The village school stood near the river, its stone and mud-brick walls already glowing beneath the morning sun. Students streamed through the entrance while colorful banners fluttered overhead.
Inside the classroom of the older kids, nearly twenty students filled the wooden benches.
Caroline and Rommel sat together near the center.
Lorenzo was already somehow annoying three different people at once.
Zyon dropped into his seat near the back.
Master Frederick Hound moved to the front of the room and folded his arms across his chest. Years beneath the desert sun had weathered his face, while streaks of gray ran through his short hair and beard.
Though well past his adventuring days, he still carried himself like a hunter, and the sharp look in his eyes made it difficult to hide anything for long.
The morning passed quickly through lessons on history about the Great Shift and the Continental War, mathematics, science, and the changing state of the world.
By the time Master Hound stepped forward for the final lesson, every student immediately paid attention.
"Listen up," Hound said, crossing his arms. "Who's willing to tell me the difference between a Level 1 Ethereal and a Level 3 Ethereal?"
Several hands shot up.
A discussion between students quickly followed.
"It depends on how much Ether-energy they consume, right?"
"And the element and mutation, what came first? I don't remember."
Master Hound ended the discussion by raising his hand and allowed Caroline to speak, as she was one of the kids who raised her hand and waited.
"Any animal can become an Ethereal if it consumes enough Ether-energy. A Level 1 Ethereal is little more than an annoying pest. A Level 3 or higher? That's when villages call hunters or guilds for help. The gap between levels can be huge depending on their element or mutations."
Hound continued, pacing slowly.
"That is correct. That's why our hunters track them down early," he said. "Leave them alone long enough, and they become a problem."
Hound pointed toward the window.
"Yesterday's hunt brought back a Level 3 Razor-Lizard. Big difference from the pests you'll find near the river."
The conversation shifted naturally toward Ether-cores, equipment, and hunting.
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"Sir."
A recently promoted student raised his hand.
"I know this lesson is about Ethereals, but there is something else I would like to know.
Why does everyone hate light users?"
The room went quiet.
Hound stopped pacing and looked across the classroom for a few moments before answering.
"Because people only see what's obvious."
Several students exchanged glances.
"They see fire," Hound said, raising a finger. A small light flickered above it. "They see destruction."
The flame vanished.
"They see strength powers lifting boulders, ice powers freezing rivers, and shadow users swallowing entire battlefields."
Nobody argued.
Hound folded his arms. "And then they see someone using light to make a flashlight."
A few students laughed.
Even Lorenzo.
The smile quickly faded from Hound's face.
"Some people merely look down on light users. Others hate us."
The room grew a little quieter.
Nobody moved.
"They call us weak. Useless. A waste of a blessing."
His gaze drifted toward the window.
"And in some places, people have been beaten, imprisoned, or even executed for things others would walk away from with a warning."
Several students lowered their eyes.
Most of them had heard stories from their parents.
A few had lived them.
Hound was quiet for a moment.
Then he said,
"When the Hammer falls and Dawn rises, the Light that burns brightest shall cast away the darkest Shadow."
A few students looked confused.
Others rolled their eyes.
Lorenzo raised a hand. "That's the prophecy, right?"
Hound nodded. "One version of it."
The room grew quiet again.
"The Nocturn Empire has used that line for generations. When rulers need an enemy, old prophecies become convenient."
His gaze swept across the classroom.
"Some fear it. Some pray for it. Nobody even knows what it really means."
He folded his arms.
"Old stories won't change anything. What matters is protecting what we've built here and protecting each other."
At that moment, Sisy Nila walked past the open doorway carrying several books. A small group of younger children followed behind her, chatting excitedly while she listened with a patient smile.
Hound nodded toward the hallway. Nice timing, he thought to himself. 'I can use this to lighten the mood.'
"Take Sisy for example," he then spoke.
The class looked toward the doorway.
"Most light users can create illumination, flashes, and simple constructs. Useful abilities, but nothing impressive in the eyes of most people."
Sisy disappeared around the corner.
"Yet Sisy's light can heal wounds."
The students immediately became more attentive.
"Not ease pain. Not numb injuries. Actually heal."
A few eyebrows shot up.
"And despite that, there are still fools who call light a worthless power."
"Well, I don't agree," Hound said with a raised fist.
Several students chuckled.
"They see a lantern and assume that's all there is." Hound's gaze swept across the room. "They never bother looking deeper."
For a brief moment, his eyes settled on Zyon.
"The strongest abilities aren't always the loudest. Never forget that."
Then Hound turned back toward the blackboard. But after looking at Zyon, he could clearly see that the boy was bothered by something. He would let it go, knowing this isn't like Zyon at all, and would ask about it later.
"Now then, where were we?"
A bell rang, signaling break time.
After the break, combat training followed immediately after.
Wooden practice weapons filled one side of the training yard while students paired off across the sand.
Normally, this was the lesson Zyon looked forward to most.
Sweat. Movement. Impact. Improvement.
These were things he enjoyed.
Wood clashed against wood as students exchanged strikes under the watchful eye of the village's top hunter, Master Victor.
Yet even as Zyon moved through his drills, the image of those two black figures lingered in the back of his mind.
And with every passing hour, that quiet sense of unease only grew stronger.