Kael simply wanted to escape the noise.
The Academy's Grand Entrance Ceremony had just ended, and with it came the usual barrage of noisy nobles, self-important instructors, and the faint smell of imported perfume and roasted griffin meat. As expected, the place was as dramatic as a royal war declaration. Sighing, Kael slipped through the side halls of the Main Tower, looking for any quiet room to nap in.
His thoughts were simple: Find a door. Enter room. Sleep.
Of course, life never followed his plan.
The ancient corridor he entered hadn't seen students in years. Dimly lit by flickering mana crystals, the walls were cracked with age, covered in faded banners and dust. He sneezed once. Loudly.
"Stupid noble rituals... even their dust is dramatic," he muttered.
At the far end of the hall, tucked between a forgotten stairwell and a crooked suit of enchanted armor, sat a small black door. Plain. Unmarked. Silent.
Kael paused.
It didn't scream importance. Which was perfect.
He pushed it. Locked.
"Hmph. Figures."
As he turned to leave, his foot kicked something small and metallic beneath the old carpet. He reached down and pulled out a strange black token, no larger than a coin, with a symbol etched on it: a spiral of wings wrapping around an open eye.
"Cool," Kael said flatly. He flipped it once, caught it, and tossed it in his pocket without thinking. When he turned back to the door, it clicked.
Unlocked.
He blinked. "...Okay. Sure."
The door opened without a creak, revealing a staircase spiraling downward into darkness. Not ominous at all. And still, it looked peaceful. Underground often meant colder air. Quiet. Maybe even a couch.
Kael descended.
---
He didn't know this staircase hadn't been opened in decades. He didn't know that token bore a forgotten mark used only by a mysterious organization that moves silently through the world. He didn't know the door only opened to those considered significant.
All he knew was his legs hurt, and he wanted a break.
---
At the bottom was a vast, circular chamber. Stone benches formed a ring around a black platform in the center. The air shimmered faintly with residual mana. It looked... important. Ancient. Ritualistic.
Kael yawned.
"Huh. No couch."
A sound echoed from above. Footsteps.
Kael turned. A man was descending.
Old. Hunched. Wearing servant robes. But something in his eyes flickered with unnatural sharpness. The old man bowed deeply.
"You have answered the Summon. As expected of one marked by silence."
Kael raised a brow. "I just wanted to nap."
The man didn't flinch. "Of course. Wisdom takes the form of simplicity."
Kael: "...What?"
The old man produced a scroll. A crest matching Kael's token gleamed on its seal. "The Trial of the Spiral Eye will begin soon. Prepare yourself."
Kael scratched his head. "Nah, I'm good. Just looking for a bed."
The man smiled. "We all seek rest. But silence carries meaning."
Kael: What kind of philosophical janitor is this...?
---
Back at the surface, in a hidden office within the Academy's west wing, a cloaked figure inked a fresh page into a forgotten tome:
> Subject #0001: Kael Drayke. Mark Activated. Door Accepted. Trial Initiated. Behavior consistent with long-observed patterns.
The figure whispered: "The one has moved. The world tilts."
---
Kael climbed out of the stairwell half an hour later, still yawning.
"Creepy dungeon. Weird old guy. Still no bed."
He stepped into the light, unaware that shadows had started following him from that moment on.
Not with malice. Not with fear.
But with purpose.