The words from the book—"The rift grows. Soon it will split the world"—haunted me through the night. I tossed on the cot, the thin blanket twisted around my legs, the cracked mirror reflecting the faint glow of the mana-lamp. Every time I closed my eyes, the red ink reappeared, spreading like blood on parchment. The distant scratch in the walls had stopped, but the silence was worse. It left room for the thoughts to crowd in.
Rifts.
The book had mentioned them before—openings to the Abyss, widening with the Aschenmoon. But now it felt personal. The rift grows. Is that me? Am I the rift? Or the thing that's splitting the world? The prophecy from earlier—betrayal, death—mixed with the new line, creating a tangled knot in my chest. One step forward. One step back. I was moving, but where? Toward heroes, the book said. Toward shadows.
I sat up, rubbing my arms. The scars were still there, pink and raised, a constant reminder of the watchers. The poison was dormant, but the cold it left behind clung to my bones. My mana felt… off, slower to respond, colder than before. I flexed my fingers. They obeyed, but with a delay, like an echo.
The book sat on the desk, closed, silent. I didn't open it. Not tonight.
I lay back down. Sleep came eventually—fitful, dreamless.
Morning came far too soon.
The mana lamp flickered to life with the dawn bell, tearing me from a half-formed dream. I pushed myself upright, head heavy, arms aching.
Saturday already.
My first week at the academy was almost over. One last time Classes today. Tomorrow was Sunday—time to rest… or maybe a quest, if I wanted to gain some real experience. I should ask Elara and Lyra what they thought.
The cold of the basement crept through the thin blanket as I dressed slowly—uniform first, sleeves pulled down, bandages hidden. The scars tugged with every movement, a dull, familiar pain. Not gone. Just… manageable.
I headed out.
The training hall was the same as yesterday—early risers already sparring in the main circles, mana flashing in controlled bursts. Elara and Lyra were waiting in our small side circle.
Elara nodded as I entered. "On time."
Lyra grinned. "You look like death. Rough night?"
I glanced between them. "The book—i read a part of it alone, i'm sorry."
Their expressions shifted—serious.
Elara: "We'll talk about it later. Train first."
We started.
Mana circulation. Breathe. Feel. Hold.
My mana stirred—cold, sluggish. It moved, but like wading through snow. I held it longer than yesterday.
Lyra: "Better. Now reflex."
She threw light pulses—green orbs. I blocked with the dagger. Missed. Blocked. Missed less.
Elara: "Your mana's responding. Keep pushing."
We sparred for two hours. Sweat. Pain. Progress. By the end, I was exhausted, but the cold in my mana felt less like a barrier. More like… part of me.
Elara lowered her hands. "Enough. You're done for now."
Lyra wiped her forehead. "Not bad, Eryndor. Not bad at all."
I exhaled, leaning on my knees. "I feel… better."
Elara nodded. "You are. The cold is still there, but it's listening now. Progress."
Lyra grinned. "See? Told you. You're getting it."
I straightened, wiping sweat from my brow. My voice was quieter. "There's something else."
They both looked at me—instantly alert.
Elara: "The book?"
I nodded. "Last night. After you left. I opened it alone. New words appeared."
Lyra stepped closer. "What did it say?"
I swallowed. "The rift grows. Soon it will split the world."
Silence.
Elara's expression hardened. "The rift… again."
Lyra's grin vanished. "It's getting more direct. First 'Soon'. Now 'the rift grows'. It's talking about you."
Elara crossed her arms. "Or about what you're doing to the story. Every time you change something—training with us, reading the book, surviving the watchers—the rift widens. The book notices."
I looked down at my hands. "What if I'm the rift? What if I'm splitting everything just by being here?"
Lyra put a hand on my shoulder. "Then we close it. Together. We don't let it split anything."
Elara's voice was firm. "We stick to the plan. No more reading alone. No more secrets from each other. we read it together—from now on. We figure out what it's trying to say."
I nodded. "Okay."
Lyra squeezed my shoulder. "Now go to class. Don't be late."
Elara: "We'll see you later. But we will see each other in the Rune class with Elowyn. Until then Don't push too hard."
They turned—Elara toward the rune wing, Lyra toward light magic theory.
I watched them go—and then headed to my own class.
The corridor felt colder without them.
But the words—"The rift grows"—stayed with me.
Professor Thorne's Mana Theory was in the same room as always—small, sparse, scarred desks, chalkboard etched with faint runes. F-Class students trickled in—commoners like me, a mix of whispers and glances.
