[Debug Item] World's Line Fragment #4
Vel leaned back against the white bedframe of the recovery room, staring at the new entry in his interface. He mentally switched between each section of the interface, searching for anything that might explain what had poured out of him in the arena.
Tomas had somehow fallen asleep the moment the nurse stepped out. His soft snoring drifted from two beds down, steady as a metronome.
Dusk pressed through the infirmary windows, its amber light falling in long, slanted curtains across the rows of empty beds. Celia sat on the bed beside his, just beyond that slope of light, her silhouette half-gilded by the fading sun.
If Vel had turned sooner, he would've noticed she'd been watching him for a while now.
"What is it?" Vel dismissed the interface and glanced over.
Celia blinked, as though pulled from her own thoughts. "Nothing, really. I keep thinking back to how the nurse treated us. And that official who escorted us here."
She didn't elaborate. Her eyes stayed on him, patient, expectant, as if she was waiting for something else entirely.
"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine too," she added softly.
Vel exhaled. How could he even begin to explain? He barely understood it himself.
"What exactly did you see?" he asked instead.
"Not much." Celia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "The charm knocked me out for a few seconds. By the time I came to, I only caught what happened to Severin after."
Vel turned toward the windows opposite him, his gaze drifting past the glass and into the bruised sky beyond. Not much could really explain what happened. Only fragments of the vision, scattered and incomplete, that he was still trying to piece together.
Vel closed his eyes and rested his head back. Then a memory surfaced from somewhere he'd almost forgotten was there. Not even a flavor text. It was something he'd thought about putting into the game but never got the chance to. Primal Tongue: a language spoken by the ancients, developed to communicate directly with the Primordials themselves.
A language that shouldn't exist, let alone manifest, outside his head.
When he turned back, Celia had joined his gaze toward the window. The last of the sunlight carved her profile in gold.
"Celia," he said quietly. "I think I might've messed up big time."
She tilted her head, brow creasing. "What do you mean? We won the match. Is that a bad thing?"
"No..." Vel glanced toward the door, making sure no one lingered in the corridor. "I just have this feeling. Something's happening that I can't explain."
"Well, whatever it is," Celia said, her tone shifting. "Don't you dare exclude me from it."
"If it only concerns me, I should face it alone. It's safer that way."
"Safe?" Celia's brow shot up. "What do you mean, safe? And who gets to decide that? We're a team."
She planted both hands on her hips and leaned forward, closer, a lot closer, trying her best to look intimidating.
"It's not fair if you make decisions like that by yourself." Her voice dropped, but didn't soften. "What about your family, huh?"
Vel found himself staring into her eyes. The point she made came too close to home. Clara. Her sister, who'd made that same kind of decision years ago and never came back.
"Alright. You made your point."
"Good."
Celia dropped back down onto the bed with a huff. "I can't wait for them to discharge us. I need to get out of this uniform."
Vel looked down at his clasped hands, remembering Celia rushing toward him during the match, throwing herself in front of Severin's fire serpent to cover him. She would do anything to protect him, and that frightened him more than any danger to himself.
"One to talk."
"What?"
"Nothing." He smiled.
---
[The following day...]
Vel stood at the steps leading into the main corridor of the Academy.
Students stood among the hall in clusters like usual, conversations flowing between them in low, comfortable tones.
But the moment he stepped toward the entrance, the first group noticed him. One nudged the other, who glanced over and tapped the shoulder of the person beside them. Like a chain reaction, the signal passed from group to group down the corridor.
Conversations stopped.
A group that had been standing in the middle of the hall suddenly shifted to the side, clearing a path no one had asked for.
The moment he made eye contact with anyone, they looked away. Some turned to their friends mid-sentence, pretending they'd been talking the whole time. Others dropped their gaze to the floor as if being associated with him would bring adversity.
Vel had gotten used to the attention the tournament brought. The stares, the whispers, the occasional jab about Clouded students. But this was something else. No sneers. No mocking shouts. Just fear.
He drew a deep breath and walked through.
