The storm finally ended.
For the first time in weeks, clear blue skies stretched above Astryx Academy.
Morning sunlight illuminated the ancient towers, turning their silver-white stone into shimmering pillars of gold.
Students filled the pathways once again, their conversations carrying across the campus as a new semester officially began.
To most of them, it was simply another academic year.
New classes.
New teachers.
New opportunities.
To Aren, it felt like the beginning of something much larger.
The discoveries from the previous semester still haunted him.
The hidden archive.
The disappearing records.
The First Keeper.
The Three Seals.
The Throne.
The mysterious memories.
And the terrifying realization that his name appeared throughout history.
Or rather—
Had appeared.
Before someone erased it.
Every answer seemed to reveal another layer of mystery.
Yet one thing had become clear.
Whatever was happening was accelerating.
And the new semester had arrived at exactly the wrong time.
Or perhaps the right one.
The academy grounds buzzed with excitement.
First-year students who had once looked nervous now walked confidently between classes.
New students arrived through the main gates.
Merchants set up temporary stalls near the academy plaza.
The atmosphere felt almost festive.
Aren stood near one of the gardens overlooking the central courtyard.
For a brief moment, he simply enjoyed the view.
The normalcy.
The ordinary academy life.
It felt strangely distant lately.
“Thinking again?”
A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
Mira.
She stood beside him holding several books.
Naturally.
Aren was beginning to suspect she carried books even while sleeping.
“Good morning.”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
Aren laughed softly.
“It usually isn’t.”
Mira rolled her eyes.
Some things never changed.
Which, honestly, was comforting.
The semester opening ceremony took place in the Grand Assembly Hall.
Thousands of students gathered beneath the enormous crystal dome.
Professors stood along elevated platforms overlooking the crowd.
Academy banners floated magically above the audience.
Everything appeared normal.
Yet Aren noticed something unusual.
Additional professors had arrived.
Powerful professors.
Individuals he had never seen before.
Many wore silver robes embroidered with unfamiliar symbols.
Several stood near the academy headmaster.
Their expressions remained serious.
Almost concerned.
Aren didn’t like that.
Whenever important people looked worried, trouble usually followed.
His recent experiences had taught him that much.
The ceremony began.
The academy headmaster delivered the usual speech.
Hard work.
Dedication.
Academic excellence.
The importance of magical responsibility.
Most students listened politely.
Others struggled to remain awake.
Everything proceeded exactly as expected.
Then the headmaster mentioned something unexpected.
“This semester, Astryx Academy welcomes a special academic initiative.”
Murmurs spread through the hall.
The headmaster raised a hand.
Silence returned.
“Several outstanding students have been selected for advanced mentorship programs.”
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Aren immediately became suspicious.
His instincts had grown remarkably reliable lately.
Whenever important announcements occurred, they somehow involved him.
Unfortunately, this situation proved no exception.
Several names appeared above the assembly hall in glowing letters.
Students cheered as each selected participant was announced.
Most belonged to noble families.
Others were academy prodigies.
Then Aren saw his own name.
His stomach dropped.
The hall erupted into whispers.
Always again.
“Aren?”
“Of course it’s him.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
Aren resisted the urge to hide beneath his seat.
Mira looked entirely unsurprised.
“You expected this.”
It wasn’t a question.
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
Aren sighed.
Maybe a little.
Following the ceremony, selected students received official invitations.
The mentorship program would begin immediately.
Participants were instructed to report to a designated meeting location after lunch.
Naturally, curiosity spread throughout the academy.
Many students wondered what the program involved.
Aren wondered too.
The invitation contained very little information.
Only a location.
A time.
And a single phrase.
Special Research Division
The wording felt suspicious.
Very suspicious.
Which meant he would definitely attend.
Possibly a terrible decision.
But at this point, Aren’s life seemed built upon terrible decisions.
After lunch, he followed the directions toward the northern section of the campus.
Unlike most academy buildings, this area remained relatively isolated.
Few students visited.
Ancient stone pathways wound through towering trees.
The atmosphere felt quieter.
Older.
Almost hidden.
Several other selected students arrived simultaneously.
Most appeared confused.
A few looked excited.
One or two seemed nervous.
Aren understood that feeling.
Then the doors opened.
The building’s interior resembled a library more than a classroom.
Bookshelves lined the walls.
