In the vast corridors of the Imperial Crest Academy, Kael Ryuu moved like a ghost.
He didn't laugh with the others in the mess hall. He didn't linger after lectures. To most students, he was an anomaly—brilliant, focused, and entirely uninterested in the games that defined academy life.
But to Kael, the world of people was a distant blur. He existed in two realms: the Arx Memoria, where his mind drank in ancient knowledge like a parched wanderer, and the training gym, where he honed body and blade alongside Riven.
Riven, a second-year and a physical powerhouse, was everything Kael was not—loud, social, confident. But he struggled in the academic arts, particularly runes. Their friendship was an unlikely one. Built not on words, but on repetition. Sweat. Focus.
Until one day, Kael said something different.
> "Riven. Come to the library tomorrow. You train your body… but the mind should come first."
Riven scoffed, but there was curiosity in his eyes.
> "I'll come. But don't expect me to love it."
---
In Rune and Enchantment class, Master Illovar drew sigils across the air with elegance. Kael followed every line, every concept, with eerie precision. He never spoke. Until provoked.
> "Hey Kael," Soren, a smug second-year, sneered. "Let's see what a Crestless can do."
He etched a poorly structured rune onto the board and stepped back.
Kael stood. Silent. Chalk in hand.
A few strokes later, the rune glowed softly, vibrating with a refined current of mana.
Illovar narrowed his eyes. "Kael. Explain."
Kael's voice was low but certain.
> "You can't force flow. The design needs balance. Rounded pressure points. Symmetry in arcs. Soren's was more an explosion than a spell."
Illovar smiled faintly.
> "I'll be keeping an eye on you, Kael Ryuu."
---
That night, Riven appeared at the Arx Memoria, arms crossed.
> "You sure about this?"
Kael nodded. "Magic isn't about being gifted. It's about understanding."
They sat.
Kael taught.
And for the first time, Riven listened.