The silence was heavy enough that the whispers carried without effort.
"If anyone asks, just say you don't know him."
"Who knows what the Thornwood family would do."
"Unstable or not, that spell was too dangerous for a duel."
"Shouldn't he be disqualified? I'm sure the rules say something about that."
He'd have preferred the mockery.
Vel was halfway across the corridor when a wall of uniforms blocked his path. Four students from the elite class stepped forward, shoulder to shoulder, their expressions carrying none of the fear the others wore. Only anger.
The one at the center, tall, broad-shouldered, the elite patch stark on his uniform, planted himself directly in Vel's way.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Vel stopped.
"How dare you use an illegal spell against our friend." He paused, letting the weight of it settle. "A noble member, no less."
Illegal? Vel almost responded, but swallowed the word before it could leave his mouth. Escalating here wouldn't help anyone.
"Thornwood's still under heavy care because of you," the one on the left added, stepping closer. "If he doesn't recover fully, this won't end with a tournament ruling."
The leader leaned in, his voice dropping. "Don't think we'll be afraid of you just because of some unknown spell." His lip curled. "And don't think you're safe just because you've got someone on your back. We know where you live. Your little friends. Even that servant girl who follows you around."
Vel's hand curled into a fist at his side.
"Leave my friends out of this." The words came out low, steady. "This doesn't involve them."
The leader opened his mouth to respond, but footsteps echoed from the adjacent hallway, a group of instructors rounding the corner. The four of them noticed at the same time, their postures loosening as they shifted apart, suddenly finding other places to look.
Vel didn't wait. He slipped through the gap and turned down a side corridor leading toward the Archmagister's office.
Celia and Tomas were already there, standing in a quiet corner where the foot traffic thinned.
"You two were summoned too?" Vel asked.
They both nodded.
"Any idea what she wants?"
Shakes.
"M-maybe we violated the rules," Tomas muttered, tugging at his sleeve. "Or... they're going to disqualify us because—" He glanced at Vel, and for a brief moment, his eyes carried the same look as the students back in the hall. He looked away. "—you know, unstable students aren't supposed to make it this far."
Vel's hand clenched at his side, but Tomas shuffled forward first, muttering something under his breath about being late. The small, familiar gesture loosened something in Vel's chest. He exhaled and followed.
The three walked together in silence. As they neared the Archmagister's wing, the Academy's usual stone corridors gave way to red drapes, evenly spaced pillars on both sides, and a wide corridor that funneled toward a single set of large double doors at the far end.
Beyond that double doors lay the Academy's banquet hall, reserved for ceremonies and formal gatherings. Their destination was above it.
A circular platform etched with luminescent runes waited before the doors, an elevator similar to the one in the Artifex building. It hummed to life the moment they stepped on, rising smoothly through a vertical shaft until they emerged into a quiet hallway lined with polished wood panels.
Instructor Lyvenna stood in front of the Archmagister's office, with perfect posture, though Vel noticed how tightly her hands were clasped behind her back.
"Instructor," Vel greeted with a respectful nod.
Lyvenna's usual confident demeanor seemed diminished. Her eyes darted briefly to the door before returning to Vel. She looked less like she'd been waiting for them and more like she'd been waiting for that door to open.
Before either side could exchange a proper greeting, the Archmagister's door swung open from the inside.
Two men stepped out. The first wore layered robes of gold and white, the Church's embroidery unmistakable along his sleeves and collar. The second carried himself with the stiff posture of nobility, a House crest displayed prominently on his vest.
Whatever discussion they'd just finished, it hadn't ended well. Neither spoke. The churchman's jaw was tight. The noble's expression was carefully blank, the kind of blank that took effort to maintain.
Their eyes passed over Vel and his group without acknowledgment as they swept past and disappeared down the corridor.
Vel exchanged a concerned glance with Celia.
The door remained open. A moment later, Archmagister Elyssia appeared in the doorway.
"Come within," she said, gesturing them forward with a graceful motion of her hand.
Lyvenna stepped in first. Vel followed with Tomas and Celia close behind.
