The dream returned.
But this time, it did not come in fragmented flashes or muffled echoes—it came in fire and song, in the silence of falling stars and the thunder of war drums.
I stood on a battlefield not made of earth, but of shifting light. The sky above me roiled with swirling gold and endless black, colliding like titanic oceans. No sun. No moon. Only the eternal clash of luminance and shadow. Angels—beings of radiant majesty, wings spread like woven sunlight—soared overhead. Their blades sang with celestial energy, striking down monstrous forms that reeked of void and flame.
Azrael stood at the heart of it all.
I had never seen him, not truly. Only heard whispers of the name in theory class, felt the coldness of his legend. But now, I saw him—towering, cloaked in armor that pulsed like a heartbeat, eyes gleaming with cruel intelligence. Horned and wreathed in dark mist, his black wings shredded the sky. Around him demons howled, a thousand voices in twisted harmony.
And opposite him stood a figure bathed in gold. A man? An archangel? No—more. His face was a mask of calm, his sword etched with ancient sigils that glowed as he lifted it high. I could not understand his voice, but I felt it—booming not in my ears, but in the marrow of my bones.
"The Savior will come, born of divine spark but bound to mortal flesh. When the world bleeds again, he shall rise."
Azrael lunged—and the dream shattered.
I woke gasping, my sheets damp with sweat. Morning light spilled in through the dorm window, golden and warm, but my skin felt cold. My chest ached where the mark pulsed faintly, hidden beneath my shirt. I touched it, feeling the spiral shape as if it was newly branded. What did that dream mean? Why did it feel like a memory, and not just a dream?
"Aether?"
I turned toward the voice. Cassian stood at the door, already dressed in his training robes, white bands tied tightly around his wrists.
"You good?" he asked, brow furrowed.
"Just a weird dream," I muttered, rising from bed. "I'll be ready in a minute."
Cassian didn't press further, though his eyes lingered on me a second longer than necessary. Maybe he saw the unease I was trying to hide.
By the time we reached the training field, the rest of the class had already gathered. The sun hung high overhead, warm but not scorching, and the wind carried the scent of dew and steel. The instructors stood like statues at the edge of the open arena, all clad in matching silver robes marked with the academy's crest—a winged flame.
Lyra stood with her arms crossed, eyes scanning the group. Her long, golden hair was tied back, and her gaze sharp enough to cut glass. Despite her strict demeanor, she gave me a small nod when I joined the line beside Cassian. I returned it, unsure if it was a greeting or just acknowledgement. Either way, it settled me slightly.
"All right, listen up!" barked the instructor. He was a middle-aged man with a powerful build, tanned skin, and eyes like steel. "Today marks your first formal elemental training session. Some of you have awakened your affinities. Some have not. That doesn't matter. What matters is focus. Resolve. And discipline."
He paced slowly as he spoke, letting the silence drag between words.
"Each of you will step forward, one at a time. Those who have awakened, show us control. Those who haven't, show us your determination. There is no room for weakness in this academy."
Cassian nudged me slightly. "Bet I'll shock half the field."
"Just don't electrocute the instructor," I whispered back.
Cassian grinned.
The first few students stepped forward. Some created weak sparks, barely flickers of their elements. Others managed impressive displays—water whips, gusts of air, or stones raised from the ground like pillars. When it was Cassian's turn, lightning surged up his arms before he even fully stepped forward. With a wide grin, he sent a bolt into the sky that crackled like thunder. The students let out an impressed cheer. Even the instructor raised an eyebrow.
"Reckless," Lyra muttered.
"But effective," I said.
She glanced sideways at me, lips twitching just slightly.
Then came my turn.
I stepped into the open circle. The world felt quieter here, as though even the breeze was waiting. I closed my eyes, letting my breathing slow, my heartbeat steady. I reached inward—not toward my mind, but deeper. Toward the wellspring I had touched before.
Earth.
It was not fire. Not rage. It was patience. Strength. Foundation.
I let it rise.
The ground beneath my feet trembled, and the circle rippled. Stones lifted from the earth—not flying, not erupting—just rising, as though answering a silent call. I shaped them gently into a ring that hovered around me before settling them back into place, perfectly aligned.
When I opened my eyes, silence greeted me. Then—
"Well controlled," the instructor said. "Earth is the most stable, but also the most stubborn. Impressive balance."
I stepped back into line, my hands still tingling.
Cassian clapped me on the back. "That was neat. You've got finesse."
Lyra glanced at me, and this time, I thought I saw genuine respect.
The session continued for a while longer. We paired off for exercises—channeling small amounts of elemental energy against barriers or targets. The instructors moved among us, correcting stances and offering tips.
When the sun began to dip low and the air cooled, we were finally dismissed. My limbs ached, but it was the good kind of ache—the kind that meant growth.
As we walked back toward the dorms, Cassian was already talking about dinner.
"You coming?" he asked. "I heard the upper courtyard's got some vendors tonight."
"I'll catch up," I said. "I want to clean up first."
He nodded and jogged ahead. I lingered outside the dorm entrance, looking up at the sky.
The dream still lingered in my thoughts. Azrael. The prophecy. The war in Heaven. Somehow, I felt like I was standing on the edge of something vast and ancient, and I was only just beginning to understand the weight of the mark on my skin.
But there was no turning back now.
The training had begun.
And I had a feeling the real test hadn't even started yet.
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