Ivy's questions came rapid-fire as they traversed Cloudspire's moonlit corridors. "How'd you master fifth-tier spells so fast?" "Are you fire-affinity primary?" "Do you meditate during full moons?" Her starstruck gaze burned hotter than any flame magic.
Kael edged toward an intersecting hallway. "Late for... alchemy drills." The excuse sounded pathetic even to his ears.
"Wait! Let me—"
He vanished around the corner before she could finish, leaving the bubbly first-year pouting at empty air. Across three realms, he'd faced necromantic hordes and elder wyrms—none compared to this wide-eyed novice's relentless curiosity.
Meanwhile, Ethan's entourage wound through Blaze Citadel's torchlit tunnels. Jack limped alongside his champion, frustration etching his battered features. "Why bother acknowledging that rookie? He's flashy, sure, but..."
The golden-haired warrior stroked his chin. "Three years ago, you challenged me after losing to a third-tier mage."
Jack's ears reddened. "Ancient history."
"Today's Celestial Haven mages stood their ground." Ethan's boots echoed against stone. "They coalesced around that boy like mana vortices. That's dangerous."
The axeman trailing them snorted. "Bookworms playing soldier."
Ethan's gaze sharpened. "Desperation forges unity. Crush their hope properly at the tournament." His knuckles cracked—a habitual gesture before major battles. "Kael's no Dylan. He's... raw. Unpredictable."
Jack scowled. "You want him strong enough to make your victory meaningful."
A rare grin split Ethan's stoic mask. "Three effortless championships grow tedious."
Back in Celestial Haven's dormitories, Kael leaned against his chamber door, the Silent One's sigils already glowing across his palms. Ivy's interrogation had revealed an unexpected truth—his presence had become a rallying cry.
Three months to hone not just spells, but an entire academy's wounded pride.
Somewhere in Blaze Citadel's depths, twin flames kindled—one gold, one crimson—each anticipating the inferno to come.
Cloudspire's arched corridors buzzed as Kael returned. Mages nodded greetings—juniors with awestruck stares, seniors with measured respect. A cluster of first-year girls giggled behind spellbooks, their blushing glances lingering until he passed. One bold admirer pressed a perfumed letter into his hand with a flirtatious wink before fleeing down the hall.
"Celebrity treatment already?" Kael muttered, tucking the unopened missive into his satchel. His chambers offered temporary refuge, though the stone walls couldn't mute the implications. Three months remained until the tournament—time enough for dark horses like Amelia, the sixth-tier knight who'd abstained last year, or the enigmatic Finn to emerge. Previous rankings meant nothing now.
The summons came during evening lectures. Evelyn's crimson robes hugged her curves as she swept into the elemental theory hall, her entrance pausing even the most distracted students mid-yawn. Finn's infatuation became understandable, though Kael noted the fire mage's strategic avoidance of her gaze.
"Apologies for the delay," she announced, though her sideways glance at Kael suggested the tardiness wasn't accidental. "Today we dissect the Raphael Matrix—foundation of all intermediate conjurations."
Her teaching style proved as captivating as her appearance. Where other professors droned through rote incantations, Evelyn breathed life into arcane theory, demonstrating how wind currents could amplify frost spells. Kael found himself leaning forward despite his celestial knowledge—a rare compliment to any instructor.
When the dismissal chime rang, her voice cut through the scraping chairs. "A moment, Kael."
They walked the empty corridor in weighted silence, Evelyn's nails tapping rhythmically against her obsidian staff. "Fifth-tier proficiency as a freshman..." She paused before a stained-glass window depicting ancient archmages. "Such raw power demands direction. Have you considered elemental specialization?"
The question hung like a lit fuse. Below them, Cloudspire's central courtyard lay quiet—a battlefield transformed back into mere stones and soil, awaiting the next storm.
Evelyn's obsidian staff tapped against the flagstones as they walked, its rhythmic clacks underscoring her words. "Intermediate mages face a crossroads. The six elemental disciplines—fire, water, wind, earth, light, darkness—demand specialization. Raw talent can only carry you so far."
Kael nodded. This truth transcended realms—the necessity of focus in mastering arcane arts.
"Headmaster Austin believes you warrant prioritized development." Her scarlet lips curved. "My proposal? Pyromancy specialization. Should you choose this path, I'll personally oversee your training."
The offer hung between them, weightier than any tournament challenge. Private mentorship under Celestial Haven's premier fire archmage—a privilege reserved for prodigies.
Kael considered his celestial sigils' affinity for flame constructs. "Flame Tyrant's Hand" and "Ignis Roar" had served him well, their fiery resonance aligning with the Silent One's teachings.
"Your guidance would be invaluable."
Evelyn's smile deepened, though her eyes held professional assessment rather than warmth. "We begin tomorrow. Dawn drills in the Obsidian Crucible."
As they parted ways, Kael noted Finn lurking near a pillar, the wind mage's expression caught between envy and resignation. Celestial Haven's social dynamics shifted once more—the transfer student now orbiting closer to faculty echelons than peer circles.
In Blaze Citadel's strategy halls, Ethan studied tournament records by flickering torchlight. A fresh dossier lay open—Kael's abbreviated history annotated with crimson ink.
"Pyromancy..." The champion traced a gilded fingernail across fiery runes. "How predictable."
Yet his smirk betrayed anticipation. Three months would reveal whether this dark horse could kindle more than petty flames.
As the twin moons rose over Emberflame Academy, two mentors prepared their chosen champions—one through structured drills, the other through calculated provocations. The stage was set; the players aligned. Let the crucible of competition refine them all.