The fallen God

Morning light streamed through the tall windows of the academy's dining hall, illuminating long wooden tables where students gathered for breakfast. The scent of fresh bread and sizzling eggs filled the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation. Evolis trudged in, still rubbing the sleep from his golden eyes. Despite the excitement of yesterday's duel, he hadn't slept well—his dreams had been filled with half-formed images of swirling lights and distant voices he couldn't quite place.

As he scanned the room, he spotted Lyris sitting at their usual table, chatting with a few acquaintances. Even from across the hall, she stood out like a rare gemstone: her shimmering silver hair was neatly braided over one shoulder, and the morning sun caught the amethyst hue of her eyes, giving her an almost ethereal glow. Anyone looking at her would assume she was some highborn noble—which, in fact, she was: a daughter of Duke Altheon, the very man whose household had taken Evolis in when he was just a baby.

Evolis slid into the seat next to her with a casual grin. "Morning," he said through a half-yawn. "Please tell me we're not doing anything crazy first thing today."

Lyris arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Define 'crazy.' If you mean 'Are we sparring again at dawn?' then no, you're safe—at least until Master Gaius tracks you down. He mentioned wanting to see you."

"Gaius wants to see me?" Evolis frowned. "Why? Don't tell me he heard about the duel yesterday and wants to lecture me about discipline or something."

A smirk tugged at Lyris's lips. "Well, you know him. He's been fussing over you for years. If he didn't see you scuffling with Karam, someone else definitely told him."

Evolis groaned, propping his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his palm. "Great. That's exactly what I need—another lecture from the old man."

A giggle escaped Lyris as she leaned closer, the sweet fragrance of lavender drifting from her. "He's not that old, and you know he means well. Besides, if it wasn't for Master Gaius and my parents, who knows where you'd be right now?"

Evolis feigned a dramatic sigh. "I'd probably be living the life of a travelling bard, charming maidens in every village, collecting free meals—"

"—and likely getting chased out by pitchfork-wielding peasants," Lyris finished with a grin. "But hey, maybe that's your calling."

Their banter drew a few amused glances from nearby students. Ever since they were children, Evolis and Lyris had shared a natural rhythm in their conversations—a mix of friendly teasing and genuine closeness that made them the subject of more than a few academy rumours. Some students insisted they had to be betrothed, others said they were just best friends. The truth was simpler and more complicated at the same time: they had been raised together, but their bond was neither fully understood nor defined. They just were.

Lyris's family had found Evolis as an infant, swaddled in a ragged blanket on their doorstep in the dead of night. Something about the child—his oddly intense gaze even then—had stirred the Duke's usually guarded heart. Though it was unorthodox for a noble household to adopt a random baby, Lyris's parents had done just that, bringing Evolis into their home and raising him alongside their daughter. Over the years, Master Gaius, a trusted steward and scholar in the Duke's service, had taken a special interest in Evolis's upbringing. He taught the boy everything from basic etiquette to the fundamentals of combat, guiding him as if he were his own grandson.

But while Lyris had grown up with the certainty of her lineage, Evolis had always felt like an outsider looking in—despite everyone's kindness, he knew he wasn't a true Altheon. His background was a mystery, and sometimes, that mystery tugged at him in ways he couldn't explain.

With breakfast finished, the pair made their way to Master Gaius's study. It was a small, cluttered room in one of the academy's side wings, crammed with scrolls, dusty tomes, and enough antique relics to furnish a museum. Master Gaius himself was a wiry man in his late fifties, sporting a neatly trimmed beard shot through with silver streaks. He wore a simple scholar's robe, but the glint in his eyes suggested a past filled with more than just books.

"You're late," Gaius said without looking up from the parchment he was reading. His voice was mild, yet carried an unmistakable note of authority.

Evolis scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry, Master. I overslept a bit."

"Mm-hmm," the old scholar murmured. He finished jotting something down, then set his quill aside. "Lyris, dear, thank you for bringing him. I'll speak with Evolis alone for a moment."

Lyris nodded, casting Evolis a brief, encouraging smile. "Don't let him intimidate you," she teased, before slipping out of the room and closing the door behind her.