I took my seat in the back.
Then the door opened.
Celine de Luthaine entered, followed by Raiden Veylthorne, Kael Nachtschatten, Silas Ardent, Mira Solvine, Elira Voss, and Taren Voss.
They weren't supposed to be here. F-Class. But Professor Thorne glanced at them, nodded once, and continued preparing.
Raiden sat in the center, golden hair catching the light. Kael beside him, dark and silent. Celine near the front, graceful as always. Silas next to her, solid and steady. Mira in the middle, book open already. Elira with Taren in the back—Taren smirking as he spotted me.
Heads turned. Whispers started.
Professor Thorne cleared his throat. "Settle down. Today, we review mana resonance and affinity alignment—how your core resonates with the world's mana flow, and why some affinities align naturally while others… resist."
Questions flew.
Raiden answered one perfectly—light affinity resonance example.
Kael corrected another—shadow resistance and misalignment.
Celine added a divine note on harmonious alignment.
Silas asked about knight mana resonance under pressure.
Mira spoke on alchemist infusions and affinity tuning.
Elira stayed quiet.
Taren sneered at a F-Class student's question about unstable cores.
Then Thorne called on me.
"Vale. Explain what happens when an undefined affinity tries to resonate."
I answered quietly. "It resists. The mana doesn't flow smoothly. It fights the core. Leaks. Cold spots. Instability."
Thorne nodded. "Correct. And why?"
I hesitated. "Because… the core doesn't know what shape to take. No bloodline. No guide."
Thorne: "Precisely. Alignment requires identity. Without it… the rift grows."
The room went quiet.
Taren laughed. "Rift? Sounds dramatic for F-Class trash."
Silas shot him a look. "Let it go, Taren."
Celine turned. "Eryndor's right. That's what matters."
Raiden glanced back. "Interesting perspective, Vale. Keep observing."
Kael said nothing, but his eyes lingered on me—dark, unreadable.
Mira smiled at me from across the room.
Elira watched.
The class ended.
Almost noon.
I packed my things and headed to the rune lecture hall
Outside, Elara was waiting.
"Ready for rune class?" she asked.
I nodded.
We headed into the rune lecture hall.
The class was the same—constellations overhead, rune floor, tiered benches.
Professor Elowyn looked up as we entered.
"Vale. Thorne. Sit down."
I took my seat in the back row. Elara sat beside me—protective, silent.
The lesson began.
Prof. Elowyn spoke of intent amplification and layered rune structures—how to strengthen a single rune by layering intent, how multiple layers create stability but risk collapse if the core can't handle the load.
She demonstrated—a basic shield rune, then layered it twice. The barrier shimmered stronger, more solid.
Layered… stability.
The thought hit me like a spark in the dark.
If layering intent on a rune makes it stronger, more stable… could the same be done with a mana core? Cover it in layers. Shells. One after another. For more capacity. More control. To keep the cold mana from leaking. To stop the rift from growing inside me.
My pulse quickened. It felt dangerous. Impossible. But also… possible.
I leaned toward Elara, voice a whisper so low only she could hear.
"Elara… is it possible? To layer a mana core like that? Multiple shells. For stability. Capacity."
She turned her head just enough to look at me, eyes narrowing slightly—not in dismissal, but in thought.
Her voice was barely audible. "Theoretically… yes. But no one does it. The risk is catastrophic. Overfill once, and the core shatters. Permanently. No records of anyone surviving multiple layers. Why?"
I swallowed. "Just… thinking."
She studied me for a second longer. "Don't experiment alone. If you're serious… we talk about it. Later. With Lyra."
I nodded slightly. "No it's fine"
"If you say so.." She looked at me not quite believing my words. "Just don't do anything stupid"
I looked at her with a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes.
Prof. Elowyn's voice cut through the room. "Focus."
We turned back to the lesson.
Students tried.
I drew.
Mana flowed—cold, uneven.
I layered intent—once, twice.
A faint blue-white shield flickered in front of me—thin, shaky, but holding.
It lasted five seconds.
Elowyn watched. No expression.
Then she spoke. "Unusual. Your mana is cold. Unstable. Layering should have collapsed it. But it held. Barely. That is more than most manage on first attempt."
She stepped closer. "Continue. Tomorrow is Sunday—so rest, on Monday we will push for three layers."
I exhaled. "Thank you."
She turned away. "Class dismissed."
