Morning light streamed through the tall stained-glass windows of the academy's dining hall, casting soft golden hues across the long wooden tables. The scent of freshly baked bread, sizzling eggs, and fragrant tea filled the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation.
Evolis trudged in, running a hand through his messy dark hair, his golden eyes still hazy with sleep.
Despite his victory in yesterday's duel, sleep had evaded him.
Every time he closed his eyes, there were flashes. Half-formed images. Swirling light, distant voices, shadows whispering things he couldn't quite grasp. It was like someone—or something—was trying to speak to him.
But when he woke up, the voices were gone.
He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Just a dream," he muttered under his breath. "Forget it."
Pushing the thoughts aside, he scanned the dining hall.
Lyris sat at their usual table, engaged in light conversation with a few students. Even from a distance, she stood out.
Her silver hair was neatly braided over one shoulder, catching the light with a subtle shimmer. The morning sun played off the amethyst hue of her eyes, making her look almost ethereal.
Composed as always—regal, confident, effortlessly graceful.
She looked every bit like what she was: a noble's daughter.
The heiress to the Altheon name.
The family that had raised Evolis as their own.
He made his way over and slid into the seat beside her. "Morning." He let out a half-yawn, stretching his arms lazily. "Please tell me we're not doing anything crazy today."
Lyris didn't even look up from her tea. "Define 'crazy.'"
Evolis frowned. "If you mean, 'Are we sparring again at dawn?' then no, you're safe—at least until Master Gaius tracks you down. He mentioned wanting to see you."
That got Evolis' attention. "Gaius wants to see me?" He frowned. "Why? Don't tell me he heard about the duel yesterday and wants to lecture me about 'discipline' or something."
A smirk tugged at Lyris's lips. "Well, you know him. He's been fussing over you for years. If he didn't see you fighting Karam himself, someone definitely told him."
Evolis groaned, propping his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his palm. "Great. Just what I need—another lecture from the old man."
Lyris giggled, leaning slightly closer, her voice mockingly sweet. "Oh, but he adores you, Evolis. If it wasn't for Master Gaius and my parents, who knows where you'd be right now?"
Evolis sighed dramatically. "Probably living the life of a traveling bard, charming maidens in every village, collecting free meals—"
"—and getting chased out by pitchfork-wielding peasants," Lyris finished, smirking. "But hey, maybe that's your calling."
Their banter drew a few amused glances from nearby students. Ever since they were children, Evolis and Lyris had shared a natural rhythm in their conversations—a mix of friendly teasing and genuine closeness that made them the subject of more than a few academy rumours.
Some students insisted they had to be betrothed, others said they were just best friends. The truth was simpler and more complicated at the same time: they had been raised together, but their bond was neither fully understood nor defined. They just were.
Evolis hadn't been born into nobility.
He wasn't even sure where he was born at all.
Sixteen years ago, in the dead of night, Duke Altheon had found him—a baby swaddled in a tattered blanket, left on the doorstep of the estate.
Most noble families would have ignored him.
Or worse.
But something about the child—the odd golden eyes, the unnatural intensity of his gaze even then—had stirred something in the usually pragmatic Duke.
And so, against tradition, against propriety, against all reason—he took Evolis in.
Raised him.
Treated him as if he belonged.
But no matter how much kindness the Duke and his family showed, Evolis knew the truth.
He wasn't really one of them.
His past was a blank slate.
A mystery he had spent his entire life ignoring.
Until recently.
Until things started happening.
Flashes of forgotten memories.
Power, just beneath the surface, aching to be released.
With breakfast finished, the pair made their way to Master Gaius's study.
Gaius' study was exactly what Evolis expected—cluttered, chaotic, and filled with enough dusty scrolls to make any sane person reconsider stepping inside.
Shelves overflowed with ancient tomes. Artifacts of unknown origin were stacked carelessly between parchment-strewn desks. The air smelled of old ink, aged paper, and faint traces of incense.
Master Gaius himself stood at the center, reading over a lengthy scroll. A wiry man in his late fifties, his salt-and-pepper beard was neatly trimmed, but his sharp eyes held a depth that suggested a past far beyond the life of a simple scholar.
"You're late," Gaius said, not bothering to look up from the parchment in front of him. He waved his quill dismissively, as if shooing away a particularly persistent mosquito. "Typical. Youth these days, no respect for punctuality, no discipline, no—" He paused dramatically, then finally glanced up at Evolis with a slow smirk. "—no sense of shame. Honestly, you could at least have the courtesy to pretend you feel bad about it."
