The quiet after class felt heavier than silence—it felt like the world itself was holding its breath.
Rivan sat alone on a weathered stone bench, his elbows resting on his knees. The twin suns were sinking behind the towers, staining the courtyard in molten orange and deep violet. Mana veins glimmered faintly beneath the marble tiles, pulsing like a heartbeat beneath his boots.
He should've gone back with the others, but he couldn't. His thoughts wouldn't stop circling.
Why am I really here?
Why does mana react to me like it's alive?
Who was that masked man? And that voice... Starborn... what does it mean?
The questions came one after another, too fast, too heavy. He rubbed his temples, trying to push them away, but the air itself hummed against his skin—alive, restless. The faint golden shimmer beneath his veins refused to fade, glowing softly in time with his pulse.
He clenched his fists. "Stop…"
The light dimmed, but the warmth stayed—something between a heartbeat and a warning.
Students passed by in pairs, their laughter drifting through the courtyard like echoes from another world. They looked calm, comfortable. Belonging. Rivan envied that.
"Out here alone again?"
He turned at the familiar voice.
Liora stood a few steps away, the fading light brushing silver across her hair. Her black-and-silver uniform was crisp, fitted, and perfectly arranged—like everything about her. Her eyes, though, were sharp enough to cut through his thoughts.
"Couldn't sleep," Rivan said, forcing a half-smile. "Too many questions."
She approached, her boots soft against the tiles. The mana lines underfoot flickered faintly with every step she took.
"You're not the first to say that," she replied. "Though most students don't ask the kind that keep them awake."
"Yeah," he muttered. "But I might be the only one who doesn't even know why he's here."
Her gaze lingered on him, quiet and unreadable. The wind lifted a strand of her hair, and for a moment, she didn't look like an instructor—just someone trying to hide worry behind control.
"You'll understand in time," she said softly. "But until then, keep your power hidden. Power draws eyes… and not all of them are kind."
Her calm voice prickled against his skin—a warning wrapped in comfort.
Before he could ask what she meant, the curfew bell rang. The golden light vanished from the towers, replaced by the white glow of night crystals embedded along the walls.
"Get some rest, Rivan," she said, turning away. "Tomorrow's evaluation won't be as forgiving."
And then she was gone—quiet and precise, like she'd never been there at all.
He stayed behind long after, listening to the courtyard breathe.
The night air was cool, carrying the scent of burnt mana and herbs. Runes shimmered along the academy's walls like constellations, faintly alive.
Rivan leaned back, staring at the twin moons now rising above the towers. For a moment, the world almost felt peaceful.
Then he felt it—pressure. A shift in the air.
He opened his eyes, heartbeat spiking.
A cloaked figure stood at the far corridor, motionless, half-hidden in shadow. The same one from before.
Rivan's breath caught. The figure tilted its head slightly, as if acknowledging him… and then dissolved into mist. Gone.
The mana veins under his skin flared in response, gold light pulsing wildly. And then came the whisper—soft, inside his head.
"You're not lost, Starborn. You're being led."
"Led? By who?" he whispered, but the courtyard had fallen silent again.
Only the faint hum of sigils lit his path back to the dorms.
When he finally returned to his room, exhaustion dragged at his limbs. He sank onto the bed, staring at the glowing runes etched into the ceiling. They pulsed faintly with his heartbeat, warm and alive.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that figure again. The whisper returned, closer this time—like it was breathing beside him.
"They're watching. But so am I."
Rivan's eyes snapped open. The room was silent, but his pulse wasn't.
Something inside him had awakened—
and the Academy wasn't the only one that felt it.
---
Author's Note:
Rivan's world is slowly starting to unfold — the calm before the storm. This chapter was meant to show his confusion, doubt, and that quiet sense of danger building around him. Nothing makes sense to him yet — not the voice, not the mana, not even the people he's supposed to trust.
From here on, the story will start connecting the pieces: why he was brought here, who's watching him, and what the Academy truly hides beneath its shining halls.
If you enjoyed this chapter, drop a comment or save — every bit of support keeps the world growing.
---