Gaius waited until her footsteps receded, then gestured for Evolis to sit. "Word of your duel with that Karam boy has already reached me," he began. "Though I gather you came out on top, it concerns me that you so readily engaged in a public fight."

Evolis rolled his eyes a little—he couldn't help it. "He challenged me. Was I supposed to just let him insult me?"

A faint smile curved Gaius's lips. "You're sixteen, and your blood runs hot. I remember what that was like. But you have to understand that while Lyris's parents have graciously allowed you to train here, not everyone sees you as one of their own. The last thing you need is to give your critics ammunition."

Evolis folded his arms. "I'm not trying to cause trouble, Master. It's just… I can't stand idiots like Karam who think they can walk all over me. I know I'm different. Everyone does. But I'm not going to back down when someone tries to mock me."

Gaius sighed, his gaze softening. "You're right, you shouldn't. However, keep in mind that skill is only part of what makes a true warrior. Discipline, control, and a level head matter just as much."

He paused, studying Evolis with a thoughtful expression. "Your talent is undeniable, but there's something else about you—something even I can't fully explain. Sometimes, I sense an undercurrent of power, as though you were born to walk a path beyond the ordinary. But until you're ready, until you've mastered the fundamentals, that potential will remain locked away. Don't be in such a hurry to prove yourself."

Evolis's cheeks warmed, and he shifted in his chair. He felt simultaneously annoyed at being lectured and oddly reassured by Gaius's quiet confidence in him. "I'm not in a rush to be some grand hero, if that's what you're implying," he muttered. "I just… I want to get stronger. And not just physically—there's this weird feeling that I'm missing something important. I don't know how else to describe it."

A knowing gleam sparked in the old scholar's eyes. "Then train. Study. And keep your wits about you. If there's something you're meant to discover, trust me, it'll find you soon enough."

With that, Gaius dismissed him. The lecture was far gentler than Evolis had expected, leaving him more pensive than chastised. Outside, Lyris was waiting in the corridor, leaning against a marble pillar. Her silver hair shimmered in the daylight, and her regal bearing made it clear she was every bit the ducal daughter.

"Survive?" she teased, folding her arms as he approached.

"Barely," Evolis joked back. "Though I think I prefer that to the usual tongue-lashing. Gaius was… well, he was actually pretty calm."

"See? He's not all doom and gloom." Lyris fell into step beside him as they headed toward the academy's central courtyard. Students milled about, discussing classes, gossiping about the next big tournament, or just lazing in the sunshine.

Evolis caught sight of Karam skulking in a corner, sporting a bandage around his forearm—likely from where Evolis's counterattack had disarmed him. Their eyes met for a brief instant, and the bully's face twisted into a resentful glare. Evolis simply smirked, feeling a rush of satisfaction. He wasn't usually one to revel in someone else's defeat, but Karam's arrogance had rubbed him the wrong way for months.

Lyris noticed the silent exchange and nudged Evolis's side. "Don't go picking another fight. You already made your point."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. "I'm done for now."

They wandered past the courtyard and onto a terrace overlooking the academy gardens. The area was more secluded, with vibrant flowers and manicured hedges offering a peaceful respite from the bustling campus. Lyris guided Evolis to a stone bench beneath a blooming magnolia tree, where they often met to talk in private.

"So," she began, "Gaius told you to take it easy?"

Evolis shrugged. "More or less. He said something about not rushing to prove myself, that if I keep training, I'll eventually figure out what's missing. I guess that's his way of saying I need patience."

She tucked a stray strand of silver hair behind her ear. "Patience is good. We both have a long way to go. And it's not like we're facing real danger here—this is just an academy. Our biggest worry is passing the next test or dealing with a jerk like Karam."

A distant look flickered across Evolis's face. "Yeah, I know. It's just… that duel yesterday felt different. When I fought Karam, for a split second, I saw something—like a flash of light or memory. I don't really remember the details, but it felt huge."

He tried to keep his tone casual, but Lyris caught the slight tremor in his voice. She studied him for a moment, her amethyst eyes brimming with concern. "You sure you're okay?"