The class ended.
Almost afternoon.
Elara and I met Lyra outside the study.
The trio gathered.
Elara unlocked the door.
We entered.
I looked at them—Elara settling into her armchair, Lyra dropping into hers with her usual casual sprawl. The room felt safe, warded, but the book's words still echoed in my mind.
Before they could say anything, I spoke—voice low, but steady.
"Do you know a place for small quests? I need to get stronger, earn coin, test myself."
Elara raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "The quest board. At the main hall for beginners. Small jobs only—gathering, deliveries, minor patrols. Or, for those with more experience or a wider selection, the Abyssgate Ruins. But that's riskier. Why now?"
Lyra grinned, crossing her legs. "He's ready to level up. I like it."
I nodded. "The book keeps warning about rifts, shadows. I can't just wait for the next thing to happen. I need to do something."
Elara studied me for a moment, then stood. "Alright. Let's check the main hall board first. Small jobs. We go together."
Lyra jumped up. "No arguments from me. Let's see what they've got."
I hesitated, glancing between them. "Wait. Are you sure you want to come? Tomorrow's Sunday. You need to rest. You've been pulling all-nighters watching over me. I can go alone—"
Lyra cut me off, her voice sharp, eyes flashing. "Alone? Are you insane? After everything? No way. We're in this together, Eryndor. Whether you like it or not."
Elara's tone was even more intense, her gaze locking on mine like a ward snapping into place. "You think we'd let you step into danger by yourself? After what the book showed us? No. We're coming. End of discussion."
I swallowed, the weight of their words sinking in. "Okay. Together."
We went to the board—simple quests: herb gathering, lost items, minor monster culls.
We picked one in Shadowveil Forest—gather rare moonbloom herbs for alchemist guild.
The Trio agreed to go together.
We left for Shadowveil Forest.
The forest edge loomed just beyond the academy gates—a wall of twisted trees with bark like blackened bone, branches interlacing overhead like claws grasping for the sky. The path leading in was narrow, overgrown, the ground soft with fallen leaves that muffled our footsteps. As we crossed the threshold, the air changed—cooler, thicker, carrying the scent of damp earth and decaying wood. Mist curled around our ankles like living smoke, rising slowly as if the forest was exhaling.
Elara led, her silver wards flickering faintly in her palms, ready to snap into place. Lyra walked beside me, amulet glowing softly green, casting a warm light that pushed back the encroaching shadows. I brought up the rear, Celestite Fang in hand, the violet blade humming quietly against my skin.
The canopy above was dense, blocking out most of the late afternoon sun. It was only an hour past midday when we set off, the sky still bright and blue, but inside the forest, it felt like dusk had fallen early. The light filtered through in thin, pale shafts, turning everything gray and muted.
I glanced around, a subtle unease settling in my gut. "So, we need to find moonbloom herb?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. The quest slip from the board was simple—gather the rare flower for the alchemist guild—but the forest made everything feel heavier.
Elara nodded without looking back. "Yes. It grows in clearings near water. Blooms only under moonlight, but the roots are what they want. Potent for mana restoratives."
Lyra grinned over her shoulder. "Easy coin. As long as we don't run into anything that wants to eat us."
I scanned the trees, the mist now waist-high, swirling around our legs like it was trying to pull us down. "Is it usually this misty?"
Elara paused, her silver light cutting through the fog. "Not always. Shadowveil feeds on mana. When it's thick like this, it means something's stirring. Keep your eyes open."
We pushed deeper. The light faded even more, the trees closing in. It was only late afternoon when we set off — the sun hadn't even begun to set, not an hour ago, and it was still bright outside the gates. But here, it was already dark as midnight, the shadows long and thick, like the forest had swallowed the day whole.
"Why is it so dark in here?" I asked, voice low. "It was only late afternoon when we set off, and it was still light. Not even sunset. That was not even an hour ago, and now it's like midnight. It's gotten dark since we've been in the forest."
Lyra's amulet flared a little brighter. "That's Shadowveil for you. The trees drink the light. The mist hides the paths. It's not just a forest — it's alive. Stay close."
Elara stopped suddenly, hand raised. "Quiet. Listen."
We froze. The subtle unease grew—a low rustle in the leaves, a distant snap of a branch. No birds. No wind. Just the mist, coiling higher.
One step forward. Into the shadows. Let's see what happens.
I gripped Celestite Fang tighter. The blade hummed—ready.
The forest watched.