In a forgotten valley near the fractured border of the Verdant Conclave, a young man opened his eyes.
The world smelled of magic and wind.
Birdsong. Mana. Fire in the earth. Stars in the sky. He was home.
But this time, he was different. His body, young again — around seventeen — glowed faintly with natural power, unrestricted by seals or divine law.
He had no title.
No army.
No allies.
Only memories.
And a burning will:
> "I am Vaelreth Draconis. No longer your Emperor. Only your reckoning."
He stood, walked toward the horizon — and saw the towering gates of Arcanum Magisterium, the most elite magic academy in the fractured realm.
His lips curled into a smile.
> "I will rise again."
The Forgotten Flame
The gates of Valdrake Arcanum Academy loomed tall— Arcanum Magisterium, nestled between the floating cliffs of Zephyra and the shimmering Everveil Sea, was not merely a school — it was a throne of legacy. It trained the heirs of the world's most powerful bloodlines. Kings, queens, warlords, and archmages all had their roots traced to its halls.
The outer gates were shaped from living silverwood and imbued with protection runes older than the continents themselves. Above them, three gargantuan statues stood watch: one of a phoenix, one of a crowned serpent, and one of a blindfolded angel — symbols of power, knowledge, and judgment.
And in the shadow of that grandeur, Vaelreth stood once more — now in the humble, unmarked robes of a commoner.
He approached the gate with quiet steps and eyes that had once witnessed the fall of gods. — forged from obsidian and laced with ancient silver runes that pulsed faintly in the morning mist. Students in finely tailored robes, bearing family sigils and crests, passed beneath them, unaware that among them walked a being older than their bloodlines, cloaked in a simple black mantle and a name not his own.
> "Rael," he whispered to himself. "That's who I am now."
The name tasted foreign. It wasn't the one sung by bards or feared by kings. The world had moved on. The tales of the Dragon Emperor were now myths buried under a century of rewritten history. A century to them — only a single year to him.
He passed through the threshold, and the academy's magical wards washed over him like smoke. He felt them probe, scan, and judge — but he had wrapped his soul in veils of deception crafted from forbidden knowledge of his second life. Not even the Archmages would sense who he truly was.
The courtyard opened like a cathedral of stone and sky. Towers twisted into the clouds, enchanted creatures flew between floating platforms, and spellfire shimmered around sparring grounds. Magic was everywhere — raw, alive, and unrefined.
> "They've grown arrogant," Rael thought. "They chant for power I once whispered."
A bell tolled. Students hurried. He stood still.
His test was about to begin.
---
The Entrance Trial
The inside of the academy was filled with chatter, as all the other students formed groups with other student they get a sense of familiarity with. Their voices echoed excitement, nervousness and impatience all filling up the surrounding air with liveliness . Inside the central spire, a grand chamber pulsed with mana. Hundreds of hopefuls stood in a half-circle. In the center, a trial stone floated — jagged and ancient. It judged magical potential, strength of will, and bloodline inheritance.
"Next. State your name and place your hand upon the stone," the examiner droned.
One after another, students stepped forward.
"Seren of House Neldor!"
"Rank: Gold. Bloodline: Celestial Flame."
A murmur spread. Applause.
More names followed, each louder, more decorated than the last.
Then—
"Rael. No house."
The room quieted. Whispers.
> "A commoner?"
"He's dressed like a farmer."
"Waste of time."
Rael stepped forward. Calm. Silent. His palm met the stone.
Nothing happened.
The crowd laughed.
Then—
The room dimmed. The stone cracked. A low hum trembled in the walls.
The laughter stopped.
Flames erupted from the stone, not red or orange — but black and violet, dancing like shadows made of fire. Symbols appeared midair — ancient ones that hadn't been seen since the age of dragons.
The examiners jumped from their seats.
> "That's… impossible!"
The stone exploded, shards hovering frozen in the air around Rael's calm expression. His cloak flared, caught in unseen winds. Mana flooded the chamber — raw, pure, and primeval.
Rael turned to the crowd.
> "Is that enough to enter?"
Silence.
Then the chief examiner — a wrinkled mage with shaking hands — whispered, "Y-you pass. Welcome… to Valdrake."
---
As Rael walked through the stunned crowd, students stepped back as if parted by an unseen force. Some watched in awe, others in fear.
But one pair of eyes followed him differently.
She stood in the back — silver hair falling over pointed ears, her violet eyes shadowed by a curse she did not deserve. She was marked, rejected, and forgotten — like him.
Their fates had yet to intert
wine.
But the wind already knew.
And it whispered.
> "Two broken stars... will burn together."
---
[End of Chapter 2]