Caelum

The night was restless.

Sleep didn't come easily, not after the trial, not after the examiner's words, not after standing in front of the Headmaster himself and realizing just how small he was in the grand scheme of things.

He lay in the unfamiliar bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the enchanted lantern flickering overhead. It cast long, shifting shadows against the walls, a reminder that even in the safety of Aetheris Academy, darkness still crept in the corners.

A name.

He needed a name.

He had lived without one for so long that the idea of having one again felt… strange. It wasn't just about something to call himself. A name in this world was a declaration. It determined status, potential, the path one was expected to follow.

For most, names were inherited, passed down through bloodlines, carved into the foundation of history itself.

But for him?

He had nothing to inherit.

Nothing but a past he couldn't remember and a future he had yet to claim.

A sigh escaped his lips. Rolling onto his side, he shut his eyes and tried to force himself to rest. He had no choice. Tomorrow, everything continued—whether he was ready or not.

Morning came sooner than expected.

The academy grounds were alive with movement, students streaming from their dormitories toward the grand halls. The sky overhead was a pale blue streaked with faint wisps of silver mist, remnants of the night's protective enchantments slowly dissipating with the sunrise.

The nameless boy walked in silence, blending into the crowd. Some students cast him curious glances, but most ignored him. He wasn't worth their attention—not yet.

Selene, on the other hand, had no problem drawing attention.

"Morning, ghost-boy," she greeted, falling into step beside him as if they had walked this path together for years. Her white hair shimmered under the sunlight, a stark contrast to the dark uniform she wore.

He shot her a look. "That's not my name."

"It's what everyone's calling you now," she replied with a shrug. "Might as well embrace it."

He sighed.

Selene grinned. "Besides, you'll be getting a real name soon, right? Maybe they'll call you something cool, like Black Fang or Voidborn or—"

"I doubt they'll give me something that dramatic," he muttered.

She hummed, amused. "Guess we'll find out soon enough."

As they approached the central training grounds, the crowd of students thickened. Unlike the trial, where they had been divided, today's gathering brought together all of the academy's fresh recruits—nobles, commoners, and everyone in between.

And standing at the center of it all, waiting, was the examiner.

"Form a line," the man ordered.

The students obeyed, arranging themselves in a loose formation.

The nameless boy exhaled slowly. This was it.

The examiner's gaze swept over them before he spoke.

"Names hold weight," he said, his voice carrying across the courtyard. "They are the foundation of who we are. They bind us to our past, shape our future, and define our place in this world."

A pause.

"Some of you were born into names that carry power." His eyes flickered toward the noble heirs in the group. "Some of you will spend your lives trying to prove that your name means something." His gaze shifted toward the commoners and minor family descendants.

Then, finally, his eyes landed on him.

"And some of you… have lost your names entirely."

The whispering began again.

The nameless boy stood still, unwavering beneath the scrutiny.

"The academy does not allow ghosts to walk its halls," the examiner continued. "As such, for those without a name… one will be assigned."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. The idea of having a name given rather than inherited was rare. Almost unheard of.

But the academy was different. It did not care for tradition the way noble families did.

"Step forward," the examiner commanded.

The nameless boy inhaled deeply before moving.

He felt the weight of a hundred eyes on him, some filled with curiosity, others with judgment.

The examiner reached into his robes and pulled out a small, weathered scroll. "This name will be yours. You will carry it with the same weight as any other student of this academy. Understood?"

"Yes."

The examiner unrolled the scroll. His sharp gaze flickered across the words written within.

Then, he spoke.

"From this day forward, you are Caelum."

The name settled in the air like a brand being seared into existence.

The boy—Caelum—felt something stir within him. A pulse of recognition, like the name had always been there, waiting to be spoken.

Not the name he had lost.

But the name he had been given.

He met the examiner's gaze and nodded. "Understood."

The murmuring among the students grew, but the examiner didn't acknowledge it. He simply rolled up the scroll and turned back to the rest of the group.

"Now," he said. "With your names in place, we begin your true training."

A shift in the air. A subtle change in pressure.

The students straightened instinctively.

"In three days, you will face your second trial," the examiner continued. "This one will test more than just your ability to survive. It will test your ability to fight."

The tension among the students rose.

The first trial had been brutal. But at least it had been a test of endurance.

This time, they would have to prove themselves in direct combat.

"You will be assigned mentors," the examiner went on. "Instructors who will refine your abilities, sharpen your strengths, and expose your weaknesses. Use these next three days wisely."

A flick of his wrist. A glowing sigil appeared in the air, displaying a list of names alongside the mentors they had been assigned.

Caelum's gaze moved down the list.

Then he saw it.

His own name—newly given—paired with a mentor.

His breath caught.

Instructor: Varian, the Silent Blade.

The name was legendary. One of the strongest warriors to ever emerge from Aetheris Academy. A man who had once been the right hand of an Abyssal-tier warrior.

Selene whistled beside him. "Damn. You got him?"

Caelum said nothing.

But deep inside, something stirred.

His past had been erased. His name had been rewritten.

But now?

Now he had a path forward.