Ancient maps covered several tables.
Magical instruments floated throughout the room.
At the center stood Professor Selene.
For a brief moment, Aren felt relieved.
Then he noticed someone else.
A man standing beside her.
Tall.
Dark-haired.
Perhaps in his late twenties.
Simple black academy robes concealed most identifying details.
Yet something about him immediately drew attention.
Not because of his appearance.
Because of his eyes.
They seemed unusually observant.
As though constantly analyzing everything around him.
The moment Aren entered, those eyes settled upon him.
The sensation felt uncomfortable.
Almost familiar.
Like being studied.
Professor Selene stepped forward.
“Welcome.”
The selected students gathered inside.
Once everyone arrived, the doors closed.
The professor’s expression remained serious.
“Most of you believe this is a mentorship program.”
Several students nodded.
“It isn’t.”
Silence followed.
Aren immediately knew things were about to become complicated.
Professor Selene continued.
“This division exists for a specific purpose.”
She gestured toward the dark-haired man.
Several students looked toward him.
The stranger offered a polite smile.
“My name is Rowan.”
The room remained quiet.
The name seemed ordinary.
Yet the moment Aren heard it, something felt strange.
Not familiar exactly.
Just significant.
Like a missing piece shifting somewhere beyond sight.
Rowan stepped forward.
Unlike many professors, he spoke calmly.
Almost conversationally.
“History is filled with mysteries.”
Several floating maps appeared around the room.
Ancient ruins.
Forgotten cities.
Lost civilizations.
“The academy studies many of them.”
Aren immediately recognized some locations.
Several appeared within documents from the hidden archives.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Rowan continued.
“Unfortunately, some mysteries have begun changing.”
Aren’s pulse quickened.
The wording felt deliberate.
As though Rowan knew more than he should.
The man glanced around the room.
Then his gaze settled briefly on Aren.
Only for a second.
Yet the meaning felt clear.
The statement wasn’t directed at everyone.
It was directed at him.
The remainder of the meeting focused on research assignments.
Students would investigate unusual historical anomalies.
Lost records.
Contradictory timelines.
Missing events.
Most participants seemed excited.
Aren felt increasingly suspicious.
Because every topic sounded remarkably similar to his ongoing investigation.
Too similar.
Far too similar.
By the end of the session, he had reached a conclusion.
This wasn’t coincidence.
Someone had created this division for a reason.
And somehow, that reason involved him.
As the meeting ended, students gradually left.
Aren remained behind.
Partly out of curiosity.
Partly because Rowan continued watching him.
The moment the room emptied, Rowan approached.
His expression remained friendly.
Yet his eyes seemed far too observant.
“You’ve had an interesting year.”
Aren froze.
Not visibly.
Hopefully.
Yet internally, alarms began ringing immediately.
The statement sounded innocent.
It wasn’t.
Not after everything that had happened.
Rowan smiled slightly.
“Professor Selene speaks highly of you.”
That surprised Aren.
Professor Selene wasn’t exactly known for handing out compliments.
Rowan continued.
“You ask the right questions.”
Aren wasn’t sure whether that was praise or a warning.
Possibly both.
Before he could respond, Rowan handed him a small sealed envelope.
“No rush.”
Aren accepted it cautiously.
“What is it?”
“Something you should read.”
Helpful.
Very helpful.
Rowan’s smile widened slightly.
Then he walked away.
Just like that.
Leaving Aren alone with a growing sense of unease.
Later that evening, Aren sat beside the dormitory window.
The envelope rested on his desk.
Moonlight illuminated the room.
For several minutes, he simply stared at it.
Then curiosity won.
Again.
Carefully, he broke the seal.
A single page waited inside.
The message contained only one sentence.
Short.
Simple.
Terrifying.
If you want answers about the erased name, meet me at the Old Observatory tomorrow night.
Aren stared.
Then read the sentence again.
And again.
Because Rowan should not know about the erased name.
Almost nobody knew.
Not even most professors.
Yet somehow, Rowan did.
The implications were enormous.
And deeply concerning.
Outside, the academy grounds remained peaceful.
Students laughed.
Lanterns drifted through the night air.
Everything appeared normal.
Yet Aren already knew.
The new semester wasn’t bringing peace.
It was bringing Rowan.
And something told him that meeting Rowan would change everything.