Evolis crossed his arms. "I overslept, old man. What, did you miss me that much?"
Gaius let out a heavy sigh, the kind that said he had long since given up on expecting basic human decency from his pupil. "Miss you? Ha! My mornings are much more peaceful when I don't have to look at your smug face first thing. I almost started enjoying life again."
Lyris, standing beside Evolis, chuckled. "Well, I've delivered him. He's all yours, Master Gaius. Try not to break him too badly." She patted Evolis on the shoulder, then leaned in, whispering, "And don't let him bully you too much."
"I heard that," Gaius called out, waving his quill like a tiny sword as Lyris slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her.
The old scholar stretched, setting his quill aside, and leaned back in his chair with an exaggerated groan. "Now then, let's get to it. I heard you got into a little scuffle yesterday." He arched a brow. "Karam, wasn't it? Did you at least make him cry?"
Evolis smirked. "Not sure, I was too busy winning to check."
"A damn shame," Gaius lamented, shaking his head. "Making arrogant brats cry is the only true pleasure left in life once you get to my age."
Evolis snorted, but Gaius suddenly leaned forward, fixing him with a more pointed stare. "That said, you do realize you're supposed to avoid standing out, right?"
Evolis rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. He challenged me. What was I supposed to do, let him run his mouth?"
Gaius tapped his fingers against the desk, humming as if deep in thought. "Ah, yes, the age-old dilemma: endure public humiliation or punch a fool in the face. A great philosopher once called it 'The Idiot's Gambit.'"
"And what would this great philosopher have chosen?" Evolis asked dryly.
Gaius grinned. "Oh, he absolutely would have punched the fool. But he was also exiled for about twenty years, so, y'know. Swings and roundabouts."
Evolis sighed, rubbing his temples. "So what, you're saying I should've just let him insult me?"
"No, I'm saying next time, humiliate him in a way that doesn't get you called into my office for a 'talk.'" Gaius waggled his eyebrows. "There are plenty of ways to defeat a man without lifting a finger. Do you have any idea how much damage a well-placed rumor can do? Ruined engagements, social exile, the sheer existential dread of realizing your peers think you wet the bed until age twelve—" He let out a wistful sigh. "The true battlefield is the mind, Evolis. You should try using yours sometime."
"Great advice," Evolis deadpanned. "What are you, a combat instructor or a professional gossip?"
"Why not both?" Gaius replied smoothly, reclining in his chair like a man with no actual job responsibilities. Then, just as casually, "Oh, by the way, if you are going to pick fights, at least try to look cooler while doing it. Lyris said you got hit a few times. Not very stylish of you."
Evolis groaned. "Do you actually have a point, or did you just call me in here to mess with me?"
Gaius chuckled, rubbing his beard. "A little of both." His tone softened slightly as he met Evolis's gaze. "Look, kid. I'm not gonna give you some grand lecture about discipline or whatever. You're strong. You've got talent. You're not special, but you're definitely not bad."
Evolis blinked. "Not special?"
Gaius smirked. "What, you want me to call you some prodigious gift to mankind? Pfft. You're an above-average brat, Evolis. Maybe even a slightly above-average brat. But I've seen a hundred 'gifted' kids who thought talent alone would get them somewhere, and you know where they are now?"
Evolis raised an eyebrow. "Dead?"
Gaius snorted. "Married, mostly. The rest? Yeah, probably dead." He stretched again, popping his back. "Point is, talent means nothing if you don't use it right. Right now, you've got enough skill to win against other kids your age. But you want to get stronger? Then stop just throwing yourself into fights for the hell of it and start actually learning something."
Evolis considered that for a moment, running a hand through his hair. He hated to admit it, but the old man kind of had a point.
Kind of.
Gaius studied him for a beat, then smirked again. "That's the look of a kid trying very hard not to admit I'm right. Go on, say it. Say 'Gaius, you're the wisest, most handsome instructor in the academy, and I am but a humble student, unworthy of your guidance—'"
Evolis stood up. "Okay, I'm leaving."
"WAIT—" Gaius burst into laughter, slapping his knee. "Oh, come on, kid, don't be so sensitive! I'm kind of proud of you, if that helps. Maybe. A little." He waved him off. "Go on, get outta here before I get all sentimental and start writing my will."
Evolis rolled his eyes, but despite himself, he grinned as he walked toward the door. Just before he left, Gaius called out—
"And don't forget, if you're going to fight someone, at least look good doing it! Style points count!"
Evolis shook his head, muttering, "Old man's insane."
