The air had shifted. Not just around Dawn, but within him.
He sat cross-legged in their usual study room, the quiet hum of the Primordial Academy a muted backdrop. In front of him lay a worn, leather-bound tome: the Codex of Ascended Forms. Unlike the crisp, academic texts from the Grand Archives, this one bore the marks of time—creases, faded ink, and a scent like ancient parchment kissed by candlelight.
It had been given to him months ago. Not by an instructor, not officially.
A frail old assistant who had seemed to be reorganizing scrolls near the west atrium had approached him without warning. His words were few. " Look up to it when you have the time"
Afterwards, he never saw the old man again, evn the other assistant and senior students knew nought of him.
Dawn had since realized who it likely was.
The Grand Instructor.
A presence said to observe more than teach. To wait and watch for sparks in the dark.
And now, the codex was open before him.
The requirements for the Luminous Frame were clear:
1. Possess three halos of refinement.
2. Acquire an apparatus, personalized and attuned.
3. Find a location where light had taken solid form—a convergence of radiance and resonance.
Dawn had achieved the first. After a month of enduring, of refining his mind, his breath, his inner world beneath the constant weight of mockery, he had forged three distinct halos. They spun now, invisible to all but him, hovering over his heart like silent sentinels.
Gary leaned over the codex, eyes scanning the list. "I'll handle the apparatus," he said. "With my family's access, I can commission something custom within the week. Something worthy."
Ingrid, still drying her damp boots from the morning's targeted 'accident,' nodded without hesitation. "Then I'll find the location. There are whispers of a cavern beneath the southern cliffs. Light drips from the walls like honey, they say. I'll confirm it."
Dawn gave no outward reaction. But inside, something stirred. They weren't just with him—they were committed.
The next few days shifted dramatically.
Cedric's group tried to push again. A toppled chair here, a misplaced weight there. But Ingrid had become as unreadable as Dawn now. She no longer flinched, no longer responded. She simply adjusted her path and kept walking, eyes fixed on a vision only she could see.
It was unsettling to the bullies.
One day, Cedric dropped a stack of books near her in the library. She didn't even blink.
"She's gone weird," one of the second-years muttered. "Like she doesn't even hear us."
But others had started noticing too. Not just the students.
Luna Ashbourne, the princess of the southern reaches and perhaps the most powerful among the current students, paused during a courtyard stroll when she spotted Dawn meditating beneath the cascade tree. Her entourage whispered, but Luna merely tilted her head.
"Watch that one," she said. "He's shedding something."
Instructors were watching, too. Valeris, known as the one who waits, kept his distance but often lingered at the edge of practice halls where the trio trained in silence.
"Let them struggle," he told his peers. "The world won't coddle them either."
Aeliana, ever the concerned voice among the faculty, disagreed. "There are limits, Valeris. Even iron breaks under constant stress."
But for now, no official reprimand came. The Academy was old. It believed in pressure, and in the refinement it brought.
Each night, Dawn would retreat to the fountain in the east courtyard. There, beneath the moon's reflection, he'd stare at himself.
He looked unchanged.
But he felt it. The weight of silence. The clarity it brought. The cold fire in his blood.
Three halos.
And it was time to ascend again.
---
When they gathered next—just the three of them, late evening with the city's lights dimmed in the distance—Ingrid had dirt on her coat and triumph in her eyes.
"I found it," she said, breathless. "The Hollow of Stilled Light. South cliffs. The walls glow. Always."
Gary produced a scroll from his inner pocket. "The smith begins tomorrow. Gold-infused alloy. Lightweight. Calibrated to your resonance signature. No wasted energy."
And Dawn…
He extended a hand, not to them, but toward his own chest. Three faint halos shimmered—momentarily—like glints on still water. Then vanished.
Not many ever saw halos manifested outside of meditation. Not even among peers. To see them now, even for a flicker, made Ingrid's urge to show off.
She concentrated and five glowing circles surrounded her. She looked like a fairy protected by six realms.
Gary's competitiveness took control as he too showed what he was capable of. Eight golden halos surrounded him, making him look like a Divine Sentinel wearing golden armour woven of Light.
Compared to them, Dawn's twinkling halos were tiny and unnoticeable yet they stood out somehow. His Halos seemed more potent than even Gary's.
Gary stared, throat dry.
"Why does it feel like you are hiding something?"
Ingrid nodded in agreement.
"I am hiding many things indeed but the number of halos isn't on the list."
Gary smirked, "Everyone has a secret kept close to their chest. No need to bluff out. My father warned me that even wall have ears, though I don't know what he meant by that"
"He is right," Dawn said simply, taking the conversation no further than that.
"You're not doing this just to prove something to Elias, are you?" Ingrid asked softly, concerned.
"No," Dawn replied. "I'm doing this because I'm not satisfied with my current state. I need to improve."
Gary was quiet for a long time. Then he smiled, tight and fierce.
"Then let's burn a path they can't follow."
Above them, clouds parted. Moonlight poured like silver silk, catching in the fountain's ripple.
Dawn closed his eyes.
The next ascent was close.
And this time, the world would feel it.