A soft light spilled through the window, catching the dust in its golden hue as it filtered into the small room atop the Noxvel household. The wind whispered through a half-open vent, gently tousling the reddish-brown hair of the sleeping boy wrapped in thick blankets.
"Kael, sweetheart! Time to wake up—you'll miss breakfast!"
The voice floated warmly through the stairwell—refined and melodic, like a lullaby only a mother could sing. He didn't stir.
A moment later, another voice echoed from downstairs—sharper, smaller, and far less patient.
"Are you going to wake up or not? Don't make me come up there—that'll be bad for you. And wake your sisters too!"
This time, there was a hint of menace in the tone.
Kael blinked awake, staring at the ceiling. A wide yawn stretched across his face as he slowly rolled to one side, limbs heavy with sleep.
He sat up, revealing a twelve-year-old boy with a round, still-youthful face. His cheeks clung to the last vestiges of childhood softness, and his reddish-brown hair stuck out in wild tufts. Pale skin glowed faintly in the morning light, and his warm brown eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep.
Across the room, a small bed with a pink blanket shifted. A lump groaned beneath the covers.
Mischief sparked in Kael's eyes.
Target acquired.
He raised a hand and summoned a sliver of Void energy. His fingers dissolved into an inky black shimmer, devoured by the colorless essence. With a quiet grin, he tiptoed toward the bed and poked the lump playfully.
"Mana, wake up," he whispered.
A small face peeked out—pale, round, and framed by messy light-brown curls. Puffy cheeks, a sleepy pout, and soft gray eyes blinked up at him, full of silent protest.
"You're doing it again," she muttered, rubbing her eyes.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kael said with a grin, dropping a fresh pair of socks—summoned from his Void storage—onto her lap.
He was already using his powers to help her get ready for school.
"Thanks," she mumbled, smiling faintly. "You're still cheating."
"Call it a big brother bonus."
With a triumphant smirk, Kael vanished into thin air and reappeared inside the bathroom. He grabbed his toothbrush and began prepping for the day.
Back in the bedroom, Mana sat up slowly, tugging on her socks with a groggy frown. "You're such a cheater, Kael," she grumbled under her breath.
He ignored the jab, finished getting ready in record time, and reappeared in front of her, bowing low with one hand behind his back.
"Your turn, my lady," he said with exaggerated elegance, offering her his hand.
Mana blinked, unimpressed. "Nope. I don't need it. Thank you very much." She stood and marched toward the bathroom.
Kael blinked, momentarily stunned, then chuckled and began packing his school things. By the time he was done, Mana had returned, dressed and ready.
Together, they made their way downstairs.
The lower floor of the Noxvel home buzzed with morning energy. The house was small but cozy, decorated in soft blues and grays, with clean counters and flickering holographic screens displaying city news, alerts, and weather updates.
At the table sat Theron Noxvel, their father. Dressed in the sleek graphite-gray suit of a Government Development Core engineer, he scrolled through translucent schematics and encrypted files, his eyes scanning data behind rectangular lenses. His neatly trimmed beard framed a face marked by quiet responsibility.
"Morning, kids," he greeted with a nod.
"Morning, Dad," Kael and Mana chimed in unison.
In the kitchen, Dr. Elra Noxvel flipped pancakes with swift, practiced motions. She was forty-three, but time seemed hesitant to touch her. Her long, deep-red hair was tied back in a low braid, and her pale skin glowed with youth. Her large, intelligent eyes sparkled as she turned toward her children.
"You're lucky I didn't bring up a bucket of water," she teased. "Eat quick—I've got a morning shift at Southside General."
Kael grinned. "You wouldn't dare."
"I absolutely would," she said with a smirk, setting a plate of steaming pancakes in front of him.
The moment the plate landed, Kael lunged like a starved beast. His parents made half-hearted attempts to slow him down, but they knew better.
Just then, the front door hissed open.
A pair of polished boots stepped inside.
ElizaBETH Noxvel—their eldest daughter and Kael's older sister—entered in full uniform. Silver-trimmed and crisp, it marked her status as a newly minted Captain of the City Guard. At only twenty, she carried herself with cool authority. Her sharp, elegant features and black-jade eyes gave her an air of quiet control.
