"Off to school, Kael?"
A woman, her feet covered in mud from the fields, called out cheerfully.
"Yes, ma'am," Kael replied with a faint smile.
"Don't run too fast! It's too early to be in such a hurry!" she shouted, amused as she watched the small boy jog down the road.
"This is just light training," Kael's voice drifted back, fading with distance.
The woman chuckled and turned to the farmer beside her.
"Isn't that Arda's boy—the one from the house by the lake?"
"Yes. Poor child," the man sighed. "First his father went off to work in the capital and never came back, and then his mother vanished a year ago."
"I've never seen him go to school before," the man added.
"Well, he just started last week. Hardly ever left the house before that. Only sometimes, when his mother was still around."
"So who's looking after him now?"
"I'm not sure," the woman said, lowering her voice. "But I often see Lina walking toward his house carrying bags full of things. I think she's been taking care of the boy lately."
The farmer exhaled heavily. "Aisshh… poor kid."
---
Only a few children were on the path to school that morning.
From two hundred meters away, Kael, who had been running lightly, began to channel a thin layer of Arkanum into his legs.
The world blurred—green and brown lines rushing past.
Within seconds, he was standing in the silent schoolyard, air still swirling faintly around him.
His breathing was steady, but his pulse raced.
He scanned the courtyard, the gate, the empty windows.
[ "No one saw me." ]
Relief flickered quietly in his chest.
He walked calmly toward the restroom—the only place that offered real solitude this early.
Inside, the faint scent of disinfectant lingered in the cold air.
Kael locked the stall door and raised his hand to chest height.
A translucent blue aura coiled from his palm—cold, spiraling like frozen flame.
A wind invisible to the eye swept through the small space, ruffling his uniform and hair.
The cool sensation crept over his skin, dissolving sweat and fatigue from his morning run.
He lowered his hand. The glow vanished.
Then—
"Hey. You in there."
A voice came from outside, sudden and close.
"You're the new kid everyone's been talking about, right?"
Kael froze. His heartbeat stopped for half a breath.
[ "I didn't hear the door open… Who is that?" ]
He unlocked the stall slowly and stepped out.
A boy he had never seen before leaned against the wall, messy hair, smirking with unearned confidence.
[ "Stay calm. Don't react." ]
Kael's face was still, but the faint tension in his shoulders betrayed him.
"Hey, wait." The boy grinned wider and grabbed Kael's shoulder.
"What's wrong, new kid? Why so tense? You hiding something?"
It wasn't curiosity—it was provocation.
Kael didn't shake him off.
He turned his head slightly, eyes half-lidded, expression blank.
The silence stretched.
The drip from the leaking tap echoed between them.
One second. Two.
The boy's grin faltered. His hand twitched and released.
"Ah… sorry if I said something weird," he stammered with a forced laugh. "Didn't mean anything by it."
Kael didn't answer. He just walked past him—quiet, unhurried, cold.
"Freak," the boy muttered under his breath.
In the empty corridor, Kael finally exhaled. His pulse slowed.
[ "That was too close. I need to be more careful." ]
He remembered Lina's strained face, Ruby's shock the day he lost control.
[ "This secret… it's a burden." ]
[ "A weight that never lets me breathe." ]
---
The classroom was already noisy when Kael entered.
Chatter filled the air, bouncing off walls and desks.
Kael took his usual seat by the window, eyes drifting outside.
He was thinking—not about lessons—but about the black envelope.
A week had passed, and still, he hadn't managed to open it.
Yet something in him whispered: The answer's there.
"Morning, Kael."
"Hey, Kael!"
Ruby waved from the side. Siro sat backward on his chair in front of him, grinning.
"Anyone bother you before I got here?" Siro asked.
"No."
"Tell us if they do," Ruby added.
"Shut up, Ruby. I'll handle it," Siro shot back.
Kael almost smiled—barely, but enough to soften his face.
And that exchange…
made him remember something.
Something from his second day at school.
---
Bang!
The sound of a desk slammed hard.
