The Silver Dawn

Ariel awoke to silence.

Not the comforting stillness of night. Not the quiet hum of a world at rest.

But the kind of silence that felt heavy.

Watching. Waiting.

His body was stiff. His limbs felt wrong, like they weren't his own. His breath came slow, measured, but his heartbeat pounded against his ribs.

The last thing he remembered was the Moon Goddess.

Her voice still echoed in his mind, as vast as the night sky, as distant as the stars.

"Power comes at a price."

Ariel blinked. The ceiling above him was stone, unfamiliar. The thin cot beneath him was just as foreign. He wasn't in the ruins of Eldrin.

He was still in the Citadel.

The realization settled over him like a weight. His home was gone. His family was gone.

And yet, he was still here.

Ariel exhaled slowly, trying to push the thoughts away. But they lingered. They always lingered.

Something shifted in the room.

A presence. Subtle. Quiet. But there.

Ariel turned his head sharply—only to see a figure leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, watching him.

A boy, his age.

Tall, lean, with messy brown hair and a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The boy tilted his head. "You're finally up."

Ariel blinked. Who?

The boy pushed off the wall, stepping closer. "They told me to come check on you, but I think they just wanted someone to make sure you didn't suddenly explode or something."

Ariel stiffened.

The boy grinned. "You really don't talk much, huh?"

Ariel's fingers curled against the cot. He had no idea who this was.

The boy sighed, stretching his arms behind his head. "Alright, fine. Guess I should introduce myself first. Arthur."

Ariel frowned slightly.

Arthur.

The name meant nothing to him. But something about him felt… different. Not hostile. Not kind, either. But something else.

Arthur dropped his arms and gave him a once-over. "You look like death. Feel like it too?"

Ariel ignored him. He sat up slowly, his muscles aching from disuse.

Arthur watched him struggle, then sighed. "Look, I get it. You're the mysterious 'survivor' or whatever. People are gonna stare. People are gonna whisper. You'll get used to it."

Ariel stilled.

Arthur's gaze flickered, like he knew exactly what he had just done.

Ariel's jaw tightened. He didn't want to get used to it.

Arthur didn't press the subject. He turned, nodding toward the door. "Come on. They're waiting for you."

Ariel hesitated. "Who?"

Arthur smirked. "Your welcoming committee."

The Training Grounds – A New Target

The training fields were the same as before—wide, open, filled with initiates honing their skills.

But this time, when Ariel stepped onto the grounds, the whispers were louder.

"He's here."

"That's him?"

"I heard he wiped out his entire town."

Ariel's shoulders tensed.

Arthur walked beside him, completely unfazed. "Told you."

Ariel clenched his jaw. He forced himself to keep walking, keep moving, keep breathing.

The weight of their eyes pressed against his skin.

Then, a voice cut through the noise.

"Well, well."

Ariel stopped.

A boy stood in the sparring ring ahead—tall, broad-shouldered, with dark eyes and a smug expression. He was surrounded by a group of other initiates, all watching with curiosity.

Ariel recognized him immediately.

The one from before.

The one who had blocked his path, called him a freak.

The boy stepped forward, arms crossed. "Still alive?"

Ariel said nothing.

Arthur sighed. "Seriously, Erik? You're already starting?"

Erik grinned. "Just curious." His gaze slid back to Ariel. "I mean, you're supposed to be special, right? Let's see it."

Ariel tensed.

Arthur muttered, "Oh, this'll be fun."

A knight instructor stepped between them, expression unreadable. "Sparring match."

Arthur groaned. "Of course."

The knight ignored him. His eyes were on Ariel. "You. In the ring."

Ariel's heart pounded.

His body still felt weak. His mind was still a storm.

But he couldn't refuse.

Slowly, he stepped forward.

A Battle of Ghosts

The ring was made of stone, lined with markings etched deep into the surface. A barrier flared to life, enclosing them in shimmering light.

Ariel's pulse drummed in his ears.

Across from him, Erik grinned. "Try not to break, yeah?"

The instructor raised his hand. "Begin."

Erik moved first.

Fast. Too fast.

Ariel barely had time to react before a fist slammed into his ribs.

Pain exploded through his chest. His body staggered back.

Erik didn't stop. He pressed forward, each strike faster, sharper, more deliberate.

Ariel couldn't keep up.

He wasn't trained. He had no technique, no foundation, no control.

Another impact. Another blow to his stomach.

Ariel gasped, vision blurring.

His legs buckled. He hit the ground hard.

The whispers grew louder.

Ariel clenched his teeth.

Move.

MOVE!

His muscles screamed. His lungs burned.

Something deep inside him twisted.

And then—it happened.

The air shuddered.

A pulse of silver light flickered across his skin.

The whispers stopped.

Ariel felt it before he understood what was happening.

His mana.

It was reacting.

Erik hesitated. Just for a second. Just enough.

Ariel moved.

Not by instinct.

Not by training.

But by something else.

Something deeper.

His body blurred—just for a moment. A flicker of moonlit movement.

And then, before he even realized what he was doing—

His fist slammed into Erik's chest.

The impact sent Erik flying.

He crashed into the ground, skidding across the stone.

Silence.

No whispers. No movement.

Just stunned shock.

Ariel panted, his body still tingling from the aftershock of his own movement.

What… was that?

The knight instructor stepped forward, expression unreadable. "Match over."

Ariel barely registered it.

His fingers shook. His breath was ragged.

The others were still staring.

Arthur—watching from the edge of the ring—smirked.

"Huh," he muttered. "Looks like he's not just a ghost after all."