Lucian couldn't sleep.
His body ached from the duel with Kael, but it wasn't the pain that kept him awake. It was the feeling—deep in his chest—that something inside him was stirring. Something he couldn't explain.
He sat up in bed, staring out the dormitory window. Aetherreach glowed under the moonlight, silver trees swaying in the breeze, the floating obelisk pulsing faintly in the distance.
He needed air.
Throwing on his cloak, Lucian slipped out of the dorms and made his way to the edge of campus, where the forest thickened. A path curved into the woods—used mainly for survival training later in the year. Now, it was silent.
Lucian stepped beneath the trees and let the night air cool his thoughts.
He didn't know how long he walked until he heard it.
A scream.
Sharp. Young. Terrified.
Lucian's body moved before he could think. He sprinted toward the sound, leaping over roots, pushing through brush—until he found them.
Three boys. First-year students. Surrounded by low beasts—wyrmjackals, hounds with molten eyes and cracked earth-like hides. They had wandered too deep and triggered a wild nest. One of the boys had a bleeding arm; the other two trembled, unable to conjure their Sigils.
Lucian didn't hesitate. He threw his hands forward and sent a gust to scatter the jackals—but the largest one resisted, charging straight through the wind and lunging.
Lucian leapt between it and the children.
The beast's claws raked across his shoulder—he screamed in pain—and it knocked him back into a tree with a thud.
Everything blurred.
His blood hit the roots. His cloak tore open. His back burned.
Wings flickered.
The jackal snarled, preparing to lunge again.
And then—it happened.
Lucian's vision darkened, his breath shallow. A memory flickered.
Why was I born different?
Why do they look at me like I'm cursed?
I just wanted to help…
The ground rumbled.
The air cracked.
Something inside him snapped.
Flames surged from Lucian's palm, uncalled for. A torrent of fire exploded from his hand, incinerating the jackal mid-leap. The other beasts howled and tried to flee—but the ground beneath them split apart, jagged earth erupting like blades from the soil, stopping them in their tracks.
Lucian stood up slowly, flames dancing on one arm, veins glowing faintly gold beneath his skin.
The boys stared, speechless.
He didn't speak.
He was just as shocked as they were.
The fire and earth faded as quickly as they came, leaving scorched roots and shaking leaves. Lucian's knees buckled, but he remained standing.
"Instructor…" one of the boys mumbled. "We… we need to tell someone."
"No," Lucian said softly, holding out a hand. "You're safe now. That's what matters."
But even as they nodded and turned to leave, he stared at his hands.
Fire… earth… wind. Three elements. That shouldn't be possible. Not for anyone. Not even prodigies.
He clenched his fists.
Was his Sigil broken?
Or was it something else entirely?
Later that night, in a shadowed chamber beneath Aetherreach, two robed figures stood over a glowing crystal mirror.
One of them adjusted the image of Lucian, flame in hand, his cloak fluttering behind him.
"So… the anomaly finally flared," the first said.
The second figure remained silent for a long moment before speaking.
"…We need to inform the Headmaster. The boy is not just any Syntari."