The Silent Name

The next morning, the tension in the air was palpable. The Initiates' training officially began, and Ryn's presence was impossible to ignore. Wherever he went, whispers followed. Some regarded him with awe, others with suspicion. A few, like Kael Viremont, made no effort to hide their disdain.

"You don't belong here," Kael sneered as Ryn passed him in the training yard. "No House, no heritage, and no future."

Ryn stopped but didn't turn. "Funny, coming from someone whose House couldn't even reach Level 10."

Kael's face darkened, his hand twitching toward the blade at his side. Before he could act, an instructor's voice cut through the tension.

"Enough!"

The initiates turned to see Master Eira, one of the Academy's most respected mentors. Her steely gaze swept over them, silencing any further confrontation.

"Save your energy for the trials ahead," she said. "You'll need it."

The day's training began with combat drills, designed to test both skill and Resonance control. Each initiate's abilities reflected their House's specialty: the fiery strikes of House Ignis, the fluid, adaptive movements of House Undina, the unyielding defences of House Petra. Ryn, however, struggled to harness his Resonance. Unlike the others, whose powers flowed naturally, his felt wild and unpredictable, surging and receding without warning.

By midday, his frustration was evident. Every attempt to channel his energy ended in failure, drawing snickers from the other initiates. Even Lyra, who had been watching from the sidelines, seemed uncertain.

"You're trying too hard," she said during a break. "Resonance isn't something you force. It's… symbiotic. You have to let it guide you."

Ryn sighed. "That's easy for you to say. Your powers actually listen to you."

Lyra frowned but didn't push further. Instead, she handed him a small book. "Take this. It's an old Ventus text on Resonance theory. Maybe it'll help you figure out whatever's going on with you."

Ryn took the book, murmuring his thanks. That night, as the others rested, he poured over its pages, searching for anything that might explain his strange powers. One passage caught his eye:

Resonance is not merely a reflection of one's lineage but a mirror of the soul. To wield it is to understand oneself.

The words stayed with him as he drifted to sleep, the faint hum of his Resonance lulling him into uneasy dreams. In the darkness of his mind, he saw the sigil again, burning brighter than before. And with it, a voice—soft, distant, and filled with purpose:

"You are the last."