The chamber was silent except for the faint, uneven rhythm of Kael's breathing. His body burned with a strange duality—at one moment scorching hot, the next chillingly cold—as though two worlds warred within him.
Vice Master Sylara sat at his bedside, her hands hovering above his chest, sending streams of steady qi into his meridians. Her aura was calm and precise, wrapping around his broken veins, guiding his chaotic energy into order.
"Hold on," she whispered. "If you collapse now, all that effort will be wasted. You are not allowed to fall, Kael."
Her qi pulsed once more, flowing like a gentle river through his body. Slowly, his complexion eased, the violent tremors fading into softer breaths.
The door behind her creaked.
Arathor, the Academy Master, stepped in. His robes trailed faintly with the remnants of the memory-erasing ritual, his gaze weary but still as sharp as a blade. Several elders followed, their expressions blank but curious—empty of the true memory of what had just occurred, yet aware that something dangerous had taken place.
They paused when they saw Sylara working over Kael.
---
The Fabricated Truth
"Sylara," Arathor said, his deep voice steady. "What is the meaning of this? Why is Kael unconscious when the others only look fatigued?"
Without hesitation, Sylara looked up. Her expression was smooth, her lie ready.
"The intruder used trickery."
Murmurs spread among the elders.
"Trickery?"
"Yes," Sylara said firmly, her qi still pressing into Kael. "At dawn, before the trial began, he slipped a powerful pill into the students' water. Nearly all of them drank it before entering the maze. Its poison acted as a sedative, mixed with a subtle qi-disrupting smoke. Once the trial began, it spread through the air. That is why the students collapsed so easily."
"And you?" one elder asked.
Sylara's gaze sharpened. "I never drink before dawn when a trial is near. My training requires an empty stomach and clear spirit. That is why I remained unaffected. And Kael…" she glanced down at him, her expression softening for only a heartbeat, "Kael did not drink either. By fortune, or perhaps by instinct, he avoided the trap. That is why he was the only one still able to resist."
The elders nodded, some muttering about vigilance and discipline.
Arathor studied her in silence. He felt the faint stirrings of doubt within him, but his erased memory left him without foundation. All he had now was Sylara's word—and her word had never failed him.
---
Declaring the Victor
"So," one of the instructors asked cautiously, "does this mean the trial's results…?"
Sylara nodded, her voice firm. "The intruder was defeated, but not before Kael pushed himself to the brink of death. His condition now is proof of his struggle. He is the rightful victor of the Third Trial. He fought, resisted, and endured when all others fell. By the academy's own rules, that makes him the winner."
Another elder frowned. "But if he is the only one, what of the others? Shouldn't they be disqualified?"
"No," Arathor interrupted at last. His voice was calm, authoritative. "The intruder's interference invalidates the conditions of the trial. Punishing the students for falling prey to an outside force would be unjust. But Sylara is correct—Kael's perseverance stands above the rest. He will be acknowledged as the leading victor, though the others will still pass with honor."
The tension in the hall eased. The elders bowed their heads in agreement.
---
Behind Closed Doors
When the elders dispersed to arrange the academy's announcements, only Arathor and Sylara remained in the chamber. The faint glow of Kael's body pulsed against the walls like a heartbeat of gold.
Arathor's eyes lingered on it. "Sylara," he said slowly, "I feel like, I erased my memory of something before… yet even so, I feel something strange. A whisper in the depths of my soul, like I witnessed a miracle. Tell me, are you hiding something from me?"
Sylara's expression did not change. She pressed more qi into Kael's chest and said evenly, "I told you the truth. The intruder used poison, and Kael alone resisted. That is all."
Arathor studied her for a long, tense moment. Then, with a faint exhale, he looked away. "Very well. I will trust you. You have never lied to me before."
Her lips tightened, but she said nothing.
Arathor turned, walking toward the door. His robes brushed across the floor like waves. "Kael's name will be remembered for this victory. But mark my words, Sylara: from this day forth, his path will no longer be simple. Protect him well. For reasons I cannot remember, I know this boy is important."
The door closed behind him.
---
A Silent Promise
Alone once more, Sylara gazed down at Kael's unconscious face. The faint golden light flickered again across his veins, a reminder of the Immortal Book still working within him.
She reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from his forehead.
"You don't know yet, do you?" she murmured. "The weight you now carry. The heavens themselves will one day hunt you for it. And I am the only one who remembers what you truly are."
Her hand lingered over his chest, her qi steady and warm.
"I will guide you. I will protect you. And when the day comes that you must stand against gods themselves… I will stand beside you."
Outside, the academy bustled with preparations, unaware of the truth sealed within those walls.
And in his deep slumber, Kael's body trembled once more as the power of the Immortal Book rewrote him, preparing him for a future no one else could yet imagine.