The next morning, Kael trudged into the Ancient Magic Theory classroom, still half-asleep. The room smelled faintly of burnt parchment and old cheese—a side effect of Professor Orin's experimental spellwork.
Professor Orin himself was already mid-dramatic monologue, waving a glowing relic overhead like a mad conductor. The object in question was a cracked hourglass filled with black sand, suspended in a cage of floating runes.
"Behold!" Orin declared. "The Sands of Forgotten Time—once used to reverse minor injuries, now corrupted into a tempest of temporal chaos!"
Luna leaned toward Kael, whispering, "He found this in a junk shop last week. He's convinced it's 'powerful.'"
Before anyone could react, the hourglass shattered .
A shockwave of dark energy erupted, freezing half the class in place while others aged ten years in seconds. One girl sprouted a beard overnight. Another turned translucent.
Chaos ensued.
Students screamed. Ink (Kael's sentient quill roommate) flew into the room through the window, squawking, "NOT AGAIN!"
Professor Orin dove under his desk. Luna raised her staff, shouting incantations, but her spells fizzled against the anomaly.
Kael sighed.
He reached out, plucked a single grain of sand from the air, and flicked it.
The entire room snapped back to normal.
Time resumed. Beards vanished. Translucent students solidified. Even the professor's wildly overgrown eyebrows returned to their original length.
Silence fell.
"…That was intense," Luna muttered, lowering her staff.
"Indeed!" Orin popped up from behind his desk. "Who stabilized the timeline?!"
Eyes swept the room.
Everyone glanced at Luna.
Some pointed at a boy who had been chanting before the explosion.
One kid even blamed the ceiling.
No one looked at Kael.
He was halfway through a yawn.
Later, during lunch in the Grand Hall , rumors spread like wildfire.
"Did you see that?" a student whispered. "It was like reality itself corrected itself!"
"Probably a failsafe rune in the classroom," someone else guessed.
"Or maybe Professor Orin secretly saved us?"
At the table nearby, Luna poked at her soup, frowning.
"You know, I'm starting to think…" she trailed off, staring at Kael.
"Think what?" Kael asked, chewing a sandwich.
She narrowed her eyes. "Never mind."
Across the hall, Riven Blackthorn slammed his fist on the table, shouting, "WHO SAVED US IN THAT CLASS? I DEMAND TO KNOW WHO STOPPED THE TIME DISASTER!"
Students flinched. A few fled.
"It wasn't you, was it?" Luna asked Kael.
He blinked innocently. "Me? No. I didn't do anything."
"Exactly," Luna muttered. "You always say that. And somehow, everything works out when you're around."
Kael shrugged. "Coincidence."
After class, Riven intercepted Kael outside the dormitory.
"Hey, Lysander!" Riven snapped. "You were in Ancient Magic today, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then how come YOU weren't affected by the curse?"
Kael blinked. "I dunno. Lucky?"
Riven scowled. "You've got something to hide, don't you?"
"Nope."
"Fight me."
"Why?"
"To prove you're not weak!"
"But I am weak."
"STOP BEING MODEST AND FIGHT ME!"
Kael sighed again. This guy never gave up.
They moved to the training grounds. A crowd gathered—Luna, Ink (who fluttered above Kael's shoulder), and several curious upperclassmen.
Riven summoned a flaming longsword made of pure fire magic. Sparks danced in his eyes.
"Ready to lose?"
Kael held up his hands. "I don't want to fight."
"TOO LATE!"
Riven lunged.
Fire blazed.
Kael sidestepped.
The moment Riven's blade touched Kael's cloak, it vanished .
Poof. Gone.
"WHAT?!" Riven gaped. "WAS THAT NULLIFICATION MAGIC?!"
"No," Kael said calmly. "I just don't like fire."
Riven tried again—this time conjuring a phoenix-shaped flame. It soared toward Kael, roaring.
Kael clapped once.
The phoenix exploded into harmless embers.
The crowd gasped.
"HOW?!" Riven yelled.
"Maybe wind magic?" someone suggested.
"But he didn't chant!" Luna argued.
Kael turned to walk away. "Don't take it personally. You're strong."
"DON'T PATRONIZE ME!" Riven roared.
That night, Kael sat on the roof again, watching stars blink into existence.
Ink fluttered beside him.
"You know," Ink muttered, "you're really bad at hiding your power."
"I'm doing fine," Kael replied.
"No, you're not. People are noticing."
"Not really."
"Luna's suspicious. Riven's obsessed. Even the professor knows something's off."
Kael stared at his palm. The same tiny motes of light danced there—unmeasurable, invisible to detection spells, yet capable of rewriting reality itself.
"I'll figure something out," he said quietly.
"Sure you will," Ink grumbled. "Just don't let the ceiling eat your shoes tonight."
Below them, somewhere in the forest, the demon chicken crowed ominously.
Again, they ignored it.