When it was Kael's turn to step forward, the room seemed to grow quieter—not out of anticipation, but disdain. Jarek, ever eager to assert his dominance, leaned back against a pillar with a smirk. "Well, well," he drawled loud enough for everyone to hear, "looks like we've reached the bottom of the barrel."
A few snickers rippled through the crowd, though they quickly faded as Kael moved into the center of the hall. His steps were deliberate, unhurried, yet there was an undeniable tension in the air—a shift that even those mocking him couldn't ignore. For a moment, silence reigned, heavy and suffocating.
Kael stood there, hands clenched at his sides, his mind racing. He could feel their eyes on him—some curious, most dismissive—but none mattered more than the two sets watching him most intently. Elira's gaze bore into him, her earlier unease replaced by something sharper, more focused. And behind her, Serena Valmere observed with cool detachment, her expression unreadable.
He had spent years enduring ridicule, being told he would never amount to anything. Now, here he was, standing before some of the most influential figures in Veyrith. The temptation to reveal everything—to show them all the darkness within him—burned hot in his chest. Yet caution whispered louder. Revealing too much could cost him everything. Could he afford to take that risk?
As if sensing his hesitation, Jarek spoke again, his voice dripping with mockery. "Come on, Kael. Don't tell me you're going to stand there like a statue. Show us what you've got—or are you just wasting our time?"
Kael's jaw tightened, his pulse quickening. Memories surged unbidden: the years of failure, the endless nights sitting alone in meditation chambers while others succeeded effortlessly. The laughter, the pity, the rejection. He wasn't just nobody—he was less than nothing. A ghost haunting the edges of a world that refused to acknowledge his existence.
But then came the void. The whispers. The tendrils of fear coiled deep within him, waiting to be unleashed. This was his ray of light—not golden threads plucked from the collective consciousness, but shadows forged from despair. It was ugly, terrifying, and utterly alien—but it was his.
And now, faced with the weight of expectation and derision, Kael embraced it.
At first, the change was subtle. A faint chill crept into the air, making the hairs on everyone's arms stand on end. The golden threads of energy that usually danced freely in the hall dimmed, as though recoiling from an unseen force. Whispers began to fill the space—low, distorted voices overlapping in languages no one present understood. They echoed off the stone walls, growing louder with each passing second.
"What… what is this?" someone murmured, their voice trembling.
"It's freezing in here!" another exclaimed, rubbing their arms vigorously.
Kael closed his eyes, focusing inward. He thought of every insult, every sneer, every moment of humiliation he'd endured—and let the anger swell within him. Fear fed on uncertainty, but terror thrived on rage. As the emotions collided, the shadows responded, pooling unnaturally along the walls and ceiling. Shapes began to form—indistinct, fleeting, but undeniably menacing. Clawed hands reached out, elongated figures loomed overhead, glowing eyes blinked open in the darkness.
Screams erupted throughout the hall. Some students stumbled backward, tripping over themselves in their haste to escape. Others froze, paralyzed by sheer dread. Even the representatives from the academies looked uneasy, exchanging wary glances as the oppressive atmosphere thickened.
Elira clutched her satchel tightly, her knuckles white. She recognized this feeling—the same dread that had permeated the foggy night when she'd been saved. Only now, it was stronger, sharper, impossible to ignore. Her mother, however, remained composed, her sharp gaze locked onto Kael with newfound interest.
"Remarkable," Serena murmured softly, almost to herself. Whether this was magic, illusion, or some hidden artifact didn't matter. What mattered was the effect—and the boy wielding it.
Kael felt the strain of maintaining the illusion pressing down on him, carving away pieces of himself with every passing moment. But he pushed through, letting the terror reach its peak before releasing it abruptly. The shadows dissolved, the whispers faded, and the temperature returned to normal. Gasps filled the room as people regained their composure, though several lay unconscious where they had collapsed in fear.
Without another word, Kael bowed deeply to the visitors, his movements stiff but respectful. Then, ignoring the stares and murmurs following him, he turned and walked calmly toward the Seekers' chamber, leaving chaos in his wake.
Inside the chamber, the finished participants gathered nervously, their conversations hushed but charged with tension. When Kael entered, the room fell silent. Some glanced at him warily, while others avoided his gaze altogether. Even Farris and Lira, who had previously dismissed him as irrelevant, watched him with a mix of awe and apprehension.
Jarek, still recovering from the ordeal, shot him a venomous glare. "What the hell was that? You trying to get us killed?"
Kael ignored him, moving to the far corner of the room. He leaned against the wall, his breathing shallow, his hands trembling slightly. The effort of controlling the void had left him drained, both physically and emotionally. Yet beneath the exhaustion lingered a flicker of satisfaction. For the first time in his life, he hadn't been invisible. He had commanded attention—not through begging or pleading, but through power.
Nearby, Elira entered the chamber, her expression thoughtful as she scanned the room. Her gaze landed on Kael briefly before shifting away, though not before he caught the flicker of curiosity in her eyes. Whatever she had sensed from him, it intrigued her. Perhaps even frightened her. But fear was familiar to Kael; it was a language he understood better than any other.
Serena followed shortly after, her presence commanding immediate silence. She surveyed the group once more, her sharp eyes lingering on Kael for a fraction longer than necessary. When she finally spoke, her voice carried authority tinged with intrigue.
"You have all demonstrated potential," she said evenly. "Some greater than others. We will return to discuss further evaluations. Until then, reflect on what you have shown today—and consider what you are willing to sacrifice to achieve greatness."
With that, she turned and exited, her entourage trailing behind her. As the door closed, the tension in the room eased slightly, though the lingering effects of Kael's display ensured no one forgot what they had witnessed.
For Kael, the day marked a turning point. He had stepped into the light—not as someone chosen by knowledge, but as someone who had claimed it for himself. And whether the world accepted him or rejected him, he knew one thing for certain:
They would never see him as nothing again.