The inner office was far larger than he'd expected. A vast circular room capped by a domed ceiling, with bookshelves lining the curved walls, some reaching as high as the stone itself. The air carried the scent of polished leather, aged paper, and a faint trace of sandalwood. At the far end, a massive desk of polished redwood sat aligned behind a row of tall windows framed in ornate carvings. This wasn't a room built for students.
But what drew Vel's eyes was the large dipyramid crystal floating beneath the dome, glowing with inner light. An elaborate framework of gleaming gold orbited around it while the crystal itself rotated slowly within. His interface flickered the moment he looked at it.
"Have a seat," Archmagister Elyssia indicated a cluster of chairs arranged to the side of the carpeted path, angled to face the desk.
Vel lowered himself into one, noting how the cushions adjusted to his form. Celia sat beside him, her back rigid with tension. Tomas perched on the edge of his chair as if ready to bolt, while Lyvenna took her seat with practiced composure that didn't quite mask her unease.
The Archmagister settled behind her desk, arranging her robes with deliberate movements. She said nothing at first, allowing the heavy silence to build. Vel fought the urge to fill it with nervous chatter.
The Archmagister finally broke the silence, her fingertips coming together to form a steeple as she leaned forward.
"Your team has caused quite a stir, Mister Novalance." Her voice carried the refined accent of Lona's upper echelons. "And I didn't mean just from the tournament."
Vel maintained a neutral expression despite the sudden acceleration of his heartbeat. Of everything she could have opened with, the first thing she addressed was him.
"According to Instructor Lyvenna's report I requested yesterday..." Archmagister Elyssia's gaze flicked briefly to Lyvenna before returning to Vel with unsettling intensity. "You possess knowledge unknown to us all, touching the concept of chaos magic."
Vel shifted slightly in his chair. He'd known introducing chaos theory would draw attention eventually, but hearing it listed right after he'd nearly killed a student didn't exactly frame it favorably.
"Your connection with Saint Landre." She ticked off another point with a slight movement of her finger.
Of course his sister's position would be noted. He'd tried to downplay it, but Landre's visit had made that impossible.
Elyssia threw a glance at Lyvenna, brief but pointed, then returned to Vel. "Your teaming up with Miss Freznoria caused quite... heated debate within the instructor boards."
Beside him, Celia tensed. Vel resisted the urge to look at her.
"And even today..." The Archmagister's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him. She reached for a scroll bearing the Church's seal. "The Church sent you a message."
A message from the Church? Is it about Landre? Did something happen after her confrontation with Alukah?
Archmagister Elyssia leaned back in her chair. "Am I to assume you won't be stopping anytime soon?"
She had listed everything so matter-of-factly despite Vel's attempts to stay hidden. The way she said it made his efforts seem laughably transparent. Had he even been trying? Every move he'd made to remain inconspicuous had somehow drawn more attention.
Vel watched with growing unease as the Archmagister rose from behind her desk and walked closer. Rather than returning to her seat, she sat next to Instructor Lyvenna, directly opposite him.
At this distance, Vel could see her features more clearly. She appeared much younger than he'd initially thought, the formal robes and authoritative demeanor having added years to her appearance. A small mole sat on the right of her chin, the kind of detail one would never catch without sitting this close.
"Young Thornwood hasn't fully recovered," she said, her tone measured but with an undercurrent of tension. "His father was furious, demanding to escalate the situation."
Vel swallowed hard. "W-what did he say?" The words came out before he could stop them.
The Archmagister exhaled sharply. "What more could he say?" A pause. "Though I may hold him at bay for a season, there is no telling what course he might take should his cherished son not mend." She straightened. "Yet this alone I shall say. They did all consent to the peril when first they entered the contest. Even when they bound themselves to the Academy."
Vel appreciated the gesture. She probably had no reason to protect someone like him.
"But what I want to know is..." Her expression suddenly shifted, transforming from administrative detachment to intense curiosity. She leaned forward, placing her hands flat on the table between them.
"How did you do it?" she said calmly. "What kind of spell did you use?"