He forced a grin. "Don't worry, I'm not about to keel over. It's probably just nerves or adrenaline messing with my head."

Lyris nodded slowly. "Well, if anything else like that happens, you'd tell me, right?"

There was a note of vulnerability in her question that Evolis couldn't ignore. He recalled the day her parents had found him—a baby left on the Altheon family doorstep—and how, from that day forward, she'd treated him like a brother, a friend, and sometimes something more. He hated the idea of shutting her out, but some instinct told him to keep the swirling fragments of his dreams and illusions to himself for now.

"Sure," he lied with a gentle smile, "I'll let you know."

They sat together in companionable silence for a while, watching the wind stir petals from the magnolia tree into the air. Occasionally, a pair of students would pass by, whispering and throwing curious glances at them—Evolis and Lyris were, after all, the talk of the academy. The orphan boy with golden eyes and the duke's daughter with celestial beauty made for a pair that sparked more than a few rumors.

Eventually, Lyris stood, smoothing out her simple yet elegant training robes. "Alright, I need to go. I promised Father I'd help him greet some visiting nobles this afternoon. You'll be okay?"

Evolis rose to his feet as well, stretching his arms behind his head. "I'll be fine. Maybe I'll head to the archives for a bit—look up some new spear techniques or something."

She laughed lightly. "Don't overwork that genius brain of yours, slacker."

"Ha. You're one to talk, Miss Perfect Grades," he shot back with a mock glare.

With that, they parted ways, and Evolis meandered toward the archives—a quiet wing of the academy housing shelves upon shelves of scrolls, books, and ancient manuals. As he walked, he replayed Gaius's words in his mind. 'If there's something you're meant to discover, it'll find you'. He wasn't sure if he believed in destiny or fate, but a part of him felt drawn to the idea that there was more to his life than just being the adopted son of a noble family.

Stepping into the archives, he breathed in the familiar smell of old parchment and dusty wood. Rows of shelves stretched before him, each labelled with a neat placard detailing their contents—combat manuals, magical theory, historical records, treatises on elemental energies, and so on. A handful of other students were quietly studying at desks scattered throughout the large, high-ceilinged room.

He made his way to a section on advanced spear techniques, running his fingers over the spines of various tomes. One, in particular, caught his eye: Flowing Tempest: A Treatise on Spear Footwork. As he slid it off the shelf, a small slip of paper fell out and fluttered to the floor.

Curious, he bent down to pick it up. The slip contained a few lines of neat handwriting in a language he didn't immediately recognize. Oddly enough, the characters seemed to glow faintly under the dim lighting, and for a split second, a surge of warmth coursed through him—similar to what he'd felt during the duel with Karam.

His heart pounded. 'What is this?' he wondered, eyes narrowing. There was something about the slip of paper, something that felt… connected to him in a way he couldn't put into words.

He tucked it into his pocket, glancing around to see if anyone else had noticed. The other students were absorbed in their reading, oblivious to his discovery. 'I'll check it out later', he thought, a strange mix of excitement and apprehension welling up inside him.

As he settled at a nearby desk and flipped open the spear manual, his mind wandered back to Lyris, Gaius, and the swirl of questions that had plagued him since the duel. He had no clue what the slip of paper was or why it made his pulse race, but one thing was certain: he couldn't ignore the nagging sense that it was meant for him.

'Maybe', he mused with a lopsided grin, 'I'm about to unlock some crazy hidden skill that'll blow everyone's minds'. The idea was half-joke, half-hope. Because deep down, despite all his bravado and wit, he couldn't shake the feeling that a door had cracked open somewhere, and on the other side lay answers to the questions he'd been afraid to ask.

Outside, the sun crept higher in the sky, casting warm rays through the tall windows. Within the hush of the archives, Evolis lost track of time, his focus alternating between the advanced spear techniques and the mysterious slip of paper burning a hole in his pocket. Little did he know, this small discovery would be the first thread unravelling the tapestry of his hidden past—and the cosmic destiny that had begun to call his name.