The sun rose over the training center, casting a warm hue on the buildings still wet from last night's rain. Dew clung to the grass, and mist hovered over the stone paths. Yet, the serenity of the morning couldn't dispel the unease that clung to the center like smoke after a fire.
Keith sat quietly on the edge of his bed, running a hand through his unkempt hair. He hadn't slept well. The voice still echoed in his mind—low and ancient.
Awaken.
He didn't understand it, but he felt it wasn't just a dream. Something within him had responded to the storm, to the darkness. And it frightened him.
His door creaked open, and Ethan stepped in, tossing a small towel at his friend.
"You're up early," Ethan said, his tone light but cautious. "Heard Mistress Vale wants everyone in the courtyard. There's a full-scale evaluation today."
Keith blinked. "Again?"
"Yeah. But something happened last night. Rumors are spreading. Some of the older students are saying they sensed a… surge. A spike in spirit energy."
Keith froze.
Ethan studied him. "Did you feel anything?"
"I… I'm not sure," Keith replied truthfully. "The storm felt different, like it was watching me."
Ethan laughed nervously. "Yeah, well. Hopefully it doesn't mean demons are sneaking into the center or anything."
They dressed quickly and joined the stream of trainees heading to the open training ground.
In the courtyard, a dense crowd of trainees gathered. The girls stood on the opposite side, each wearing their color-coded trainee uniforms, mirrors of the boys. This time, the instructors stood lined in two rows, all fully armed. Some students shifted uncomfortably. Others looked excited by the change of pace.
Mistress Vale stood in front, her presence quiet yet commanding.
"There was an incident," she said calmly. "A sudden outburst of spiritual energy surged from somewhere within the training center. This energy bore signs of latent awakening."
Gasps followed. Some students looked at each other. A few stared at Keith without reason, perhaps sensing something changed.
"The purpose of today's evaluations is to gauge everyone's current state. You'll all be reassigned temporarily to different instructors," Mistress Vale continued. "Anyone nearing the edge of awakening must be monitored closely."
Behind her, Instructor Reen, known for her brutal training style, scanned the crowd. A short woman with bronze skin and a high ponytail, Reen's sharp eyes landed on Keith. She motioned to him.
"You. With me."
Instructor Reen didn't believe in gentle starts. Keith was thrown a practice weapon and told to strike.
"You're unawakened," she said bluntly. "But I want to see what your body remembers."
He swung. She parried effortlessly. Over and over.
Yet something was off. His reactions were too fast. He moved before he thought, his body anticipating attacks with the clarity of instinct.
Reen frowned. "Your body's resonating. You've felt the edge, haven't you?"
Keith didn't answer.
"You're close. But closeness isn't awakening."
She signaled the end of the match. "Rest. You'll train with me daily now."
Elsewhere, in the strategy wing, two senior instructors discussed the recent energy tremor.
"I've seen this type of spike only once," said Instructor Dane, a stoic man with a prosthetic arm. "When one of the High Families' bloodlines reacted during a purge mission."
"This boy—Keith—isn't of any known bloodline," Vale replied. "He's from the rural zones. But anomalies happen."
"And if it's tied to that demon from years ago…?"
Vale narrowed her eyes. "Then the past is catching up faster than we thought."
While Keith returned to the boy's hostel, the other trainees buzzed with conversations.
In the girl's hostel, a sharp and composed girl named Lena, one of the top-ranked first-years, sat polishing her dagger. She had sensed the shift too. Her roommate, a quiet archer named Mari, looked up.
"You think it was one of the first-years?" Mari asked.
Lena nodded. "I don't know who. But someone's awakening is going to be very different."
She paused. "And dangerous."
That night, Keith sat by his window, staring out at the courtyard. He could feel it—something stirring inside him. Something old.
But he was still powerless.
Still waiting.
Outside, the mist moved unnaturally across the courtyard, as though something slithered just beneath it.
Unseen.
Unawakened.
But not for long.