sigils that glowed faintly.
The whispers in his veins stirred eagerly.
"Answers lie there. Power lies there."
But crossing that line meant expulsion or worse.
Kael clenched his fists. He had to endure. Survive. Find another way.
He turned sharply when footsteps approached. Elara stepped into view, a book cradled in her arms. Her red hair fell loose over her shoulders, eyes half-hidden behind glasses.
"You're restless," she said simply.
Kael blinked. "What?"
"You wander like a hunted animal. And now you stare at wards meant for the desperate."
Kael's chest tightened. He forced a shrug. "I'm not desperate."
Her lips quirked faintly. "Not yet."
She set her book down with a soft thud. "Do you know what happens to those who draw too much attention here? They vanish. Quietly. No questions asked."
Kael's blood ran cold. "Is that a threat?"
"A warning," Elara said calmly. She adjusted her glasses and picked her book back up. "Be careful where you step, Kael Ardyn. Even shadows have ears."
And with that, she disappeared between the shelves, leaving him staring after her.
As Kael returned to his dorm, her words gnawed at him. Vanish. Quietly.
He glanced at his hands, the faint stains of blood that refused to wash away.
The academy wasn't just a school. It was a cage. And the walls were closing in.
The Genesis pulsed in his veins, a dark comfort.
"Cage or not… break it."
Kael lay awake long into the night, Darius's smirk burned into his thoughts, Elara's warning echoing like a curse.
He had survived the assassins. He had survived the council's suspicion. But how long could he survive when the academy itself was watching?