(Kael, Age 13 — First Week at the Academy)
⸻
I. The Dream of the Architect
Light.
Soft at first, then blinding—an endless ocean of white-gold radiance.
Kael stood weightless in the midst of it.
Before him, the Prime Architect took form—robes woven of shifting constellations, eyes like galaxies swirling through eternity. Every breath carried the weight of worlds.
"Kael Varos," the Architect said—voice gentle, yet echoing through his bones. "A storm gathers at your doorstep."
Shadows coalesced behind the god—figures masked in bone-white, daggers glistening with oily poison. Around them, silhouettes flickered into being:
Serin's sharp, focused gaze.
Ryven's wild, fiery aura.
Korran's solid, unyielding stance.
Nira's healing light like emerald water.
Lyria's Soul Source glowing blue, burning closest to Kael's side.
"These threads will shape your fate," the Architect continued. "Tonight you face your first true crucible. Do not face it alone."
Kael stepped forward, fists clenched. "What must I do?"
The Architect's eyes softened.
"Awaken, my child."
The light splintered—
⸻
II. Awakening to Danger
"Child. Kael. Wake up."
Kael's eyes snapped open.
Valdyros hovered above him in his small form, wings half-unfurled, golden eyes blazing with alarm.
« Darkness rises from beneath us, » Valdyros sent. « Many feet. Trained. Intent to kill. »
Across the room, Serin was already awake, seated on his bed with his practice blade in hand, eyes narrowed toward the window.
"You felt it too," he said.
Kael swung his legs over the side of the bed. "It's coming from the courtyard."
Serin's expression sharpened. "The courtyard—that's where—"
"Lyria and Nira are," Kael finished.
They both moved.
Kael reached the door—then stopped.
"Wait." His voice was steady, but his heart thrummed. "We need the others."
⸻
III. Brothers-in-Arms
Kael pounded on the next door.
Ryven yanked it open almost immediately, shirt half-on, red hair at war with gravity.
"Why do you look like death just personally delivered a letter?" Ryven asked.
"We might meet it if we're slow," Kael replied.
Ryven grabbed his sword. "Say less."
They turned.
Korran was already in the hallway, fully dressed, boots on, training blade in hand.
"I sensed unfamiliar movement patterns below us," Korran said quietly. "It wasn't instructors."
Valdyros flared his wings.
« Move quickly, » he sent to all three at once. « Or blood will stain the courtyard. »
Ryven's jaw dropped."DID HE JUST TALK INSIDE MY SKULL?"
Korran blinked. "…He did."
Serin stepped out beside them, completely composed. "Telepathy. Dragon-kind are capable of it."
Valdyros lifted his chin.« And you are capable of stating the obvious, noble child. »
Ryven's eyes widened. "He insults you in your head too?"
"No time," Kael cut in. "We move. Now."
They sprinted into the night.
⸻
IV. The Ambush
The courtyard was wrong.
Silent. Too silent.
Moonlight washed over stone, fountains, and training pillars. Lyria and Nira were walking back from a late night class—and from the shadows, over eight assassins encircling Lyria and Nira.
The girls stood back-to-back in the center.
Lyria's Soul Source glowed around her arms in swirling blue streams. Nira's hands shone emerald-bright, ready to heal or shield at a moment's notice.
One assassin looked to another and said, voice flat and distorted. "He's not among them."
Two assassins charged toward the girls, Lyria summons water whips, spinning in the air, she throws the whips towards the first assassin while Nira creates a barrier shield to block the second assassins attack. The assassins formidably counter dodging the whips and breaking down the barrier pushing the girl more into the center of the courtyard.
Kael and the others hear the commotion.
"It's coming from over there", said Serin.
Kael and the other boys ran to the noise in impeccable speed.
"KAEL!" Lyria shouted as soon as she saw him.
Eight masked heads turned.
Kael charges and punches one assassin sending him flying creating an opening in the circle allowing them to meet in the center with Lyria and Nira.
Their leader stepped forward. His bone-white mask gleamed like a skull. His presence was cold, efficient, utterly devoid of fear.
"Our master commands a test," he said, voice flat and distorted. "If the Vessel proves unworthy, he dies. All who stand with him… share his fate."
"Not happening," Ryven snapped, spinning his sword into guard.
"They will not touch you," Korran told the girls.
Serin lifted his blade—not with panic, but precision. "We fight."
Kael moved to Lyria's side. "You two okay?"
Lyria gave a tense nod. "We've held them so far."
Nira swallowed. "They're strong. They move like… like they've done this before."
Kael's lips tightened.
The lead assassin raised his hand.
"Begin."
⸻
V. Battle of Eight — A Storm in Motion
The courtyard erupted.
Lyria
Blue Soul Source flared around her fists. She slipped past a blade, pivoted on her heel, and drove a spinning kick into an assassin's chest.
THOOM.
Stone cracked where he landed.
Nira
She danced between the others—casting rapid healing bursts to her allies, and casting barriers blocking and throwing off the assassins attacks. Her power didn't just restore; it sharpened reflexes, steadied breath, turned near-misses into clean dodges.
Ryven
He was chaos incarnate.
