Elemental Blitz

12

Rael had barely slept. He lay awake, the pieces of what Rozlyn had told him about his mother and his own lineage spinning in his mind. His mother, Elendris, was not just some elf who had abandoned him and his father. She was part of something ancient and dangerous—the Vael’Thor, a faction that had been exiled from elven society for their use of shadow magic. And now, Rozlyn had revealed that Rael himself was tied to this ancient force, that his Prismatic Cognition was a manifestation of something far darker than he had ever imagined.

The academy was quiet now, the usual bustling of students and instructors drowned out by the night. Rael rose from his bed, the faint glow of moonlight seeping through the infirmary windows casting long shadows across the room. He wasn’t going to get any answers sitting here. If the academy had hidden the truth from him all these years, then there had to be records—something that could explain why the Vael’Thor, and more specifically, his mother, were so dangerous.

Rael slipped out of the infirmary, his footsteps soft against the stone floor. He moved with purpose through the darkened corridors of the academy, his mind set on one destination: the hidden archives beneath the main hall. He had heard whispers about them—stories from other recruits about forbidden books and ancient scrolls that were kept locked away from the prying eyes of students. If there was any place that held the secrets of the Vael’Thor, it would be there.

As Rael made his way down the spiraling staircase that led to the lower levels of the academy, his Prismatic Cognition flared to life, the familiar patterns of elemental magic shifting around him. The air here was thick with old magic, the kind that lingered for centuries, woven into the very foundation of the building. Rael could see the faint traces of wards and protections layered over the entrance to the archives, designed to keep intruders out.

“Guess I’m going to have to get creative,” Rael muttered under his breath.

He reached out with his magic, manipulating the prismatic patterns of air and earth that formed the protective wards. It took time, but eventually, he found the weak points, unraveling the spell just enough to slip through without triggering any alarms. The large iron doors creaked open, revealing a dark, cavernous room filled with shelves of dusty tomes, scrolls, and relics.

Rael stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room. The air was heavy with the smell of old parchment and faint traces of incense used for preserving ancient documents. He moved quickly, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before someone noticed the breach in the wards. He needed to find what he was looking for, and fast.

The section on elven history was buried in the far corner of the archives, and Rael wasted no time thumbing through the shelves, pulling out anything that looked remotely relevant. Books on the elven dynasties, their ancient wars, their magic—but none of it mentioned the Vael’Thor.

“Come on,” Rael muttered, growing frustrated. He was about to give up when his fingers brushed against the spine of a worn, leather-bound tome hidden behind several larger books. The cover was unmarked, but when Rael opened it, he saw the familiar symbol of the Vael’Thor—the interlocking circles of shadow and light, a representation of their belief in the balance between creation and destruction.

“Got you,” Rael whispered, pulling the book from the shelf.

He flipped through the pages, his eyes scanning the text. It was written in an old elven dialect, but Rael’s mind worked quickly, translating as he read. This was another part of his powers. He could read just about any language. The Vael’Thor had once been part of the great elven houses, a respected order of scholars and magi. But their quest for deeper knowledge had led them down a dangerous path—one that brought them into contact with the shadow magic that had existed before the dawn of the kingdoms. They had become obsessed with harnessing that power, believing that it was the key to true mastery of the elements. But the other elven houses had feared their growing influence and power, leading to their eventual exile.

As Rael read further, he found mention of a prophecy—one that spoke of a child born of both human and elven blood, a child who would have the power to awaken the ancient forces of shadow. The Vael’Thor believed that this child would either restore balance to the world or bring about its destruction, depending on the path they chose.

Rael’s heart raced as the pieces fell into place. That child was him. It had to be. His mother had left him and his father not because she didn’t care, but because the Vael’Thor had demanded it. They had known what he was, even before he was born.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the corridors outside the archives, pulling Rael from his thoughts. He shoved the book into his tunic and quickly moved to the shadows, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t have time to think—he had to get out of here.

As the footsteps grew louder, Rael focused on the patterns of air and light around him, bending them to make himself invisible to anyone who entered the room. He watched from the shadows as two instructors stopped at the door, their faces stern. They stepped in and began to investigate the room but Rael was gone. Slipping past them with ease. It is time for him to leave the academy. It is obvious they only wanted him here to watch him.

And his father has some explaining to do.