Rumors and Ripples

Chapter 18 – Rumors and Ripples

The next morning, Kael's name was on everyone's lips.

Whispers followed him through the corridors of Arcanum Academy—some respectful, some bitter. His duel with Dorian had lit a spark, and not everyone was happy about it.

"He cheated, right?"

"No way someone with Blink could beat Dorian without tricks."

"I heard he used an illegal artifact."

Kael ignored the voices. Gossip didn't bother him. What mattered was progress—and today, he had his first Field Division orientation.

He arrived early, stepping into a smaller, elite wing of the academy reserved for students with advanced standing. The air here felt different. Less crowded. More… focused.

"Kael Ireth," a voice called from down the hall.

A tall girl with dark green hair approached. She wore the Field Division's signature coat—silver-trimmed black—and walked with the confidence of someone used to winning.

"You're the new guy," she said, stopping in front of him. "I'm Zera. Third-year. Division lead."

Kael offered a small bow. "Nice to meet you."

Zera's eyes scanned him critically. "Blink magic, huh? Not the kind we usually take in. Let's see if you can keep up."

She turned and gestured for him to follow.

"Let me guess," Kael said as they walked. "You think I shouldn't be here?"

Zera smiled without looking back. "I think you've got a target on your back now. And Field Division doesn't forgive failure."

Meanwhile, in the noble wing…

Selene paced her chamber.

She was supposed to be reviewing spell diagrams, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the duel. To him.

Kael.

He wasn't supposed to matter. He was beneath her—common-born, barely classified.

And yet…

He'd beaten Dorian. One of the academy's elite. Using strategy, quick thinking… and a spell everyone had mocked for years.

Selene moved to the mirror, staring at her reflection.

Why do you care? she asked herself.

But there was no answer. Only the faint echo of pride in her chest she couldn't seem to silence.

And maybe—just maybe—a twinge of something else.

Later that evening

Training room, Sector 7.

Kael stood across from a simulation dummy, bracer runes glowing faintly. He activated the Rune Core again, watching as the world slowed—faint afterimages tracing the past movement of everything around him.

Echoes.

He could see where attacks had landed. Where people had been. It wasn't true precognition, but it was close—like playing chess in four dimensions.

He Blinked, following one of the faint trails, landing behind the dummy and launching a series of rapid-fire strikes with a training wand.

"Too slow," Elith said from the corner.

Kael exhaled, stepping back. "I know. The afterimage delay isn't instant. Still getting used to it."

She nodded and crossed the room. "You're not just training harder. You're training smarter."

"Is that your way of saying I'm getting good?"

"It's my way of saying you might actually survive what's coming."

Kael paused. "What is coming?"

Elith looked away. "I heard whispers. The Academy's planning an early dungeon assessment. Field Division only."

Kael raised an eyebrow. "That's supposed to be months away."

"Exactly. Someone's accelerating things. And not everyone wants you to succeed."

The next day

Lyra found Kael outside the academy's south tower, sitting under a tree with a spellbook open across his lap.

"You've been avoiding me," she said flatly.

Kael looked up, surprised. "What? No—I've just been busy."

"Training with Elith. Following Zera around. Wandering the vaults. Yeah, sounds busy." She crossed her arms, then let out a sigh. "Sorry. I just… didn't expect you to get pulled so far ahead."

He closed the book and stood. "You think I'm leaving you behind?"

"I don't know what to think." She looked up at him. "You're changing, Kael."

He smiled gently. "Yeah. But I'm still me."

They stood in silence for a moment, the breeze ruffling Lyra's short red hair.

"You're still a show-off," she muttered.

"And you're still too stubborn to admit you're impressed."

They both laughed, the tension easing.

But not far away, someone else was watching from the tower balcony—eyes narrowed, blue and stormy.

Selene turned away.

She hated that laugh. Hated how it echoed in her mind long after the moment passed.

End of Chapter 18