"Too slow!" he laughed, flipping off a pillar, redirecting an incoming strike with reckless flair. He vaulted over one assassin, heel-kicking him mid-air and sending him sprawling.
"Next!"
Korran
He was a wall.
Three assassins struck at once. Korran intercepted all of them, Body Source reinforcing his forearms as he parried, shoved, and slammed one into another.
"You're not getting past me," he growled.
Serin
He was precision.
Every movement minimal. Every counter perfect.
"You overcommit," he said as he turned one assassin's thrust aside and clipped the man's mask with the hilt of his blade, sending him crumpling.
"Sloppy footwork," he noted to another, using the assassin's momentum to send him crashing into a wall.
Valdyros
Lightning sparked softly along his scales as he swooped overhead, striking non-lethally but decisively.
He dove and hammered an assassin in the chest with a condensed bolt.
The man slammed into the ground, smoking.
« Pathetic, » Valdyros snorted. A flick of his tail sent another spinning.
And through it all—
Kael
He moved like a storm given human form.
Wind reinforced his steps, accelerating his dashes, softening his landings. Mind Source sharpened everything—angles, timing, distance—so that every blade swing felt pre-calculated.
He engaged two assassins at once—parrying, redirecting, knocking one's wrist sideways while kicking the other's knee.
He was calm. Almost too calm.
Part of him—deep down—was enjoying the test. Testing his training. Testing where his limits now lay.
"KAEL!" Serin shouted over the clash. "Less admiring, more cutting!"
Kael smirked.
That heartbeat of distraction was enough.
⸻
VI. The Poison Blade
The ninth presence.
He didn't see him—he felt him, a fraction too late.
An assassin slid out of the shadow behind Kael—silent, perfectly timed, blade coated in viscous black poison. Valdyros spun, eyes widening.
« BEHIND— »
"KAEL!!" Lyria screamed.
She didn't hesitate.
She threw herself into him, shoving him sideways—
SHHNK.
The dagger plunged into her shoulder instead.
Lyria's breath caught.
Then she screamed—raw, sudden, terrifying.
"NO!" Kael caught her as she fell, her weight collapsing into his arms.
Dark veins spidered rapidly from the wound.
"Lyria—Lyria, stay with me—!"
The group reassembled around Lyria.
Nira dropped to her knees, hands glowing. "Hold her steady!"
Nira poured healing Source into the wound.
Nothing.
Her eyes went wide. "It's—this poison—Kael, it's stripping the Source from wherever it touches—!"
Lyria's breathing hitched, then faltered.
The lead assassin approached, unhurried, as if the chaos around them had nothing to do with him. He held his hand up ordering the assassins to cease.
"The antidote is in our keeping," he said mildly. "If you wish her to live, Vessel… you will come with us. Quietly."
Kael's hands shook.
His heart hammered.
A cold, razor-edged fury snapped through him, cutting through fear.
Something deep inside finally stopped holding back.
⸻
VII. The Storm Awakens
Lightning crawled across Kael's skin.
Not gentle. Not subtle.
Violent.
Wind roared to life around him, swirling up from the ground like a rising cyclone. His hair lifted in the charged air, dark strands haloed by crackling light.
The sky darkened and rain began to pour down.
The assassins looked at each other confused, the leader held his hand out confused saying, " Rain?"
"Kael—" Serin whispered, eyes widening.
« Child—! » Valdyros sent sharply. « Control it! If you push too far— »
Too late.
Something ancient and buried surged upward.
Body Source blazed. Mind Source sharpened to an icy edge. Soul Source—so long restrained—forced itself into the open in a jagged, incomplete awakening.
His irises burned storm-gold.
Lightning laced across his arms and shoulders in jagged bands. A cloak of raw, unstable energy.
The air itself bowed.
A wave of pressure exploded outward—
BOOM.
Six of the assassins slammed flat to the stone, pinned by invisible force. Two more dropped to their knees, limbs shaking violently as they fought just to stay conscious.
Even the leader staggered, forced down onto one knee, mask fracturing down the middle.
Ryven crashed to two hands, eyes wide. "What—what is this…?"
Korran grunted, bracing himself on one knee and hand. "His… aura…"
Nira shielded Lyria with her body, eyes squeezed shut against the pressure struggling.
Serin stood barely standing under the pressure, trembling—not in fear, but in awe—teeth gritted as he forced himself upright.
"This is…" he rasped. "This is a king's… Presence…"
Then Serin also dropped to one knee under the immense pressure.
Valdyros stared, shock flickering across his draconic face.
« An echo of it, » he whispered into their minds. « A hatchling's version. But real. »
Kael stepped forward, rain drops dodging his body, every motion trailed by crackling arcs of white-blue light.
His voice, when he spoke, was low and terrifyingly calm.
"Give me the antidote."
No one answered. They tried to push themselves up then.....
BOOM!
Kael increased the pressure sending them all crashing face first into the stone ground breaking it apart.
The leader lifts his head.
Kael continues to walk toward him.
Power surged higher, the air shaking around him.
"Give me the antidote."
Kael kneels down to his cracked masked face
"Or," Kael said, lightning crawling up his neck, "you all die here."
The courtyard held its breath.
The storm had awakened.