Elias dressed in silence, his mind a storm of thoughts.
The room hadn't changed at all. Same uneven floorboards, same stiff cotton sheets, and same faded tunic and boots folded neatly at the foot of his bed—like time had never passed at all.
Yet everything had changed.
He tied the cloth cords of his tunic tight and yanked his boots on. The sensation of lacing them up again, knowing this was the day it all began, made his chest tighten.
He turned toward the door, hesitating only a moment. Then he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "I'm heading out!"
A muffled "Good luck!" echoed back through the hall.
His mouth twitched. For a second, he just stood there. Letting the sound settle in.
Then he stepped outside.
The early morning sun bathed the outskirts in a hazy gold, but it couldn't hide the truth of this place. The buildings here were old. Cracked stone walls, warped wood supports, faded paint. Most were patched together with mismatched planks or rusted nails. Roofs sagged. Smoke chimneys coughed out uneven wisps.
He jogged past rows of lopsided houses, weaving between carts and drying laundry lines. The air smelled of wet clay, ash, and overboiled soup. It was all so familiar.
Children dashed barefoot down narrow alleys, chasing dogs and shouting, oblivious to the harsh reality they lived in. Old men sat in half-broken chairs, nodding to each other in silence. A few watched Elias run past, their expressions unreadable. He wasn't sure they recognised him.
The further he went, the more things began to change.
The buildings shifted—first subtly, then rapidly. Stone replaced mudbrick. Wooden beams straightened. Doors lost their creaks. The streets widened and smoothed into cobbled roads, swept clean by early risers in blue-trimmed uniforms.
The people changed too. Cloaks replaced aprons. Jewellery sparkled beneath the morning sun. Shopkeepers shouted with polished voices, and no one stared at him anymore—they didn't even glance.
Elias knew this part of the city well. He used to only glimpse it in passing, mainly while running errands for his mother. He'd always felt like an intruder here.
But not today.
Today, he was one of the many headed toward Arcanum Academy—the place that sat at the heart of the city, walled off like a sovereign kingdom.
The change was sudden.
He turned a corner and came face-to-face with the gates.
Two enormous archways stood flanked by marble towers, etched with gold-leaf runes that shimmered faintly in the sunlight. The walls themselves soared like cliffs, thick enough to repel siege weapons, tall enough to block the morning sun from reaching the cobbles below. A massive silver crest hung above the gates—a stylised phoenix coiled around a rising sun.
Arcanum Academy.
It was often referred to as a city within a city. From here, the tops of towers stretched endlessly above the inner skyline. Gardens peeked over elevated bridges. Arcane lights floated just beneath the clouds. He could even make out the dome of the Grand Auditorium from this distance, reflecting the sky like a silver mirror.
The gate itself was wide open.
A stream of teens his age flowed through, all dressed in their best—some in tailored coats, others in noble garb marked with family crests. Laughter and chatter filled the air. He walked alongside them, but didn't speak. His eyes roamed aimlessly at his surroundings.
This was the last place he called home—and the place he had died at.
Before he could take in the vast expanse of the academy.
A flash of silver caught his eye.
Too late.
A body slammed into his shoulder, sending him stumbling backwards. He barely caught himself before crashing into the stone wall.
"Ow—watch it!" came a sharp voice.
Elias blinked, startled by the sudden impact.
A girl had staggered backwards from the collision. She stood a few paces away, rubbing her arm, her silver-white hair cut short and slightly uneven—like she'd done it herself with a dull blade. Her eyes were an icy blue, almost unnatural, and her expression was pinched with annoyance.
She wore a simple coat with grey trim and black boots laced to the knee. No jewellery. No emblem. She looked like she didn't care how she looked at all.
Elias opened his mouth, then hesitated.
It was just like five years ago—but this time, he knew better than to assume the girl before him was just some random student.
Because she wasn't.
The girl in front of him was Maelis Glacielle.
Five years ago, she'd awakened with a D-Rank Class and spent her academy years in quiet obscurity. But one year later, everything changed. She underwent a rare Reawakening—and emerged with the only known 11th S-Rank Class in the world.
Before Elias could drift further into memory, he noticed her staring at him.
"I—sorry," he said quickly.
Maelis narrowed her eyes. "You're not looking where you're going," she said flatly.
Just as she looked ready to say something else, a sharp chime rang through the academy.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
"Crap!" she hissed, turning on her heel and sprinting toward the Ceremony Hall.
Elias lingered for a moment, watching her retreat.
Then he started moving too.
The bell meant there were only five minutes left until the Awakening Ceremony—And he wasn't about to be late… again.