Chapter 28
[Bellarith 4th (9th month), Year 1356 of the Arcane Calendar]
| 6:30 AM |
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[Celestara, Room- 305]
Cornelius's voice was the first thing I heard.
"Rise and shine, Kyzen. The world won't wait."
I groaned, rolling onto my side. The nightclothes twisted around me, clinging to all the tossing I'd done.
For a moment, I just sat there, staring at the faint golden stripes of dawn stretching across the dorm floor. The air was cool, sharp in my lungs—cleaner than it had any right to be this early.
Dragging myself upright, I rubbed the sleep from my fish eyes. My uniform hung neatly on the back of my chair, crimson and white with its checkered trim catching the light. I'd change into it soon. For now, the softness of morning still held me.
The routine took over before my thoughts could wander too far. A quick wash, teeth, and—because tradition was tradition—I snapped a little spark of fire magic toward Felix's bed."Oi, wake up, cook."
Predictably, he groaned into his pillow, frost-streaked hair a wild mess. "Too early," came his muffled complaint before he dragged himself toward the bathroom.
By the time he splashed water over his face, I was already lacing my shoes. The day ahead stirred in the back of my mind—Classes ran from 9:00 to 12:45, with a lunch break until 2:00, then continued from 2:00 to 5:00, with short breaks sprinkled in.
No fixed weekly timetable—professors hashed it out internally, and the class representative announced the schedule the day before at dismissal.
I locked the dorm door behind me, leaving Fuyuki inside to his slow start.
Outside, the morning greeted me with a quiet brightness.
The sun had just crept near the academy spires, painting them in gold. Shadows stretched long over the cobblestones, and the crisp air carried that unmistakable promise of a day not yet touched. I breathed deep, feeling it clear the fog of sleep from my head.
I wasn't hungry enough for a full meal, so I cut across the courtyard toward Crusts Delights, the pastry shop nestled near the academy gates.
The bell chimed softly as I stepped inside, and warmth wrapped around me—the smell of butter, sugar, and fresh bread clinging to the air.
Behind the counter, Camie looked up, flour dusting her apron.
Her smile was familiar, practiced, but warm enough to ground the morning.
"Good morning, Camie," I said as I stepped up to the counter.
I scanned the glass case, eyes trailing over rows of neat pastries. Croissants, golden and flaky at the edges. Apple turnovers, their seams bursting with caramelized fruit. Cinnamon rolls, thick with icing. Jam-filled danishes gleamed under the light. And maple-glazed twists, their glossy finish catching my attention.
"Black coffee," I said finally, "and a… maple twist."
Camie jotted it down with a brisk nod, then glanced up.
"Coffee will take about six minutes. Want the pastry now, or should I set it aside until then?"
"Now's fine," I replied, sliding a few coins across the counter.
She scooped up the coins with ease, a faint smudge of flour clinging to her fingers. "Coming right up," she said, reaching for the tongs without missing a beat.
A moment later, the maple twist was set on a small plate in front of me, the warm scent of sugar and butter rising as if to say good morning on its own.
Taking a seat on a chair, I began eating through the twist.
"So, have you decided what to do? , Will you take his offer?" Cornelius asked curiously
I honestly don't see much of a problem in joining them, but I don't trust him; he confuses me.
I leaned back in my chair, absently tapping a finger against the table.
I've still got time to decide anyway… but if what he said about his powers of revelation is true, I'm not ready for this Saturday at all.
Cornelius shimmered faintly at the edge of my vision, tilting his head. "You're sharper than you give yourself credit for. But he… he is the inheritor of Fate. He already proved it—revealing that girl's future with absolute certainty."
I rubbed my temples, letting out a slow sigh. "I know. She's… another problem."
I'm still relearning spells from Kyzen's memory. Right now, I'm only at the point where I can cast up to tier-2 spells without much trouble.
Camie came over with the steaming cup, setting it down gently in front of me.
"Here you go," she said with that familiar warmth.
"Thank you," I replied, deeper than I intended—genuine gratitude welling up from somewhere I couldn't quite name.
I lifted the cup, letting the rich aroma curl into my senses before taking a sip.
The world seemed to pause. For just that fleeting moment, all the worries, the weight of expectations, the thoughts clawing at the back of my mind—gone. Just quiet, and warmth, and the sharp comfort of bitter coffee.
The moment passed, but the calm lingered, and I let it carry me as I pushed my chair back. Slinging my messenger bag over my shoulder, I gave Camie a nod on my way out.
The tiny bell chimed softly as the door closed behind me.
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The common classroom for fourth-year, first-semester students at Celestara Academy was a sight to behold—a vast space that felt both ancient and alive.