"Morning," she said, taking a seat beside her mother and Kael.
"You're already looking like a hero," Kael said, grinning.
She raised an eyebrow. "Says the boy with syrup on his face."
Kael wiped it quickly. "Tactical error."
They settled into breakfast. The room was warm, filled with smells and sounds of family life.
But Kael's thoughts were elsewhere.
He pushed his fork around before speaking, voice quiet but resolute. "Mom, Dad... do you remember what I asked you last time?"
Theron lowered his holoscreen. Elra tilted her head slightly. The room stilled.
Kael looked at them, eyes steady. "I want to change schools. I want to transfer to the Inner District Combat Training Regiment."
A beat of silence.
"You're already in a good school," Elra said carefully.
"I don't care about the engineering or research tracks," Kael replied. "I want to fight. I want to be like you." He nodded at Eliza, though he didn't mean support and strategy. He meant something more—something Elra knew she could never offer.
She was a captain, yes—but one who could only command and enhance. Not fight. Not like Kael wanted to.
Theron sighed deeply. "Kael, your powers don't suit combat. Void... it's not like Elra's reinforcement. You don't have shields or physical boosts. No offense capability."
He was trying to protect him. They all were. This world was not safe, not really. The peace they clung to was temporary—a brief calm before the inevitable storm. Creatures still roamed outside the cities. Death was always near.
Kael's voice sharpened. "But it's still useful. I have stealth. Storage. I can learn. Void isn't weak—it's just... misunderstood."
Elra's gaze shifted. That tone. That fire. Passion. Obsession.
"I found a book," Kael said, leaning forward. "Hidden in the archives. It was about past fighters with the same affinity. They weren't engineers or scouts. They were explorers. Frontliners. They reclaimed dead zones. They were heroes."
Theron met Elra's eyes. His voice was heavy with something close to grief. "Kael… all of them died."
Kael's fists clenched. "Not because of their powers. They were abandoned. Sent on suicide missions. None of them had full mastery. Not really."
He paused, then tried again. "Don't you want to be the parents of the first human to truly control this affinity? To master it?"
The table fell into silence.
Even Elra stopped eating.
Finally, she set down her fork. "Kael... we believe in you. But power alone isn't enough. The Void takes things from people. Not just energy. It drains memories. Emotions. We don't want to lose you to it."
Void affinity was rare—some said cursed. Only a handful had ever awakened it, and none had survived long. No one truly understood what it could do... or what it could take.
Kael met their eyes. "I won't let it consume me. I'll master it. I'll use it to fight back. To take our planet back from the monsters."
There was no doubt in his voice now. No hesitation.
Mira peeked up from her plate. "I think Kael can do it," she said softly.
Kael turned to her with a warm grin. "Atta girl," he whispered, pride glowing in his eyes. She was small—too small to understand the full weight of his dreams—but she believed in him. That was enough.
But the moment was cut short.
Thwack.
A sharp flick landed on his head.
"Not so fast, dummy," Eliza said, her tone half-scolding, half-concerned.
Kael rubbed the spot and looked up at her in confusion.
Her expression had shifted—still composed, but tense now, her voice low and warning.
"Do you even understand what's out there?" she asked. "There are creatures roaming beyond these walls… things bigger than this whole city put together."
Kael opened his mouth, but she raised a hand.
"And you think you're ready to face monsters like that just because you found a book and got fired up?" Her voice wasn't mocking—just tired, and worried.
She paused, then added firmly, "Don't bring this up to Mom and Dad again."
The room fell quiet again, her words hanging heavy in the air.
"Not until you've shown us something real. Train. Learn control. Show us what's your affinity can actually do. Then... we'll talk."
Kael brushed her hand away from his head and met her gaze without flinching.
"Oh, I will," he said with a lopsided grin. "I'll prove it to all of you. Just wait."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The faint tick of the arcane clock echoed through the stone-walled classroom. Chalk dust danced in the air, stirred by the breeze from cracked ventilation runes lining the ceiling. The scent of scorched stone and powdered chalk clung to everything — thick, dry, and oddly sharp in the nose.
