The first few days at Crimson Eye Academy passed in a blur of aching muscles and sleepless nights.
Kael Ardyn had never trained this hard before — dawn to dusk, drills that burned the lungs, lessons that felt more like battles of will than of strength. Every motion, every breath was a reminder that he didn't belong here… at least not yet.
Each morning began the same way: the academy bell crying across the valley, its echo bouncing off the cliffs as students rushed to the courtyard. There, under the crimson-tinted sky, instructors barked orders sharp enough to slice through thought.
Kael always took a place at the back — not out of fear, but to watch and learn. The other students' movements flowed with precision, the way wind bends grass. His, however, were raw and uncertain, shaped by instinct rather than training.
"Focus on your breathing!" shouted Instructor Velra one morning, her tone slicing through the chatter. "Your ether obeys your rhythm. Lose rhythm, lose control!"
Kael clenched his jaw and tried again, inhaling deep, exhaling slow. His vision blurred as energy gathered faintly behind his eyes, then scattered — like sand slipping through fingers. Around him, sparks lit up the air as others shaped their ether into symbols and trails.
He created nothing.
By noon, his limbs trembled. When the session ended, he collapsed near the water trough, gulping air.
"You're still standing," a voice said.
He looked up to see Vorath — silver-haired, calm, and distant as ever — tossing him a flask.
Kael caught it, hesitating. "Why help me?"
Vorath shrugged. "Because you didn't quit." He gave a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Most who don't have awakened eyes don't last this long. Let's see how long you hold out."
Kael smirked weakly. "Guess we'll find out."
For the first time, Vorath laughed — short, quiet, but real — before walking off.
That night, Kael lay in his dorm staring at the ceiling beams, the faint hum of ether crystals above his bed glowing dim blue. His muscles screamed. His pride hurt worse. But beneath it all, something in his chest pulsed — faint but rhythmic, like a heartbeat that wasn't entirely his.
He turned on his side, exhaling. The whispering sky beyond the window shimmered faintly with streaks of crimson, even at midnight.
Was it calling him again?
---
The days blurred together after that — drills, lectures, exhaustion. Kael learned to move quietly, observe, and endure. Yet the pulse inside him was growing louder. Sometimes during training, his vision flickered red for half a second. Once, he swore he heard a low murmur, like a voice buried beneath thunder.
But every time he tried to focus on it, it vanished.
At dusk one evening, as students gathered in the courtyard to cool down, Instructor Velra dismissed them with a rare hint of approval. "Tomorrow, you'll all demonstrate your progress. Fail to channel your ether properly, and you'll repeat the week's training from scratch."
Groans filled the air. Kael didn't join them. His chest tightened — half in dread, half in determination.
He wasn't going to fail.
Not again.
As the others drifted away, Kael stayed behind, alone beneath the fading red sky. He clenched his fists, breathing in the silence. His reflection shimmered faintly in the academy fountain nearby — eyes dark and tired, yet for an instant, glowing faintly crimson.
The flicker came again — this time stronger, sharper, alive.
The wind shifted. The sky seemed to whisper.
Kael exhaled slowly, his breath trembling in the evening chill.
Maybe weakness was just the first layer — something meant to be shed.
He didn't understand the pulse yet, or the voice, or the power stirring in his veins. But he could feel one truth beginning to form:
Something inside him was waking up.