The chamber of the Arx Memoria was silent, save for the whisper of floating rune-scripts humming softly in the air. Kael Ryuu sat cross-legged in the center, surrounded by rotating arrays of glyphs and diagrams that pulsed with light. His breathing was slow, controlled, every inhale and exhale syncing with the rhythm of the floating runes.
His eyes were closed, but his awareness stretched beyond the room. He could feel the elemental threads in the air—fire, wind, earth, water—dancing around him like unseen spirits. With deliberate slowness, he raised a single hand and began to trace a sequence in the air. The runes responded, shifting and rearranging into a circular formation.
The glyphs locked in place. Kael opened his eyes just as a wave of pressure rolled through the chamber. The array stabilized—a four-element construct with no chalk, no crystals, no tools. Just his will.
A sharp cough broke the silence.
"You're either a bloody prodigy or a menace in disguise," Master Illovar grumbled as he emerged from the shadows of a bookshelf. The old rune-master was wrapped in his usual patchwork robes, eyebrows twitching with both disapproval and surprise. "You realize that array shouldn't be possible for another two years of training, right?"
Kael exhaled and let the runes disperse. "I thought I'd try."
"Of course, you did," Illovar muttered, stepping closer to inspect the fading sigils. "Well, don't blow up the Arx Memoria. I rather like this chamber."
Kael grinned faintly. Illovar, for all his eccentricities, had become one of the few constants in his life lately.
---
Selai's training was different—gentler, yet more profound. In the gardens of House Anima, where crystal-petaled flowers glowed under moonlight, she guided him in silence. Kael stood barefoot in the center of a spirit circle, breathing slowly.
"Feel the String," Selai whispered, placing a hand over his heart. "Not as something to control—but as something to listen to."
Kael reached. Slowly, he felt it: faint, delicate threads branching from everything—the grass, the trees, even Selai. It was beautiful.
When he opened his eyes, she smiled knowingly. "Now, bind your spirit to your runes. Let your soul move through them."
He formed a small spirit glyph on his palm, and this time, instead of flaring brightly and dissipating, it pulsed gently. Alive.
"Good," she said, stepping back. "You're beginning to see."
But before the lesson could continue, Kael staggered. A whisper echoed in his mind.
Kael.
---
Vision.
He stood upon an ancient battlefield. Shadows danced in the fog as a lone swordsman cut through waves of phantom warriors. His blade—a twin of Kurozan—moved like liquid shadow. There was no brute force, only elegance, death, and silence.
Kael watched, entranced. The technique felt familiar, as though buried deep in his blood.
Tenebris Kenjutsu, the voice whispered. Not learned. Remembered.
The swordsman turned to face Kael.
Become more than a blade.
The vision shattered.
---
Training with Captains Ryven and Zeff was brutal in its own way.
Ryven's style was all aggression, raw heat and chaos. Fireballs, flame whips, and infernal bursts came without warning. Zeff, by contrast, was a phantom—silent winds, vanishing strikes, and disorienting gusts that shifted the terrain.
Kael had to learn to adapt between them, switching footing, breathing, and tactics. At one point, Ryven hurled a torrent of flame at him, and Zeff twisted the air beneath Kael's feet. He launched into the air, using wind to redirect the fire into the sky.
Both captains paused. Ryven grinned. "Not bad, kid."
Zeff nodded silently. High praise.
---
That night, Kael stood on the highest rooftop of the Academy.
The stars shimmered above, and the city below pulsed with golden light. He removed his gloves slowly, exposing skin etched with glowing runes—some faded, some fresh. They were not inked but branded by the String itself.
His power was growing. So was the weight of it.
He touched the hilt of Kurozan, now resting in his soulspace. The visions had become more frequent, more vivid. The sword was not just a weapon—it was a teacher, a memory, a guide.
A flicker of doubt touched his mind. Would this power consume him? Would he become like the Wraithborn, monsters driven by uncontrolled Crests?
He clenched his fists. No.
He would remain Kael Ryuu. Not a weapon. A warrior with purpose.
---
A knock broke the silence.
Kael opened his door to find Arien standing there, quiet as ever. In his hand was a sealed envelope.
"From Officer Veyna," Arien said simply.
Kael took it, heart thudding. He broke the seal and unfolded the parchment inside.
> The skyship arrives in six weeks. Prepare.
Kael stared at the message for a long moment.
Then he nodded.
The real battles were about to begin.