Desks were arranged in tight rows, occupied by a scatter of boys and girls in fitted gray-and-black uniforms. Their jackets bore the emblem of Drayholme Secondary: a cracked tower stitched in silver thread. Sleeves were rolled up, collars uneven, some trousers stained with old ink and dust from the Outer District streets.
Ssshhk. Ssshhk. Tap. Snap.
Dozens of pencils scratched across yellowed parchment as students copied diagrams from the board. The noise of graphite scraping against paper mixed with the soft rustle of shifting uniforms, and the distant hum of mana conduits built into the walls.
"And as you all know," the instructor barked, tapping the diagram with a flick of his enchanted pointer, "any structure designed to support passage over a Veil-cracked ravine must follow the seven-fold anchoring rule, or it collapses within thirty-two hours under exposure to echo-tension. Who can explain why?"
Kael Noxvel didn't even pretend to raise his hand.
He sat with his elbow on the desk, cheek pressed into his palm, eyes glazed over. His chair creaked softly as he leaned back — not asleep, just miles away. Two rows beside him sat Darin, his best friend, eyes sharp with interest, fingers scribbling notes faster than most of the class could think.
Kael sighed.
Why am I here learning bridge-building when all I want is to fight?
The question stabbed at him again and again — every time they taught Veil tension tolerances or settlement expansion math or shielded-pipe theory.
"Hey," he whispered sideways. "Darin."
Darin didn't look up. "You're gonna get us both tossed again."
"Worth it." Kael leaned in. "Did you find anything else about past users?"
That got Darin's attention.
The boy adjusted his round glasses, eyes lighting up. "Actually, yes. I found a record… an old codex stored in the Restricted Tier. Mentions about a person a war tactician who could manipulate terrain shadows during siege warfare. The only problem?"
Kael raised an eyebrow.
"Only Librarian Helseth and Tier-Three Enchanters have access to that section."
Kael groaned. "Why is everything about my powers is locked away like it's cursed?"
Before Darin could reply, the sharp clang of a metallic ruler slammed against the desk in front of them. The instructor — Master Enjiro, an ex-field engineer from the East Bastion — glared down through a monocle reinforced with brass rings.
"Mr. Noxvel. Since you seem to find my lecture so irrelevant, perhaps you'd like to educate the class on the stress-break limitations of inverted mana-fiber arches under gravity flux?"
Kael blinked. "Uh… bridges… bad if they fall?" He has no idea what he was talking
A few students snickered.
Master Enjiro's lips tightened. "Out. Hall. Now."
Kael stood up, muttering under his breath.
Darin stood too.
Enjiro narrowed his eyes. "Mr. Vellarn. I didn't dismiss you."
"I also didn't know about it. I'll go with him."
Enjiro sighed. "If I hear a single sound from that hallway, I'll ban you both from next week's field tour."
They left in silence.
Outside the lecture room, the long gray hall hummed with rune-light and buzzing mana tubes overhead. Footsteps echoed lightly along polished stone, and the faint sound of another class reciting formulas echoed down the hall.
Kael leaned against the wall and stretched.
"You really followed me out?"
"Of course," Darin shrugged. "Where else would I get my daily dose of bad decisions and sarcastic commentary?"
Kael smirked. "I swear, sometimes I think you're more into me than my sisters are."
Darin snorted. "Please. Your body's not my type. Too much brooding. Not enough biceps."
They both laughed quietly.
"So… about that book," Kael said.
Darin nodded. "I'll get us in somehow. If anyone's gonna figure out the truth about Void affinity… it's you and me."
Kael's smile faded into something sharper.
"I'm done being invisible, Darin. One day I'll be strong enough to earn my place inside the Inner Circle. Not because of pity… but because I earned it. Like my sister."
Darin met his eyes. "Then we start with that book.
The lecture bell chimed with a melodic flicker, and mana runes dimmed along the walls. Students stretched, yawned, and broke into small clusters, buzzing with chatter.
