The dorms fell quiet as the moonlight stretched long shadows across the academy grounds. Most students had retired to their rooms, laughter and chatter fading into sleepy murmurs. But Aren couldn't sleep.
The events of the evening kept replaying in his mind: the strange fluctuation of mana near the west wing, the sharp chill in the air, and the uneasy gaze of Sharu, who now curled beside the window in their dorm room, silver fur gleaming softly under the moon.
Despite Sharu's usual attitude, tonight the beast was still—alert, even. His blue eyes never left the window.
"You felt it too, didn't you?" Aren whispered, sitting up in bed.
Sharu didn't answer, of course. He just turned his head slightly and gave Aren a brief glance before flicking his tail and closing his eyes again. But Aren could feel it through their bond—unease. A low hum, like the distant echo of something ancient stirring.
The academy wasn't just a place for learning anymore. It felt like a place watching him back.
---
The next morning dawned cloudy, the sun muted by gray skies. Aren walked to the training ground early, hoping to shake off the tension from the night before. As he reached the field, he found Dorian already there, striking the air with precise moves as his lion beast rested nearby.
"Didn't take you for a morning type," Dorian said, not breaking rhythm.
"Couldn't sleep," Aren admitted, stretching his arms.
Dorian paused. "You too, huh?"
"What do you mean?"
"There was... something weird last night. Felt like the wind shifted. My beast couldn't settle either."
Before Aren could reply, a voice chimed in from behind.
"You two noticed it as well?"
Liora approached, her icy demeanor as frosty as usual. Her Ice Wolf walked beside her, growling low under its breath.
"Don't tell me the mighty nobles got scared of a breeze," Dorian teased.
Liora's eyes narrowed. "This wasn't a breeze. Mana spiked—twice. And I tracked it to the old practice halls. But the door was sealed shut."
Aren frowned. "I thought that wing was closed off."
"It is," Liora confirmed. "Which is exactly why it's strange."
Lyra appeared next, silent as ever, but her stormy eyes gave away more than her words could. She didn't speak, only gave a small nod as if to say I felt it too.
The group stood in a loose circle now—Aren, Dorian, Liora, Lyra, and even Aric, who strolled in late yawning, his sun-colored cloak flapping behind him.
"Why do I feel like something's about to go wrong?" Aric said, glancing between them.
"Because it is," Lyra said softly, surprising everyone with her sudden speech. "Something old is waking up. And it's not happy."
---
Later that day, during their theory class with Instructor Halden, the students were shown illustrations of old beast classifications. Most of them were faded, hand-copied scrolls from ancient times.
Aren's gaze froze on one.
It depicted a silver creature with two small horns, almost catlike, standing atop a pedestal surrounded by radiant energy.
He leaned forward instinctively, heart pounding.
Sharu.
The resemblance was uncanny—though older, more regal. The sketch was labeled "Unnamed – Lost Era Classification. Sealed."
"Instructor," Aren said, hand half-raised. "This beast—do you know what it is?"
Halden squinted at the image. "That? Merely a myth. Rumors say it was a spirit beast once revered in the age before records. Said to absorb corrupted essence and purify it. Nonsense, of course—no known beast has ever done such a thing."
Aren didn't speak again, but his thoughts were racing. Could Sharu really be tied to something ancient? Was that ruined temple where he found him once a seal?
Sharu, lounging on the windowsill behind Aren's desk, blinked slowly—one blue eye half open as if amused.
---
That evening, the academy lit up with activity. Tomorrow, the instructors would announce team placements for the preliminary competition. Students gathered in the courtyard, speculating, forming alliances, and trying to show off their skills one last time.
Aren stood near the edge, watching.
Cale, his brother, strode by with his usual entourage. He didn't spare Aren a glance.
"You shouldn't hide in the corners, you know."
He turned to see Lyra, her bird perched on her shoulder, feathers crackling faintly with static.
"I'm not hiding."
"You are. You're strong, Aren. They just don't see it yet."
He didn't know how to respond. It was rare for anyone to believe in him outside his family—Lina, maybe. But this quiet, mysterious girl, who never laughed and always watched...
"You noticed something in the scroll, didn't you?" she asked quietly.
Aren hesitated, then nodded.
"You'll need to be careful," she said. "That kind of power doesn't stay hidden forever. And when it's noticed... not everyone will welcome it."
A gust of wind swept through the courtyard, causing Sharu's silver fur to ripple as he sat on the railing above.
His eyes gleamed—not with disdain this time—but with awareness.
---
That night, the dreams returned.
Aren stood again in the ruined temple, only this time the altar glowed with eerie symbols, and voices whispered in a language he didn't understand. Sharu stood at the center, larger now, wings curled against his body, his eyes glowing brighter than stars.
Aren reached forward, but the scene shifted violently.
He was no longer in the temple.
He stood above the academy, staring down as black mist crept from the sealed wing. Figures moved inside—shadows shaped like beasts, twisted and wrong.
One of them looked directly at him.
He woke with a gasp, covered in sweat. Sharu sat on his chest, tail curled around his feet.
The beast's eyes were calm—but they didn't hide the worry behind them.
Something was coming.
---