Do what you do 

Omir 

I was just trying to figure out how I could sneak into the dining hall without drawing any attention when a shimmer of golden red caught my eye. A small bird, blazing and delicate, hovered just outside my window. It radiated pure magic, no feathers, just flame.

The moment I reached for it, the firebird opened its beak and released a voice that echoed with unmistakable authority.

"Omir Igwe, please come to my office as soon as possible. We have quite a lot of things to discuss. –Arthur."

Arthur Blackash. Principal of the Academy of Magical Affinities.

Just my luck.

He knows, I thought.

Of course, he knows, Lynx growled from inside my mind. You think someone blessed by Terra wouldn’t sense what you are?

Blackash came from the ancient Blackash line, neutral descendants long tied to the Genovian Isles. They didn’t belong to any kingdom, and they were known for one thing: magic that ran older than borders.

I could try to hide Lynx again, reseal him, and mask our bond with another rune. Mama had taught me well, but Arthur Blackash had the kind of aura that saw through veils.

No avoiding this, I murmured.

We face it. Let’s see who he really is, Lynx added.

I scribbled a quick note for Liam and left it on my desk.

“Exploring the outer islands. Be back before sundown. Don’t worry. –O.”

Hopefully, it would keep him from panicking. The Genovian Isles were known to be heavily warded. No one without clearance could get far, and I wasn’t going there anyway.

I made my way through the dorm corridors, weaving around groups of students returning from breakfast. As I reached for the edge of my coat’s lining, I touched one of the rune-stones sewn discreetly into it. I pressed a finger into the familiar grooves and focused.

The air shimmered faintly, like heat over stone, and then settled. A concealment rune, hand-drawn and tuned to my affinity, masked my presence. Not invisibility, but a gentle nudge for the eyes to look elsewhere.

That should do it, I thought.

Nice to know you're finally trusting your own work, Lynx snorted.

I padded silently through the northern halls, heading for the Dome of Creation, a secluded white spire that housed the principal’s office.

Before I could knock, the door creaked open on its own.

"Come in, Omir Igwe," Arthur’s voice called from inside.

The office was a strange, controlled chaos. Piles of old scrolls leaned dangerously on dusty tomes. Runes glowed faintly on the edges of the ceiling. Shelves dripped with enchanted items, and maps floated midair in slow rotation.

He sat at his desk, sleeves rolled up, hands ink-stained.

“You sent for me, Professor?” I asked carefully.

“Please, have a seat. We have much to discuss,” he said, not looking up.

I lowered myself into the chair opposite him, feeling the layers of protective runes stitched into the room. They didn’t just prevent eavesdropping. They dampened power.

“You know why I called you, don’t you?” he asked.

“Not exactly,” I said, keeping my voice even.

Play dumb, Lynx urged. Let’s see how far he goes.

Arthur chuckled. “Ah… a smart one. I appreciate caution. But I never imagined I’d see a child from the Igwe line walk through my gates.”

My stomach turned. He did know.

“Your concealment is well-crafted. I’ll admit, if I didn’t know what to look for, even I might have missed it. Your familiar is impressive. Runes that tight? I haven’t seen that level of control in decades.”

Still, I said nothing.

“How much do you know about your family’s history? Or better yet, how much do you know about Noxia or The Vowbreakers?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said. “My mother taught me a few things, mostly how to hide. She never mentioned any of this.”

“She did right by you then,” Arthur said. He pulled an ancient diary from his shelf. It looked blank, brittle.

Then he pricked his finger with a silver dagger.

As his blood touched the page, a glowing rune activated and lines of writing bloomed like fire.

“This is the diary of one of my ancestors. A recounting of what happened when the gods still touched the world. Biased maybe, but true.”

I leaned forward, unable to stop myself.

Arthur’s voice settled into something older, almost like it wasn’t entirely his.

“This world, when it was first formed, was shaped by two celestial forces, Terra and Noxia. Two sides of the same coin.

Terra, ever the nurturer, gave this land life, connection, and soulbonds. She wove magic into the bones of the earth and gifted us with familiars, living mirrors of our essence. Her magic was the kind that healed, grew, and united.

But Noxia… she offered the opposite. Not as punishment, but as balance. Where Terra gave light, Noxia gave shadow. She seeded the land with monsters, affliction, and the power to sever what was meant to be eternal.

You see, Omir, even in a world filled with blessings, humans remain curious… hungry. Noxia did not force their hand, she whispered. Promised them power without vulnerability. Obedience without love. And some listened.”

At those words, I felt something tighten in my chest, not mine, but Lynx’s.
A ripple of magic stirred beneath my skin, like wind curling through the threads of our bond.

“Her gift was not soulbonds, but Chains of false familiars who obeyed their masters but drained them from within. They offered strength but left the spirit hollow. And the mythical familiars, dragons, phoenixes, gryphons? Many were twisted in those days, driven mad with corrupted magic.”

That’s why they feared us, Lynx murmured in my mind. His tone was quiet. Uneasy.

“The world was nearly torn apart. Terra, bound by the law of balance, could not undo what Noxia began. So, it was mortals our ancestors, who rose. They fought to protect the last uncorrupted bonds, carving runes into stone and skin, sealing away the worst of Noxia’s influence.”

Another pulse of something ancient surged through Lynx’s presence, an echo, a memory not his but buried deep in his blood.

I remember the runes. The scent of fire and stone. I was not born, but I was meant to return.  His voice wasn’t frightened. Just… aware.

“That war was how the noble lines were born, not from conquest, but from loyalty. Terra rewarded their courage with high-affinity blood and gave them a bigger magical core, marking their families to pass magic down through generations. Your bloodline was one of them. So was mine.”

They used to fight for her, Lynx whispered. But now? Now they play politics while forgetting why the gifts were given.

Arthur looked at me closely. “You carry her mark. And a familiar not seen in centuries.”

“I don’t know what you expect from me,” I said. “If you’re hoping I’ll rise to something, I’m not it.”

“I expect nothing,” Arthur replied. “Terra asks for peace. I only wanted you to know your place in this world’s history.”

“I’m scared I’ll slip,” I admitted. “That I’ll say something wrong or use too much magic. I just want to live, but even that feels impossible.”

“You’re doing it now, Omir,” Arthur said. “Living and learning. If that’s all you ever do, you’ve already honored her.”

He stood and placed the diary back on its shelf.

“One last thing, if you hear anything about Noxia or The Vowbreakers, report it directly to me. Quietly. You can come to me any time, just… not publicly.”

I nodded.

As I left the Tower, Lynx spoke again, softer this time.

He doesn’t want a hero. Just someone who remembers.

Then let’s try, I thought.

Let’s do what we do, Lynx agreed.

I looked inward. And this time, I didn’t flinch.