The sun was late.
It crept lazily across the morning sky, its light caught between the towering stone spires of the Celestial Academy. Kael stood alone in the outer courtyard, his breath rising in slow clouds.
His body ached.
After the incident in the Ember Cave, his training had only grown more brutal — not from instructors, but from himself. Because every time he touched the edge of that dark feeling inside… the Devourer stirred.
He needed to stay ahead of it.
He needed control.
---
"—and that, class, is why most of you will never reach beyond Fourth Star."
The voice echoed off stone and steel as Instructor Lysari paced the lecture hall with her usual icy grace.
Kael sat in the back, eyes half-lidded. But he was listening.
"Essence Veins," Lysari continued, tracing glowing lines midair with her chalk wand, "run through your body like rivers. They draw Celestial Energy from the stars, fueling your power."
A translucent figure shimmered behind her — glowing with flowing blue lines.
"Your Star Rank defines your limit. Most commoners awaken between 1 to 3 Stars. Nobles… higher. Some are even born with mutated Star Cores — bloodline gifts passed from parent to child."
Theron Varelan smirked in his seat near the center.
"As for types," Lysari went on, "elemental affinities dominate. Flame, wind, water, lightning. Some specialize in spiritual control. Fewer, in body reinforcement. And fewer still… bend rules entirely."
She didn't look at Kael.
But many students did.
Naya glanced over her shoulder at him. He hadn't touched his quill. Hadn't written a word.
And yet he looked… calm. Calculating.
"Now," Lysari said, her voice dropping, "we come to the Mind Core."
A diagram changed — from glowing veins to a swirling, crystalline orb.
"Past the Third Star, your mental discipline becomes everything. Power without focus leads to rupture. Madness. Or—"
"Devoural," a student whispered nervously.
Lysari nodded. "Yes. Those who cannot hold their power… become consumed by it."
---
After class, Naya cornered Kael outside the glass garden.
"You're not taking notes again."
Kael didn't look at her. "I remember what matters."
She crossed her arms. "You really think you can pass without memorizing formulas?"
"I'm not here to pass," he murmured. "I'm here to survive."
She blinked at that. Something in his tone sent goosebumps down her arms.
But Kael had already turned to leave.
---
Elsewhere…
Behind locked doors, Lioren stood before the Headmaster.
"You want to sponsor him?" the Headmaster asked, surprised.
Lioren's eyes didn't blink. "He needs guidance."
"He's a Zero-Star. A nobody."
"No," Lioren said. "He's a sealed vessel. And if he breaks the wrong way… you won't have an academy left to protect."
A silence stretched between them.
"Very well," the Headmaster muttered. "Train him. But keep him away from the Inquisition."
---
That night, Kael followed Lioren into a closed combat dome lit by floating crystals.
"You'll spar with me," Lioren said flatly. "But this isn't about strength. It's about restraint."
Kael braced himself.
Lioren's attack came like thunder — a palm strike that shattered air. Kael dodged, barely, the pressure splitting the floor behind him.
Another blow. Another slip. His instincts screamed to retaliate — to devour, to burn, to consume —
But he held back.
He let the pain in his ribs anchor him.
He let the weakness remind him that he was still human. Still Kael.
---
Days passed.
Whispers returned.
Some students feared him. Others wanted to provoke him.
A noble boy named Rellen tripped Kael in the hallway, loudly blaming his clumsiness. A lesser noble muttered how Kael's "filth" might contaminate the school well.
Kael said nothing.
But his fists clenched behind his robe.
Naya watched him more often now — studying him like a puzzle she couldn't yet solve. And sometimes, just sometimes, she caught the faintest flicker of… sorrow in his eyes.
---
One evening, a letter was slipped under Kael's door again.
But this time… it wasn't Astra's handwriting.
It bore a single word:
"Soon."