The room was quiet—too quiet. The faint hum of the crystal device was the only sound, but even that seemed strained, reacting to him as though it sensed something in his presence. A faint scent of burnt mana lingered, sharp in his nose.
Rivan sat up slowly, muscles stiff, mind reeling. The golden light from previous surge still burned behind his eyes, and his hands itched with that same strange warmth. Tiny sparks danced faintly across his fingertips, vanishing before he could grasp them.
Liora stood near the device, her posture tense, yet she pretended nothing had happened. Her black-and-silver uniform caught the light from the window, the edges shimmering faintly as if aware of the energy around him. Her fingers brushed a few stray runes on the table as she adjusted them—small, precise movements.
He swallowed. Did she see it? …Or someone else?
"Rivan," she said sharply, breaking the silence. Her eyes, usually calm and precise, flickered with an unreadable emotion.
"When the surge happened, someone came to this door… called a name. Do you know them?"
Rivan froze. The memory of the shout—a name strange yet eerily familiar—sliced through his thoughts. He blinked, heart thudding.
"No," he said, voice steady, though a knot twisted in his stomach.
Her expression hardened slightly. "Strange. They vanished before we could identify them."
Rivan didn't respond. Questions spun in his mind, but Liora turned back to the crystal device, hiding the faint unease in her movements. A small wisp of golden light leapt from one crystal to another, as if testing him.
The hallway outside felt alive. Whispers skittered along the polished stone, guards' eyes following them with subtle, disciplined scrutiny. The air smelled faintly of parchment and oil from the torches lining the walls.
"This was just a… mana malfunction," Liora said smoothly, though the tight line of her lips betrayed her uncertainty.
Rivan's senses, still raw from previous incident, caught every nuance—the slight hesitation of students passing, the flicker of recognition in their eyes. Someone already knew he was different.
Two students muttered under their breath as they walked past:
"They said someone from the forest survived. That shouldn't be possible."
Rivan's pulse quickened. Forest… survived? He had no idea what they were talking about, but the word "survived" stung. Who would even be looking for me?
They arrived at the assessment chamber, a circular room etched with glowing runes. Crystals floated in precise formation above the floor, spinning slowly as though alive. The faint hum of energy made his teeth tingle.
Instructor Marnell, an older mage with a sharp gaze, stepped forward, his hands moving in practiced gestures.
The crystals reacted violently when he approached, shifting and spinning, forming a bright, star-shaped pattern in midair. Tiny shards of light flickered across the walls, casting moving shadows. The whole chamber trembled with energy.
"That's not possible…" Marnell muttered, stepping back, eyes wide.
Rivan tilted his head. "What's… wrong?"
Liora stepped in, her voice firm but quiet: "It's fine. He's stable."
Marnell's gaze lingered on Rivan, suspicion clear, but he didn't argue. Rivan noticed the brief flash of worry on Liora's face. She's hiding something.
As they left the chamber, Rivan caught a glimpse of a figure at the far end of the corridor. Cloaked, unyielding, face hidden. A pressure pressed against his chest, familiar and disorienting—the same as the voice that had spoken to him during his awakening. His pulse quickened, and the hair on his arms stood on end.
The figure vanished before he could react, leaving only a lingering unease.
Someone's watching… Rivan thought. And they know me.
Back at the dorm, Liora guided him inside. The room was quiet, the sigils faintly glowing in the corners. The air was warm, tinged with faint incense and ozone. She lowered her voice.
"Whatever you did before you woke up, don't do it again. The Academy remembers power… and it never forgets faces."
Rivan nodded, feeling the weight of her words settle on his shoulders. The glow in his veins pulsed faintly under his skin, syncing almost instinctively with the room's sigils.
That night, sleep was uneasy. He dreamt of light again, blinding and warm, and the ancient, distant voice returned:
"They're searching for you, Starborn."
Rivan woke in a cold sweat. The dorm sigils pulsed faintly golden, syncing almost instinctively with his heartbeat. His hands trembled as he realized the truth: even in rest, the Academy—and the world around him—was listening.
"And he knew, deep down, that nothing in this world would ever see him as ordinary again."
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Author's Note:
Hey everyone!
Chapter 2 is here, and things are starting to get a little… mysterious. Rivan's powers are awakening, and not everyone at the Academy seems friendly—or even trustworthy. Keep an eye out for the cloaked figure and those little hints in the background—they'll matter later!
I'd love to hear your thoughts: What do you think the voice meant? Who could be watching Rivan? Drop your guesses in the comments!
As always, thanks for reading and supporting the story—it means a lot. Your saves and votes help the Starborn's journey continue!