As the morning sun filtered through the second-floor bedroom window, faint trails of embers floated in the air. Outside, the clash of spells echoed across the courtyard—Rhydian and Veylan were training again. Caleb pushed back the warm blanket, his limbs reluctant to leave the cozy bed, and moved to the window. As expected, his two older brothers were already deep into their morning drills, bursts of flame and arcane light dancing between them.
They were likely preparing for the upcoming academy term. Caleb's chest tightened at the thought. This year, once again, he wouldn't be joining them. Not yet. At thirteen, he was still too young to be accepted into the academy. Fourteen was the minimum age—an arbitrary rule, it seemed to him.
Why couldn't they just let someone start once they've awakened? The thought lingered as he slipped into his usual training uniform.
He picked up the weathered book on basic magic theory and sank into the reading chair near the hearth. The familiar text, dry and repetitive, offered little excitement. "If it weren't for Father, I'd be reading advanced spell books by now," he muttered.
Eventually, a soft knock echoed through the chamber door.
"Young Master Caleb, breakfast is being served. Your father also wishes to speak with you," said a maid, her voice smooth and practiced.
"I'll be there," he replied, his stomach now joining in the call to action.
Descending to the dining hall, Caleb offered a polite nod to his mother, Selene, and father, Garron. As he took his seat, he noticed his father's gaze lingering on him—specifically, his chest—as if searching for something unseen.
Sensing the tension, Selene broke the silence. "Have you finished the book your father asked you to read?"
Caleb looked away from his father's eyes. "I finished it. It was as dull as I expected."
"Dull or not, the fundamentals are vital," Selene said gently. "You'll need them once your magic awakens."
Garron nodded. "Mastery begins with understanding. When your time comes, you'll be glad for the foundation."
"It just feels like I'm waiting forever. Everyone my age is already hurling spells."
"You've been absorbing a lot of mana, Caleb. More than most," Selene reassured him. "You may have a larger reserve than you realize."
His father studied him for another moment before adding, "Your mana's presence is growing more distinct every day. I wouldn't be surprised if today is the day."
Hope stirred in Caleb's chest.
"Then… could I skip more reading and begin core training today?"
Garron hesitated, then looked to Selene. She smiled.
"Let him," she said. "I have a feeling about today."
With a reluctant nod, Garron agreed. "Just for today."
***
Caleb's excitement bubbled over as he hurried toward the training grounds. Fireballs, flame control—it might all finally begin. He knew he wouldn't be launching great infernos just yet, but even the smallest flame would be a start.
To speed things along, he decided to retrieve a monster core from the storage room. It would be his first time doing so without permission.
What harm could there be? They're just cores. No one's around. I'll be quick.
The room, illuminated by a perpetual flame hovering near the ceiling, bathed the shelves in a soft orange glow. Cores of varying hues rested on stone brackets—blues, greens, reds. But one, bright orange streaked with shadowy black, called to him. It pulsed faintly, like a coal hiding a fire within.
He reached out, fingers brushing the surface.
The world vanished.
Darkness engulfed him, and with it came a fury so raw and immense that it didn't feel human. The rage pressed into his thoughts like a molten brand, blinding and suffocating.
Then—light. Blinding, absolute.
It grew hotter, closer, until it seared through his arm. Caleb cried out, staggering as clarity returned. Around him stood figures—people. Humans.
They were attacking him.
Spells rained down, flame and heat crashing against his skin. Confused and panicked, he tried to move, to evade, but the pain was too much. The world spiraled.
And then—nothing.
When his senses returned, he was back in his room, sprawled on his bed. Every inch of him ached. A soft glow warmed his side. A mage stood beside him, their hands lit with healing light.
His throat burned as he tried to speak. "Who… who are you?"