SHATTERED REALM: FORGOTTEN ECHOES

The training grounds filled quickly, clusters of students forming around familiar faces. Whispers rose as they tried to guess why they'd been summoned so urgently.

Then Garrun and Father Prince descended, white cloaks rippling as they landed in the center. As always, Father Prince carried his twin short-staffs, a symbol of his role as both teacher and enforcer.

Murmurs quieted. Everyone expected another round of sparring. Maybe they were right. Maybe not.

"Today," Garrun's voice carried easily across the grounds, "there will be sparring."

A few students groaned loudly, and some puffed out their chests, knowing their strength. Some glanced at their greatest fear-Mozrael.

But before anyone could speak, Garrun added more.

"The sparring depends on certain students."

"Depends on some students?"

"Wait, who exactly?"

"I don't know, just don't want to be a part of it."

Thoughts differed.

As they speculated, he continued. "Throughout your stay here, we have made it clear that strength matters. And as a result, you have these sparring matches here to determine your strength and grow stronger, isn't that right?"

"Yes, sir!" They all chanted.

"Now, we also leave you to do as you please so you can explore anyway you like. I believe it has helped a number of you, correct?"

"Yes, sir!" They responded again.

"About a month ago," Garrun said, a chuckle rumbling in his throat, "we had… an incident. The kind I like to call the joys of youth—though it was anything but joyful for those involved."

A ripple of recognition passed through the crowd.

"Some boys tried their luck at mischief and paid dearly for it." His hand lifted, pointing toward Mozrael. "Justice was delivered. Ruthless, but just. A perfect example of strength used properly."

Dozens of eyes shifted toward her. Mozrael stiffened under the weight of the attention, though Elira clapped proudly beside her, sparking a light applause that even Father Garrun joined.

"Now then, why am I bringing this up?" He looked at their faces, smiling as he continued. "She did a good job punishing them, but didn't give a chance to identify who those young men were. The bopys came together as one to heal them, and by the next morning, the victims were healthy."

Some girls scoffed, but they were okay not knowing who the perverts were. At least they won't try anything funny after being treated like that.

Some of the girls had let go of the past, but a few still hated the boys. The only exception being Aramith and Aris of course because they weren't part, and their almighty Mozrael related well with them.

Garrun started pacing amongst them, looking into faces and driving fear into them with every glance. "I took it on myself to investigate this matter, and after keeping an eye on them for so long, I found something very interesting." His smile disappeared to a very small curve on his lips.

"I know who those perverts are, but I found something extra, I believe, ve would be interesting to the girls." His smile suddenly widened, the girls perked their ears, and the boys felt a shiver.

"Well then, girls. It turns out the boys you dealt with that night had a leader." His voice became louder. "Someone guided them to do what they did. As to their exact goal, I am not interested."

He turned to the boys.

"However, I am intrigued by how someone would use strength in such a manner. I commend him for being able to become someone in power among his peers, but using your strength that way needs to be addressed."

Garrun stopped before a boy in the crowd, and suddenly the restless whispers died. The student stood tall, a faint smile tugging at his lips, but his eyes carried defiance. His build was strong, his presence sharper than the jawline that framed his face.

Recognition spread instantly.

Sylas Thorne.

One of the academy's brightest prospects. Power radiated from him as naturally as breath, and the respect of his peers seemed to orbit him without effort. Some girls admired him openly. One had even confessed. He had turned her down—charmingly, politely—but the rejection only deepened his mystique.

"I knew something was wrong with that boy," Elira said.

Of course, something was wrong with him, Mozrael thought. He used Aris as bait. From the first week, Sylas's charisma drew boys to his side, but Aris had warned them: keep clear. One day, he would deal with Sylas himself. Mozrael respected Aris for wanting to deal with his own problem.

They found it interesting, however, that Sylas never confronted Ari or said anything to him. He never even looked at him with any odd expressions.

