The night Kaelen first arrived at Veyra Academy, the city lights below looked like a sea of stars turned upside down. From the dormitory window, he could see the lower tiers stretching endlessly, their glow pulsing faintly through the mist. The Academy itself was quiet–too quiet. The corridors were empty, the air still, the faint hum of the current lines running through the walls, the only sound.
He had been assigned a room on the east wing, a modest space with a single bed, a desk, and a narrow window overlooking the floating gardens. The sheets were crisp, untouched. The air smelled faintly of sterilized metal. It should have felt like a beginning. Instead, it felt like a cage.
Kaelen sat on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped tightly.
The silence pressed against him, heavy and unfamiliar. He had imagined this moment, walking through the Academy gates, standing where legends had trained... but now that he was here, the reality felt hollow.
He stood, pacing the small room. The floor panels glowed faintly beneath his steps, reacting to his movement. The walls seemed to hum with restrained energy, the kind that made the air vibrate just enough to make him feel weird.
He thought of his mother, her voice, her laughter, the smell of solder and tea that always clung to her clothes. He thought of the way she had smiled when he left, proud but worried.
He couldn't stay. Not tonight. He couldn't leave her a letter and just leave. This was running heavily on his mind.
The decision came quietly, without drama. He packed his small bag, slung it over his shoulder, and slipped out of the dormitory. The corridors were dim, the light panels set to night mode. His footsteps echoed softly as he made his way toward the main gate.
The guards didn't stop him. There was no rule against leaving before official registration. The Academy was still in its preparatory phase, no students present yet, no classes, just staff and evaluators.
The tram station was nearly empty. He boarded the late-night line, the hum of the engines filling the silence he carried with him. As the Academy's towers receded into the distance, he felt the tension in his chest ease.
He didn't know if it was cowardice or clarity, but he needed to see home one more time.
...
The lower tiers greeted him with their usual warmth and noise. The air was thicker here, tinged with the scent of oil and rain. The streets glowed with neon signs and flickering lamps, the hum of machinery blending with the chatter of late-night vendors.
By the time he reached his neighborhood, the sky had deepened to indigo. The workshop was still lit, a soft amber glow spilling through the windows.
He hesitated at the door, then knocked lightly.
It opened almost immediately. His mother stood there, her dark hair tied back, streaked faintly with silver. Her skin was warm brown, her eyes sharp and tired but kind. She wore her usual work apron, smudged with grease and solder dust.
"Kaelen?" she said, surprise flickering across her face. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be settling in."
He managed a small smile. "I tried."
Her expression softened. "Cold feet?"
"Something like that."
She stepped aside, motioning him in. "Come on, then. You can tell me over tea."
The workshop smelled exactly as he left it; metal, oil, and the faint sweetness of dried herbs she kept near the vents to mask the fumes. The walls were lined with shelves of tools and half-finished devices, their surfaces cluttered but organized in her own meticulous way.
He sat at the small table near the back while she filled the kettle.
"I thought you'd be too excited to return," she said, setting two cups down.
"I was," he admitted. "Then I got there, and it just… didn't feel right. Not yet."
She poured the tea, the steam curling between them. "It's a big change. It's normal to feel out of place."
He nodded, staring into his cup. "The dorm was empty. The halls were quiet. It didn't feel like a school, it felt–it felt like a silent dead world waiting to be revived."
She smiled faintly. " You're stressing over it, once the students arrive, it'll come alive. You'll see."
He looked up at her. "You're not disappointed?"
"Disappointed?" She laughed softly. "Kaelen, you came home instead of pretending you were fine. That's not weakness. That's honesty."
He smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Thanks, Mom."
"Get some rest," she said, standing. "You've got your evaluation tomorrow, don't you?"
"Yeah. How are you aware?"
"...You left a letter"
"Oh... I totally forgot that. It's Nine tomorrow"
"Then you'll need a clear head. The academy can wait."
He nodded, finishing his tea. The warmth settled in his chest, grounding him.
That night, he slept in his room, surrounded by the quiet of the low-tiers. The city's noise faded into a lullaby, and finally, anxiety washed off him. He slept deeply.
...
Morning came with the soft glow of filtered sunlight through the window. His mother was already awake, preparing breakfast. The smell of toasted bread and spiced tea filled the air.
