Morning light crawled across Ember Academy like nervous flame.
After the explosion, the campus had turned quiet — too quiet.
Every whisper followed Yuj through the halls: "That's the boy who cracked the mountain…"
He tried to ignore them, tugging at his bandages as Kaen walked beside him.
"Still alive," Kaen muttered. "Guess you're harder to kill than you look."
Yuj smirked. "Careful. I might start believing that was a compliment."
"It wasn't."
For the first time since the trial, a trace of dry humor crossed Kaen's usually calm face.
Their mentor's cane struck stone — thunk.
Alaric's voice echoed down the corridor. "Keep the chatter low, heroes. We're guests today."
He led them into the courtyard, where every class had gathered around a massive circular pit veiled in mist.
The air shimmered green instead of red; the heat smelled of grass, not ash.
At the edge stood Headmaster Varrin — tall, silver-haired, robes etched with geometric fire runes that looked more like chains than ornaments.
His smile was thin.
"Fire is loyalty," he said, voice cutting through the murmurs. "But only to those who understand sacrifice. Today you'll see a relic from before Ember itself — the Flower Well. The place where flame once bowed to life."
Yuj frowned. "That guy's creepy," he whispered to Alaric.
Alaric didn't look away from the stage. "Don't trust the smile."
The headmaster raised his hands; the mist parted, revealing a deep well carved with vines and flames interlocking like lovers.
A faint glow pulsed from below — green light breathing like a heartbeat.
Students were told to approach one by one, placing their marked hands on the well's rim to test resonance.
One after another, nothing happened — until Kaen stepped forward.
His palm touched the ancient stone, and the air snapped.
Flame and frost burst from his arm, colliding midair.
The temperature swung from boiling to freezing in a single breath.
Frost crept up the walls; petals of ice fell like snow.
Yuj shouted, "Kaen! Step back!"
But Kaen didn't move. His expression went blank, pupils narrowing into crimson slits.
"It's calling," he whispered.
The well answered.
A blinding column of green light shot upward, coiling around his arm.
Symbols flared across the rim — ancient, not academy-made.
"THE FROZEN VESSEL AWAITS."
The phrase burned itself into stone.
Alaric reacted first. "Everyone back!"
He slammed his cane down; runes burst from the ground, forming a barrier that trapped the light.
The shockwave nearly threw Yuj off his feet. He grabbed Kaen, dragging him away as frost spread like veins through the marble floor.
The headmaster didn't move.
He simply watched, eyes glinting with something that wasn't surprise.
When it was finally over, Kaen collapsed — his arm pale blue, veins outlined with black threads.
The well dimmed again, as if nothing had happened.
Hours later, Yuj sat outside the infirmary, tapping his knee.
Alaric emerged, face tight.
"How bad?" Yuj asked.
"He'll live," Alaric said, voice clipped. "But something else came through with him.
That well wasn't a relic — it's a conduit."
"A conduit for what?"
Before Alaric could answer, the corridor darkened.
Headmaster Varrin approached, his steps soundless.
The smell of cold iron followed him.
"Relax," Varrin said softly. "The boy's Iceflame is a miracle, not a curse. You should be proud, Alaric. Two exceptional students, both blessed by destiny."
Alaric didn't smile. "Or damned by it."
Their gazes met — teacher and master. Sparks, invisible but lethal, filled the space between them.
Varrin turned away, cloak whispering against the floor. "Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on both."
The words felt less like a promise and more like a threat.
Later that night, Kaen stirred awake.
The room was quiet, except for the faint drip of melted frost.
Yuj sat beside his bed, pretending not to have dozed off.
"You're awake!" Yuj said, relief cutting through exhaustion. "You scared half the academy today."
Kaen blinked. "Did I?" His tone was oddly calm.
"Yeah, you— you almost froze the headmaster's eyebrows."
Kaen's lips twitched — maybe a smile, maybe not.
"The well… it spoke to me."
"What did it say?"
He looked at his hands. "It said… obey."
The air seemed to tighten.
Yuj frowned. "You sure it wasn't just the echo? Or your head playing tricks?"
Kaen looked up, and for a heartbeat his eyes were empty — black rings around blue pupils, reflecting the faint glow of his mark.
Then it was gone.
"I'm fine," he said flatly. "The fire listens now."
Yuj wanted to argue, but Alaric entered before he could.
"Enough talk. Both of you, rest. Tomorrow we pretend none of this happened."
"Pretend?" Yuj asked. "That's your plan?"
Alaric met his eyes. "Until I know who's pulling the strings — yes."
When night deepened, Kaen lay staring at the ceiling.
The cold in his chest no longer felt like his own.
He turned toward the mirror beside the bed — and froze.
His reflection smiled before he did.
A voice slid through his mind like cracked ice:
"Bring the seed. The god sleeps beneath the flame."
Kaen clutched his pendant — the academy's emblem, a tiny red crest — and turned it over.
On the back, a symbol glowed faintly: the same one from the Flower Well.
He whispered, "Why does the academy's mark… match the one from the well?"
The reflection answered with his own voice — but twisted, distant.
"Because, Kaen… the academy belongs to us."
His reflection's eyes turned black, and a thin crack split the glass.