The gates of the Aurelian Institute didn't just open; they felt like they were admitting you into a different dimension.
Made of white marble and reinforced with gold filigree, the entrance was known to the students as the "Sun-Gate." Here, the elite were groomed for greatness, and as the morning light hit the polished stone, the entire campus seemed to glow with an untouchable, divine prestige.
As Kaelo walked through the main courtyard, the morning sun hit the central Aurelian Sun-Dial with a blinding intensity.
"Kaelo! Did you finish the notes for the Divine Law seminar?"
"Kaelo, the council needs your help with the gala layout!"
Kaelo turned, his smile sliding into place with practiced ease. It was a perfect smile—warm, crinkling at the eyes, and effortlessly charming. He wasn't just popular; he was a bridge. He stopped to help an elderly groundskeeper struggling with a heavy stone planter, checking on the man's health with the devotion of a son. A few feet later, he paused to ruffle the hair of a faculty member's young child, fixing the boy's crooked tie like an older brother.
To the world, he was The Walking Warmth. He was the one person who could make a stranger feel seen and a lonely heart feel full.
"You're playing the 'Universal Brother' role early today," a voice joked.
Kaelo turned to see Jude, Xylas, and Nyra waiting by the entrance to the Great Hall.
They had been his closest circle for as long as he could remember. Jude was the protective one, Xylas the reliable strategist, and Nyra the observant lead of the student council.
"It's not a role, Jude," Kaelo replied, his voice smooth and comforting. "People just need a little light. Is that so wrong?"
Jude gave a small shrug, though a strange, flickering guilt passed through his eyes—a feeling he couldn't explain. "Right. Well, try not to blind anyone. The sun is aggressive today."
As they walked, a sudden, sharp pressure built behind Kaelo's eyes. For a split second, the vibrant colors of the courtyard seemed to flicker and gray. The golden sunlight felt heavy—almost violent—pressing down on his shoulders like a physical weight.
In that moment, a blurry vision flashed across his mind. He saw a silhouette standing in a field of gray ash, reaching out to him, but the face was a distorted smudge of light and shadow. He didn't know who they were, or why the sight of them made his chest ache with a thousand years of grief.
"Don't look at the shadows,_ _____," a woman's voice whispered in his mind, so faint it was like the rustle of a moth's wing.
"Kaelo? You okay?" Nyra asked, her hand instantly on his arm as he stumbled.
"I'm fine," Kaelo said, the perfect mask snapping back into place before she could see the strain. He was The Mirror; he showed them exactly what they wanted to see. "Just a dizzy spell. The sun is just... really bright today."
They reached the shade of a large oak tree near the history wing, where a girl named Lyra was waiting. She looked nervous, her face flushed pink as the school's "Golden Son" approached. Jude, Xylas, and Nyra shared a knowing look and stepped back, giving them space.
"Kaelo," Lyra whispered, her voice trembling.
"Everyone loves you because you're a brother to some and a son to others... but I don't want to be your sister. I think I love you."
The air went still.
At the word "Love," the world didn't just stop; it felt like it tore. The golden sunlight didn't feel warm anymore—it turned a blinding, aggressive white. A cold, jagged spike of repulsion shot through Kaelo's heart.
SHATTER.
Behind them, the massive glass display case of the Institute's history wing imploded. Shards of glass rained down on the floor in a perfect, terrifying circle.
Kaelo didn't flinch. He didn't reach out to Lyra. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a flat, hollow darkness. He didn't understand why, but his vision blurred again, filled with faces he couldn't recognize. Before he could stop it, a single drop of water escaped his eye, rolling down his cheek—a lone tear for a past he didn't remember.
"The sun," Kaelo said, his voice devoid of any emotion, sounding like cracking ice. "It's too bright, Lyra. It's always too bright."
Beneath his feet, deep under the Aurelian Sun-Dial, a strange, low thrumming vibration echoed through the ground, as if something sharp was finally beginning to wake up.