The news that Kayian Wellstream had become the personal student of Rector Verius spread through the Academy faster than any magical wind. By noon, it was being discussed in every corridor, every dining hall, every training room.
"The one who surrendered in the final?" students whispered. "Two first‑rank schools? Why would the Rector choose him?"
"They say he knows something about the Council. Or he has connections."
"Connections? The Wellstreams? Their House is barely holding on. That's not connections—that's luck."
Kayian heard these voices but paid them no attention. He sat on a bench in the Academy courtyard, waiting for his first lesson with the Rector. Selena sat beside him, still pale after the morning's events.
"Are you sure it was worth it?" she asked quietly. "Now everyone is watching you. Even more than they were watching me."
"That was the point," Kayian replied, gazing at the falling snow. "Now their attention is divided. You are safe, and I am where I can influence events."
"But your brother…" Selena hesitated. "I saw him today. He was furious."
Kayian smiled. He knew. The system registered changes every time Damian came into view.
[Damian Wellstream: Loyalty reduced to 19. Envy +15. Anger +20. Planning public humiliation of brother.]
"Let him be angry," Kayian said. "His emotions will make him careless."
He stood, brushing snow from his shoulders.
"I have to go. My first lesson with the Rector. Don't wait for me for dinner."
Selena nodded, but when he had taken a few steps, she called out:
"Kayian!"
He turned.
"Be careful," she said. "Rector Verius is not just a teacher. He is an Archon. People like that do not take students for no reason. He has his own purpose."
"I know," Kayian replied. "But I have my purpose too."
He walked toward the Archons' Tower, feeling the stares of students on him. Some looked curious, others envious, still others openly hostile.
In the tower, he was expected. The guard who had turned him away that morning now opened the door with a low bow.
"The Rector awaits you on the top floor, Lord Wellstream."
Kayian climbed the spiral staircase. Verius's office was open. The Rector stood by the window, his back to the door. On the desk lay two objects: a black Shadow crystal and a yellow Lightning crystal.
"You have come," Verius said without turning. "Close the door."
Kayian obeyed and stood before the desk.
"Today I want to see what you are truly capable of," the Rector continued, turning around. "Not the mask you showed during the entrance exams. Not the game of the weak student. Your true power."
"I did not hide my power," Kayian replied evenly. "My Shadow and Lightning schools are indeed first‑rank."
"And the third school?" Verius narrowed his eyes. "The one you conceal so carefully. I sense it. It is deep, ancient, and… forbidden."
Kayian was silent. He knew this would happen sooner or later. Verius was too powerful a mage not to notice Blood magic. The question was whether to admit it or continue to deny it.
"I do not use it," he said finally.
"But you possess it." Verius did not relent. "And judging by the depth of the trace, you have used it before. Many times."
Kayian looked the Rector in the eye. At that moment, the system issued a warning:
[Attention! Attempt at mental scanning detected. Source: Archon Verius, Spirit school (unknown rank). Defense activation advised.]
"You are testing me," Kayian said calmly, activating Shadow magic to shield his mind. "I am not your enemy, Rector. Nor am I an enemy of the Academy."
For a moment, surprise flickered across Verius's face. His scan encountered a barrier—not a strong one, but flexible, like a wall of living mist.
"Interesting," he said, stepping back. "A first‑rank Shadow defense should not block an Archon's mental impulse. Again, you show more than you should."
"Perhaps I am simply a good student," Kayian replied.
"Perhaps." Verius smiled. "Very well. I will not try to penetrate your secrets. But you promised to show your abilities when you were ready. I am willing to wait, but not forever."
He slid the two crystals toward Kayian.
"These are training artifacts. Shadow and Lightning. I want you to use them simultaneously—create an image inside the Shadow crystal while charging the Lightning crystal at the same time. This will test your concentration and multitasking."
Kayian took the crystals. One was cold, the other warm, pulsing with energy. He closed his eyes and began to work.
The image for Shadow: a crow. The same as in the lesson. But now he had to make it sharper, more three‑dimensional. At the same time, he channeled Lightning into the second crystal, careful not to overload it.
At first, nothing worked. As soon as he focused on Shadow, the discharge in the Lightning crystal weakened. As soon as he strengthened the Lightning, the crow's image blurred.
"Too slow," Verius commented. "In battle, you will not have time to switch."
