The ceiling of the Basic Training Hall at Solaria Academy of Magic was an architectural marvel.
Gigantic crystals embedded in its peak filtered sunlight into a dancing spectrum of rainbow colors on the marble floor. The air inside vibrated with the low hum of mana-energy and dozens of students practicing, laughing, and occasionally cursing in frustration.
Amidst that symphony of energy, Arian Von Vallen was concentrating intensely—on failing.
"Focus, Arian! Imagine the energy gathering in your palm," Professor Elara's stern voice echoed. "This is the most basic spell, Create Light. You've been repeating it for thirty minutes."
In front of her, Arian extended his hand with an expression filled with feigned struggle. His brows furrowed, his lips trembling slightly. He took a deep breath, exactly as he'd been taught. Inside him, a calm and boundless ocean of mana churned—not from difficulty, but from the immense effort required to hold it back.
He channeled a tiny drop, the size of a needle's tip, from his ocean of power. Then he deliberately allowed the flow to become unstable, letting it "leak" before reaching his palm.
Pop.
A pathetic flicker of light, no brighter than a dying firefly, pulsed briefly then died. It was followed by a small wisp of smoke that smelled of burnt ozone.
Perfect. He failed with almost artistic precision.
Arian sighed, this time with genuine disappointment—not at his failure, but at how exhausting it was to pretend to be incompetent. He let his shoulders slump, his slightly disheveled blonde hair falling over his blue eyes, which now exuded an aura of defeat.
"I'm sorry, Professor. I'll try harder."
A friendly pat landed on his back. "Don't worry, Arian! You just haven't found your 'click' yet!" Zaken De Efasa grinned widely, his bright orange hair contrasting sharply with Arian's gloomy expression. In his hand, an apple-sized orb of light glowed steadily and warmly. "See? I struggled too. You just need to relax more."
"Thanks, Zaken," Arian offered a small, genuine smile.
Zaken was his anchor of sanity in this place. Their simple, honest friendship was the only thing that didn't feel like a lie. Zaken saw him as Arian, the friend who was a bit rubbish at practical magic, and Arian valued that honesty above all else.
"Relax?" a cold, sharp voice cut through the warmth. "Even commoners with no talent can cast this spell in their sleep."
Kaelen Valerius approached, his steps arrogant, his chin held high. He stopped in front of Arian, his sharp eyes glancing at Zaken's light orb with disdain before shifting to Arian's empty hands. "Von Vallen. Not even a great family name can buy talent, eh? Pathetic."
Zaken stepped forward, his expression hardening. "Watch your mouth, Valerius. Not everyone is obsessed with showing off like you."
Kaelen laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "This isn't showing off, Efasa. This is standard.
Something your friend here apparently doesn't grasp." He snapped his fingers. A dazzling ball of light, pulsing with controlled power, appeared above his index finger, making Zaken's light look like a candle in a storm. "This is talent. Learn."
Arian merely lowered his head, playing the role of the intimidated minor noble. In his mind, he analyzed Kaelen's magic with the calmness of a surgeon. Good control, but wasteful. He's leaking about 12% mana for visual intimidation. The output is strong, but the foundation is shaky. Just a flick at the right flow point, and the spell would explode in his face.
"That's enough, Kaelen," Arian said softly, his voice barely a whisper. "I know I'm not like you."
Kaelen snorted, dramatically extinguishing his light, then walked away to join his group of admirers.
Zaken patted Arian's back again. "Don't listen to him. He's just jealous you're more popular than him even though…" Zaken paused, unsure how to finish the sentence without being offensive.
"…even though I'm useless?" Arian finished with a wry smile.
"I didn't say that!"
Arian chuckled. The comedy in his tragedy.
Just then, the hall doors opened. Instant silence descended upon the previously noisy room. All eyes turned to a single figure who stepped inside: Verina Von Hevora.
Her long purple hair cascaded like liquid silk down her back. Her amethyst-colored eyes stared straight ahead, oblivious to the gazes of admiration, envy, and longing from around her.
She walked towards the private practice area in the farthest corner, every step exuding an aura of untouchable grace and power. She wore the same academy uniform as everyone else, but on her, it looked like a queen's robe.
Arian watched her, his mask of incompetence momentarily cracking due to an emotion he couldn't fully conceal.
In the public eye, they were two opposing poles. The supreme genius and the failed noble. They never spoke. They never greeted each other, as if they lived in different dimensions.
The hardest lie of all.
Professor Elara, who also seemed momentarily captivated, cleared her throat. "Alright, everyone! To conclude today, Miss Hevora will demonstrate advanced elemental application. Pay close attention. This is the level you should aspire to."
Verina stood in the center of the arena. She didn't utter a single word. She simply raised her hand.
Arian could feel it. The change in the air. The mana throughout the hall vibrated, not because it was forcibly pulled, but because it was responding.
As if the very air gladly offered itself to Verina.
Purple electricity began to crackle around her arms, dancing like docile little snakes. The electricity then spread, gathering above her palm, forming a solid lightning sword that pulsed with terrifying energy. The blade didn't just glow; it cleaved the air with a sharp, hissing sound. Perfect control, Arian thought, his eyes fixed. Not a single particle of mana wasted. She didn't command the lightning. She became the lightning.
With a single graceful motion, Verina swung her sword. There was no explosion. No roar. Only a silent streak of purple light shot across the room and struck the stone target at the farthest end.
For a split second, nothing happened. Then, a thin line of glowing purple appeared in the center of the target stone. Slowly, silently, the upper part of the stone slid sideways and fell to the floor with a shaking THUD. The cut was as smooth as glass.
The entire hall held its breath. Even Kaelen looked pale.
Verina allowed the lightning sword to dissipate into tiny sparks. She bowed slightly to the professor, then turned to leave. As she walked toward the exit, her purple eyes met Arian's blue eyes for a fleeting second.
No smile. No nod. No acknowledgment. But in the depths of that gaze, Arian saw it. A message only they could understand.
A flash of respect, a hint of concern, and a silent question: Are you okay with all this?
Arian merely shifted his gaze slightly, an equally silent answer: I have to be.
That was it.
Their interaction was complete. The perfect mirage was back in place. He was back to being the ordinary Arian Von Vallen, and Verina Von Hevora remained the untouchable star.
In this ocean of lies, only that gaze felt real.
Zaken whistled softly beside him. "Wow. That was… a different level. Sometimes I forget we go to the same school as her."
Arian merely nodded, his mind already elsewhere. Practice was over. The sun began to set, painting the academy towers with streaks of orange and purple. Students began to disperse, chatting about Verina's demonstration, dinner plans, or upcoming exams.
"Arian? Want to grab dinner together?" Zaken asked.
"Sorry, Zaken. I'm… a bit tired. I think I'll just head straight back to the dorm," Arian replied.
The exhaustion he felt wasn't physical. It was a weariness of the soul, the exhaustion of carrying the weight of two worlds on his shoulders.
He walked alone down the increasingly quiet corridor. His shadow stretched long on the walls illuminated by the twilight. The mask of the friendly, slightly awkward Arian began to fade, replaced by a blank, cold expression that no one at the academy had ever seen.
Solaria Academy, with all its drama and comedy, was just a stage. A comfortable prison cell.
The real work awaited beyond these walls, under the cloak of the vast city of Aethelgardia.
Tonight, Arian Von Vallen would sleep.
And Kayze would rise.