In his dream, he stood in a chamber of shadows lit only by flickering candles. Out of the mist emerged a man robed in white. His face was indistinct, but his eyes burned with solemn fire.
"Caelum Dominic…" the voice echoed. "The heir of our bloodline… the bearer of the exorcist's seal."
In the man's hand gleamed an ancient silver cross. He extended it toward Caelum. When Caelum grasped it, a searing heat erupted in his palm, as though a brand had been pressed into his flesh.
"Aaahh!" Caelum cried out. He looked down in horror—blood seeped from the center of his palm, forming the shape of a cross.
The robed figure's voice softened, almost like a prayer:
"The seal is opened. Do not fear… you will learn your calling."
Caelum jolted awake, gasping for breath, sweat chilling his skin. Beside him, Malik had already stirred, his eyes wide with alarm.
"Caelum! Your… your hand!"
Caelum looked—and froze. His palm was bleeding, exactly as in the dream. A small wound had appeared in the very center, shaped like a faint cross.
"This… it's real?!" His heartbeat thundered.
Frantic, he grabbed a strip of cloth from the drawer and wrapped it tightly around his palm. Malik still stared, worried.
"You need to tell the dorm warden. This isn't normal."
"No," Caelum hissed, shaking his head quickly. "No one can know… this is mine to bear."
He bound the cloth firmly, pressing down until the blood slowed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he tried to calm his breathing, but deep inside, he knew—his life had just shifted onto a path from which there was no return.
That morning, the corridors of the castle bustled with students heading to their respective classes. Sunlight streamed through tall stained-glass windows, scattering colors across the polished stone floor.
Caelum, Malik, and Shen walked side by side. Malik, still half-asleep, yawned loudly while Shen, as always, walked in silence, his sharp gaze fixed ahead.
But then Shen's eyes shifted to Caelum's hand, wrapped in a strip of white cloth.
"You're injured," Shen said flatly. "Why?"
Caelum stiffened. His lips parted, but no words came. Malik quickly stepped in, almost too fast.
"Probably just a cut or something from last night, right, Caelum?"
Before Caelum could respond, a cheerful voice called from behind.
"Good morning!"
The three boys turned at once. A girl appeared out of nowhere, making Malik nearly jump. Her golden hair fell neatly to her shoulders, her blue eyes sparkled, and she wore the same black robe as them. Her bright smile lit up the gloomy corridor.
Malik frowned. "Uh… who are you? From which class?"
The girl clasped her hands before her chest, laughing softly. "My name is Seraphine."
Caelum spoke quickly, a bit flustered, "She's… my friend. We met on the journey here."
Shen's eyes narrowed. "Your friend, huh?"
Seraphine tilted her head slightly, her gaze brushing over Caelum before turning back to the others. "I just wanted to make sure Caelum is all right. He didn't look too well yesterday."
Malik blinked. "You were… watching him?"
Seraphine only gave a small smile and stepped forward gracefully. "Come on, or we'll be late for class. You wouldn't want to upset the magister, would you?"
The three exchanged glances. Malik shrugged, Shen's eyes stayed cold and suspicious, while Caelum lowered his head, his heartbeat quickening.
While Caelum was walking through the corridors with his friends, elsewhere in the castle, a secret meeting was taking place.
Inside a dim chamber lined with shelves of ancient tomes and jars of potions, several of the academy's highest authorities gathered. On the long oak table, a crystal orb swirling with smoke projected the image of a boy's face: sharp blue eyes glistening, thick brows, and hair of silvery brown.
Magister Severian, the master of potions, leaned forward, his voice heavy.
"This boy… Caelum Dominic. He is barely in his first year of lower division, yet the seal has already awakened. How is that possible? The seal should remain locked until he comes of age."
Beside him stood the Head of Security, a broad-shouldered man clad in black armor inlaid with silver crosses. His arms were folded, his tone grave.
"If the seal awakened too early, it means the Dominic bloodline is unstable. Someone—or something—forced his power to rise before its time."
From the shadows at the far end of the room came the sound of a staff striking stone. An elderly woman in a dark hood stepped forward: Magistra Sorcha, one of the oldest and most revered spellmasters, who taught in the upper division. Her eyes glowed faintly under her hood.
"Do not underestimate this omen. I have been teaching for over half a century, and only once before have I seen such a seal… and that time, the world nearly collapsed."
Severian's lips tightened. "Then… should we report this to the Vatican Council immediately?"
Sorcha's gaze lingered on the boy's image in the orb, her voice sharp and deliberate.
"Not yet. If word spreads, the demons of the Regnum Obscura will hunt him before he even learns to wield his gift. For now… we watch."
The Head of Security scowled. "And if he cannot control it?"
The old woman closed her eyes, her staff echoing as it struck the ground. Her words came out cold as stone.
"Then we must decide… whether to make him the last bulwark against darkness—or destroy him before the seal destroys us all."
Silence fell over the council chamber. The orb continued to glow, reflecting the face of a boy who had no idea that his fate was being weighed by those sworn to protect him.