The lecture hall at Harmonia Academy buzzed like a hive when the instructor left. The students had been given only a day to prepare for the "Initial Assessment," a trial meant to evaluate their resonance affinity and mental composure.
The next morning, Kael followed Lyra through the marble corridors toward the practice grounds. His palms were sweaty, the echoes inside him strangely restless.
"Don't panic," Lyra whispered, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. Her golden harp-shaped brooch caught the sunlight, gleaming proudly. "They'll only ask you to release a bit of your resonance. Just… keep it small."
Kael swallowed. That's the problem. My resonance isn't like theirs. It's not sound or flame or anything normal. It's silence.
The practice grounds spread wide a massive coliseum with tiered seats, stone walls, and a polished floor that reflected morning light. Dozens of first-year students gathered, each standing with nervous energy.
At the center, Instructor Maelor waited. A stern man with steel-gray hair, he carried himself with the authority of someone who could shatter any resonance with a glance. His voice carried, clear and commanding:
"Today we separate those who can stand on the stage of sound from those who cannot. Harmonics channel your resonance through your medium. Echoes do not despair. Even you, the so-called errors, may still hold worth. All of you will show me what you can do."
Kael flinched at that word: error. The same insult Lyra's father had spat. The same word that branded him different.
Maelor clapped his hands. "Step forward one by one. Demonstrate."
The first student, a broad-shouldered boy, raised a pair of gauntlets etched with flame runes. Heat rippled, and scarlet fire roared from his fists, controlled but fierce.
"Flame Resonance. Stable." Maelor nodded.
The next, a slender girl with pale hair, lifted a crystal pendant. A low hum filled the air, threads of sound weaving into shields that shimmered faintly.
"Sound Resonance. Basic but solid."
One after another, students displayed bursts of water, sparks of lightning, gusts of wind. Some faltered, their resonance sputtering. Others earned approving nods.
Kael's chest tightened with each performance. The more he saw, the more he realized how far apart he was. I can't do what they do. I don't even have a proper medium, only this flute Lyra gave me. If I play it, what comes out?
Finally
"Kael," Maelor called.
Dozens of eyes turned to him. His stomach dropped. He stepped into the circle, clutching the simple wooden flute. Its surface felt heavy, as if it bore all the weight of expectation.
Maelor's eyes narrowed. "You are one of the echoes, yes? Then let us see if even an echo can muster a note worthy of Harmonia."
A ripple of laughter spread through the students. Echoes rarely impressed anyone.
Kael raised the flute to his lips. His hands trembled. For a moment, nothing came, then he forced himself to breathe, to exhale slowly into the instrument.
A soft, shaky note rang out. It wavered like a child's first attempt at music. Some students snickered.
But then, something strange happened.
The sound stretched, lengthened. Around Kael, the air seemed to still. The laughter dimmed, not because the students stopped, but because the very resonance in the space dulled muffled, muted.
Maelor's eyes widened slightly.
No, no, I didn't mean to, Kael panicked. The echoes inside him surged, pressing outward. His silence resonance reached out, suppressing the fire resonance still lingering in the air from the boy earlier, dampening the hum of the girl's sound shield.
Students shifted uncomfortably. A few clutched their heads as if the sudden absence of resonance disoriented them.
"What is this?" one boy muttered.
Kael's heart raced. Stop, stop, stop! He pulled the flute away, breaking the flow. Immediately, the practice ground's natural hum returned, birds chirping, wind brushing through, the faint background hum of the academy's protective wards.
Silence was gone.
The crowd whispered, unsettled.
Instructor Maelor stepped forward, his face unreadable. "Interesting. Very interesting. That was no ordinary echo trick." His gaze sharpened like a blade. "What exactly did you do?"
Kael's throat went dry. If I tell them the truth, they'll know. Silence. The cursed resonance.
Lyra, standing among the students, cut in quickly. "Instructor, he just amplified his echo. Nothing unusual. His flute helped focus the vibration, that's all."
Maelor's eyes lingered on Kael for a long, piercing moment, as if weighing the truth. Finally, he said, "Perhaps. But echoes are rarely so… disruptive. You may step back, Kael."
Kael bowed his head and retreated, his hands cold. His legs nearly gave way, but he forced himself to stand tall.
As the next student prepared their demonstration, Kael's mind spiraled. That wasn't just an echo. That was silence swallowing sound. If anyone finds out, if they connect me to the cursed resonance…
He clenched the flute tighter.
When the test ended, Maelor addressed them all.
"Your resonances are the notes of your being. Together, they form symphonies, or dissonance. Harmony brings creation. Dissonance brings ruin. Remember that." His gaze swept across them, pausing briefly on Kael before moving on.
"You will be trained, tested, and broken until you find the true sound of yourselves. Dismissed."
Afterward, as the students dispersed, Lyra caught Kael by the arm.
"You need to be more careful," she hissed, dragging him aside behind a stone pillar. Her eyes burned with urgency. "That was Silence, wasn't it? If anyone else realized, they'd call you cursed on the spot."
Kael's lips trembled. "I… I didn't mean to. It just, happened. When I played, everything else went quiet. Like my echoes demanded it."
Lyra's face softened for a moment, then hardened again. "Listen to me. Keep it hidden. No one here will protect you if they find out. Even my father wouldn't."
Kael nodded, though the fear gnawed at him.
In the distance, Instructor Maelor stood alone on the practice ground, watching Kael with a gaze that was not suspicion alone, but curiosity.
And curiosity, Kael feared, was even more dangerous.