The morning sun was high when the announcement came.
"Today's training exercise will be a combat simulation," Professor Armin's voice echoed through the courtyard. "Pairs will face each other. Use your powers, strategize, and demonstrate control. Remember—this is not just strength. Intelligence and adaptability matter."
Kael's stomach sank. Fighting? He had no power yet.
"Finally," Toren muttered, cracking his knuckles. Black wings unfurling, his shadow stretched across the ground like claws. "I get to crush the weakling myself."
Kael's fists clenched, but before he could respond, Lyra grabbed his arm. "Focus on control, not fear," she whispered. "Even if you don't have power yet, you can use your mind, your strategy."
Pairs were chosen. Kael's partner was a boy named Eren, a quiet student with icy blue eyes. When Eren extended his hands, a thin layer of frost covered the ground around him. Even in the early morning, the cold crept toward Kael's shoes.
The opponent? Toren and Kiro. Fire and shadow, power and cruelty combined. The crowd murmured, expecting an easy victory for them.
"Begin!" Armin shouted.
Toren immediately lunged, shadow tendrils wrapping around the air, aiming to pin Eren in place. Sparks of fire hissed from Kiro's fists as he swung at Kael, scorching the cobblestones.
Kael dodged instinctively, even though he had nothing to fight back. His heartbeat raced. The shadow inside his chest stirred faintly. Something moved—just a flicker.
Eren raised his hands. Frost shot forward, spreading rapidly across the courtyard. The shadow tendrils froze mid-air, cracking and splintering. Toren stumbled, surprised.
Kael blinked. Even without his power, his partner's control was impressive. He realized he could use strategy instead of strength.
Lyra shouted from the sidelines. "Kael! Watch their patterns! Predict their next move!"
Kael focused. Kiro's fireballs came in arcs, Toren's shadow lashes slithered unpredictably. By observing, Kael managed to dodge them, his movements faster than before. Every successful dodge made the flicker inside his chest pulse stronger.
Then came the first real opportunity. Kiro launched a fireball toward Eren, intending to break the frozen barrier. Kael acted without thinking. He jumped in front, using Eren as a shield. The fireball hit him squarely. Pain seared his arm—but something incredible happened.
A faint light shimmered around him. Not much, barely visible—but it pushed the fireball away. The crowd gasped.
Lyra's eyes widened. "Kael…" she whispered.
Toren's smirk faltered. "What the—?!"
Kael's pulse raced. The shadow in his chest reacted, more real, more tangible than ever before. He had done something. He didn't know what, but it had worked.
The fight continued. Eren used frost to control the battlefield. Toren tried to ensnare them with shadows. Kiro hurled fireballs. Kael dodged, moved, and for brief flashes, the hidden power inside him flickered, subtly influencing the outcome.
At one point, Kael felt a sharp pain in his head—the familiar headache from his dreams. The visions surged: collapsed mountains, burning skies, and the enormous shadow looming over everything.
And then, in a moment of instinct, Kael's hands glowed faintly. Not enough to hurt anyone, not enough to be a weapon. But enough to push back Kiro's fireball entirely.
The courtyard went silent. Even Professor Armin raised an eyebrow.
Toren's shadow lashes recoiled. "Impossible," he muttered.
Kael's heart pounded. He hadn't controlled it. He didn't know how it happened. But it had—just for a second. A tiny spark of his true potential had awoken.
Lyra ran to him, eyes shining. "You felt it, didn't you? That's the start, Kael! That's the spark!"
Kael looked at his hands, trembling. The faint glow faded, leaving him exhausted but alive.
The fight ended with Toren and Kiro retreating, surprised and humiliated. Eren patted Kael's shoulder. "Good instincts," he said quietly. "You're stronger than you think."
Kael nodded, still in shock. His heart raced, his head throbbed, but a fire had ignited within him. He had no idea how powerful he would become, or what the shadow inside him truly was—but for the first time, he felt capable, seen, and alive.
That evening, as Kael lay in bed, the pain in his head came again, stronger. The visions returned, sharper, more vivid. The colossal shadow loomed closer.
And this time, a voice—deep, resonant, impossible to ignore—spoke clearly:
"Awaken fully, child of Origin… the time approaches."
Kael woke gasping, sweat soaking his hair. Lyra was already outside his window, waiting, concern etched on her face.
"You did it," she whispered. "I knew it. You're starting to awaken. And once you understand it, nothing in this world—or beyond—can stop you."
Kael looked out at the moonlit sky. Somewhere, deep inside, something ancient and vast stirred. Watching. Waiting.
The powerless boy was beginning to ignite the first sparks of his hidden destiny.