Morning sunlight spilled across the academy's stone courtyard, chasing away the mist that hung low over the training grounds. Rows of students stood in lines, waiting for instructions as the scent of burning mana filled the air.
"Today," said Professor Kald, a tall man draped in a coat that shimmered faintly with runes, "you will demonstrate your control. Not power — control. Remember that."
A murmur ran through the crowd. Everyone knew what that meant: duels.
Ira stood quietly at the far end, hands in his pockets, half-listening as the professor explained the rules. Around him, magic sparked in excitement — fire, wind, and flashes of energy lighting up the arena. To most, this was a chance to show off.
To him, it was a waste of time.
"Vale."
He looked up. Professor Kald's eyes narrowed slightly. "You'll observe for now. Your evaluation comes later."
Ira nodded, relieved to stay out of the commotion. But peace never lasted long here.
Not with people like Ren Alden around.
Ren — loud, overconfident, the kind of student who thrived on attention. His magic flared bright orange, the heat of it distorting the air. "Hey, shadow boy," Ren called across the field, "why don't you show us what that creepy aura of yours can do?"
A few students laughed nervously.
"I'd rather not," Ira said evenly.
Ren smirked. "Scared?"
Professor Kald frowned. "Enough. This isn't—"
Ren raised his hand, and fire leapt from his palm — a reckless arc of flame that hissed across the field straight toward Ira.
Gasps erupted.
The flame never reached him. It simply… vanished.
The air around Ira shimmered once — a faint ripple, like heat over glass — and the fire collapsed into ash mid-air. Silence fell. Even Professor Kald's expression faltered for a moment.
Ren blinked. "What— what was that?"
Ira exhaled quietly, almost bored. "Control."
He didn't move. He didn't even raise a hand. Yet every ember on the field flickered out at once.
Then something strange happened — the sigil carved into the arena wall glowed faintly blue. The same light that had followed him since the day before.
A soft whisper brushed through the air, unheard by most, but unmistakable to him.
"She's here."
He turned slightly — and there she was, standing at the edge of the crowd.
The girl from yesterday. The one with white hair and silver eyes.
For a brief moment, their gazes met.
And the sigil flared brighter — a pulse of energy sweeping through the arena like a heartbeat.
Every student froze.
Professor Kald shouted something, but the words drowned under the sudden hum of power.
Then, just as quickly as it came, the light faded.
Only Ira and the girl seemed unaffected.
He lowered his eyes, jaw tightening.
"It reacts… when we're near," he thought.
When the professor finally restored order, Ira was already gone — walking toward the far gate, the faint echo of whispers following him.
And from the shadows of the arena stands, a pair of unseen eyes watched them both.
"So, the bond truly exists…"