"That spell bore strength enough to pierce the protective charm." She paused. "A ward devised and enchanted by mine own hand." She let that settle. "Few within this kingdom could achieve such a feat."
Vel blinked. He hadn't considered that. The charms were Elyssia's work, the highest magical authority at the Academy. If his spell had overwhelmed her enchantment, the implications went far beyond a tournament upset.
"I... it wasn't intentional," Vel stammered, his throat suddenly dry. "The spell misfired when I tried to protect myself. The chaos element must have interfered with the normal formation..."
The words sounded hollow even to his own ears. The Archmagister's expression didn't change, but her eyes narrowed slightly. She clearly wasn't convinced by his explanation.
"A misfire?" She repeated the word with delicate emphasis. "In all my years studying magic, I've never encountered a spell that misfired to become more powerful." She tapped her fingers against the armrest. "There's a reason for that."
Her tone shifted, still calm, but the weight behind it changed. "And if a mere student can prove such wards incompetent, how do you think the public views the safety of this event?" She let the question hang. "Some are already suggesting the tournament be stopped. Others wish it suspended until further measures are developed."
Vel felt the air leave his lungs.
And only now did it hit him how narrow his view had been. His spell hadn't just hurt Severin. It had shaken the Academy's credibility. If he was responsible for the tournament's suspension, it wouldn't just be the unstable students who'd pay the price.
I need to tread carefully. If this spirals, it won't just be me who pays for it.
His fingers pressed into his knees.
People fear what they don't understand.
One wrong move, and people stop seeing the unstable as inferior...
...and start seeing them as dangerous.
Vel blinked back to the room.
And she was right about the spell itself. Magic didn't misfire upward. It either held its form or collapsed. It didn't spontaneously evolve into something greater.
Whatever explanation I give, it has to account for that.
His palms were slick. He glanced at Celia, concern and curiosity warring across her face. Tomas sat rigid, lost.
Lyvenna's gaze hadn't left him, sharp and analytical, as if she were running her own assessment alongside the Archmagister's.
"I don't have a proper explanation," Vel admitted, choosing his words carefully. "It felt like... something else was there."
But that was the best he could do at the moment. Better to say less than risk causing more trouble.
The Archmagister studied him for a long moment, her eyes seeming to peer straight through his carefully constructed facade. Then, unexpectedly, her expression softened.
"Very well," Elyssia said, apparently deciding to stop pushing. She leaned back in her chair again.
"Whatsoever it be, the time shall come when it may no longer be concealed." The words carried a strange weight, as if she could foretell what would happen based on experience alone.
Vel felt a chill run down his spine. Even if he wanted to course-correct now, it was already too late for that. He'd passed the point where turning back was still an option.
"Just make sure you don't kill anyone in the coming match."
Vel kept silent. He wasn't sure he could make that promise.
"Now..." Her gaze moved to Tomas and Instructor Lyvenna. "We need to discuss another matter."
The atmosphere in the room changed, growing heavier. Vel noticed how Lyvenna's shoulders tensed slightly.
"Did you know you were supposed to be the last of the unstable?" Elyssia asked, her tone carefully neutral.
"What do you mean?" Tomas blurted out, his earlier nerves forgotten. The words left him before he could remember who he was speaking to.
The Archmagister tilted her head to the side, resting it against her knuckle. "Academy teaching is not static. We change our approach every cycle, become better." Her eyes fixed on the patch on their uniforms. "This cycle, the board has decided to stop taking in the 'Clouded'."
"Why?"
"They—" Elyssia caught herself, a brief pause. "We wished to focus our resources better for those deemed capable. Letting unstable casters follow this path has been proving... ill-suited." Her voice softened slightly. "And I don't mean this in a condescending way. It was for their own safety."
Vel's chest tightened as the implications sank in. He glanced at Lyvenna, who sat unnaturally still.
"Lyvenna was our last instructor," Elyssia continued.
Tomas jerked in his chair. Celia inhaled sharply. Vel felt his hands curl into fists.
