I. Kai – The Feeling in the Walls
It started with small things.
A door that creaked when no one passed through.
The bell in the chapel tower swinging when the wind was still.
Dust unsettled in straight lines, like someone had walked a path no one else could see.
Kai noticed.
Of course he did.
He noticed everything.
"Does something feel… off to you?" he asked quietly one morning, leaning against the cracked frame of the dining hall window.
Lina didn't look up from her plate.
"You mean besides the cultists, haunted mirrors, and the fact that you're dreaming in ancient glyphs?"
"Yeah. Besides that."
She frowned.
"Now that you mention it… Aren said he saw someone near the chapel tower last night."
"A figure."
"Didn't move when he called out. Didn't run. Just watched him… then disappeared."
Kai nodded once.
"I think someone's here."
That night, Kai stayed awake.
The shard was cold.
Not dead—watching.
He lay still, listening.
And just after midnight, he heard it.
A breath.
Not his.
Not Lina's or Aren's.
Below.
In the storage cellar.
He crept down the old steps with a candle in hand, the shard clutched in his palm.
The cellar was empty.
Still.
Until he turned toward the far shelf and saw the faint spiral drawn in the dust.
Fresh.
Finger-traced.
Watching him.
He wiped it away.
Didn't speak.
Didn't run.
But deep in his chest, he felt something stir.
"They're close," he whispered.
"And they know who I am."
II. Academy of Echoes – The Ripple Detected
In the mountain that watched over the valley, the Academy of Echoes stood carved into white stone—its spires humming with layered enchantments, its halls glowing with runes that remembered more than any mortal could.
At its core, in a chamber of polished obsidian, a wall of ancient glyphs pulsed in reaction for the first time in twelve years.
A spiral.
Seven rings.
And a name forming letter by letter across the top:
Kalai.
Dean Marros stood in silence as the glyph finalized its shimmer.
His robes were midnight blue, marked by a golden sash that bore the sigil of Echo's Eye. His beard was streaked with silver, but his eyes were sharp with memory.
"He's remembering," Marros said.
The archivist beside him whispered, "Already?"
"We expected another year at least."
"The anchor sites—"
"Something triggered them."
Marros stepped forward.
Placed his hand on the spiral glyph.
"Activate a student watch list."
"Pull every file tied to the Erina region."
"If Kalai is awake…"
He paused.
"…we are already too late."
III. Instructor Sera – The Quiet War Begins
Elsewhere in the Academy, a woman stood on a high balcony overlooking the fractured peaks.
Instructor Sera.
Young by Academy standards, but old enough to have seen what Kalai had once done—if not in body, then in memory.
Her raven hair was tied back tight. Her robes were plain. But her eyes burned with quiet calculation.
She whispered to no one in particular:
"If the boy is remembering…"
"…he's going to need allies before the factions find him."
She turned, walking back inside.
And locked the door behind her.
IV. Kai – The Visitor Who Wasn't a Stranger
The next day, a new visitor came to the orphanage.
He introduced himself as a relic inspector from the Lowridge Circle, doing a survey on residual post-divine energy around old churches.
Sister Olma accepted the visit politely, but Kai saw the stiffness in her posture.
And the way her hand never drifted far from the old staff she rarely used.
Kai watched the man closely.
He had too-clean boots for someone who'd walked the ridge.
His questions were soft, casual.
But his eyes lingered too long on Kai.
And when he left, Kai followed him at a distance.
He saw it happen near the edge of the orchard.
The man paused.
Tilted his head.
And muttered under his breath:
"The spiral's almost complete."
Then he vanished.
Literally.
One step—and the space he occupied was empty.
No sound.
No ripple.
Just gone.
Kai stared at the place the man had stood.
His shard hummed softly.
And the spiral mark on his wrist itched beneath the skin.
V. The Message from the Academy
That night, while Kai tried to sleep, Sister Olma came into the boys' quarters and quietly placed something on the desk beside his bed.
A sealed letter.
Stiff parchment. Gold thread.
The Academy's insignia—Echo's Spiral.
He stared at it.
Didn't open it.
Not yet.
He didn't need to.
He already knew what it would say.