The oak door groaned shut behind Arin as he stepped into the vast chamber of the Principal's Tower. A subtle warmth clung to the air, not from temperature, but from ancient magic — steady and timeless.
Principal Elior Drayven stood before a wall-length window, his hands tucked behind his back, staring out into the distant horizon where the mountains kissed the sky.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he said, not turning around. "The world seems much more… manageable from up here."
Arin stayed silent, unsure how to respond.
The old man finally turned, his eyes sharp but gentle, like a blade wrapped in silk.
"Relax, boy," the principal chuckled. "This isn't an interrogation. Just a conversation between two acquaintances."
Arin offered a small bow and reached into his robe. From within the inner lining, he carefully pulled out the small, dull-looking obsidian eye — the artifact given to him during their mysterious encounter in the forest.
Without a word, he extended it forward.
Elior raised an eyebrow.
"So, you kept it safe. Good. I wondered if you'd remember."
He accepted the eye, and the moment it touched his palm, it shimmered faintly — as if awakening from slumber — before fading once more.
"I've seen the records," Elior said, walking to a nearby chair and settling in. "White core. Dual affinity — earth and wind. Good control. Stable mind. Decent endurance."
He glanced up with a knowing smirk.
"Though… I have a feeling you're hiding more than just nerves during testing."
Arin's fingers twitched slightly, but he didn't react.
"No need to panic. You did well." The principal nodded approvingly. "You understand the importance of concealment. I admire that. Too many children today are eager to show off before learning how deep the waters go."
There was a pause. Arin could feel the weight of being observed, measured — not harshly, but thoroughly.
"Your performance was above expectations," Elior added, "especially for someone from… humble roots. If you stay on this trajectory, you'll make a fine soldier someday. Perhaps even an elite one."
Soldier.
That word stung.
Arin kept his expression neutral, but something inside him clenched. Was that all they saw in him? Another weapon to be wielded?
He inhaled softly, his voice calm but firm.
"I'm glad you think so, Principal Drayven," he said. "But I hope you won't mind if I aim higher. I'm not here to become just another piece on someone's board."
Elior blinked, then leaned back, smiling faintly.
"Hmm. I like surprises. Let's see if you're the kind that causes trouble… or changes the game."
With a final nod, Arin turned and exited the tower.
He walked down the spiraling stairs, back into the world of students and learning, but his heart wasn't light.
The old man knew something — maybe not everything, but enough to make Arin uneasy.
A soldier, huh? he thought bitterly. Am I still just that — someone strong, someone useful, someone meant to follow orders?
His footsteps, rather than leading him back to class, veered toward the side of the campus — where the grand Celestial Library stood.
The tower-like structure was made of starlight-colored stone, its tall, arcane-etched doors whispering secrets to those who dared to enter.
If he was going to surprise them… he needed knowledge. And power.
Not just the kind that wins battles — but the kind that rewrites fates.