Elyssia let the silence hold for a beat. "I said 'was'."
Vel felt his muscles unclench as understanding dawned.
"Your theory about chaos magic," Elyssia continued, nodding toward Vel, "combined with Mister Mardin's impressive performance in the tournament, has set the board in great agitation."
Tomas straightened in his chair, his usual nervous demeanor giving way to cautious hope.
"Most of them are reconsidering their stance," the Archmagister said, her lips curving into a slight smile. "Though Instructor Caldwen and a few others remain... skeptical."
Vel noticed how she diplomatically avoided using stronger words to describe the opposition. He'd witnessed enough of Caldwen's attitude toward non-traditional students to fill in the blanks.
"If your research proves correct..." Elyssia's gaze swept across their small group before settling on Instructor Lyvenna. "We could be witnessing the start of a revolution in magical understanding. And you," she emphasized with a gesture that encompassed them all, "would be at the forefront of that change."
Instructor Lyvenna's posture shifted subtly, pride replacing her earlier tension. "The unstable... no, the Chaos-attuned students have already demonstrated remarkable progress," she said, her voice carrying newfound confidence. "With proper support and understanding, there's no telling what they might achieve."
The Archmagister nodded approvingly. "Which is why your role as their instructor is more crucial than ever. And we must write a full paper article for the Arcane Council."
"But that would need some time—" Lyvenna responded, a slight note of panic slipping into her voice. "Perhaps after the tournament concludes, I could—"
Vel's attention shifted as the Archmagister mentioned the paper, but his eyes caught something else entirely. There, partially visible beneath a stack of papers on her desk, was an unmistakable pattern, the same cult symbol he'd seen on Trinon and the robed figure in the city.
His heart skipped a beat. "Where did you find this symbol?" The words burst from him before he could stop himself.
Elyssia's expression sharpened. "You know of it?" She extended her palm toward the desk. A small magic circle hovered an inch from her hand, and the paper slid from beneath the stack, gliding through the air into her grasp. The complete design lay bare, a circular pattern of interwoven lines forming what looked like a twisted eye.
"I've... encountered it before," Vel said carefully, conscious of Celia tensing beside him. They both remembered the Ossuary incident all too well.
Her gaze swept across the group, starting from Vel. "Interesting. This symbol appeared in several locations around the Academy grounds recently. The guards found it carved into trees, drawn in chalk on walls." Her eyes settled on Lyvenna. "None of my experts could identify its origin."
"When exactly did these markings start appearing?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"None can tell," Elyssia replied. "They were but lately brought to our notice, two weeks past." She set the paper down. "We traced the markings to a band of miscreants within the city. Yet upon capture, they proved to be naught but frauds, borrowing a symbol they scarcely understood to lend themselves an air of menace."
Frauds? That meant whoever was actually behind the symbol was still out there, and the investigation had likely stopped at the impostors.
"But we're getting sidetracked," Elyssia said, sliding a sealed letter across her desk. "Here's the message from your sister."
Vel's fingers closed around Landre's letter as he rose from his chair. The Archmagister's dismissal hung in the air: "Now go and rest. Team Aetherwind won their match after yours. I expect a fair competition from both sides in a few days."
The weight of everything discussed pressed against Vel's thoughts as they filed out of the office. Elyssia held Lyvenna back with a gentle gesture. "Instructor, I have a matter of import that requires discussion. Also, the approach for the full paper regarding the Chaos attunement findings."
The door closed behind them with a soft click.
None of them spoke on the way down. Vel's mind churned through the meeting, the Archmagister's questions, the cult symbol on her desk, Lyvenna being held back. Each detail fed into the next without resolution.
"Vel?" Celia's voice cut through. "You've been staring at that letter since we left."
He blinked, realizing they'd reached the courtyard. He hadn't even noticed the journey here. The sealed letter from Landre sat unopened in his hand. Maybe part of him was afraid of what it contained. Not bad news, but confirmation. If the vision about Landre was correct, then everything else he saw in it was too.
[Ch38 1/3]