He was halfway out the door when Gaius suddenly called after him. "Oh, and one more thing—be at the training courtyard tomorrow morning at dawn."
Evolis paused, turning back with a raised brow. "You? Waking up at dawn? That's a first."
Gaius smirked. "I make exceptions when I feel like tormenting my students. Consider it an honor."
Evolis crossed his arms. "And why exactly are you training me all of a sudden? You've been perfectly happy making me suffer through the academy's lectures until now."
The old scholar leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Because, dear boy, you're running out of time. The Awakening Trial's in less than two months, and right now, you're barely competent."
Evolis frowned. "I'm more than competent, thank you very much."
"Oh, sure," Gaius said, waving a hand lazily. "If we were talking about impressing starry-eyed academy girls or showing off in friendly duels, you'd be set. But the Awakening Trial? That's a different beast entirely. If you go in unprepared, you'll be lucky to crawl out with both legs attached."
Evolis narrowed his eyes. "You make it sound like I might die in there."
Gaius met his gaze, and for once, there was no teasing in his expression. "That's because you could."
A moment of silence stretched between them.
Then, just as Evolis was about to press further, Gaius yawned dramatically and waved him off. "Anyway, don't be late. I have a very delicate sleep schedule to maintain, and if I'm waking up early for this, you will suffer for it."
Evolis let out a sigh but nodded. "Fine. But if this turns out to be some elaborate prank, I'm stealing all the wine from your stash."
Gaius gasped in mock outrage. "How dare you. That's a line even I wouldn't cross."
Evolis rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him.
Outside, Lyris was waiting, fiddling with a flower. "Survive?" she teased.
Evolis exhaled. "Barely. He's insufferable."
Lyris smirked. "Sounds about right."
They started walking, the usual hum of academy life filling the halls around them. Evolis glanced back over his shoulder at the closed door of Gaius's study.
The old man was a pain in the ass.
But damn it, he wasn't wrong.
Students milled about, discussing classes, gossiping about the next big tournament, or just lazing in the sunshine.
Evolis caught sight of Karam skulking in a corner, sporting a bandage around his forearm—likely from where Evolis's counterattack had disarmed him. Their eyes met for a brief instant, and the bully's face twisted into a resentful glare. Evolis simply smirked, feeling a rush of satisfaction. He wasn't usually one to revel in someone else's defeat, but Karam's arrogance had rubbed him the wrong way for months.
Lyris noticed the silent exchange and nudged Evolis's side. "Don't go picking another fight. You already made your point."
"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. "I'm done for now."
They wandered past the courtyard and onto a secluded terrace overlooking the academy gardens. The midday sun filtered through the canopy of trees, casting dappled patterns of light across the stone pathways. Vibrant flowers bloomed in neatly manicured hedges, filling the air with the scent of lilac and morning dew. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, sending stray petals drifting lazily through the air.
Lyris led the way to a familiar stone bench beneath the sprawling branches of a magnolia tree, where they often sat to talk away from the bustling academy. The ivory blossoms swayed overhead, their fragrance subtly perfuming the air.
She took a seat, patting the empty space beside her. "So?" she asked, tilting her head. "Gaius tell you to take it easy?"
Evolis let out a short chuckle as he dropped onto the bench beside her. "Take it easy? More like he told me I'm 'barely competent' and that if I want to survive the Awakening Trial, I should prepare myself for suffering."
Lyris smirked. "Sounds like him."
Evolis stretched his arms behind his head, leaning back slightly. "And then he said something about waking up early to train me. Which is honestly the most suspicious part of all this."
Lyris gasped in exaggerated horror. "Master Gaius? Waking up early? That's unnatural. Are you sure he wasn't possessed?"
"Right? I was thinking the same thing." Evolis shook his head. "Either this training is serious, or he's finally lost it."
Lyris hummed, plucking at a loose thread on her sleeve. "Well, in either case, it's good that he's taking an interest. You're strong, Evolis, but the Awakening Trial isn't just some academy sparring match. It's a real test."
Evolis exhaled slowly, watching the petals swirl through the air. "Yeah, I know. I just..." He hesitated, his gaze drifting past the garden. "Something felt off during the duel yesterday."
Lyris frowned slightly. "Off how?"
He rolled a small pebble between his fingers, weighing his words. "For a split second, everything slowed down. I don't know if it was just adrenaline, but... it was like I saw the fight before it even happened. Almost like a memory, but not mine."
Lyris studied him carefully, her amethyst eyes narrowing. "You sure you're okay?"
Evolis forced a grin. "Don't worry, I'm not about to start screaming about ancient prophecies or anything."