He dressed quickly, black trousers, a gray shirt, and the light jacket the academy had issued him. His hair, black and slightly unruly, refused to stay down no matter how many times he ran his fingers through it. His red eyes caught the morning light, reflecting faint traces of gold.
His mother looked up as he entered. "You look like someone ready to face the world."
He smiled. "Trying to."
She handed him a small packet of food. "For later. You'll thank me."
He took it, tucking it into his bag. "Thanks."
At the door, she hugged him tightly. "Go show them what you're made of."
"I will."
The tram ride back to the upper tiers felt different this time. The city below looked less intimidating, more familiar. The academy's towers rose ahead, gleaming in the morning light.
When he stepped through the gates, the guards nodded in recognition. The halls were still quiet, but the silence no longer felt oppressive. It felt like anticipation.
The evaluation center was located in the west wing; a sleek structure of glass and steel, its walls lined with glowing aetheric lines that pulsed faintly like veins of light. The air inside was cool, carrying the faint scent of ozone and polished metal.
A woman waited near the entrance, her posture straight, her expression composed. She had pale skin, short auburn hair, and sharp green eyes that missed nothing. Her uniform was a tailored gray suit with the academy's insignia embroidered in silver on the collar.
"Kaelen Burn?" she asked.
"Yes."
"I'm Registrar Elen Torr. I'll be overseeing your evaluation today."
Her voice was calm, professional. She held a tablet in one hand, its surface glowing faintly. "You'll begin with a physical assessment, followed by aptitude testing and a brief interview with the admissions board. Standard formal procedure for most offered a scholarship. "
Kaelen nodded. "Understood."
"Good. Follow the blue markers on the floor. They'll guide you."
He followed the glowing path through a series of corridors until he reached a large chamber filled with diagnostic equipment. Two technicians waited near the center; one tall and broad-shouldered, with dark skin and close-cropped hair, the other shorter, with light brown skin and a shock of silver-dyed hair that caught the light.
"Candidate Burn?" the taller one asked.
"That's me."
"Step onto the platform, please."
The platform rose slightly as he did, vibrating softly beneath his boots. A grid of light swept over him from head to toe, mapping his vitals and energy signature.
"Height, one-eighty-two centimeter," the technician murmured. "Weight, seventy-three Kg. Heart rate elevated, normal for evaluation."
Kaelen smiled faintly. "Guess I'm not the first."
"Not even close," the man said, returning the smile.
The scan ended with a soft chime. The silver-haired technician handed him a small device shaped like a ring. "Grip test. Squeeze until the light turns red."
He did. The device pulsed once, then dimmed.
"Good. Reflex test next."
A panel lit up before him, flashing random sequences of lights. He tapped them as they appeared, his movements steady and precise. The System's passive skills; Chrono-Perception and Spatial Awareness, made the task almost effortless, though he kept his pace natural.
When the test ended, the technician nodded approvingly. "Excellent response time. You've got good control."
Kaelen stepped down from the platform. "That's it for the physical?"
"For now. You'll proceed to the aptitude wing next–Hall E. Follow the green markers."
He thanked them and left.
The corridors leading to Hall E were lined with transparent panels displaying holographic projections of past graduates... mages, engineers, strategists. Their names glowed beneath their images, each one a reminder of the Academy's legacy.
Hall E itself was smaller, warmer. A single proctor sat behind a curved desk, her dark hair tied back in a braid. Her skin was olive-toned, her eyes a deep brown that seemed to weigh every word. She wore a simple navy uniform with silver trim.
"Kaelen Burn," she said, gesturing toward the seat across from her. "Please, sit."
He hesitated slightly, before he did.
"This portion evaluates cognitive and analytical aptitude," she explained. "You'll be presented with a series of scenarios. There are no right or wrong answers–only insight."
He nodded.
The first scenario appeared on the screen before him; a schematic of a damaged transport engine. He was asked to identify the fault and propose a repair. The next involved resource allocation during a crisis, how to distribute limited energy cells among failing systems. Then came ethical hypotheticals, questions that twisted logic and morality together until they blurred.
He answered carefully, not quickly. He'd learned that speed impressed some evaluators, but thoughtfulness impressed the ones who mattered.
When the final scenario faded, the proctor smiled faintly. "You approach problems like an engineer, not a soldier. That's good."
He wasn't sure if it was praise or an observation. "Thank you."
"You'll receive your results after the board review. Proceed to the interview chamber–Hall A."
