The weeks at the Academy passed in a blur for Eryx. Every morning, he would wake up early, his room still cold from the night, and stare at the faint glow of the sunrise creeping through the windows. He had gotten used to the silence of his dorm room, the quiet that had once felt like a burden now settling into a kind of comfort. There were no distractions here, no reminders of the slums, and yet, the silence always seemed to press down on him, as though waiting for him to make his move.
His days were filled with classes—some of them exhausting, others oddly fascinating. There was something about the way magic was taught here that felt almost clinical. They broke everything down into components, dissecting spells and incantations like pieces of a puzzle. For Eryx, who had always relied on instinct, it was a new kind of learning. His raw talent was enough to impress the instructors, but now they wanted to see more. They wanted to see precision, control, and discipline. And as the days went by, Eryx realized that, no matter how powerful he was, that wasn't going to be enough here.
In the evenings, he would often walk through the long corridors of the Academy, his footsteps echoing softly against the cold marble floors. The place always seemed alive, even when it was empty. The laughter and voices of his fellow students filled the air, but there was something distant about it all. He had yet to make true friends here, and in many ways, he felt like a ghost wandering through a place where everyone else seemed to already have their place.
It was during one of these quiet walks that he encountered Liora again.
She was standing in front of one of the many windows, her back to him, gazing out at the sprawling campus below. The golden light of the setting sun painted her profile in warm hues, making her seem almost ethereal, as if she belonged to another world altogether.
Eryx hesitated, unsure if he should approach her. She had never spoken to him directly, but there was something about her presence that felt… significant. Like she had the power to shape the course of things without even trying. He had been avoiding her, not wanting to get caught up in the web of attention that seemed to follow her wherever she went. But this time, something drew him toward her.
As he stepped closer, she spoke without turning around. "You're quiet," she said, her voice soft but sharp. "It's not a bad thing, but it makes me wonder if you're as good at hiding as you think."
Eryx paused. He hadn't meant to get caught in her gaze, but now that he had, he couldn't look away. "I don't hide," he replied, his tone steady, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his chest. "I just observe."
She turned to face him then, her gaze steady and calculating. "Observation can be dangerous," she said quietly, almost as if speaking more to herself than to him. "People like to be seen, especially here. If you're not careful, you'll find that what you observe can come back to haunt you."
There was something in her eyes—a warning, maybe—but it was veiled in something deeper, something that Eryx couldn't quite place. It intrigued him, and yet, he couldn't quite bring himself to trust her.
"You speak like you've seen it all before," Eryx said, studying her carefully. "Are you saying you've been through it?"
Liora's lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. "We all have our battles," she replied cryptically. "But it's not always the ones we expect that define us."
For a moment, they stood in silence, the weight of her words hanging between them like an invisible thread. Eryx couldn't quite understand what she meant, but somehow, he knew that this conversation was just the beginning.
Before he could speak again, she turned away, her footsteps light as she moved toward the door. "Keep your eyes open, Eryx," she called over her shoulder. "Not everyone here is what they seem."
With that, she was gone.
Eryx stood there for a long time, staring at the space where she had been, her words echoing in his mind. What did she mean by "not everyone"? And why did it feel like she knew something he didn't? It was as if there was a game being played here—a game that he wasn't yet ready to understand.
Later that night, as Eryx lay in bed, he thought about what Liora had said. She wasn't the only one who had caught his attention. In the days that followed, he found himself noticing things—small things—that he hadn't before. There was the way certain students seemed to look at him with a mixture of curiosity and caution, like they were sizing him up. The way some of the older students would whisper when he passed, as if he was already part of their conversations, even though he hadn't said a word to them.
It was starting to feel like the Academy was a place where everyone had an agenda, even the ones who seemed the most unassuming. And in that world, Eryx realized, it would be impossible to remain neutral.
As the weeks stretched on, Eryx's training became more demanding. His instructors pushed him harder, testing his abilities and his focus. He could feel the weight of their expectations bearing down on him. They wanted results, they wanted excellence. And for the first time, he began to question whether he was truly ready for what lay ahead.
But no matter how hard the training became, no matter how much the pressure built, Eryx remained calm. He had always been like this—cold, calculating. It was how he survived. But as the days passed, he began to feel something else stir inside him. Something deeper, something more than just the instinct to survive. He wasn't just here to pass. He was here to win.
And soon, he would have to face what that meant.