Kayian clenched his teeth. He knew he could do better. Much better. If he used Blood magic to enhance his concentration, he could succeed in seconds. But he could not. Not here. Not before the Rector.
He tried again. And again. Sweat beaded on his forehead. The crystals trembled but would not yield the desired result.
"Perhaps you have overestimated yourself," Verius remarked dryly.
Kayian opened his eyes. Anger simmered inside him—at himself, at his limitations, at the need to hide.
No, he told himself. I will not lose on the very first lesson.
He took a deep breath and let Blood magic seep into him. Just a little—on the edge of perception. It was enough to clear his mind and give his fingers the precision they needed.
The crow's image formed in an instant—sharp, three‑dimensional, almost alive. At the same time, the Lightning crystal blazed with an even yellow light, accepting exactly as much energy as required.
Kayian opened his eyes and placed the crystals on the desk.
Verius looked at them, then at Kayian. His face was unreadable.
"You used something," he said slowly. "Something that enhanced you for a fraction of a second. What was it?"
"Concentration," Kayian replied, feeling the Blood magic recede, leaving behind a faint weakness. "Simply concentration."
Verius stepped closer. Kayian did not retreat.
"There is something about you I cannot understand," the Rector said. "Something that does not fit within the bounds of ordinary magic. But you are right—I gave my word not to interrogate you. For now."
He took a parchment from the desk and handed it to Kayian.
"This is the schedule for your individual lessons. Three times a week, after your regular lectures. I will not teach you magic—I will teach you to understand its nature. Everything else, you will have to master on your own."
Kayian took the parchment. Only a few lines were written on it, but they made his heart beat faster:
Lesson 1: The Nature of Magic. The Boundaries of Reality.
Lesson 2: The Keepers of Time. A History of Interventions.
Lesson 3: Forbidden Schools. Why They Are Forbidden.
The Rector knew. Or suspected. And he intended to force Kayian into the open through knowledge.
"Thank you," Kayian said, tucking the parchment away.
"Do not thank me." Verius returned to the window. "I am not doing this out of kindness. If you are indeed connected to the Keepers, if your knowledge of the future is real—you may become either the Academy's salvation or its ruin. I want to understand what to prepare for."
Kayian bowed silently and left.
In the corridor, he leaned against the wall and caught his breath. The first lesson was behind him. The Rector knew about the Blood magic but was not pressing. He knew about the Keepers and the possibility of future knowledge. He was dangerous. But for now, he was an ally.
Kayian looked at the parchment. Three lessons. Three steps toward revealing the truth.
I have time, he thought. Time to prepare. Time to find answers before he asks his questions.
He descended and left the tower. The snow had stopped, and sunlight broke through the clouds, illuminating the white walls of the Academy.
In the distance, he saw Damian. His brother stood at the entrance to the main building, surrounded by his cronies. Spotting Kayian, he said something to his companions, and they laughed.
Kayian walked toward them. His heart pounded, but his steps were steady.
"Brother," Damian said as Kayian approached. "I hear you are now the Rector's favorite. Congratulations. I hope you do not disgrace our family as you did in the final."
"I will not," Kayian replied, stopping before him. "And you, brother? How are your studies? I hear you failed your Earth test. For the second time this week."
Damian went pale. His cronies stopped laughing.
"How do you—"
"I have good sources." Kayian smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes. "Be careful, brother. The family's reputation depends on both of us."
He turned and walked away, feeling Damian's burning gaze on his back.
The system gave a soft chime:
[Damian Wellstream: Loyalty reduced to 12. Emotional state: rage, fear. Probability of aggressive action in the near future: high.]
Kayian quickened his pace. Let my brother be angry. Let him make mistakes. Every mistake he makes brings closer the moment when I can destroy him without lifting a finger.
He exited the Academy gates, where the carriage was waiting. Inside, a surprise awaited him—on the seat lay a black feather.
Kayian picked it up. Unlike the last one, this feather was warm.
"Crow," he said into the emptiness. "What now?"
There was no answer. But on the inner side of the feather, he noticed faint words written in silvery light:
"You have taken the first step. But now you are watched not only by men. Beware those who live between moments. They already know your name."
Kayian clenched the feather in his fist. Between moments. The Keepers of Time. They are already here.
The carriage began to move, carrying him back to the manor where another enemy awaited—Damian. And somewhere in the shadows waited those he had not yet seen.
The war had only begun.