"I've gotten used to the silence…
So why does it feel louder when someone finally says my name?"
That morning, the stones whispered.
Which was weird, because stones aren't supposed to whisper.
They crack. They crumble. They echo when you kick them at the wrong angle and they bounce back into your shin.
But whisper? That was new.
Kael blinked groggily as he sat up in bed, the blanket half-pulled over his shoulder, half-dragged to the floor. Shack #6 creaked above him like a tired beast shifting in its sleep. He ran a hand through his hair and groaned softly.
"Okay… either I didn't sleep, or I'm developing psychosis."
He rubbed at his eyes.
Still there.
That… sound. Like someone dragging a voice through gravel, echoing faintly from beneath the stone tiles. Not quite speech. But definitely a pattern.
Definitely aimed at him.
Not terrifying at all.
He dragged himself out of bed and shuffled toward the door. The moment his bare foot touched the stone floor—
The whisper stopped.
Just cut off. Like someone flipping a switch.
"…Rude."
Outside, the Academy grounds stirred with early chants and elemental rites. Pillars of blue flame spiraled above the Forge Circle, while distant students raced to morning drills, casting sparks of fire and jets of wind as if breakfast just wasn't complete without an explosion.
Kael took a long breath.
Cool air.
Wards humming faintly along the walls.
No one looking at him—because, of course, why would they?
He was the Ashbound. The Brandless.
The one who broke the Mirror and still managed to hang around like mold in the rafters.
He didn't complain. He was getting good at being ignored.
...Even if lately, he was starting to feel like something in the walls wasn't ignoring him.
As he walked toward the lower courtyard, the shadows beneath the stairwells shifted.
Not moved. Shifted.
They bent toward him.
Only slightly.
Only when he wasn't looking directly at them.
He didn't react. Just kept walking. Calm. Normal. Totally fine.
Inside?
He was internally screaming.
Okay, Kael. Maybe your soul's haunted. Maybe you're secretly a cursed prince. Maybe the ghost of some dead Primarch is trying to borrow your body like a pair of old boots. That's fine. We're adaptable.
We handle trauma with sarcasm.
The silence lasted until he reached the outer archive entrance.
Then someone said his name.
Soft.
Precise.
Right behind him.
"Kael Maelvaran."
He turned.
And saw no one.
Not even a shadow.
Only the wall.
Only the stone.
The mark on his palm pulsed once.
He hissed, clutching his hand. The pain wasn't deep, but it felt... awake.
The wall in front of him didn't change.
Didn't open.
Didn't pulse with dark energy or whisper a dramatic prophecy.
Instead, a single line of light appeared—so faint he almost missed it. A seam, vertical and narrow, like the beginning of a door. Like something that wanted to open but wasn't allowed.
Kael stared at it.
"Well... this is clearly a bad idea."
He reached for it anyway.
Because that's what he did now.
He touched the light.
It disappeared.
Just—gone.
The wall became wall again.
And a second later, someone finally appeared behind him. This time not a whisper.
Not a dream.
A real person.
"Are you lost, Ashbound?"
Kael turned, hand still aching.
The girl who stood there wore the deep crimson cloak of the Fireblood line. Golden embroidery traced up her sleeves in the shape of flame dragons, and her eyes burned the same way her presence did—like fire waiting for an excuse.
Kael groaned.
"I'm starting to think you people have an alert for when I go anywhere interesting."
The girl smirked.
"And I'm starting to think you've forgotten your place."
He offered a slow, sarcastic bow.
"My apologies, your combustion."
She didn't laugh.
She stepped closer.
Too close.
And whispered:
"I saw what you did in the pit."
Kael blinked. His expression froze just a fraction.
"You didn't flinch," she continued. "Didn't cast. Didn't shield. The fire stopped. And it wasn't yours."
He said nothing.
She leaned in.
"That's not rejection," she said. "That's dominance."
Kael gave her a tired look.
"Why are you here?"
"To see if I should be afraid of you," she said, honest and sharp as obsidian.
He didn't answer.
She didn't wait for one.
She turned and left without another word.
Kael stood there a moment longer, watching the place where the seam of light had vanished. The stone no longer whispered.
But the silence had changed again.
This time, it waited.
End of Chapter 5
Would you like Chapter 6 to dive into Kael's secret training session (where his Primarch essence starts to manifest more violently)? Or explore a flashback, new faction reveal, or first real Academy-wide conflict involving Kael?