Kael sat under the flickering torchlight in the ruins' temporary resting zone, the ancient tome cradled in his lap like a wounded animal.
Its cover was cold despite the heat from the flames.
Dragonskin. That much he knew. Old, cracked, and bound with symbols that shimmered when he blinked.
He touched the cover, and the memory returned—softly at first. Then with weight.
The altar.
The voice.
"Child of the broken line. Blood remembers. Offer what was taken."
He remembered the pain. The blood that wasn't his. The scream that tore through his soul. And then—
When the light dimmed…
The book was there.
Not beside the altar.
Not tucked into the stone.
But already resting in his hands.
He hadn't taken it.
It had come to him.
Kael's breath hitched as he stared at the cover again. he brushed the dust away, fingers trembling slightly.
And then—the book opened on its own.
Pages flipped furiously, stopping midway. The text didn't move like normal ink — it crawled across the parchment, reshaping into symbols Kael somehow understood… even though he'd never learned the language.
"You are not chosen by blood. You are chosen by the broken."
"When the stars fail, something older will rise."
Kael's breath caught.
A memory hit him — standing before the altar, the vision of the screaming sky, the shattered moon, his own face drenched in tears and fire.
This book knew him.
Or worse… it had been waiting for him.
---
A soft sound.
Naya's voice.
"You're still awake?" she asked gently from behind.
Kael jumped, snapping the book shut. "Couldn't sleep."
She eyed the tome, her brow furrowed. "What is that?"
"Something I found," he lied.
"I thought we weren't supposed to take anything from the ruins."
"I didn't mean to. It was… part of the test."
She stared at him. For a second, Kael feared she'd push further — ask about the blood, the beast, the whispering darkness.
But she didn't.
Instead, she sat beside him and leaned back, watching the sky. "The stars are quiet tonight."
"Too quiet," Kael whispered.
---
The next day, the final trial resumed. Students gathered at the edge of the inner ruins — where ancient relics and simulated danger awaited.
Professor Lioren walked down the line, his eyes brushing over each student with cold precision.
When he reached Kael, he paused.
"You survived the fall," he said quietly.
Kael didn't answer.
Lioren tilted his head. "Most don't. Not without… help."
There was no accusation in his tone. Just knowing.
Kael stayed silent.
Lioren walked on, but Kael felt that deep stare linger — like the professor had seen more than he let on. Like he'd been in that tomb before.
---
As they entered the trial grounds, Kael moved apart from the others. He didn't want to use the power burning in his blood — not yet. But it was harder now. Like something inside him had awakened and wanted out.
The book's words burned in his mind:
"Not all monsters are born. Some are made."