RELIC OF THE NAMELESS KING

4.

Kael’s POV

That evening, after classes, Kael stepped into the practice yard for assigned sparring drills with the other students. The yard was a circle of cracked flagstones and magical wards, humming faintly with protective runes. Students circled it like hawks, waiting their turns.

Kael’s name was called first, followed by Dorian Vale’s. That only meant one thing, they were going to spar each other.

The crowd grew quieter, waiting for the fight to start. He didn’t know why his Instructors and Masters always insisted on him taking part in training drills; it wasn’t like he could win, because everyone already knew who was going to win the spar.

Kael had no chance against one of the best students in their class.

Kael groaned as he stepped into the circle, waiting for his doom. His body still ached, so it was going to happen sooner than expected since he couldn’t hold on for long.

Dorian stepped forward, smug and shining. Garron’s younger brother, though the bloodline didn’t need to be explained. He had the same sharp jaw, the same cruel smile, but magic danced in his hands like it adored him.

Kael bowed stiffly, fists clenched.

Dorian didn’t bother to bow. A flick of his wrist, and flame sparked to life in his palm.

Kael raised his arms, already bracing for impact.

Dorian struck fast, throwing minor spells, not powerful enough to break the academy’s rules, but enough to leave stings, singes, and burns across Kael’s sleeves.

Kael ducked. Rolled. Dodged.

He couldn’t hit back. He didn’t have anything to hit back with. It was as if Dorian was hitting him harder because of what had happened in the woods. It wasn’t his fault they’d all run like scared chickens.

Dorian stepped closer, his voice low and sharp. “What, can’t defend yourself again like yesterday?”

Kael stared straight ahead, jaw tight. “I didn’t ask you to come after me.” He muttered.

Dorian let out a short laugh, full of venom. “Oh, please. Don’t pretend you didn’t plan that. The shadows, the growl, you led us into that trap.” He spat.

Kael blinked, caught off guard. “Trap?” he repeated, disbelieving. “You think I staged that?”

In what world did Dorian think that he had the power to control something as intense as the shadow from last night. It was clear to everyone present, that it was magic, and he didn’t have any.

Dorian had to be a fool if he believed that Kael had staged that.

“You were the only one who didn’t run,” Dorian snapped. “It didn’t come for you. Only us.”

Kael’s voice dropped, brittle as cracked ice. “Because I was… I don’t know, still. I didn’t move. And maybe it didn’t come for me because I’m not a coward.” He insulted.

Dorian’s nostrils flared. “You’re a Weaveless freak. That’s what you are.” He spat.

“You ran. Just like the others.”

Dorian’s expression flickered, just for a second, before hardening again. “Careful, Weaveless. You’re lucky I don’t finish what that thing started.” He said.

Kael’s fists curled at his sides, nails digging into his palms. “Then do it. Burn me, hit me, whatever makes you feel strong.” He taunted.

Dorian’s lips curled into a sneer. “You think this is about strength?” he murmured, stepping even closer. “You’re a flaw in this academy. A poor orphan with no magic. You don’t belong here.”

Kael’s fists curled at his sides, his fingers trembling with the urge to strike back, not with magic, but with words. “At least I don’t blame people for things I’m too scared to face.” He barked.

Then Dorian whispered something too fast for Kael to catch, and a sudden pulse of heat exploded from his palm.

A bolt of fire slammed into Kael’s chest.

The wards were supposed to neutralize magic before impact, but this one didn’t, shocking Kael. It was either someone had destroyed the wards before the fight, or Dorian had used unauthorized magic. He sensed that it was the latter.

Kael was thrown backward into the stone, as gasps rippled through the crowd. The pain in his chest was like nothing he had ever felt before, but his eyes had caught the smirk that disappeared from Dorian’s face.

The air reeked of singed cloth and copper and smoke curled from Kael’s tunic as he tried to rise. He had a feeling that Dorian had done that intentionally and was going to play the victim card as was his way.

