The glow lasted three seconds before dying.
Kael stared at his hands in the darkness, heart hammering. Had it been real? Or another cruel trick of desperate imagination?
He flexed his fingers. Nothing. The silver light was gone, leaving only calloused skin and old scars.
"The dormant soul is not without aura. It simply forgot how to see."
The words from Plotinus haunted him. If it was true—if aura was remembering rather than gaining—then maybe...
"Stop," he whispered to himself. "Stop hoping."
Hope hurt worse than Darian's aura-charged push.
Morning came too soon.
Kael rose with the other servants, muscles aching from yesterday's beating. The breakfast bell rang—thin gruel and stale bread. He ate mechanically, aware of Mira's concerned glances but unwilling to meet her eyes.
Today was Public Evaluation Day.
Once a month, the Academy tested all students publicly, measuring aura growth and ranking them. It was spectacle and hierarchy combined—proof of the system's perfection. The strong rose. The weak fell.
And the dormant watched.
Kael's duty was simple: clean the Evaluation Circle before the ceremony, then stand aside like furniture.
He arrived early with bucket and mop. The Circle dominated the Academy's central courtyard—a fifty-meter diameter platform of crystalline stone, inscribed with detection runes. At its center stood the Obelisk, a three-meter pillar of condensed aura crystal that glowed when measuring power.
Beautiful and cruel.
Kael began scrubbing, watching students gather around the Circle's perimeter. Excitement buzzed through the crowd. Everyone wanted to see if they'd advanced.
"Attention!" A professor's voice echoed. "Evaluation begins in ten minutes. All students prepare!"
The courtyard filled rapidly. Five thousand students and staff. Kael tried to fade into the background, but something felt wrong.
His skin prickled.
A pressure built in his chest, like water behind a dam.
The Obelisk's glow intensified as students began lining up. One by one they entered the Circle, stood before the pillar, and released their aura. The crystal measured intensity and type, projecting results for all to see.
Fragmented. Fragmented. Radiant. Fragmented. Radiant. Radiant.
The rhythm was predictable. Expected.
Kael finished cleaning and moved toward the exit. Just thirty more meters and he'd be—
"Servant! Don't walk so close to the Circle!"
Too late.
Kael had crossed within five meters of the platform. The exact moment a student inside released their aura for measurement.
The Obelisk's glow flickered.
Then exploded.
Chaos.
The crystal pillar erupted with light—not the usual soft glow but blinding, searing brilliance. Silver and black intertwined, shooting skyward in a column of impossible power.
Students screamed. Professors rushed forward. The runes on the Circle's surface ignited, blazing red with overload warnings.
And Kael stood frozen, five meters away, staring.
Because he felt it.
The pull.
Something inside him responded to the Obelisk's energy. Reached for it. Hungered for it.
"SHUT IT DOWN!" Director Silvain's voice cut through panic.
Three professors slammed their hands on emergency seals. The Obelisk's light died instantly.
Silence.
Five thousand people stared at the smoking crystal pillar. Then, slowly, every eye turned.
To Kael.
"Impossible," a professor whispered. "The dormant boy... he triggered it?"
"Nonsense," another scoffed. "Dormant can't affect detection crystals."
But Director Silvain's ancient eyes narrowed. He'd seen something others hadn't.
"Bring him," the Director ordered quietly.
Two guards grabbed Kael's arms.
"Wait, I didn't—" Kael struggled. "I didn't do anything!"
"Precisely what needs to be determined," Silvain said. "Emergency evaluation. Now."
They dragged Kael into the Circle's center. The gathered crowd murmured—confusion, anger, curiosity mixing into a toxic soup.
"Place your hand on the Obelisk," Silvain commanded.
"But I'm dormant," Kael protested weakly. "It won't react to—"
"DO IT."
Kael's hand touched the crystal.
For three heartbeats, nothing happened.
Then the world exploded into silver and black.
Light and shadow erupted from the Obelisk, spiraling around Kael in impossible patterns. He felt something inside him tear open—not painful, but overwhelming. Like remembering how to breathe after seventeen years of suffocation.
The crystal didn't just glow.
It sang.
Fragmented Aura detected.
The words materialized in light above the Obelisk.
