Alaric left the archives long after midnight, his hands trembling, the words still burned into his thoughts:
"The Dual Vessel is not their prey… but their king."
The torchlight of the empty corridors felt colder than usual. Every shadow along the walls seemed to lean toward him, as though listening for his next breath.
He told no one of what he had read, not even Clem. But by morning, the weight of the discovery pressed so heavily on him that silence became unbearable.
When the others dispersed for training drills, he sought out Master Kael.
The instructor was in the inner courtyard, his sword slicing through the air in silent practice. The blade, forged of shadow, hummed with restrained menace. Kael didn't stop when Alaric approached; he only spoke in his low, unreadable voice.
"You shouldn't be here."
"I read the archives," Alaric said quietly.
That made Kael pause. Slowly, he lowered his sword and turned. His dark eyes studied Alaric with the weight of someone who had expected this moment — and dreaded it.
"What did you find?"
Alaric swallowed. "The name Draven. A man who bore both light and shadow. The Hollow Ones bowed to him, just as they do to me. He was… my blood."
For a long silence, Kael said nothing. Then, with a faint sigh, he sheathed his blade.
"Eryndor Draven," Kael said. "A name the Academy erased from its histories. He was not merely a vessel. He was a sovereign force — too dangerous to live, too powerful to kill. Some believed he merged with the Hollow Ones themselves, becoming their guide. Others…" Kael's lips curled faintly, "…believed he became their king."
The words echoed in Alaric's chest. "So it's true. I was never just a vessel. This was never an accident."
Kael's gaze sharpened. "You've stepped into a path you cannot leave, Alaric. The Hollow Ones bow because you are bound to their blood. Whether you will rule them, or be devoured by them — that choice is not yet made."
Alaric's hands clenched. "Then teach me. If anyone can help me control this, it's you."
Kael studied him for a moment, then nodded once. "Very well. But secrecy is survival. If the council learns what you uncovered, they will not train you. They will bind you. Perhaps destroy you."
A chill threaded down Alaric's spine. He knew Kael spoke truth.
But neither of them realized they had been overheard.
From the shadows of the colonnade, Elara stood frozen, her silver hair catching faint light. Her icy eyes betrayed no emotion, but her clenched fists told another story. She had heard enough to understand.
That evening, as the sun dipped red behind the Academy walls, the council convened in hushed tones. Elara's voice carried steady and calm as she stood before them.
"Alaric Draven is not what he claims. He is tied to the Hollow Ones. He is their heir."
The chamber darkened with unease. The Headmaster leaned forward, his expression grim. "If this is true, then he is not a student. He is a threat to the kingdom itself."
When Alaric returned to his quarters, Clem greeted him with an unusual tension in her eyes. "The council called for you," she whispered. "Something's wrong, Alaric. They looked… afraid."
Alaric's pulse quickened. He had only just begun to understand his legacy, and already, the Academy's walls were closing in.
The whispers slithered in his mind, sharper than ever.
"…Choose… Vessel… or be chosen…"
And this time, he could not tell whether the voices belonged to the Hollow Ones — or the council that now weighed his fate.