She snorted. "Good. Because I'd have to hit you if you did."
"See? Violent tendencies. And people say I'm the one with problems."
Lyris sighed, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips. "You'd tell me if something was really wrong, though, right?"
There was something uncharacteristically earnest in her tone, something that made Evolis pause. He knew she wasn't just making small talk—Lyris had always been good at picking up on things he tried to brush off.
He thought about telling her. About the way his instincts had flared mid-fight. The brief but overwhelming sensation that something inside him had stirred, something just out of reach.
But then he glanced at her, the way her brows furrowed ever so slightly, the subtle tension in her posture.
She was worried.
And Evolis hated making people worry.
So instead, he smirked. "Of course. If I start hearing voices, you'll be the first to know."
She didn't look convinced, but she let it go, shaking her head with an exasperated sigh.
They sat there for a while in comfortable silence, watching as students passed by in the distance, chattering about classes, upcoming exams, and the usual academy gossip. A few glanced their way, some whispering, some outright staring.
Evolis barely paid them any mind, but he knew what they were thinking.
The orphan boy with golden eyes and the duke's daughter—whispers about them had been circulating the academy for years. Some said they were secretly engaged, others speculated that Lyris was only entertaining his presence out of pity.
Neither of them ever bothered correcting the rumors.
Lyris stood up first, brushing imaginary dust off her training robes. "Alright, I need to go. I promised Father I'd help him greet some visiting nobles this afternoon."
Evolis groaned. "Sounds miserable."
"Oh, it will be." She sighed dramatically. "Hours of pretending to be perfectly polite while old men talk about grain taxes and trade routes. I envy you and your upcoming suffering."
Evolis grinned. "I do live a charmed life."
She rolled her eyes, but there was warmth behind it. "Try not to slack off while I'm gone."
He stretched, cracking his neck. "I was thinking of heading to the archives. Might as well read up on some new spear techniques before Gaius inevitably tries to beat me to death."
Lyris smirked. "See? Maybe he's a good influence on you after all."
Evolis gave her a flat look. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."
She laughed, turning on her heel. "Later, slacker."
"Later, Miss Perfect Grades."
With that, she left, disappearing down the garden path.
Evolis lingered for a moment longer before sighing and making his way toward the archives.
He wasn't sure if he believed in fate or destiny. But if there was something waiting for him in the future, he had a feeling it was closer than ever.
Stepping into the archives, he breathed in the familiar smell of old parchment and dusty wood. Rows of shelves stretched before him, each labelled with a neat placard detailing their contents—combat manuals, magical theory, historical records, treatises on elemental energies, and so on. A handful of other students were quietly studying at desks scattered throughout the large, high-ceilinged room.
He made his way to a section on advanced spear techniques, running his fingers over the spines of various tomes. One, in particular, caught his eye: Flowing Tempest: A Treatise on Spear Footwork. As he slid it off the shelf, a small slip of paper fell out and fluttered to the floor.
Curious, he bent down to pick it up. The slip contained a few lines of neat handwriting in a language he didn't immediately recognize. Oddly enough, the characters seemed to glow faintly under the dim lighting, and for a split second, a surge of warmth coursed through him—similar to what he'd felt during the duel with Karam.
His heart pounded. 'What is this?' he wondered, eyes narrowing. There was something about the slip of paper, something that felt… connected to him in a way he couldn't put into words.
He tucked it into his pocket, glancing around to see if anyone else had noticed. The other students were absorbed in their reading, oblivious to his discovery. 'I'll check it out later', he thought, a strange mix of excitement and apprehension welling up inside him.
As he settled at a nearby desk and flipped open the spear manual, his mind wandered back to Lyris, Gaius, and the swirl of questions that had plagued him since the duel. He had no clue what the slip of paper was or why it made his pulse race, but one thing was certain: he couldn't ignore the nagging sense that it was meant for him.
'Maybe', he mused with a lopsided grin, 'I'm about to unlock some crazy hidden skill that'll blow everyone's minds'. The idea was half-joke, half-hope. Because deep down, despite all his bravado and wit, he couldn't shake the feeling that a door had cracked open somewhere, and on the other side lay answers to the questions he'd been afraid to ask.
Outside, the sun crept higher in the sky, casting warm rays through the tall windows. Within the hush of the archives, Evolis lost track of time, his focus alternating between the advanced spear techniques and the mysterious slip of paper burning a hole in his pocket. Little did he know, this small discovery would be the first thread unravelling the tapestry of his hidden past—and the cosmic destiny that had begun to call his name.