Kiran sighed heavily as he hurried out of his final class, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion.

The day had been particularly grueling - starting with Runic Theory at dawn, where Elder Pane had spent three hours drilling them on the precise angles needed for advanced defensive runes.

That was followed by Resonance Control, where they'd practiced maintaining multiple energy channels simultaneously until half the class collapsed from strain.

After a brief break for lunch came Combat Applications, which always left him with new bruises despite his best efforts to avoid direct confrontation.

Then, there had been Celestial Studies, where they endlessly dissected the meaning behind every subtle shift in the red sun's light. At least in that class he could sit quietly and take notes without being called upon to demonstrate his inadequate abilities.

But worst of all had been the final class - Spiritual Resonance.

Elder Aria had made them sit perfectly still for four hours, maintaining their connection to the red sun while she critiqued their posture and breathing. Three students had passed out from the strain, and one poor soul had started bleeding from his eyes when his resonance slipped.

The academy's healers had rushed him away, but everyone knew what happened to initiates who showed signs of instability. The Failure Garden would likely have a new addition by morning.

"And now I have my own practice to do," Kiran muttered to himself, rubbing his temples where a headache was forming.

The examination at the end of the month loomed over every initiate like a death sentence. Those who failed to demonstrate sufficient progress would face consequences far worse than mere expulsion. The Failure Garden wasn't just a metaphor, after all.

It hadn't always been this way.

When Kiran first entered the academy two years ago, his family's influence had secured him an apprenticeship under Elder Moth, one of the more respected instructors.

But his persistent reluctance to embrace the more violent aspects of their arts had quickly tried the elder's patience. After six months of attempting to mold Kiran into a proper Skybound warrior, Elder Moth had officially terminated the apprenticeship.

His family's reaction still stung.

There had been no comforting words, no reassurances that he would find another path. Instead, his father's face had hardened with disappointment, while his mother couldn't even look at him. The generous allowance they had provided was cut to a bare minimum, just enough to maintain appearances.

The message was clear - he was on his own.

A dark thought slithered through Kiran's mind, his eyes flashing crimson for a brief moment.

How convenient that the graduation ceremony's requirement to massacre one's family only applied to commoner initiates. The nobles who created that tradition had carefully exempted themselves, of course. The image of his father's shocked face as Kiran finally showed him true power was... disturbingly satisfying.

Kiran shook his head violently, disgusted with himself. This was the red sun's influence talking, not him.

While others might crave the power it offered, he'd seen what that power had done to his older brother. The memory of his brother's twisted smile as he'd "tested" his new abilities on the household servants still haunted him.

Some called his cautious attitude cowardice, but Kiran considered it practical. How many of his fellow initiates now rested in the Failure Garden, their bodies transformed into crystalline warnings? Too many to count.

Lost in his depressing thoughts, he failed to notice the group ahead until he collided with someone. The impact sent Kiran stumbling backward, landing hard on the polished crystal floor.

He looked up to see Zoren - the fifth son of House Zoren - staring down at him with unconcealed disgust.

"Well, well," Zoren drawled, his perfectly styled blonde hair catching the red sunlight streaming through the windows. "If it isn't the disappointment of House Tovel. Tell me, Kiran, do your parents still pretend you don't exist, or have they finally written you out of the family records entirely?"

Kiran kept his head down, mumbling an apology as he tried to rise, but a boot planted firmly on his chest pushed him back down.

"I asked you a question," Zoren said softly, his tone carrying an edge that made Kiran's skin crawl. The crimson light in Zoren's eyes was far too intense for comfort.

"They... they haven't disowned me," Kiran managed, hating how his voice shook.

Two years ago, he would have met Zoren's gaze with equal disdain. The fifth son of a lesser house would have been beneath his notice. But things had changed. Zoren had grown stronger, reaching the peak of Rank 1 through methods Kiran preferred not to contemplate.

Meanwhile, Kiran remained stuck in the middle stages, his progress hampered by his own reluctance to fully embrace the red sun's power.

"Not yet," one of Zoren's companions snickered. "But after the examination? When you fail again? Even the mighty House Tovel won't be able to ignore that shame."

"Speaking of shame," Zoren said, finally removing his boot. "Have you heard about our new celebrity? The 'Natural' that Elder Molric took in?" His smile showed too many teeth. "A commoner with remarkable talent... it makes one wonder about the true worth of noble blood, doesn't it?"

Kiran's heart sank. He was there to witness the new initiate's performance with the resonance platforms. More importantly, he'd heard about how Zoren had been hunting for the newcomer, spouting some nonsense about "maintaining proper hierarchies" and "teaching respect."

"I haven't seen him," Kiran said quickly, perhaps too quickly. Zoren's eyes narrowed.

"Really? Because Hal swears he saw you speaking to him at the meditation chamber." Zoren crouched down, bringing his face uncomfortably close to Kiran's. "You wouldn't be lying to me, would you? Protecting some peasant who doesn't know his place?"

"N-no, I just..." Kiran's denial was cut short by a sharp kick to his ribs. Not from Zoren - he preferred to keep his hands clean - but from one of his ever-present followers.

