The cold wind from the ruin walls whispered through the cracks, carrying the smell of dust and old magic. Eiden stood alone in the large underground chamber he had found beneath the academy. The walls were covered in faded runes and broken statues of ancient mages. Dim blue light glowed softly from the ceiling, just enough to see.
He bent down beside the broken stone table in the center. His fingers brushed the surface, tracing letters carved in a language only he could read. His past self had written them.
"Focus the light within, not above," he read aloud. His voice echoed faintly. "Use the blade not to cut, but to carve."
Eiden closed his eyes. His breath slowed. He held his sword in both hands. It was simple—just steel—but in his grip, it felt like a paintbrush.
He swung once, lightly. A thin line of glowing light followed the blade, fading quickly. Again. And again. Each time, he tried to control it. Not just swing the sword, but guide the energy inside him. His mana.
Hours passed.
Sweat dripped down his face, and his shoulders burned. But finally, when he made a downward slash, a shape remained. A rune. Shining, glowing. He stared at it, wide-eyed. His heart pounded.
"I did it."
It wasn't perfect. The rune flickered. But it was there. It reacted to his sword, to his will.
Eiden sat down on the cold floor, breathing hard. He took out a notebook. His handwriting filled the pages—old symbols, half-finished spells, sword diagrams.
He added the new rune beside a sketch of his sword technique. A hybrid.
"This... this is just the start."
---
Later that night, Eiden left the ruin.
He moved silently through the academy halls. The candles on the walls flickered, and distant voices echoed from the upper dorms. Nobody saw him.
But someone was watching.
Elara, the quiet girl from his class, stood behind a pillar far down the hall. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Eiden disappear into the shadows.
"He's hiding something," she whispered.
She had followed him for three nights. At first, she thought he was sneaking out to meet someone or breaking curfew. But no. He was going underground. Deep underground.
And each time he came back... he looked different.
Stronger.
More focused.
She touched the hilt of her sword and made a silent vow.
"I'll find out who you really are."
---
Eiden returned to his room. He locked the door, dropped his jacket, and sat on the bed. His hands shook slightly.
The rune had cost him a lot of mana. He needed rest. But his mind wouldn't stop spinning.
More pieces were coming back.
Images.
Flashes.
A tower of stars.
A girl's face, crying.
His hand, casting a spell that split the sky.
"Who... was I?" he whispered.
The past wasn't clear yet, but his body remembered the feeling. The control. The power.
He reached under his bed and pulled out the old journal he had found in the ruin. On the last page, a symbol had appeared—one he hadn't noticed before.
It matched the rune he carved today.
Eiden smiled faintly.
"This place still remembers me," he said softly.
And somewhere far away... something stirred.
A distant island.
A deep forest.
A dark hall where men in robes whispered around a flame.
A figure in a black cloak raised his head. "He's awakening," he said.
The others turned.
"The echo of Arkanos..."
---
Back at the academy, Eiden finally fell asleep, unaware of the eyes watching him.
Unaware that soon, his sword and magic would no longer be secrets.
And the world would begin to remember his name.