The coliseum floor buzzed with motion. Day One of the midterms had begun — and everything felt heavier.
Students moved through one test station to the next: sprint trials, gravity lifts, pulse endurance runs, Desyre containment drills. The usual chaos. Sweat. Stress. Competition.
Professor Orwen stood near the upper platform, arms behind his back, watching it all like a man scanning for one loose thread.
We're not here to see your potential. We're here to test your control over your body, over your Core.
Strength, speed, endurance... and control," he'd said. "You either have it, or you don't."
"This isn't a show," he'd told them. "It's a system check. Let's see how you fail when no one's saving you."
---
Kael moved through the tests quietly.
Not the fastest in speed. Not the strongest in raw lifts. But he never broke form. Never flinched under pulse shock. His heartbeat remained steady even through the Desyre flow drills where most students wobbled or overextended, Kael adjusted his output perfectly.
From the sidelines, Levi raised a brow.
"Bro's not even trying," he muttered.
Charlotte crossed her arms. "He's focused. That's not the same thing."
Even David tilted his head. "He's got more control than I expected."
Sitting quietly in the third row up, Cyrhelle Elsinora watched from under her hood. Her sketchpad was open, but she hadn't drawn a single line. Her gaze never left the boy on the field.
Then came the Weapon Affinity Trial.
The instructor announced it like every year:
"Pick your weapon. Channel Desyre. Show us if it's listen to you.
Most students picked one. A few grabbed weapons they trained with. Nothing new.
But Kael?
He stepped forward. Calm. Silent.
He picked up a sword.
And the moment his fingers wrapped around the hilt, a quiet shimmer ran down the blade — not bright, not flashy. Controlled Desyre.
He moved.
Slash. Pivot. Reset.
He didn't just swing. He flowed.
He placed it down.
Then picked up a bow.
Three phantom arrows all glowing faint with energy — loosed at shifting targets. All three struck center.
Then staff.
Then halberd.
Then arnis.
Then dual daggers.
Every weapon, every stance, every transition.
And each time, he channeled Desyre — not too much, not too little. Just enough to make the weapon an extension of himself.
Silence filled the hall.
No one moved.
Even the evaluators leaned in.
Levi let out a soft breath and whispered toward Charlotte and David.
"I smell Core Re-evaluation."
Charlotte's eyes stayed on Kael. "What even is his Core...?"
David shook his head. "Whatever it is, it's not 'unranked' anymore."
Cyrhelle blinked slowly.
A quiet smile touched the edge of her lips.
Orwen stepped down from the booth. He didn't wait for the next student.
"Navarro," he said. "Stay behind."
A short walk later, Kael stood in the Instructor's Hall — alone now, surrounded by quiet walls and waiting questions.
The walls were bare. A simple table of standard WAA test weapons stood in front of him. Practice dummies lined the wall.
Orwen entered, closed the door, and said nothing for a moment
Desyre Core: "Unclassified – Combat-type."
Kael stood in silence, arms at his side.
Orwen tapped the screen once.
"What you did out there... that wasn't technical skill. That was Desyre synchronization. Across six weapons."
Kael didn't flinch.
"When did you awaken?"
A pause.
"When I was Thirteen. at my hometown. I didn't register it. I didn't know what it meant"
Orwen's eyes didn't leave him.
DESYRE CORE: Weapon Mastery.
Type: Adaptive. Class C... for now."
He confirmed the update himself. The screen changed. Kael's name glowed under a new status.
"You'll be re-categorized. Your matchups on Day Three will change."
Kael stayed still.
"You didn't want eyes on you," Orwen said quietly. "But that's over."
Kael looked up — not with fear.
But calm. Like he already knew.
"Eyes don't matter. What I do does."
Orwen studied him a second longer. Then gave the faintest nod.
"Good. Then keep doing it."
Kael didn't reply – he just turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him
-----
The academy garden was quieter at night.
Most students had returned to their dorms after the evaluations, leaving the paths empty except for the hum of lamplight and the rustle of wind through trimmed hedges.
Kael walked the stone trail without thinking, arms loose at his sides, mind still echoing with the feel of steel in his grip. The trial had ended hours ago, but it lingered — the weight of it, the eyes on him, Orwen's voice in his head.
He turned a corner.
And saw her.
Cyrhelle Elsinora sat on the edge of a raised planter box, legs tucked close, sketchbook balanced on her knees. Her black cat curled beside her, tail flicking lazily.
She glanced up as he approached, eyes meeting his for a moment.
"Didn't expect you here," she said softly.
Kael stopped a few feet away.
"Didn't expect anyone."
She smiled slightly.
"That makes two of us."
He looked at the empty bench across from her, then sat. Neither of them spoke for a few moments. The wind carried the scent of trimmed leaves and night flowers.
> "You were watching earlier," Kael said eventually.
Cyrhelle didn't deny it.
"You were hard to miss."
"Most people shape their Desyre like a weapon," Cyrhelle said softly. "Yours didn't need shaping. It just... moved with you."
Kael glanced at her, then looked down at his hand.
"It's not something I control," he said. "It's something that grew with me."
Cyrhelle gave a quiet nod, her voice barely above a whisper.
"That's why it didn't look like power," she said. "It looked like memory."
Just beyond the garden wall, Charlotte Gravielle walked with two classmates from her previous class, their laughter soft under the glow of pathway lights. She slowed instinctively as her eyes caught a quiet shape through the hedges — Kael.
And sitting across from him — Cyrhelle.
They weren't talking loud. Weren't even sitting that close. But something in the stillness of it made Charlotte pause for half a second longer than she meant to.
"Hey, Char?" one of her friends asked, already a few steps ahead.
Charlotte blinked.
"Coming."
She didn't say anything about what she saw.
Just kept walking.
Back in the garden, Cyrhelle's cat stretched and climbed into her lap.
Then, quieter:
"I don't think that's the only part."
Kael's gaze lingered, not suspicious — just curious.
"You didn't show everything today," Cyrhelle added. "Just enough."
Kael gave a faint smile.
"Maybe."
She returned it.
"Good," she said, standing. "Keep some things for yourself."
She walked past him, slow and quiet, the cat following behind.
Just before turning down the stone steps, she looked back once.
"I liked the dual dagger best," she said. "It suited you."
Then she was gone.
Kael sat there a few seconds longer, staring at the place she'd been.
The wind moved again.
He didn't say anything.
But he smiled.