The morning sun struck the academy's silver towers as if trying to burn away the tension building within their walls. Students hurried across the courtyard, gossip trailing behind them like sparks from a forge.
A new boy had arrived.
A boy with impossible energy readings.
A boy who summoned an ancient Titan.
Every whisper carried his name, though none of them truly knew it.
Inside the training hall, the boy himself stood rigid and silent, staring at the vast metal arena before him. Runes pulsed along the ground, ready to channel Titan-summoning energy. The air trembled faintly with dormant power.
He swallowed hard.
He still didn't understand why he was here… or why Aureon had chosen him of all people.
Headmaster Corvos paced slowly around him, hands clasped behind his back, watching with the cold patience of a man who'd seen too much of the world's cruelty.
"You're shaking."
"I'm not afraid," the boy muttered.
"Being afraid is normal," Corvos replied. "Only fools aren't."
The boy didn't answer. His fists tightened at his sides. A flicker of white light quivered in his eyes—subtle, but unmistakable.
Corvos raised a brow. "There it is again. The flare."
"What does it mean?" he whispered.
"That you're not like the others," the old man said softly. "And that may be your greatest blessing… or your biggest curse."
The doors to the training hall slid open.
And the curse walked inside wearing a navy cloak edged in gold.
Students poured in, filling the stands with murmurs and excitement. Combat instructors took positions at the perimeter. The academy wanted to see the anomaly for themselves.
The boy kept his gaze low.
People staring made him uncomfortable.
People expecting something from him made it worse.
But today, no one expected more than the girl who slipped quietly into the upper gallery—her hood drawn low, her steps light as she tried not to attract attention.
Elyndra.
Her heartbeat accelerated when she finally spotted him on the arena floor. She hadn't imagined those eyes. Even at this distance, they were breathtaking—pure, bright, aching with power he didn't yet understand.
Lira elbowed her gently. "You shouldn't be here."
"And yet," the princess whispered, "here I am."
Down below, Corvos stepped aside.
"Begin."
The runes on the arena flared to life.
Wind spiraled upward. Sparks of pure light erupted from the boy's chest. Something vast stirred behind him—something ancient, metallic, and alive.
A deep hum vibrated through the hall.
Students gasped.
A shadow rose from the ground, towering, massive—the outline of a Titan before it took full form. Plates of metal assembled themselves from raw energy, locking into place as if obeying a long-forgotten command.
Aureon.
The Titan-King of legends.
His eyes ignited with molten gold, and every wall trembled with the weight of his awakening.
But something was wrong.
The energy around the boy spiked violently—too fast, too unstable. Aureon's armor flickered, then distorted, as if caught between materializing and shattering.
Corvos shouted, "Stop! You're pushing too hard—"
"I'm not doing anything!" the boy cried out.
White fire burst around him. Aureon roared—an echoing metallic bellow that rattled the windows. Students screamed. Runes sparked wildly, turning the arena floor into a sea of unrestrained magic.
The boy fell to one knee, clutching his chest.
He couldn't breathe.
He couldn't control it.
Aureon was overpowering him—
No.
Not overpowering.
Protecting.
But from what?
Elyndra shot to her feet.
"Something's destabilizing his core!" she shouted down, forgetting her disguise entirely. "He needs an anchor!"
Corvos snapped his head upward, eyes widening as he recognized the voice.
"Your Highness—!"
Too late.
She leapt over the gallery railing.
Gasps filled the hall as the princess of the kingdom dropped through the air—her cloak billowing, her hair flashing like silver flame.
She landed lightly on the arena floor, her boots skidding across glowing runes. The boy looked up, stunned, through the haze of white fire.
He had seen her only once.
For a heartbeat.
In the ruins.
And she had haunted him ever since.
Now she was here, eyes fierce, hand reaching for him.
"Look at me," she said. "Focus on my voice."
"I—I can't—"
"Yes, you can." Her tone softened. "You're not alone. Not anymore."
His breath trembled.
Aureon, sensing the shift in the boy's emotions, steadied. The Titan's flickering plates locked into solid form. The chaotic magic calmed, the white fire dimming to a gentle glow.
The boy's chest loosened. He inhaled slowly, shakily—his first stable breath since the surge began.
Elyndra held his hands tightly.
Her touch was warm.
Her eyes even warmer.
The entire hall stared, speechless.
A princess kneeling beside an unknown boy.
A Titan bowing behind them like a king paying homage.
Corvos exhaled a long, slow breath. "Well," he murmured. "This… complicates everything."
The boy looked at the princess, voice barely a whisper.
"Who are you?"
Her lips curved in a small, almost guilty smile.
"Someone who shouldn't care," she said.
"But does."
Aureon's golden eyes glowed brighter.
As if he approved.