Magic was not a muscle.
It didn't grow stronger with brute repetition, and it couldn't be pushed past its limits like swordplay or stamina drills. Wind was will. Aether was rhythm.
At least, that's what the instructors claimed.
But Caelum no longer believed them.
Not after the Vault.
Not after the mark.
Not after the scrolls whispered back.
---
The Hidden Practice Ground
The Umbra dorm's western wall opened into a forgotten courtyard, overgrown and mostly used by squirrels and storm-hardened weeds. Caelum had discovered it by accident—and quickly claimed it as his training ground.
He stood at its center now, breathing in the cold morning air, gloves off, arms bare. The wind around him was alive not gusting, not wild but hovering, like a waiting pulse.
"Okay," he muttered. "Let's find the edge."
He raised his hand and thought of motion.
The breeze surged. Leaves spiraled upward.
He moved his fingers slightly—five darts of wind burst forward, striking the moss wall with pinpoint force.
Again.
Faster. Sharper.
Each strike obeyed thought, not chant. He didn't recite runes or call upon the Veil. The wind **knew** what he wanted.
It wanted to move with him.
I'm not channeling it, Caelum thought. I'm becoming it.
And then he slipped.
One pulse too far an emotional spike. Pain.
The air snapped outward in a shockwave that cracked two stones clean off the wall and sent him sprawling backwards into the dirt.
---
"I don't know whether to be impressed… or terrified."
Caelum scrambled upright.
Lira. Standing behind a crumbling pillar, arms crossed, firelight dancing behind her irises.
"You stalking me?"
"Only when your magic starts shaking the courtyard," she said, stepping closer. "What was that?"
"I… don't know."
She raised a brow. "Don't give me that. You've been twitchy since the Bloom. Now you're throwing air blades like they're candy."
He looked down. "It's not normal, is it?"
Lira said nothing at first. Then:
"No. But neither am I."
She opened her palm.
A flicker of fire swirled upward but it didn't burn.
It twisted into a sigil mid-air. One that mirrored the one Caelum had seen on the scroll.
The Sigil of Flame.
---
"I wasn't supposed to have fire affinity," she said. "My father's a miner. My mother grows vines. My first spark happened during a fight. I screamed, and the wall behind me melted."
Caelum blinked. "So… you're like me?"
She gave a crooked smile. "Not quite. I'm not hearing voices or cracking courtyard stones. But… something's waking up. I've been dreaming of embers forming shapes. Of a woman made of flame. She calls me 'Kindler.'"
Caelum's breath caught.
That was a nameone of the Sigil titles in the scroll.
He pulled up his sleeve. Showed her the eye-shaped mark.
Lira stared. "Oh. So… we're really in it, huh?"
---
The wind moved around them nowflickering and circling in tandem with Lira's controlled flame. Two currents. Opposite elements. Yet... not clashing.
Instead, syncing.
Caelum felt something stir. Deep in his chest. Like a gate unlatching.
And when he spoke again, his voice didn't feel entirely his.
"The seals are waking. Not just in me."
Lira's grin faded. "How many are there?"
"Seven."
She laughed sharp, nervous. "Seven? Great. I thought I was special."
"You still are. Just… not alone."
They stood in silence for a moment, the wind and fire coiling around their feet.
Then Caelum whispered, "If you're Flame… I'm Wind. Echo."
Lira looked him dead in the eyes.
"Then the others are out there. And someone's going to try to stop us from finding them."
---
Before Caelum could respond, a low chime echoed through the air.
Not a class bell.
Something older.
It resonated through the Veil itself. All around them, birds scattered. Trees trembled. Even the flame in Lira's hand flickered uncertainly.
"What was that?" she said.
Caelum turned slowly toward the horizon, where Arcvale's central tower glowed faintly.
His mark had started to burn.
"That," he said, "was the first seal shifting."
And somewhere in the academy...
Another Sigil had just awakened.