A sharp knock struck his desk.
"Aren."
The voice felt distant.
"Aren Cross, wake up."
His eyes snapped open.
For a mont, all he saw was white, as the lights above shone too brightly for his eyes.
The tallic sll of blood and rain was completely gone without a trace. Instead, his senses were filled with chalk dust and the faint sll of perfu.
Wait, perfu?
"Do you plan on sleeping through the entire lecture?" the teacher said coldly. "Or would you like to explain the Internal Canvas to the class yourself?"
Laughter rippled softly across the classroom, everyone whispering sothing that he couldn’t really catch.
Aren didn’t answer.
He looked at his hands and then his stomach. There was no cut on his palm, no black veins running down his arm, and no large gaping hole where his intestines used to be.
Without thinking, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
The screen lit up.
His reflection stared back at him. Aren was shocked. His face had no scars or anything that showed signs of fighting. His skin was pale like a newborn baby’s.
His ssy white white hair, with a cowlick sticking out was the sa as always, just...brighter
The classroom froze.
"Aren."
The teacher’s voice dropped several degrees.
"Put. That. Away."
Only then did Aren realize what he’d done.
He stiffened, locked eyes with the woman at the front, then slowly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He forced his breathing steady and looked around before finally speaking.
"...Sorry, Teacher. I won’t do it again."
A few students snickered.
The teacher frowned and turned back to the board.
"Hey, you’re a good student. Don’t waste that potential."
Aren nodded once.
"I understand."
He lowered his head, resting his elbows on the desk, fingers curling slowly into his palms.
I’m back.
Not a dream.
Not an illusion.
Sohow, despite failing to draw the final Line, despite falling into nothingness...he was back in his younger self’s body, 20 years in the past.
Aren closed his eyes.
He didn’t know what happened, but for now, he must play the role of the student.
The scratch of chalk against the board resud, steady and familiar.
"As I was saying," the teacher continued, voice flat, "today’s topic is fundantal, but many of you still misunderstand it."
She wrote a single word in large characters.
BLOODLINES
"A Bloodline," the teacher continued, "is the manifestation of your lineage, the divine power, called ether, that mixed with your family and was passed down to you."
"It takes the form of an animal deity, spirit, or god. Everyone with even a trace of ether will awaken one upon reaching eighteen."
"This is what you’ll be doing soon, when the Military Officer arrives."
Aren’s gaze lowered.
No exceptions...
That was true. Mostly.
"In simple terms," the teacher went on, "your Bloodline is what you are born with. It defines your potential."
A few students straightened in their seats at that. Soone in the back scoffed quietly.
The chalk moved again.
INTERNAL CANVAS
"Inside every Mystic," the teacher said, "exists an Internal Canvas. A space within your mind. An Inner World."
"Inside that world, the true form of your Bloodline already exists."
She paused, glancing over the class.
"You are not creating sothing new. You are revealing what has always been there."
"The Bloodline takes the form of a Canvas," the teacher continued. "As long as you follow the natural order, it will not change."
Aren almost laughed. It was a common teaching in school but in the real world? Many broke it easily.
"Which brings us to the most important part."
The chalk struck the board again.
LINES
"Lines, also called strokes—represent your progress toward your Bloodline’s true form," the teacher said.
"Each Line drawn successfully brings you closer to awakening its full power."
Soone rose their hand near the window.
"Teacher, how many Lines are there?"
"All Canvas will have 9 Lines, each representing a fundantal trait of the manifested spirit."
Aren’s breath slowed.
So she doesn’t know about the tenth, interesting.
"To draw a Line," the teacher continued, "you must focus your will, guide your ether, and follow the Bloodline’s template on your Canvas."
His tone hardened slightly.
"Deviating from that template greatly increases the chance of failure."
The room grew quieter.
"In the worst cases," the teacher said, "a single incorrect stroke can corrupt the Canvas entirely. Such individuals are forced onto demonic paths, sustaining their growth only by absorbing the ether of others."
