The wind blew through the trees of the forest, carrying with it the damp scent of the earth and the crackling of dry leaves. The sky was dark, lit only by a gigantic moon that seemed to be watching him from above, a silver monolith suspended in the void.
Kael Draven opened his eyes with a snap. A searing pain shot through his head, as if he had suffered a terrible blow. His breath hitched in his chest as he tried to stand up, but his limbs felt heavy, as if his body was no longer the same.
He slowly sat up. The ground beneath him was cold, damp. It took him a few seconds to realize that he was not in his room.
He was not even in his world.
Slowly, his mind filled with memories that were not his. An Academy of Magic. A world of spells and arcane power. Noble houses, wars between kingdoms, and legendary monsters that walked among men.
And then, an even more absurd truth: Kael Draven was a wizard. Or at least, he should have been.
But something was wrong. Something didn't add up.
Instinctively, he looked at his hands. They weren't the ones he remembered. His fingers were thinner, stronger. His skin seemed tougher. And then he noticed a glowing symbol etched on the back of his right hand: an arcane sigil, a circle with interlocking lines that pulsed with blue light.
"What the hell is this?" he thought, his heart pounding in his chest.
Then, the memories became clearer.
On the day of his Awakening Ceremony—when each student at the Academy discovered their magical element—something had gone wrong. While other boys received only one power, like fire, water, earth, or wind, he had manifested multiple elements at once.
A heresy.
The Academy had declared him an anomaly. The professors had called him a mistake of nature, an unnatural being that should never have existed. The Magic Council had decided he was too dangerous.
Immediate expulsion.
The Academy had disowned him. The world had abandoned him.
"But if I was expelled... why am I still alive? And more importantly, where am I?"
A rustling in the trees made him stiffen. His body reacted before he could even think: he stood up abruptly, muscles tense, heart racing. Survival instinct.
From the darkness emerged a figure wrapped in a dark cloak. Golden eyes shone beneath the hood.
"It seems you have finally awakened, Kael Draven."
The voice was deep, filled with ancient power.
Kael took a step back, his fists clenched. He didn't know who the man was, but every fiber of his being told he was dangerous.
"Who are you?" Kael growled, ready to pounce.
The man was silent for a moment, then stepped forward. His cloak moved slightly, revealing black armor with gold etchings. Battle armor.
"I am the one who watches the exiles," the man replied with an enigmatic smile. "And you, Kael, are an exile. But all is not lost for you. Not yet."
Kael gritted his teeth. "Have you come to kill me?"
The man laughed softly, a deep, heartless laugh. "No, boy. I have come to give you a choice."