Sunlight streamed through tall lancet windows, painting ethereal patterns across polished stone tables. Each table was tiered and curved, designed to balance unity with personal space, creating a sense of order that belied the chaos of adolescent energy.
I slid into my usual spot, leaving the space to my right deliberately empty. Liam was sleeping to my left, head resting over his hands, while Saria took the seat just beyond him, her sharp eyes scanning the room with calculated awareness.
Behind them, Rylan leaned toward Dain, a lopsided smirk playing on his lips as he whispered something that made Dain chuckle. Across the room, Reis stretched casually, one arm draped over the back of his chair, surveying the classroom with an easy grin that contrasted sharply with the rigid stone walls.
"Yo, Kyzen," Rylan called, breaking the low hum of pre-class chatter. His voice carried effortlessly across the tiered space.
"I heard your club's presentation yesterday. That pitch had the whole auditorium buzzing—nice work."
Heads turned briefly, voices overlapping with murmurs of approval.
Liam's ears twitched, betraying his attempt to remain asleep, though a subtle glint of pride flickered in his gaze.
Saria leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her palm. "Did you get any members, though? It's been three days."
Reis tilted his head toward her, a playful glint in his eyes. "Poor guy was too tired to even notice. A few second-years approached our leader for questions after the presentation. Senior Linda handled them, of course. How about your art club? Got anyone new?"
Saria nodded, a modest but genuine smile tugging at her lips. "Well… some of them are newborns to the concept of art, but they seem genuinely interested."
The classroom buzzed softly around us—the low murmur of conversation, the scrape of chairs, and the sunlight warming the stone surfaces, bathing the room in a golden glow.
The space to my right remained deliberately empty, a small, quiet island of calm—something I hoped would stay that way, though deep down, I knew she would come.
I turned to Liam. "Hey… how's your body holding up?"
He exhaled sharply, curling more into his hands. "Pain."
The others and I exchanged a silent glance, understanding each other perfectly.
"R.I.P.," muttered someone nearby. It felt oddly fitting.
Professor Kael, it seemed, was determined not to let him off easy this year either.
After a while, our homeroom teacher arrived.
The chaos dispersed into an organized class within seconds.
That single word carried weight, resonating more than any complaint could.
Professor Torrin, it seemed, was determined not to let him off easy this year either.
After a while, our homeroom teacher arrived. The murmurs of the classroom quieted instantly, chaos folding neatly into order within seconds.
"I see a few new students in the class today," she began, her voice crisp and confident, carrying easily across the room.
"For those who are new, my name is Natla Celtic," she began, her voice carrying clearly across the tiered classroom. "I am your Magic Spells professor, as well as your homeroom teacher for this year. Make sure to submit the assignment due the day after tomorrow—no exceptions."
Rylan, only attending today, shot a shocked glance at Dain, muttering under his breath, "Really?"
Dain tilted his head back slightly, pointing toward his own face with a weary gesture, as if to say, Look at me and my sleep-deprived life. The dark circles under his eyes told the story better than words ever could.
The door creaked, and a girl appeared—back straight, posture stiff but steady. Her face was blank, detached, like the stares burning into her from the class didn't exist.
"Professor," she said, voice even, clipped. "Permission to enter?"
Natla's eyes narrowed. "See that I don't catch you late again."
A nod, nothing more. She stepped inside.
Despair hit me like a sucker punch.
Classes had been my safe zone at Celestara. Not because I was a total nerd—alright, maybe a little—but because they kept me out of Selene's orbit. She was a year behind, chained to her own schedule.
Thank the gods
And now? That fragile peace was shattered. Someone else had been dropped into the gap Selene left.
By the time I snapped out of it, she was already in the seat beside me, silent, not even a glance in my direction. Just staring ahead, cold and indifferent.
Why, gods. Why?
Should I say good morning? Or just shut up and act like she doesn't exist? Women are like puzzle boxes with no damn instructions. Safer to keep my mouth shut—less chance I make myself look like an idiot when she blanks me.
"This Saturday, you'll enter the spirit realm for the first time," Professor Natla's voice cut through my thoughts. "It will happen every two weeks to prepare for next semester's team mission."
The announcement hit like a slap. Two days' notice? Half the class looked ready to riot. Not a surprise to me—I already knew three days ago.
Cornelius's voice echoed in my mind: "It's in your best interest to watch for smoke."
Fists clenched under the desk. I hated half-answers.
"There will be a test assessing mental and physical strength. Those entering the spirit realm should have a bonded spirit. If you don't have one yet, get one before the next expedition."
My fists clenched under the desk.
I hate when people give me half-answers. Just give me the whole damn bread, not the crumbs.
"There will be a test to assess your mental strength and physical fitness. It is also preferable for those entering the spirit realm to have a bonded spirit. If you do not have one yet, make sure you have one by the next expedition."