The path to Hall A wound through the academy's central atrium. Sunlight filtered through the glass ceiling, scattering across the marble floor. A fountain stood at the center, its water suspended in slow, deliberate arcs, manipulated by subtle aetheric fields. Kaelen paused beside it, watching the droplets hang in midair before falling again. It reminded him of the moment before a decision... the stillness before motion.
The interview chamber was smaller than he expected, almost intimate. Three members of the admissions board sat behind a curved table.
The woman in the center had light brown skin and silver hair pulled into a tight bun. Her eyes were gray, sharp but not unkind. To her left sat a man with dark hair streaked with white, his uniform immaculate, his expression unreadable. The third was younger, with pale skin and amber eyes that seemed to catch every flicker of movement.
"Kaelen Burn," the woman said. "You've completed the preliminary assessments. This final portion is conversational. We'd like to understand your motivations and expectations."
He nodded, folding his hands in his lap. "Of course."
"We are well aware that Veyra Academy's scout wasn't the only one to make you an offer." The woman in the middle with the silve hair said. "Considering a S-Grade like yourself and, a Chronomancer at that, a dual user of two rare abilities under the unique class." She scanned his reaction as she paused. "The question bags, why choose Veyra Academy among your countless offers?"
He hesitated, then said, "Because it's the only place that doesn't see power as property. At least, that's what I've been told."
The woman's brow lifted slightly. "And you believe that?"
"I want to," he said. "I think belief has to start somewhere."
The man to her left leaned forward. "You've been classified as Unique Class, S‑Grade, even though you recently just awakened. That brings attention. Pressure. How do you intend to manage that?"
Kaelen met his gaze. "By remembering that classification isn't identity. It's a label. Useful, maybe, but not defining."
The younger examiner smiled faintly. "You speak like someone who's already been tested."
Kaelen's lips curved slightly. "Maybe I have."
The woman nodded once, making a note on her tablet. "That will be all. You'll receive confirmation of your placement within forty‑eight hours. Welcome to Veyra, Candidate Burn."
He stood, bowed slightly, and left the chamber.
Outside, the corridors seemed brighter. The tension that had coiled in his chest all morning began to ease, replaced by quiet exhaustion. He walked without direction for a while, exploring the empty halls. The academy's silence no longer felt intimidating, it felt peaceful, like a promise of what could be built here.
He found himself in the courtyard again, beneath the silverleaf trees. The leaves shimmered softly, catching the filtered light. He sat on a bench, letting the stillness settle around him. For the first time since the registry, he felt something close to calm.
...
When he finally left the Academy, the city greeted him with its usual low noise... trams gliding, vendors calling, the layered rhythm of life returning. He boarded the lower‑tier line, heading home.
The ride down was long, but his thoughts were light. He had done it. The evaluation was over. Whatever came next, he was ready.
His mother was waiting when he arrived, standing by the window with a cup of tea in hand. The light caught her face, softening the lines of worry that had deepened over the years.
"Well?" she asked.
He smiled. "It's done."
"And?"
"I think I passed. The scholarship is secured "
She laughed softly. "You always think that."
"This time, I'm sure."
She set her cup down and crossed the room, pulling him into a hug. "I'm proud of you, Kaelen."
He held her tightly. "Thanks, Mom."
They stood there for a moment, the world outside fading into the background.
When she finally stepped back, she said, "So, when do you go back?"
"Well two month time after the pratical tests for all students and the academy fully starts its course. They'll send me a confirmation within forty-eight hours"
She nodded. "Then we'll have dinner together."
He smiled. "I'd like that."
Dinner was simple; rce, vegetables, and spiced broth. They ate in comfortable silence, the kind that needed no words. Afterward, she poured tea, the steam curling between them.
"You look tired," she said.
"I am."
"Then rest."
He nodded, finishing his tea. The warmth lingered long after the cup was empty.
...
That night, he lay in his old bed, staring at the ceiling. The city's hums faintly seeped through the walls, familiar and distant all at once. He thought about the academy, the glass towers, the quiet halls, the fountain that defied gravity. He thought about the evaluators' eyes, curious rather than fearful. It was a small thing, but it mattered.
He felt the weight of his mother's words settle in his chest...Remember who you are.
He smiled, quiet and certain.
The future waited, vast and uncertain, but it was his to walk.
With that thought he drifted to sleep.