Type: Dual—Pure and Shadow.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Purity Level: 97%
Shadow Corruption: 0%
Classification: IMPOSSIBLE CONFIGURATION
WARNING: Unstable emanation patterns. Potential for—
The text shattered. The Obelisk cracked down its center.
Kael flew backward, hitting the ground hard. The connection severed, leaving him gasping.
Silence stretched like a blade.
Then Darian's voice cut through: "Dual aura? That's... that's a myth."
"Not myth," Silvain said quietly, staring at Kael with something between fear and wonder. "Legend. There hasn't been a confirmed dual bearer in five hundred years."
"What does it mean?" a student asked.
"It means," a cold voice answered from the crowd's edge, "he's an abomination."
Professor Cassius stepped forward—a tall man with iron-gray hair and eyes like winter. "Dual aura cannot be controlled. History proves this. Every dual bearer either died young or became corrupted. He's a threat."
"He's a boy who just awakened," Silvain countered.
"He's a weapon that will explode," Cassius insisted. "I move for immediate sealing of his aura."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through professors.
Kael climbed to his feet, legs shaking. "I don't understand. I just... I've been dormant my whole life."
"Not dormant," Silvain corrected gently. "Sealed. Someone suppressed your aura deliberately." He paused. "The question is: who? And why?"
Before Kael could respond, Mira's voice rang out: "You can't seal him! He hasn't done anything wrong!"
"Silence, servant," Cassius snapped.
"She's right," another voice joined. Gareth Ironheart, a young soldier who sometimes visited the Academy. "Testing shouldn't be punishment."
But the tide had turned. Fear spread faster than reason.
"Vote," Cassius demanded. "All in favor of immediate sealing?"
Four hands rose among the seven-member emergency council.
Silvain's face darkened. "This is wrong."
"This is survival," Cassius replied. "Guards—restrain him."
They moved fast.
Six guards surrounded Kael, aura-suppression cuffs ready. He backed away instinctively.
"Don't resist," Silvain advised sadly. "It will only hurt more."
But as the first guard reached for him, something inside Kael rebelled.
No.
The thought was absolute. Primal.
I will not be caged again.
Silver and black light exploded from his body—uncontrolled, wild, desperate. The guards flew backward. The Circle's runes shattered. Students screamed and ran.
Kael stood at the center, eyes blazing with impossible light, power he didn't understand pouring from him like a broken dam.
"STOP!" Silvain's voice thundered. "Kael—you must stop!"
But Kael didn't know how.
The aura swelled. The ground cracked. Reality itself seemed to bend around him.
And in that moment of chaos, Kael felt something else.
A presence. Watching from far away. Amused.
A voice whispered in his mind—ancient, terrifying, somehow familiar:
"So the son of Lyran awakens at last. How delightful."
The connection snapped.
Kael's aura collapsed. He fell to his knees, completely drained.
Unconsciousness claimed him before he hit the ground.
He woke in chains.
The cell was small, dark, carved from stone. Aura-suppression runes covered every surface, pressing down on him like physical weight.
How long had he been here? Hours? Days?
Footsteps echoed outside. The door opened.
Director Silvain entered, face grave. "You're awake. Good."
"Where am I?"
"Beneath the Academy. Secure holding." Silvain sat across from him. "The Council voted. You'll be expelled and marked as Dangerous Aberration. Your aura will be sealed permanently in three days."
Kael's blood turned cold. "No. Please, I can control—"
"You can't. Not yet." Silvain leaned forward. "But I believe you could learn. Which is why..." He slid a small key across the floor. "This unlocks your chains. There's a tunnel behind the loose stone in the east wall. It leads outside the Academy grounds."
Kael stared at the key, then at Silvain. "You're helping me escape?"
"I'm giving you a choice. Stay and be sealed. Or run, and maybe—maybe—find someone who can teach you." The old Director stood. "If you choose to run, go to the eastern forests. Someone watches for you there. Someone who knew your parents."
"My parents? But I'm an orphan—"
"Are you?" Silvain smiled sadly. "Or were you simply hidden?"
He walked to the door, paused. "Your parents were named Lyran and Sera Veron. They bore Divine Aura—Pure and Shadow respectively. And seventeen years ago, they died protecting something precious."
"What?"
Silvain looked back one final time.
"You."
The door closed.
Kael stared at the key in the darkness.
His hands began to glow silver once more.
This time, they didn't stop.