The sun rose with a red hue, casting a warm glow over the training grounds of Aetherreach Academy. Today was the first combat assessment—and the tension in the air was unmistakable.
Lucian joined his classmates in the outer coliseum, a circular arena of glowing glyphs and hovering platforms. Magical energy pulsed through the stone floor like veins of light, fed by the obelisk floating high above.
"In battle, control is everything," Instructor Veyra called out, her eyes scanning the group. "If you cannot use your Sigil with precision, you are a danger—to others, and to yourself."
Around Lucian, other students buzzed with excitement. He spotted the smug red-eyed boy from yesterday—Kael Dravarn, a known descendant of a noble Pyros bloodline. Fire flickered at his fingertips as he sparred lazily with a partner.
Another caught Lucian's attention too—the water-user girl who had approached him before. She trained silently at the far edge of the grounds, shaping tendrils of water into blades that shimmered like glass. Her name was Irynn Velis, and unlike the others, she hadn't laughed when Lucian was mocked.
Lucian kept to himself, practicing in the air near a low dueling platform. He created whirlwinds small enough to lift stones, then redirected them in sharp curves.
Still not enough. He wanted more force, more flow—but he held back. His instincts said his power could surge further, but something told him not to push too far, not yet.
"Zevrik," Veyra called. "Your turn."
Lucian stepped onto the dueling platform. His opponent? Kael Dravarn, grinning like a predator.
"This'll be quick," Kael muttered, stepping into a wide stance. Flames burst from his palm, curling like claws. "Let's see what wind-boy can do."
Lucian said nothing. He raised one hand, and the air shifted.
"Begin!"
Kael moved first, sending a horizontal wave of flame across the platform. Lucian ducked and launched a concentrated gust of wind upward, extinguishing the flames and forcing Kael to stumble back.
He followed up with a swift breeze aimed at Kael's knees—but the noble twisted his hand, producing a spiraling flame vortex that blocked the attack and surged forward.
Lucian widened his stance. Not just push the wind. Shape it. Ride it. He called the wind beneath his feet and leapt into the air, floating for a second before landing behind Kael.
"Behind—?!"
Before Kael could react, Lucian used a controlled blast of wind to knock him forward and off balance, but didn't follow through.
Kael snarled and summoned a stronger burst—one Lucian didn't have time to dodge.
The flames roared toward him.
Instinct flared.
Lucian's wings reacted beneath the cloak—flickering gold.
And in a moment of unconscious control, a radiant gust exploded outward from his back, scattering the fire and blasting Kael across the platform.
Silence.
The students stared. Veyra narrowed her eyes.
Kael groaned from the ground. "What… was that?"
Lucian pulled his cloak tighter over his back. "Just wind," he said quietly.
But he knew they didn't believe it.
And neither did he.
Later that evening, Lucian walked alone through the campus gardens. His limbs were sore, but his mind buzzed.
"You held back," a voice said from the trees.
Lucian turned. Irynn stepped into view, her expression calm, eyes sharp.
"That gust wasn't just wind," she added. "It carried resonance."
Lucian frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She hesitated. "It means… your Sigil might not be what you think it is."
Before he could reply, a bell rang across the academy—announcing the start of training week evaluations. Final rankings would decide their temporary placements for the next two months.
The next phase was approaching.
And somewhere deep within the academy, hidden under stone and crystal, an old force stirred—one that recognized Lucian's power.
And waited.