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"You know what I think?" Zoren stood, brushing imaginary dust from his immaculate robes. "I think you're sympathizing with him. The failed noble and the uppity peasant, both of you refusing to accept your proper places." He sighed. "It's really quite pathetic."

Another kick caught Kiran in the side, driving the air from his lungs. He curled instinctively, trying to protect himself as more blows rained down.

After a minute or so, the kicks suddenly stopped.

"Someone's coming," one of Zoren's companions whispered urgently. "We should go."

"Fighting outside designated areas is forbidden," another added nervously, though everyone present knew that rule only mattered if you got caught.

Kiran heard Zoren click his tongue in disappointment. "Lucky day for you, Tovel. But don't worry—" Zoren's voice dropped to a menacing whisper, "—I'll be sure to pay you a proper visit another time."

The sound of retreating footsteps echoed through the hallway. The corridors had emptied quickly when the confrontation began—other initiates knew better than to be anywhere near Zoren when he was in one of his moods. And no witnesses meant no violations to report.

Kiran waited until he was sure they were gone before slowly uncurling himself and sitting up with a wince. His ribs protested the movement, but nothing felt broken—Zoren's lackeys knew exactly how much damage they could inflict without leaving visible evidence, which explained why they never used the red sun’s energy, after all, it left a trace.

As Kiran slowly got to his feet, he thought about Zoren's attitude towards the Natural. The look in Zoren's eyes had been disturbingly intense, far more serious than his usual casual cruelty. This wasn't just about maintaining the social hierarchy anymore; something about the Natural's existence seemed to personally offend Zoren.

Kiran's mind flashed back to his brief encounter with the Natural in the meditation chamber. They had barely exchanged words before the senior disciples enforced silence, but there had been something different about him. A quiet confidence that stood out among the usual mix of arrogant nobles and terrified commoners.

"I should warn him," Kiran muttered to himself, pressing a hand against the wall for support as he straightened. He knew all too well what it was like to be Zoren's target. The Natural might have remarkable talent, but he was still new to the Academy's politics. Without family connections to protect him...

And Elder Molric... Kiran snorted softly. Everyone knew the eccentric elder was more interested in his bizarre experiments than in actually teaching.

The fact that he'd taken the Natural as a disciple had shocked the entire Academy, but it wouldn't mean much in terms of protection. Elder Molric would probably forget he even had a disciple the moment an interesting research opportunity arose.

Perhaps this was simply Kiran's way of striking back at Zoren, using the Natural as a proxy for his own frustrated desires for revenge. But even if his motivations weren't entirely pure, surely warning an unsuspecting newcomer about the danger heading his way was the right thing to do?

His thoughts were interrupted by voices echoing down the corridor. One of them, enthusiastic and slightly manic, was immediately recognizable.

"Your approach to learning is quite refreshing," Elder Molric was saying. "Most initiates come from established Skybound families, you see. They arrive with years of theoretical knowledge but rather inflexible mindsets."

Kiran spotted them rounding the corner – Elder Molric gesturing animatedly as he walked, followed by the Natural, who seemed to be listening intently. It was a strange sight. Kiran had never seen the elder so engaged with a student before.

Just as Kiran opened his mouth to call out, Elder Molric's eyes locked onto him. The elder's smile took on an unsettling quality that made Kiran's stomach drop.

"Come here," Elder Molric said softly.

The words carried a weight that transcended mere sound. Kiran felt reality twist around him, as if the very fabric of space had become a funnel with Elder Molric at its center. His body moved without his consent, drawn forward by an irresistible force.

The sensation was beyond terrifying. Kiran had experienced many forms of Skybound techniques during his training, but nothing like this. It felt like being pulled into a void, every atom of his being screaming in protest as it was stretched and compressed.

For one horrible moment, he was certain he was about to die.

Then it was over.

Kiran stumbled, barely staying on his feet as he materialized directly in front of the elder. His mouth opened and closed, but no coherent words emerged.

"Perfect timing!" Elder Molric beamed, clapping his hands together like a child who'd just received a new toy. He turned to the Natural, his eyes twinkling with barely contained excitement.

"I've found you a training dummy! Now, do try not to kill him – the Council gets terribly upset about initiate deaths these days. All those noble families making such a fuss..." He sighed dramatically. "It was much better in my day, you know. Accidental deaths were seen as a sign of proper instruction!"

Kiran's eyes darted between Elder Molric's delighted expression and the Natural's face. The Natural's expression was unreadable, but there was a flash of recognition in his eyes.

"Now then," Elder Molric said, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "Shall we begin? Tomas needs to practice his new runes, and you, young Tovel, need to work on your... everything, really. Your resonance is absolutely dreadful." He shook his head. "How you've managed to stay in Rank 1 this long without exploding is beyond me. Though I suppose there's still time for that!"

"What have I gotten myself into?" Kiran thought, a cold sweat breaking out across his skin as he realized that Elder Molric's reputation for eccentricity might have been understating things considerably.