The morning light seeped through the dorm's crystal window, scattering across the floor like fragments of gold. Rivan sat at the edge of his bed, hands resting on his knees, eyes fixed on the faintly glowing sigils etched into the wall.
They pulsed—slow, steady—matching the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Sleep hadn't helped; his questions had only grown teeth.
That whisper from the dream still lingered at the edge of his thoughts.
Starborn…
He dragged a hand through his hair, frustration slipping into his sigh. "Why do I keep hearing that?"
When he brushed his fingers against the nearest sigil, a spark of mana snapped at his skin. It didn't hurt—it recognized him. The glow flared briefly, then dimmed, as if greeting him before fading back into silence.
A strange chill crawled down his spine.
"Is this dorm… alive?"
The thought unsettled him more than he wanted to admit. Nothing in this place felt normal—not the dreams, not the people, not the way mana itself seemed to breathe around him.
The halls outside were already filled with noise. Students walked in groups, robes rustling, conversations humming like insects in the air.
Rivan noticed the colors—white for mages, grey for novices, blue for those in combat training.
He wore the plain grey robe of a new arrival, but it didn't stop the whispers that followed him.
"That's him."
"The one from the mana surge."
"They said the room nearly collapsed."
He kept his gaze forward. The marble floor reflected his faint mana trail as he walked, light clinging to his every step like it refused to let go.
By the time he reached the main training chamber, Instructor Marnell was already waiting—a tall man with streaks of silver in his beard and an expression that could freeze molten rock.
Beside him stood Liora, her arms crossed, hair tied back in a neat braid. Her eyes flicked toward Rivan once, expression unreadable—yet something in her stance screamed tension barely contained.
"Today," Marnell said, voice sharp as steel, "we conduct stability checks. Yesterday's incident has shown a fluctuation in our mana network. Each of you will undergo resonance calibration."
A crystal pillar stood at the center of the room, runes circling it in midair like lazy fireflies. The Resonance Pillar—a tool that measured one's control and affinity with mana.
Rivan felt his stomach tighten.
This wasn't a routine test. It was because of him.
One by one, students stepped up, placed their hands on the crystal, and waited for the faint blue glow.
Everything went smoothly—until his turn.
When Rivan's palm touched the surface, the entire chamber brightened.
Not blue—gold.
The crystal screamed. The air trembled like thunder trapped in a jar, lines of light cracking through the pillar like molten glass. The patterns twisted, rearranging themselves into a shape no one had seen before.
Gasps filled the room.
"That's… not academy-grade magic!"
"What kind of reading is that!?"
Marnell's eyes widened for the first time since Rivan had met him. "That's impossible…"
Before he could react, Liora stepped in quickly, voice controlled but sharp. "Stop the test!"
The pillar pulsed once more, then shattered.
Mana poured out like liquid light, flooding the room in a blinding wave.
Rivan staggered back, hand burning with golden veins of energy.
And through that blinding light, the voice returned—calm, ancient, and all too familiar.
"You shouldn't have done that."
The glow vanished. Silence followed.
When his vision cleared, the other students had stepped away, their eyes caught between fear and awe.
Marnell's gaze cut into him. "You're not from any guild, are you?"
Rivan's throat went dry. He opened his mouth—
Liora grabbed his wrist before he could speak. Her grip was firm, warning.
"Enough for today. He needs rest," she said flatly.
Marnell didn't argue, but his stare lingered.
The corridors were quieter this time as Liora led him out.
She walked fast, the faint glow of her mana tracing along the runes on her wristband.
Rivan followed silently, trying to read her expression—but she kept her eyes forward.
At the far end of the hall, something shifted in the shadows.
He turned.
A figure stood there—cloaked, face hidden beneath a mask that shimmered like smoke. The same presence he'd felt the night before.
Before he could speak, the figure was gone—like it had dissolved into the air.
Only the faint scent of ozone remained.
His pulse quickened.
They're watching again.
Liora stopped at the dorm door. "Stay inside," she said quietly, eyes meeting his for the first time. "And don't touch anything that glows."
He tried to smile, but her expression didn't change.
Then she left, the door shutting with a faint hum of mana.
That night, Rivan sat by the window, watching the twin moons hang above the academy spires.
His reflection in the glass shimmered faintly, gold light pulsing under his skin—like veins of starlight that refused to fade.
He clenched his fist.
"If this power isn't mine…"
He looked at his hand, the faint glow answering him.
"…then whose is it?"
Thunder rolled across the horizon, though the sky was perfectly clear.
For just a heartbeat, the twin moons flickered—like something vast had blinked back.
Rivan closed his eyes, the whisper echoing again inside his skull—
Starborn… they're searching for you.
He exhaled slowly.
"Then maybe it's time I find out who keeps calling me."
The dorm lights dimmed, leaving only the faint gold glow beneath his skin.
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Author's Note:
Rivan's beginning to understand that the Academy isn't just a place for learning—it's a cage made of secrets. This chapter was all about that shift in tone: from confusion to awareness, from survival to suspicion. The voice that keeps calling him isn't going away… and neither are the eyes watching him.
The next chapter will start revealing what it means to be Starborn—and why that single word makes even the strongest mages uneasy.
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Every bit of support helps me keep building Rivan's world one heartbeat at a time.
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