The Sanctum Academy shimmered beneath the mid-morning sun, its marble towers reaching toward the sky as if defying the darkness that threatened to consume the world outside. Birds flitted between turrets, but the serenity of the scene was deceptive. Inside, beneath the arcane warded walls, unrest brewed.
Kaien Voss stood alone at the edge of the courtyard's training ring, breathing heavily, arms trembling. His left palm still glowed faintly from the disintegration he'd unintentionally triggered moments earlier. The training dummy in front of him had turned to dust—far more than he intended. Far more than he controlled.
"Again," Kaien muttered, clenching his fist.
"Maybe you should take a breath first."
He turned to see Eira approaching, her long silvery hair tied into a single braid today. Her gentle demeanor hadn't changed, but there was a deeper concern in her violet eyes than usual.
"I'm fine," Kaien said too quickly.
"You're not. Your Veyl is unstable. You've been pushing too hard."
Kaien gritted his teeth. He wanted to argue, but she wasn't wrong. Each time he tried to control the Null Veyl—the name the instructors now whispered behind closed doors—something within him recoiled or surged unpredictably.
He sank onto a bench beside the ring. Eira sat next to him, not speaking at first. The silence, as always with her, wasn't awkward. It was grounding.
"The others are starting to talk," she said eventually. "Not just students. Instructors. There's fear."
Kaien looked down at his hands. "They should be scared. I can't even promise I won't hurt someone. This thing inside me... it's not normal."
"Neither are you, Kaien. But that's not a bad thing."
Before he could respond, the training bell tolled in the distance. Eira stood and offered her hand. "Come on. The headmasters have summoned you. They want a... demonstration."
The Hall of Judgment wasn't used often. Located beneath the Sanctum Tower, the domed chamber echoed with history and tension. Carved murals lined the walls, depicting Veylbound legends—heroes and tragedies alike.
Kaien stood in the center, surrounded by robed instructors, Sanctum leaders, and senior students. Master Rhain was there, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Beside him stood Headmaster Ceyla Vire, draped in white and violet, her Tide Aspect flowing around her like mist.
"Kaien Voss," she said, voice ringing. "You've been asked here today to confront the truth of your power, and help us understand its place within the Sanctum."
He didn't respond. His fists clenched involuntarily.
A side door opened, and Zedd strode in, grinning. "You really roped me into this circus, huh?"
"Zedd will be your sparring opponent," Ceyla continued. "Your task: defend, suppress, and if necessary, subdue. Do not disintegrate."
A chuckle rippled through the onlookers. Kaien's ears burned.
Zedd cracked his neck. "Just try not to erase me, alright, Dustboy?"
The duel began with a flash of wind. Zedd lunged, Gale whipping around his fists as he struck. Kaien ducked, slid beneath the blow, and responded with a punch—nothing enhanced, no Null Veyl, just raw muscle.
Zedd grinned. "Playing safe? Come on, I know what you can really do."
He summoned a vortex, spinning Kaien off balance. As Kaien tumbled, instinct flared. The glow ignited from his palm. He caught himself before touching the floor, but not before a scorch mark etched itself into the stone.
Murmurs rippled.
Kaien gritted his teeth and rose. "Again."
The fight escalated. Kaien's senses sharpened. Zedd pressed hard, keeping him moving. Kaien deflected, evaded, restrained his power.
But then—Zedd pushed too far.
A knee to Kaien's ribs knocked the wind from him. He retaliated with a desperate palm strike. His hand glowed—bright, white.
Zedd's eyes widened as Kaien's palm made contact.
"KA—!"
But it didn't disintegrate him. The wind around Zedd flickered and popped—but his body held firm. The effect shimmered like static.
Kaien recoiled, staggered back.
Zedd blinked, chest rising. "That felt like... being unmade. But only for a second."
The headmasters leaned forward, taking notes. Master Rhain's expression darkened.
"Your control is improving," Ceyla observed. "But the nature of your Veyl... remains inconsistent."
Kaien looked down at his shaking hand. "It's not just power. It's hunger. It wants to erase things."
"Then learn to feed it less," Rhain growled. "Or it'll consume you."
Later that night, Kaien stood on the balcony of the dorm tower, overlooking the Sanctum. The moon cast a pale glow across the rooftops. Below, students trained, laughed, walked. Normal lives.
"You looked like you were trying not to break," came Lyra's voice.
Kaien didn't turn. "Trying is all I've got."
She stood beside him, arms crossed. "They're afraid of you. I don't blame them. But fear isn't always weakness. It's a test."
He glanced at her. "A test of what?"
"Of whether you'll prove their fear wrong—or right."
Kaien frowned. "I don't know if I can control it. Sometimes I feel like I'm not even the one using it. Like... it chooses when to work."
Lyra hesitated. "When you used it today, did it feel different?"
He nodded. "It was... less like a flood. More like a thread I barely grasped."
She looked away. "I think I understand."
There was silence again. Then Kaien asked, "Why do you hide behind Shade?"
She tensed. "That's not your question to ask."
"Then tell me what is."
Her voice lowered. "Ask why I'm still here, after everything. Ask why I haven't fled like the others who fear your Null Veyl."
He waited.
She looked at him, eyes glinting. "Because I've seen worse. And because you haven't given up."
That same night, deep beneath the Sanctum, where light did not reach, Veylor Saine walked among silence.
The Dissonant Choir's chamber was carved from obsidian. Etchings of the Hollow Veyl lined the walls—depictions of the Veilfracture and the hero-turned-destroyer of ages past.
"Kaien Voss," Veylor murmured, reading the name from a glowing sigil. "He grows."
A hooded cultist approached. "Shall we accelerate our plan?"
Veylor turned, revealing his half-veiled face. The Shade Aspect shimmered in his eyes. "Not yet. We let the Sanctum fracture from within. The more they fear him, the closer he comes to becoming what they dread."
He stepped forward, reaching toward a sealed relic—a black crystal humming with corruption.
"When the boy breaks," Veylor said softly, "the Hollow Veyl will answer."
Back in his room, Kaien couldn't sleep. He sat at his desk, staring at a worn sketch from his village days—him and his friend Renna, smiling with arms slung around each other.
She'd died during the Wretch attack.
He hadn't been able to save her.
A knock interrupted his thoughts. He opened the door to find Eira holding a book.
"I found something. Ancient Veyl scripture. It speaks of a force that doesn't align with the five Aspects. A 'Sixth Echo.'"
Kaien's breath caught.
She handed him the book. "I think your power... isn't an accident. It's something forgotten. Or hidden."
Kaien stared at the faded cover. The symbol etched on it pulsed faintly in his palm—the same shape that burned into the stone when he first awoke the Null Veyl.
"Then we're going to find the truth," he said. "Even if the Sanctum doesn't want us to."
Eira smiled faintly. "Then we begin tomorrow."
Outside, thunder rolled. The storm was coming.
And in the shadow of legends, Kaien Voss took his first step into the unknown path of his legacy.