After that, it settled into a normal class. Professor Natla occupied the entire morning until lunch, explaining in detail
The three main categories of spells and Ciphers:
1. Instantaneous Type
These spells require Veyl essence only at the moment of activation. Once the spell is triggered, the caster no longer needs to channel additional veyl.
Example: using an instantaneous fire spell to create a spark and light a fuse. The spell activates, the effect happens, and it ends immediately.
Typically, these spells are quick, efficient, and useful for small-scale or utility effects.
2. Continuous Type
These spells require the caster to keep channeling Veyl essence as long as the spell remains active. The spell's duration and intensity depend directly on how long and how much Veyl is supplied.
Example: a flamethrower-like fire spell, or a speed-boost spell. As long as the caster maintains the flow of Veyl, the spell continues.
Many higher-tier and more powerful spells fall into this category, since they demand sustained focus and energy.
3. Time-Delayed Type
These spells are prepared in advance and activate after a set amount of time or when certain conditions are met. They are often used as traps, wards, or ambush tools.
Example: a spell that creates an explosive rune that only triggers when someone steps on it.
Their strength lay in strategic placement and preparation, rather than direct combat. This was mainly the domain of Ciphers.
"Man, my head hurts from all this," I muttered. "There was a reason I chose art."
"Let's go for lunch." Liam stood up, nudging my shoulder.
I nodded, pushing myself up with the help of the desk in front. As I turned, I glanced to my right with a sudden recollection.
"Umm… Avelith, we're heading to lunch. Want to join us?"
Avelith turned her face, meeting my eyes for just a second before rising to her feet."Let's go."
Avelith — better known as cookie girl — was one of the four transfer students who had joined in the fourth year. From her looks alone, I could tell she was from beyond the Three Kingdoms, probably a neighboring country. Even her name sounded foreign to these lands. And, well… she had a terrible sense of direction.
I looked ahead at the other three transfers waiting for me.
Elara Veyne, from a family of blacksmiths from Aserath near Seawind Cliffs, seemed more interested in carving her own path than in listening to anyone's opinion.
Torin Cress, also from Aserath from Fisher's End, a tall kid with skills in spirit sync with far too many boat stories, carried the easy grin of someone who'd already learned to laugh at himself first.
And then there was Zhenna Kaer, a demi-human from Zyvaris— all sharp edges and clan-born pride, her defiance as obvious as the braid that snapped behind her like a challenge.
They were waiting for me, their class representative.
Yeah, on the very first day, there had been a vote for the role.
With Kyzen being friendly with almost everyone, and me causing chaos during the first two days of the Academy's opening.
I, for better or worse, ended up in the spotlight.
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The dining hall buzzed with the usual midday chaos — clattering trays.
We had claimed a table near the tall windows, sunlight spilling across half-eaten plates. Everyone dug into their food, chatting in low bursts, but every so often, a pair of curious eyes would sneak toward Avelith.
She, of course, seemed utterly oblivious, sat straight-backed, eating her neatly packed lunch with a kind of calm precision, as though the rest of the hall didn't exist.
Finally, it was Zhenna who voiced what most of us were thinking. She leaned forward, braid swinging, her sharp eyes softened just a little.
"Hey, Avelith. I've been wondering since the first day… why do you always bring your own food?"
There was no hesitation in Avelith's answer. She took another small bite, chewed, and only after swallowing did she say, flatly:
"I don't like, and won't eat, food made by other people."
A few of us blinked, then quickly dropped our eyes back to our plates, pretending to eat. For a heartbeat, even the clatter and chatter of the hall seemed to falter before surging back into its usual noisy rhythm.
And then, like puzzle pieces snapping into place, it hit me.
The cookies. That day I first saw her, nibbling at them as if they were the only thing keeping her going — not a snack, not a treat, but lunch.
Of course. It was the same reason.
"Kyzen, did you see the new paper today about Palladium Academy? It seems a new member of the Duval family has been recognized as the successor," said Victor.
Suddenly, as if signaling him to stop, Liam and Tina, standing beside him, reacted—Liam gave his back a sharp, hard pat, and Tina pinched his thigh, drawing a quick, pained reaction. After a brief moment of confusion, Victor realized why they had done it and swiftly changed the topic. The others, unaware of the context, assumed it was something private and let it go.
But I understood immediately. Just from the family name Duval and Victor's use of the word succession, it was clear. The Duval family is descendants of the god of war, Zeroth's first inheritor, and here, succession didn't refer to the position of family head—it meant he had unlocked his lineage magic, just like I had.
Sorting my thoughts, I muttered to myself, "I wonder what his condition for unlocking the guide was."