Morning sunlight filtered through the tall academy windows, casting warm patterns across the training hall. Today was different. Students buzzed with nervous energy, some practicing simple spells, others preparing for basic combat drills.
Elian stepped onto the polished floor, his golden eyes alert. His body felt rested after the previous day's exhaustion, but the memory of the simulation and the subconscious surge of magic still lingered in his chest—a faint, quiet pulse reminding him of something far greater hidden within.
He approached a training dummy, a simple construct for beginners. Today, he wanted to test the small control he could muster consciously. His mother's magic was still largely depleted; he knew he could summon only a fraction, and for a very brief moment.
Closing his eyes, he focused. The warmth beneath his chest throbbed faintly. Just a little… enough to lift the dummy.
A soft silver-gold aura flickered around his hands. Slowly, the dummy trembled, then lifted a few inches off the ground. His heart raced—not from fear, but from the thrill of controlling something with his own intention.
Lyra, standing nearby with arms crossed, tilted her head, watching him carefully. "Hmm… so the new student isn't just lucky, huh?" she murmured, a faint smirk on her lips.
Elian opened his eyes, noticing her for the first time that morning. "I'm not lucky," he said quietly, letting the crystal-clear aura shimmer around his hands for a heartbeat longer.
Curious, Lyra moved closer. "You're… different," she said softly. "The way your magic reacts—it's subtle, but it's there. And yet, it's… restrained? Controlled?"
Elian nodded. "I think… part of it is me, part of it isn't. I can feel it, but I don't fully understand it yet."
Lyra's silver eyes flickered with interest. "Mysterious and talented. Great combination."
Elian glanced at her, a faint smile forming. "You're… observing closely, aren't you?"
She smirked. "Of course. Someone doing something unusual like that deserves attention."
As he concentrated, Elian felt the faint fluttering beneath his chest—the two sealed forces inside him, angelic and demonic, pushing slightly against their bindings. They didn't break, didn't act, but he could sense them.
It's like they're waiting… he thought. Waiting for the right moment.
He didn't know what would happen when that moment came, but the tiny taste of control today gave him hope. Slowly, deliberately, he pushed the dummy slightly higher, feeling the strain in his chest. The aura flickered, weak but steady.
Lyra leaned closer, lowering her voice. "You've got potential… but don't overdo it. You can see how quickly your energy fades, right?"
Elian nodded. "I'll be careful. I want to understand it properly."
For a moment, they just stood there, the soft morning light illuminating the shimmer of his faint magic. The connection between them was subtle but undeniable—a quiet trust forming, the kind that spoke without words.
Elian stepped back, letting the aura fade. His body tingled with the residual warmth, a faint reminder of what had been released. He didn't know when or how the sealed powers might act, but he understood one thing clearly: he needed to train, to grow stronger, and to uncover the truth of what was inside him.
Lyra watched him, curiosity mixed with admiration. "This… is only the beginning, isn't it?" she said softly.
Elian nodded, feeling the weight of his hidden heritage pressing quietly against him, and the faint pulse in his chest reminded him: something greater awaited him, just beyond the horizon.