It was clear he didn't want anything to do with Aris or Aramith.

"Come forward," Garrun said. The boys were about to speak up, but Sylas raised a hand to stop them.

"As you wish, sir," Sylas said as he stepped forward.

Once in the middle, he raised his head and calmly said, "I respect authority very much, and that is why I am here. It doesn't mean I accept that I am guilty."

"Well said, pervert," Elira blurted before she could stop herself. Sylas's eyes flicked toward her like a blade, and she ducked instantly behind Mozrael's shoulder.

"Now then, for the sparring match I mentioned earlier," Garrun said.

They'd all forgotten there was supposed to be a sparring.

Sylas immediately took a step back.

Was he going to spar with me?

Those were the exact thoughts of every student present.

Garrun chuckled. "If you were pitted against me, I believe that would be called a beating, and not a match."

Sylas sighed, but he felt uneasy.

"I decided your punishment, and it was that you would be an outcast like those two students, " Garrun added.

"What?!" Sylas' calm front cracked. He looked disgusted.

"I don't see this as fair treatment. You haven't evne proven that I am the one who led them to do this!"

"And do I need to prove anything to you, when it is true? Shut your mouth before I tie it up, boy."

Sylas kept his mouth shut, but the whole place was loud as people expressed their opinions.

"Father Prince stepped forward, staffs glinting in the sun. 'I have a suggestion… if you wish to avoid exile.' He twirled the weapons once, then —SNAP!"

The place became silent again. "You are a good student with decent capabilities. Why don't you test that on the outcasts? Beat them in a match, and if you win, you remain. If you lose, they take your place in the dormitories, and you get kicked out."

This sounded like a reasonable bet, but anyone who'd seen Sylas fight knew he would win easily. Aramith and Aris had never been included in any sparring matches, but everyone knew for sure that Sylas would win by a landslide.

Later, Elira tugged at Mozrael's sleeve, panic etched across her face. "Say something! This isn't fair. Aramith's going to be humiliated—hurt, even. How can you just sit there?"

Mozrael didn't answer at once. Her gaze lingered on Sylas, calm and unreadable, before she finally shook her head. "If Sylas wants disgrace, why stop him?" Her lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "At least then, Aramith will have a bed."

Elira stared. "You're not… worried?"

"No, why should I be?" Mozrael said simply.

Elira admired her confidence in Aramith, but she just couldn't picture him ever overpowering Sylas. And Aris was very weak too. This was hopeless.

"You!" Father Prince pointed to Elira. "Go call those boys. Tell them to be here right this instant."

Elira scuffled away, hating this whole turn of events. She could only picture Aramith getting seriously beaten up.

"I don't think this will end well," she muttered as she left.

"I hope you don't have any second thoughts on this?" Father Prince asked Sylas.

Sylas smiled. "I accept the terms of this, but I have a question."

"Well, what would that be?" Father Prince asked.

With a thoughtful expression, Sylas asked. "Wouldn't this sparring match be unfair?" He asked.

"Don't think much of it. You will be fighting them one at a time. Win both rounds and you stay."

"Very well, but I was worried about them. They are no match for me, so wouldn't this be more disgraceful for them when I defeat them?" He asked.

Father Prince and Garrun both laughed. "Very confident, I like that!" Garrun said.

"There is one more thing you should keep in mind. This will be a real sparring match. We won't intervene one bit. You are to battle till one of you cannot continue, or till one admits defeat."

Sylas smiled, an evil glint in his eyes. I'm going to crush them. Mind, body, and will.

"Thank you for this," Sylas bowed slightly.

Moments later, the crowd parted as Aramith and Aris stepped into the grounds. Elira trailed behind them, guilt written all over her face.

The air shifted instantly.

Aramith's eyes found Sylas standing at the center. The boy's smile was sharp, almost eager, as if he had been waiting for this moment.

Aramith's frown deepened. He already knew what was coming.