The sky over Regis remained dull and gray, as if even the heavens were waiting for answers.
Kael walked the southern training path alone, hands in his pockets, boots crunching over a carpet of crisp leaves. It had become his quiet ritual since returning. The path wound along the edge of the inner forest, hidden from the main walkways and rarely used. Here, he could think. Breathe. Escape the endless stares and whispers that followed him through the halls.
He wasn't sure what bothered him more: the silence of the administration or the silence of his classmates. One had power but offered nothing. The other had curiosity but no courage to ask. It was as if Kael had become a symbol of something dangerous, unknowable. Some whispered that he was cursed. Others, that he was lucky to be alive. But most simply avoided him.
"You're starting to look like a ghost," came a voice behind him.
Kael turned, unsurprised to find Silas approaching. The Caellum heir looked more composed than usual, a datapad tucked under one arm.
"Maybe I am," Kael replied. "Would explain the stares."
Silas offered a faint smirk. "No. Ghosts fade. You're casting too long a shadow for that."
They walked in silence for a moment. Birds flitted overhead, oblivious to the tension simmering beneath Regis's polished surface.
"There's a lot happening behind closed doors," Silas finally said. "The Council's in a deadlock. Some want to bury what happened in the Rift. Others want to use it."
"Use it?"
"You," Silas clarified. "Your ability. Your growth. Some families think you're a threat. Others think you're a weapon."
Kael exhaled through his nose. "I'm not interested in being either."
Silas shrugged. "Doesn't matter what you want. That's the problem."
Kael kicked a stone from the path. "So what do we do?"
"We wait. Watch. And when the time comes, we move. But we do it together."
Kael stopped walking, turning to face him. "You're serious about this? About standing with me?"
Silas nodded. "I told you before. I don't care where you come from. I care what you do next."
Later that day, Kael sat under the central archway, sketching notes on a battered notepad. Old habits died hard. As much as Flow training had changed his body, his mind still preferred slow thought to flashy ability.
"Busy?"
Kael looked up to see Neyra, a tray of food in her hands. She sat beside him without waiting for an answer.
"Not really," Kael said, gesturing to the pad. "Trying to map out everything we saw in the Rift. It's fuzzy, but... I don't want to forget."
Neyra nodded, silent for a moment as she picked at her food. "I keep dreaming about it. The sounds. The pressure. That silence before it attacked."
Kael met her eyes. "Same."
She looked down. "You held us together out there. If you hadn't—"
"I didn't do it alone," Kael interrupted. "I'm still here because of you. All of you."
A small smile crept onto Neyra's face. "Still. I'd follow you again. Any time."
Kael felt something warm settle in his chest. "Same here."
Later that evening, a message pinged Kael's Codex: a summons to the arena block.
When he arrived, Asha and Tarin were already there, suited up in light sparring gear.
"Figured it was time we shook the dust off," Tarin said, tossing him a practice blade. "You up for a session?"
Kael caught the weapon and gave a small nod. "Always."
They ran drills until the sky turned deep purple. Blade clashed against blade, their movements sharp, rhythmic. For a moment, it felt like the early days. Before the Rift. Before everything changed.
Kael moved faster now, cleaner, more aware of his body's power. The growth spurt hadn't just changed his appearance—it had made him terrifyingly efficient. Asha noticed.
"You're adapting faster," she said between strikes.
"Feels like the Flow wants me to," Kael admitted.
She studied him, serious. "Be careful. Power wants control. But it rarely offers guidance."
Kael nodded, lowering his blade. "I'll keep that in mind."
Night fell. Kael returned to his room, exhausted yet sharper, more focused.
He sat by the window, staring out at the starlit sky.
In the glass, his reflection wavered. Stronger. Sharper jawline. Broader shoulders. But the eyes were still his.
Still searching.
Still burning.
Somewhere, deep in his core, the Flow pulsed—not wild, but waiting.
Kael reached up and touched the Codex pendant resting over his heart.
Whatever came next, he wouldn't face it alone.
He wouldn't be silent.
He wouldn't fade.