Mistress Brennal shoved through the crowd, wand raised. “Enough!” she shouted.

Kael clutched his ribs, forcing himself upright. If Dorian had used magic in a fight with another student, he should be on his way to the disciplinary chambers, facing punishment or expulsion.

“Rule violation,” she snapped. “Excessive force. Explain yourself, Vale.”

Dorian pointed at Kael with that innocent look on his face. “He provoked me. Tried to strike me with a hidden blade. I defended myself.” He said, with a shaky voice.

Kael’s head snapped up. “What? That’s not true!” he shouted, glaring at Dorian. “ I didn’t do anything to him. He’s acting Ms. Brennal, I don’t even have a blade on me.”

“Check him,” Dorian said coolly. “See for yourself.”

Before Kael could react, Mistress Brennal flicked her wand toward Kael, and immediately, his pockets glowed. Then, sickeningly, something clattered to the ground.

A blade.

Not his.

Planted.

Kael froze, his stomach dropping into a pit of cold. What the hell was a blade doing in his coat? He didn’t have one and had never owned anything that looked that expensive before.

Mistress Brennal’s expression darkened. “Possession of a weapon. Assault during training. Attempted sabotage. That’s expulsion, Merren.” She recited like she was charging him with a crime.

“I didn’t…” Kael’s voice cracked. “I didn’t touch it. That’s not mine!”

For the love of the weave, he had no idea how the blade had been on his possession or even how Dorian had planted it, because he was sure that Dorian had a hand in this and wanted to get him in trouble.

“You lie as easily as you breathe,” Dorian said, eyes gleaming.

Mistress Brennal raised her hand. “Enough. The Head council will be informed. But for now…”

She paused, lips curling.

“Let him spend the night in the Ruins. Perhaps solitude will help him reflect on his behavior.” She ordered.

Gasps followed. One student laughed nervously.

Kael’s heart stopped. He obviously had some problems with his hearing, because he didn’t just hear what mistress Brennal had instructed. There was no way she was going to send a student, let alone one without magic, Weaveless, into the forbidden ruins.

There was a reason why the place was forbidden in the first place.

The Forbidden Ruins were part of the academy’s oldest, most broken section, sealed off, cursed, and long-abandoned, ever since the great war that sealed the hollow king.

Even the masters avoided it.

“No,” Lys said suddenly, stepping forward. “That’s… he’s just a student. You can’t send him there. He wouldn’t survive!”

But Mistress Brennal had already turned away. Two wardens approached and seized Kael’s arms as he tried to fight them off.

He looked over his shoulder once, catching Lys’s furious expression.

Then he was dragged through the halls, down crumbling stone stairs, past forgotten wards and dark archways. By the time they had gotten to the forbidden ruins, Kael was already tired of fighting against the wardens.

One of the wardens unlocked the iron door that guarded the forbidden ruins. Beyond it lay cold air, black stone, and the yawning silence of the past. Kael had heard of the place only in books and even when the other students have been brought down there to see a glimpse of the place, Kael had been left aside, because he had no magic running through his veins.

They shoved him inside and the door slammed shut behind him, sealing with a metallic echo that rang in Kael’s ears long after silence swallowed the sound.

“ No! Please come back!” He shouted, but it fell on deaf ears.

He laid motionless in the pitch-black corridor of the Forbidden Ruins. No torches. No wards. No light at all. Only the soft, steady drip… drip… drip of water somewhere beyond, and the quiet thud of his heartbeat rising in his ears.

The ruins were older than the academy. Older than even the oldest records. Whispers said things lived there still, things long since cast out of the light.

He didn’t believe in ghost stories. But right now, with the darkness pressing in… He believed in silence. He believed in being alone. He believed the world hated him.

He curled into himself and closed his eyes.

Then, softly, something stirred in the dark. Not a sound. A feeling. A presence just like the one he had felt in the woods the previous day.

Kael’s eyes snapped open.

The Weave twitched.