The sky above Eldoria was overcast, but Arin felt colder than usual. He couldn't forget the man who appeared at his window — floating, watching. Neither could he ignore the way his mana had surged in the library like a dam finally cracking open.
But no one else seemed to notice the shift.
The next morning, life at the academy resumed like normal. Students laughed, gossiped, and trained. To them, Arin was still the mana-deficient joke. Only a few had seen his improved spellcasting the day before, and most chalked it up to luck. But something had changed — and not just in him.
At lunchtime, Arin sat in the far corner of the dining hall, poking at his stew, when someone slid into the seat opposite him.
A girl.
Sharp gray eyes. Jet-black hair tied into a single braid. Her uniform bore the crest of Class A, the elite tier.
"You're Arin Velstra," she said, not asking — stating.
He blinked. "Yeah… and you are?"
"Lyra Kaen. Top of Class A." She leaned in, eyes unblinking. "I saw your flame spell in Spellcasting. Perfectly shaped rune. Controlled. Stable. That's not normal for someone ranked at the bottom for three years."
Arin's throat tightened. "It was nothing."
"Liar," she said flatly. "You've been hiding something. Or someone's been hiding it from you."
He stiffened.
Before he could reply, a wave of heat rippled through the hall. The air shimmered like a mirage.
Students began coughing and backing away as a sudden fire rune erupted in the center of the hall — cast mid-air, burning gold and red.
A cloaked figure emerged through it.
Not the man from before — but someone like him. Hooded. Pale. With the same blood-red eyes.
Gasps rippled.
"W-What's going on?!"
"Is this part of a class…?!"
No.
The figure pointed at Arin.
"Velstra blood. Come with me… or they will come instead." pointing at the students.
The room froze.
Arin stood slowly, unsure whether to run or fight.
But Lyra was already on her feet beside him.
"We're in a school protected by ten layers of arcane wards," she said. "You're either stupid… or desperate."
The figure's hand glowed with dark magic.
"Then die here."
Before the bolt could fly, a massive gust of wind slammed into the intruder from the side, sending him crashing into a column.
Professor Liora appeared in a blink, her hand raised and glowing with intense light. "All students to the inner corridor. Now!"
The man snarled and vanished in a burst of black flame.
Later that evening, Arin sat in the headmistress's office, surrounded by books, glowing maps, and protective wards.
Professor Liora paced. "This isn't just a fluke, Arin. That mark on your chest — show me."
He hesitated, then pulled down the collar of his robe to reveal the glowing symbol. A blood-red crest, shaped like a crescent blade with wings.
Liora's face darkened.
"I hoped I was wrong. But it's true."
"Is it… a curse?" Arin asked, voice low.
"No," she said. "It's a seal. A bloodline seal. Placed by a dying family to hide their heir."
"Why?"
"Because your bloodline, the Velstra, once ruled the southern realms. Magic born of both light and shadow. But they were hunted down. Wiped out. Feared."
"So… why me?" Arin asked
"You're the last one. And the seal is breaking."
Arin stared at his hands.
"I don't want to be hunted. I didn't ask for this."
"No one does," Liora said quietly. "But now you have a choice. Hide… or learn to fight."
That night, back in his dorm, Arin opened the journal again.
A new sentence had appeared on the final page.
"If they've found you, then the Vault must be opened before they do. But you must survive the trial within. Or die trying."
Arin looked out at the moonlit academy beyond his window.
He made his choice.....