Kael slumped back into his chair, arms crossed behind his head. Darin sat beside him, scribbling something quick in his notebook before capping his pen.
Then came the voice.
"Well, well, well… what are my favorite delinquents scheming this time?"
Ten dropped onto the desk in front of them, spinning his mana ring around his finger. His smile was mischievious as ever, his hair a shade too perfectly tousled to be accidental.
Kael gave him a lazy side-eye. "Your guess is as bad as your grades."
Ten grinned. "I swear, Kael, you're wasting your powers. If I had your affinity, you know the things I'd do? Slip through a wall, sneak into the girl's bathhouse, maybe... relocate the Headmaster's hat while he's mid-speech."
Kael snorted. "Classic."
"I'm serious!" Ten leaned forward. "Can't you, like, teleport your arm into the hallway and tap someone's shoulder from here? Or snag a snack from the vending machine?"
"I told you already," Kael said, straightening slightly, "I'm not there yet. I can't teleport separate parts of myself — I can only compress space between two points and move through it fast."
Ten shrugged. "Still sounds handy."
"Second," Kael went on, "it's immoral. I'm not creeping into places I shouldn't be."
Darin nodded. "Told you he's got a conscience. Somewhere."
"And third," Kael added with a smirk, "have you seen how big some of the girls in our class are? If one of them catches me using my powers to peek somewhere… I'll be a pancake with legs."
Ten burst out laughing. "Fair. Especially Rysa — she bench-pressed a stone golem during trials."
"Exactly," Kael grinned. "I like living."
As the laughter faded, a new voice joined the group.
"Um, Kael? Hi!"
A girl with neatly braided hair and a book hugged to her chest stood just beside them. Her cheeks were dusted pink, and she fiddled with the edge of her sleeve.
Kael blinked. "Oh. Hey, Selene."
Darin raised an eyebrow.
Selene tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "So… I was just wondering. How's your sister? Eliza, right? She's in the Inner District now?"
Kael tilted his head, surprised. "Yeah… she is. Why?"
"Oh, no reason!" Selene said quickly, too quickly. "Just curious. I mean… she was always so amazing during sparring exams, and I—uh—thought you might have that same spark."
Ten's eyes sparkled with amusement.
Kael scratched the back of his neck. "She's... doing fine, I guess. Busy."
Selene smiled sweetly. "That's great. You're lucky to have a sister like her."
As she turned away, Darin leaned in. "Okay… either she's into you, or she's into your sister."
"Wait, what?" Kael blinked.
"Nothing," Darin smirked. "You'll figure it out."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "That's cryptic even for you."
Before Kael could push further, Ten clapped his hands. "So, are you two still playing secret agents with that Void book plan?"
Darin's expression sobered. "Yeah. The codex is locked in the Restricted Tier. It's not just a normal book vault — there are artifacts there. Dangerous ones. That place should've been in the Inner District."
"Then why isn't it?" Selene had lingered nearby.
Kael shrugged. "We don't know. But the librarian, Helseth, guards it like his soul's inside."
"And only Tier-Three affinity holders or staff can access it," Darin added.
Ten leaned back, folding his arms. "So you're saying it's impossible."
Kael's lips twitched. "Not impossible. Just… slightly illegal."
Darin stared at him. "No. Whatever you're thinking, don't say it."
"I'm gonna steal Master Enjiro's access key."
Ten whooped. "Now that's the Kael I love!"
"You're insane," Darin groaned. "Enjiro practically has you flagged in his nightmares. How do you plan to get close to him, let alone ask?"
Kael shrugged with a smug grin. "Who said anything about asking? I've got you three."
Ten threw his hands up. "Oh no. Nope. This is how people get expelled."
"I'll be quick," Kael said, trying to sound confident. "Like a shadow. Like a—"
"—like a soon-to-be ex-student?" Darin deadpanned.
Kael struck a dramatic pose. "Every hero begins with a leap of defiance."
There was a pause.
Then, Ten clapped slowly. "Wow. That was… actually worse than I expected."
Selene giggled behind her book.
Kael sighed. "Tough crowd."
But in the end, he managed to get all 3 of them involved in his scheme to get the key card.