"Not all power can be measured. Some of it is earned, stolen... or cursed."
—Instructor Raleth, Records of Forbidden Ranks
Rumors and Reverence
The Academy buzed like a distured hive.
Every hallway, training room, and lcture hall carried whisers of the same name: Kael Rune. A ghost from nowhere who defeated a Raned student with a sngle pulse of power. A newcomer with magic none could classify.
"Breaker-class agic?"
"Didn't those die out in the War?"
"He burned lihtning. Who burns lighning?"
As much as Kairo had tried to stay invisible, he ow stood at the center of every eye. Rankless no more. Target of any.
Worse, the Ranking Judges had quietly labeled im with a sealed mark: Class Unefined. That hadn't happned in over sixty years.
In the Acdemy, undefined meant dangerus.
Lyra walked beside him through the outer courtyard as the sun broke through the stone arches.
"You ned to be careful," she mutteed, eyes scanning
Kairo's voice was low. "They'll come after me anyway."
"I know," she sad. "But let's try to survive the first wek, yeah?"
The Eys Above
Far above, in the Tower of Ascendants, Reign Azaril studied a scroll containing the last knon signatures of Breaker blodlines. The scroll shimmerd under magial firelight, its edges blackened by age.
Next to him stood a woman in black battle robes, face obscured by a veil. She bowed.
"He beat Dren Solvus. And the records confirm he manipulated aether without chanting."
"Silent casting," Reign whispered. "Old magic."
The woan nodded. "Should we notify the Grad Seat?"
Reign's answer was slow. Delberate.
"No. Let him rise. Let him burn bright enough to cast shafows. Then we'll know who else follows him."
He paysed, running a finger across Kairo's image drawn in the Registry.
"And when he falls, we'll collect the asjes."
The Broken Past
That night, Lyra visited Kairo in the Rankless dormitory, bringing a bag of fruits and a scroll wrapped in red.
Kairo took it cautiously. "What is it?"
"An invitation."
"To what?"
"To trouble," she smiled. "You've caught the attention of House Vale. Torian's family."
Kairo frowned. "He was watching me during the match."
"He's planning something. Just... don't go alone."
He looked at her, really looked this time.
"You care about me," he said, half surprised.
Lyra scoffed. "I care about not getting arrested for helping a wanted heir sneak into the most powerful academy in the Skylands."
But her face softened after a beat.
"...And maybe I care a little about the idiot who's about to make every Ranked enemy possible."
They sat in silence.
Then she asked, "What really happened that night in the Stillfire Ruins?"
Kairo didn't answer at first.
His eyes grew distant.
"I remember blood. A woman screaming. My own hands glowing with fire I didn't summon. And then... nothing. Just waking up alone in the ashes."
Lyra placed a hand over his.
"We'll find the truth."
Kairo whispered, "I don't know if I want to.
Second Duel
The second round of the Festival arrived. Kairo stepped into the arena once more, this time facing Rank 84: Mavien Tross, a wind-slicer with twin daggers and a history of brutal knockouts.
The crowd chanted her name.
"Don't blink," Lyra whispered from the stands.
Kairo stood calm.
Mavien struck first, dashing in a blur, her daggers aimed for his throat.
Kairo side-stepped, letting one blade nick his cheek.
He whispered a word. One ancient syllable.
The ground shattered.
Not with flame—but with gravity.
Mavien was crushed to the floor, pinned by invisible pressure.
She struggled, cursing.
Kairo walked up, eyes glowing faintly, and tapped her blade.
It shattered into dust.
Silence again.
Then roars.
"Kael Rune wins!"
A hundred eyes followed him as he left the field.
But one pair—deep, crimson—followed with interest.
Torian Val
He smiled.
"He's rady."
Vnom and Wine
Later that night, Kairo received anothr invitation.
This time, not from the Vales—but from a lesser noble house allied with them: House Serenthi.
It was a trap. He knw it.
So he brought Lyra.
Inside the marble dinig hall, nobles laughed, drank, and watched him like a rare animal. A Rakless walking among dragons.
The host—a snake-eyed boy named Venn Serenthi—raised a glass.
"To the Unranked! May your fall be as swift as yur rise."
Laughter
Kairo smiled calmly.
"Careful," he said. "Somethims ghosts bite."
Venn's smile faded.
Lyra lened close and whispered, "We should leave."
But befre they could, a dark figure entered from the far side.
Torian Vale.
He walked straight tward Kairo and offered a duel.
"Not in the arena," Torian said. "Tonight. In the Hall of Cinders. No witesses. Just you and me."
Kairo did't blink.
"Agreed.
Hall of Cindrs
Midnight. The Hall of Cinders.
A chamber used only for ancient rites and secret duels.
Kairo waited, shrtles, runes drawn in blood along his chest.
Torian entered. No audence. No judges
Just the firelight.
"You're not like the others," Torian said. "You fight like someone who's died before."
Kairo's voice whas calm. "Maybe I have."
They clashed.
Torian summoned twin swords of fire and ligtning.
Kairo matched him—bare hands, dancing through strkes with unnatural grace.
Blow after blow, the flames twisted into spirals around them.
Then Kairo whispered a forbidden word—and his body vanishd into shadows.
Torian gasped.
A punch struc him from behind.
He turned, slashed—nothing.
Another blow from above.
Torian fell, coughing blood.
Kairo stood over him, breathing hard.
"I'm not your enemy" he said.
Torian looked up, eyes wild.
"Then what are you?"
Kairo's eyes glowed.
"I'm the mistake your word forgot to erase."
BA Star Begin to Burn
Kairo left the Hall as the firelight died.
Above him, the star shimered faintly through the acdemy dome.
Lyra waited outside, eyes wide.
"Did you kill him?"
"No," Kairo said. "But he'll thnk twice."
She noded, but concern painted her face.
"You're getting stroger. Faster. But what if that power isn't just yours?"
Kairo looked at his hands.
"I don't care anymore.
And for the first time, Lyra didn't argue.
Because she, too, had seen what was coming.
And they were runing out of time.