The morning mist lingered over Aetherion Sanctum, curling through the marble courtyards like a living spirit. The towers stood tall and regal, piercing the silver clouds as mana danced faintly through the air. The world here seemed to hum — the breath of thousands of students, scholars, and warriors blending with the pulsing rhythm of magic.
Ren stood at the edge of the eastern terrace, his reflection staring back at him from the polished stone beneath his feet. The fog coiled around his ankles as if curious, whispering fragments of words he could almost understand. He had spent the past hour in silence, watching the mist shift and glow in the rising light.
Something about that mission wasn't right.
The bandits they'd fought had been too organized, their movements too precise, their mana unnaturally unstable. He could still remember the faint traces of corruption he'd felt beneath his fingers — the stench of abyssal mana that didn't belong in this realm.
"Still brooding, huh?"
Ren turned slightly as Kael's familiar voice broke the silence. His friend stood a few steps behind, hair messy, robes half undone, and a smirk tugging at his lips.
"You've been out here since dawn," Kael said, leaning against the railing beside him. "You planning to turn into a statue or something?"
Ren didn't respond immediately. His violet eyes lingered on the horizon before he finally spoke, his tone quiet but sharp. "Something about what we saw… doesn't fit."
Kael sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "You always say that. 'Doesn't fit,' 'doesn't align,' 'something's wrong.' Sometimes things are just… bad luck, you know?"
Ren glanced at him. "And if it's not luck?"
Kael smirked, then nudged him with his elbow. "Then you'll figure it out like always. You've got that scary brain for a reason."
Ren almost smiled at that, the faintest twitch of his lips betraying amusement. Kael was loud, impulsive, sometimes a little stupid — but he was also the only one who could reach through the fog of Ren's thoughts and make him remember what it felt like to be normal.
The academy bell rang, low and resonant. Both of them turned their heads.
"Council summons," Kael said. "Bet you ten silver it's about the Eryndor mission."
Ren didn't take the bet. He was already walking toward the Great Hall.
The hall was massive, its ceiling enchanted to mirror the sky above. Constellations drifted lazily through clouds of golden dust, and the stone beneath their feet pulsed faintly with mana. Students gathered in silence as the Headmaster appeared at the front — Archmage Valen Solis, radiant in white and gold robes, his eyes calm but infinitely deep.
When he spoke, his voice resonated through every wall. "Students of Aetherion. The corruption in Eryndor was not an isolated event. What you encountered was a symptom — not a cause. The world's balance trembles again."
A murmur rippled through the hall. Ren's attention sharpened.
"The Abyss," Valen continued, his voice heavy with reverence and warning, "has begun to stir."
A chill crept down Ren's spine. He had read about the Abyss — a rift that once split heaven and earth, where gods fell and monsters were born. But even legends spoke of it as myth.
Kael leaned closer and whispered, "The Abyss? You're kidding me."
Ren's gaze didn't leave the Headmaster. His heart beat faster — a rhythm he couldn't control. He didn't know why, but the word Abyss resonated somewhere deep inside him, like a memory long forgotten.
"The sanctum exists to protect, to prepare," Valen said, looking at the gathered students. "Every one of you was brought here not only to learn but to stand guard over this world's fragile peace. The darkness beneath our feet remembers our names."
For a long moment, no one spoke.
When the assembly ended, Ren stayed behind. His thoughts twisted like smoke — fragments of dreams, visions, voices that whispered in languages he couldn't understand. As the hall emptied, he finally turned to leave, but a voice stopped him.
"You've felt it too, haven't you?"
Ren turned sharply. From the shadowed corner stepped Professor Lysandra Veyne. Her long black hair shimmered faintly, and her eyes — deep, rune-etched, and endlessly calm — watched him with quiet curiosity.
"What do you mean?" he asked carefully.
"The pulse," she said softly. "That stirring under your skin when the Headmaster spoke of the Abyss. You feel it because you're connected to it."
Ren frowned. "You're assuming too much."
"I don't assume," she said, stepping closer. "I see. Your mana is layered — fractured. It doesn't flow like a student's should. It feels… ancient. Like it remembers."
Ren's hand tightened at his side. He had never told anyone about the dreams, the strange fragments of memories from lives that weren't his.
"You think I'm connected to the Abyss?" he asked.
"I think the Abyss remembers you," she said. "Whether you want it to or not."
For a moment, they just stood there in silence, moonlight spilling through the stained glass between them. Then Lysandra smiled faintly, as if reading his hesitation.
"Don't let fear define you," she said. "It's not the darkness that destroys us — it's the belief that we're powerless against it."
When she left, Ren stood there for a long while, feeling the weight of her words settle into his chest like a seed taking root.
That night, sleep refused to come. He trained in silence beneath the stars, sword flashing in slow arcs, mana shimmering faintly around his form. Every movement was deliberate, balanced — the precision of someone who had died too many times in too many worlds.
Kael found him near dawn, sweat glistening on his forehead.
"You're at it again," Kael said, yawning. "Do you even sleep?"
Ren didn't stop. "Not when I have questions."
Kael sat down on a nearby rock, watching him. "You ever think maybe you don't need all the answers? Maybe you just… live?"
Ren lowered his sword, breathing hard. "And if I'm not meant to just live?"
Kael frowned at him. "Then maybe the universe should pick someone else."
Ren actually smiled then — small, but real.
They sparred until the sun rose, blades flashing, mana cracking through the air like thunder. They both pushed each other further than anyone else dared, the kind of fight where trust and rivalry intertwined until they were indistinguishable.
It wasn't long before whispers spread through the academy — that the two of them, Ren and Kael, were destined to shape the future of the continent.
But destiny has a way of twisting itself into things far darker than anyone expects.
Weeks later, the Great Hall filled again — this time for a demonstration. Nobles, clan envoys, and adventurers gathered to witness the academy's rising stars. The tension was thick, the air sharp with ambition.
Ren stood with Kael, their robes gleaming with faint enchantments. Eyes turned toward them wherever they went. Fame had found them, though neither asked for it.
"You look like you want to be anywhere else," Kael whispered.
Ren's lips twitched. "I do."
Kael grinned. "Too bad. You're the star attraction."
The ceremony began, but Ren barely heard the speeches. His senses were focused elsewhere — on a faint hum that pulsed at the edge of his awareness. A rhythm that didn't belong to this world.
Then, everything changed.
The air grew heavy. The chandeliers flickered. The mana currents around them twisted violently.
Ren's instincts screamed. He didn't think — he moved.
A dark sigil ignited across the ceiling, black and gold flames spiraling outward. A wave of abyssal energy exploded through the hall. Screams erupted. Students and nobles alike fell to their knees under the crushing pressure.
Ren threw his arm forward, mana flaring as he formed a barrier around Kael and the students nearest him. The impact hit like a mountain falling. Cracks splintered through the marble floor, the very air groaning with power.
When the light finally faded, the hall was half destroyed — pillars crumbled, smoke filling the air. The sigil still burned faintly above them like a scar on the sky.
Kael coughed, pulling himself up. "Ren… what the hell was that?"
Ren stared at the remnants of the sigil. The pattern was identical to one he had seen before — in his visions.
His voice came out quiet, almost trembling. "The Abyss… just answered."