The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the academy grounds in deep hues of amber and crimson. The training fields, lively during the day, now lay silent, a faint hum of residual magic lingering in the air. Standing atop the observation tower, Caelum leaned against the cold stone wall, his glowing silver eyes scanning the grounds below. His black hair swayed lightly in the evening breeze, giving him a ghostly appearance under the dimming light.
For the past few days, Caelum had been observing the students. He had no intention of socializing or forming alliances; his purpose was simple. Analyze, catalog, and prepare. Most students were unimpressive—a mix of eager recruits with varying levels of ability, but a handful caught his attention. Among them, one stood out: a boy with messy blond hair and piercing blue eyes who radiated an aura of power.
Ares.
Caelum had first noticed him during a sparring match earlier in the week. Ares had faced a towering elf with an impressive Earth affinity. The elf's ability to summon boulders and manipulate the terrain with ease had initially made him the favorite among the spectators. But Ares had made quick work of his opponent, cutting through every attack with almost arrogant precision. His movements were calculated, his strikes devastating, and it became clear that his victories weren't a result of brute strength alone.
Caelum watched from the shadows as Ares's final move—a burst of searing blue flames—obliterated the elf's defenses, forcing him to surrender. The crowd erupted in cheers, but Caelum remained expressionless. His glowing silver eyes followed Ares as he walked away, noting the subtle smirk that played on his lips. For a brief moment, Ares's gaze met Caelum's, and something passed between them—a spark of recognition, as though they both knew the other wasn't ordinary.
In the days that followed, Ares seemed to take an interest in Caelum. He never approached him directly but often lingered in his vicinity, his bright blue eyes studying Caelum with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Caelum, however, paid him little mind. Ares was strong—there was no denying that—but to Caelum, strength alone wasn't worth noting. He continued his quiet observations, meticulously identifying the strengths and weaknesses of his potential opponents.
There was the elven girl with a rare Wind affinity whose agility was unmatched, but her reliance on speed left her vulnerable to counterattacks. The dwarf with an Earth affinity and impenetrable defenses was impressive, but his lack of mobility made him predictable. Even the fiery dragonkin, whose explosive attacks made them a crowd favorite, had a glaring weakness in their overconfidence. Caelum cataloged these details without emotion, his glowing eyes methodically following their movements.
Ares, however, was harder to pin down. His combat style was versatile, a seamless blend of power and efficiency. It was clear that his mysterious system granted him an edge, adapting his techniques mid-battle in ways that no ordinary fighter could manage. Despite his skill, Caelum's indifference toward him never wavered. Ares was simply another obstacle to overcome—a name on a growing list of participants to defeat.
Ares, on the other hand, found himself increasingly intrigued by Caelum. The silver-eyed boy was an enigma. He fought with calculated precision, his every move deliberate and efficient. While others displayed their skills openly, Caelum held back, as though none of it mattered. To Ares, this restraint was unnerving. It wasn't arrogance or shyness—it was something far deeper, as if Caelum operated on a different wavelength entirely.
On the third day of training, Ares decided to approach him. He waited until Caelum was seated under a tree, a book resting on his lap, his silver eyes scanning the pages with quiet focus. Ares ran a hand through his messy blond hair, flashing his trademark confident smirk as he stepped closer.
"Caelum, right?" he said, his tone casual.
Caelum didn't look up from his book. "What do you want?"
The bluntness caught Ares off guard, but he recovered quickly, his smirk widening. "I've been watching you. You're... different from the others."
"And?" Caelum finally closed the book, his glowing silver eyes meeting Ares's piercing blue ones. There was no curiosity or hostility in his gaze, only cold indifference.
"Just curious what makes you tick," Ares continued, undeterred. "You don't seem like the type to sit back and watch, yet that's all you've done so far. Aren't you here to win?"
Caelum stood, his tall frame towering over Ares slightly. His black hair fell over his face, the silver glow of his eyes making him look almost ethereal. "If you're looking for a rival, look elsewhere," he said flatly. "I don't have time for pointless conversations."
With that, he walked away, leaving Ares standing there, his confidence shaken. For the first time in years, Ares felt something he wasn't accustomed to—uncertainty.
The days passed quickly, and soon the final night before the entrance exam arrived. The academy grounds were abuzz with activity, the tension among the students palpable. Many spent the evening honing their skills or strategizing with their peers. Others paced nervously, their faces pale with anticipation.
Caelum, however, was calm. He spent the evening in the quiet garden behind the dormitories, his body still as he meditated beneath the starlit sky. The world around him faded as he focused on his breathing, the energy within him pulsing steadily. When he finally opened his eyes, the silver glow was brighterthan ever, a reflection of the storm brewing within him.
Elsewhere, Ares prepared in his own way. He stood in a private training room, sweat dripping from his messy blond hair as he completed another grueling set of exercises. His system guided him with unwavering precision, pushing him to his limits. But no matter how hard he pushed himself, his thoughts kept drifting back to Caelum.
"Potential rivals identified," the system's voice echoed in his mind. "Caelum. Threat level: Unknown."
Ares clenched his fists, his frustration mounting. The system's inability to predict Caelum's capabilities left him uneasy. He hated the unknown, and Caelum was the embodiment of it.
"I'll figure you out," Ares muttered under his breath, his blue eyes narrowing. "One way or another."
That night, the academy held a mandatory assembly in the grand hall. The headmaster, a towering dragonkin with shimmering scales, addressed the students with his booming voice. He spoke of the importance of unity, the challenges that lay ahead, and the honorof being accepted into the academy.
Caelum listened half-heartedly, his attention wandering as the headmaster droned on. Ares, standing across the hall, caught sight of him and debated approaching him again. But the memory of their last conversation held him back. Instead, he watched from afar, his mind racing with strategies and possibilities
As the assembly concluded, the students were dismissed to prepare for the following day. The coliseum gates loomed in the distance, a silent reminder of the trials to come. Caelum walked back to his dormitory, his glowing silver eyes reflecting the torchlight as he disappeared into the shadows.
The rivalry between Caelum and Ares remained unspoken, but it simmered beneath the surface. They were two forces destined to collide—one driven by ambition, the other by an unshakable resolve. As the final night gave way to dawn, the academy held its breath.
Tomorrow, the battle would begin.