"Hey, you're Kael, right?"
A girl stood before him—bright blue hair catching the light, eyes sharp, posture confident.
Her very presence seemed to demand attention.
Kael didn't look up. Didn't react.
She frowned, annoyed by his silence, and grabbed his wrist.
"So tell me—just how smart are you, skipping all the way to seventh year?"
That was Lyra Ardelia.
The same loud girl from his first day—the one who never liked him.
She leaned closer, voice dripping sarcasm.
"Honestly, you don't seem that bright. Maybe your parents bribed the school to get you in."
The classroom froze.
Time thickened around Kael.
The air shifted—cold and heavy.
A faint hum of Arkanum vibrated like static between the walls.
The sound of his chair sliding back echoed like a blade drawn from its sheath.
He rose slowly.
He didn't glare.
He simply looked at her—eyes void of emotion, dark and bottomless.
Lyra's breath caught. Her fingers trembled.
[ "What… is this feeling?" ]
Kael inhaled deeply, then spoke, voice low and even.
"Don't."
Her lips parted, but no sound came.
"Don't mention them again."
Each word hit like stone—calm, cold, final.
Before she could react, a hand covered her mouth from behind.
Ruby.
Face pale, eyes wide.
He pulled her away, dragging her toward the door as she struggled.
"Ruby—what the hell! I was just giving him a reality check!" she snapped once outside.
"Quiet," Ruby hissed, eyes hard. "You have no idea what you almost caused."
Lyra blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"
"Kael isn't like us," Ruby said quietly. "And if you push him again, you might regret it. Trust me."
The tone in his voice made her hesitate.
The fire in her chest dimmed, replaced by guilt.
"Oh… poor Kael," she whispered.
Ruby sighed, half in relief, half in pity.
He didn't tell her that Kael could control Arkanum—not yet.
---
"Kriiiing!"
The bell rang, snapping Kael back to the present.
"Hey, Siro—go back to your seat," Ruby said.
The teacher had already entered.
Siro groaned, stretching his arms. "If I'd been there that day," he muttered, "I wouldn't have let that loudmouth say something so stupid."
Kael didn't respond.
He just kept staring out the window.
The room quieted as the lesson began.
Lyra never spoke to him again after that day.
---
Hours passed—six subjects, one break, one long silence.
Kael's gaze stayed on the window, until something on the chalkboard caught his eye.
The teacher was explaining The Fundamentals of Keys and Seals—
how Arkanum patterns could lock, bind, or release energy in the world of Arka.
Kael blinked, leaning slightly forward.
The spiral geometry, the embedded sigils—it looked familiar.
The black envelope.
He raised his hand.
"Sir, what if a seal isn't flat, but concave—with a circular indentation and a pattern within?"
The teacher looked intrigued.
"That would depend on the pattern itself—and where the seal resides, Kael."
Kael nodded, half-listening, mind already spinning.
"It's rare to see you interested," the teacher said, smiling. "Does this topic fascinate you?"
Kael hesitated. Then nodded once.
Their dialogue deepened, ideas bouncing back and forth faster than anyone could follow.
Even Ruby stopped fidgeting.
The rest of the class fell silent.
When the bell rang again—Kriiiing!—no one moved.
"All right," said the teacher, amused. "Let's stop here for now."
"Sir," Ruby raised his hand, "could you maybe continue for a bit? I'll stay. It's interesting."
He smiled knowingly at Kael.
A few others agreed.
Even Lyra kept her eyes on Kael the whole time—curious, regretful, fascinated.
The teacher chuckled. "Very well. Those who wish to leave, may leave. The rest—stay."
Most chose to stay.
"Kael," the teacher said, offering the chalk, "show us what you mean."
Kael stepped forward.
He began to draw—curves, lines, and fractal patterns intertwining like woven silk.
Each motion deliberate, exact, silent.
When he stepped back, the board was filled with an intricate batik-like seal, luminous in its symmetry.
The teacher stared, astonished.
[ "This… isn't from any textbook I know." ]
—To be continued—