The day began like any other in the Academy: with nobles overreacting and commoners overthinking. But Kael? Kael just wanted to nap in peace.
Unfortunately, fate—or perhaps just a lack of seating—had other plans.
In the middle of the garden pavilion, the student council had arranged a "peaceful inter-class tea social." What it really was: nobles flaunting, underdogs pretending not to flinch, and instructors observing from afar while sipping absurdly expensive tea.
Kael sat at a stone bench under the cherry blossom tree, staring blankly at the porcelain teacup in front of him. He hadn't touched it. He hadn't blinked in nearly five minutes. His mind was somewhere else entirely.
Lyra sat beside him, nervously sipping from her cup. Her hands shook slightly, but her eyes followed Kael carefully.
On the far side of the pavilion, Elira Valciel watched the scene unfold with the precision of a trained hawk.
---
Elira's Suspicions
Elira Valciel, royal bloodline and top-tier student, had always trusted her instincts. And lately, her instincts were screaming about Kael Vaelthorn.
He didn't behave like a noble. Didn't walk like one, talk like one, or even eat like one. She had seen him break a mana barrier in class with a lazy flick of his fingers, the kind of control that required years of training. Yet he acted like it was nothing. As if reality simply bent to his will because it was too tired to argue.
That wasn't normal.
"He's hiding something," she muttered under her breath.
Raen, sitting beside her, blinked. "What?"
"Kael. He's not who he appears to be."
Raen chuckled. "You say that like he's a demon lord in disguise."
Elira didn't smile.
"I checked the Academy logs. His mana signature spiked during the Azure Clash. But he never trained in any combat club. No mentor. No guidance. Just... strength."
She glanced across the garden. Kael was now poking his tea with a spoon, looking bored.
"I'm going to find out the truth."
---
Lyra's Secret
Meanwhile, Lyra's hands were clenched tight in her lap.
She remembered Kael's words back during the first trial, when he had stepped in between her and the nobles who mocked her.
"If you've got time to bully someone, you've got time to improve yourself. Idiots."
That one moment changed everything for her. She'd always seen herself as weak—a healer with no noble blood, barely making it through the entrance exam. But Kael treated her like she belonged here. Not out of pity, but with simple acceptance.
But what she hadn't told anyone—especially not Kael—was that she had seen a strange vision the night he saved her. A divine spark, flickering behind his eyes. It terrified her.
She wasn't sure what Kael was... but she was certain he wasn't just a sleepy noble's son.
---
The Tea That Started a War
Back at Kael's bench, a loud crash echoed across the garden.
A second-year noble, Drian Fenmere, had spilled his tea. Not accidentally.
He pointed at Lyra. "This commoner shouldn't be here. This is a social for noble heirs, not street urchins pretending to fit in."
Lyra froze.
Kael didn't look up. "Spilling tea in front of cherry blossoms? That's a crime against serenity."
Drian sneered. "Oh? And what are you going to do, Kael Vaelthorn? Scowl at me until I behave?"
Kael stood up slowly. Not with anger. Just... mild disappointment. Like a man forced to leave a warm bed to silence a barking dog.
"I was enjoying the quiet," Kael said, voice flat. "Then you spoke."
Gasps rose from the crowd. Raen leaned forward. Elira narrowed her eyes.
Drian raised his staff, mana crackling around him.
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
Kael sighed.
"Don't say I didn't yawn first."
In a blink, Kael vanished.
A heartbeat later, Drian was flat on the ground, his staff broken, his robe fluttering in the wind. Kael stood over him, still bored.
"I was aiming to disarm. But I forgot you were this weak."
The crowd erupted. Instructors ran in. Noble girls shrieked. Tea cups shattered.
The garden was a warzone of misunderstanding and ego.
---
Aftermath
In her dorm that night, Elira stared at her notebook.
Kael had moved faster than her eyes could track.
She wrote three words:
Unnatural. Dangerous. Hiding.
But she also wrote a fourth:
Kind.
Meanwhile, Lyra sat in her own dorm, clutching the small gift Kael had given her earlier: a crystal pendant that softly pulsed with protective enchantment.
"Keep it," he had said. "In case someone annoys you while I'm napping."
She smiled. Just a little.
And far beneath the Academy, in a sealed chamber no one had entered for years, a black mark shimmered faintly on a stone pillar.
The Mark of the Spiral Eye glows again. The world begins to turn.