The teacher moved onto the final topic.
PATHWAYS
"Each Line you draw successfully, you’ll be given a choice on your Bloodline’s evolutionary Pathways."
"These are very important," she continued. "Every 3 Lines will have you make a decision of your Elent, and the rest—the manifested Spirit’s physical features."
Soone in the front raised a hand.
"How do you know what to pick? And can you choose again?"
The teacher quickly shook her head and pointed at the board with her chalk.
"Picking your Pathway is important because once you choose, you will lose access to other Pathways."
"Many established Colleges teach dedicated Paths, but your choice depends on your own access to resources as well as other factors."
She laid down her chalk just as the lunch break bell sounded.
"Perfect."
"Clear your desks," the teacher said, turning back to the class. "An officer from the military will be arriving shortly to oversee your Bloodline Awakening."
Excited chatter imdiately filled the room.
So this is where it starts again.
Aren imdiately drew his attention back inside his Canvas once more.
Everything was real.
His Canvas wasn’t broken, yet empty where there had been 9 Lines
He returned quickly, leaning back into his chair before sighing slowly.
A shadow fell across Aren’s desk.
"Hey."
Aren looked up.
His best friend stood there, backpack slung over one shoulder with a big grin on his face. His slicked back hair and wide eyes that radiated energy stared at Aren with intensity.
"Caleb..." Aren said without thinking.
The grin faltered, replaced by a small frown.
"You okay?" Caleb asked. "First the teacher, now you’re calling by my full na."
He leaned closer. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Maybe you should go to the nurse."
Aren opened his mouth—
Then stopped.
Caleb was alive. Smiling at him like this was just another ordinary day. No shattered ether channels or the lifeless body that Aren had to drag out of the mud.
After a while, Aren finally replied.
"...I’m fine," he said at last. "Just didn’t sleep well."
Caleb dropped into the seat beside him, resting his arms on the desk.
"But co on," he continued, eyes brightening. "You couldn’t sleep because you’re excited, right? Today’s Awakening."
Aren didn’t answer imdiately.
In his mories, Caleb had said those sa words.
It had been the last ti he’d sounded so hopeful.
"You’ve got nothing to worry about," Caleb added easily. "You study harder than anyone. Your Bloodline’s definitely going to be good."
Aren’s fingers curled slowly against the edge of the desk.
You had a good one, and yet...
Aren tilted his head. "What? Don’t tell you’re nervous."
"No," Aren said quietly. "Just... thinking."
Caleh laughed. "Man, you always think too much."
He leaned back, one hand slipping behind his head as his gaze drifted across the classroom.
"Well, for all I know, you might even end up with sothing better than that stuck-up young master, Jakob."
He snorted, then grinned. "And hey, I can’t wait to see what Luna Stone gets. She’s the school beauty, after all. Maybe sothing cute—like a rabbit."
A student nearby scoffed.
"Are you serious?" soone muttered. "That’s the Ice Princess you’re talking about."
Caleb shrugged. "What? I’m just saying—"
"She’ll definitely awaken sothing cold," the student said flatly. "That’s just how she is."
Aren didn’t join the laughter.
His eyes flicked briefly toward Luna’s seat. She sat straight, silently eating as the rest of the classroom chatted around her.
Her blue eyes seed to look at nothing, but for a second, just a second, she made eye contact with him, before turning away.
Cold, he thought.
The classroom door slid open unexpectedly, even the other students had to scramble to their seat as fast as possible.
A man in a military uniform stepped inside, his broad back and nicely trimd goatee was intimidating to the students.
He made his way to the teacher’s stand.
"I am Captain Eric," he said calmly. "I will be overseeing today’s Bloodline Awakening."
He set a tal case down on the teacher’s desk and opened it with a quiet click.
Inside rested a small, circular device, etched with strange seals and letters all around it.
"This is an Amplifier," Captain Eric continued. "It will resonate with your ether and guide you toward your bloodline."
His gaze swept across the room once.
"We’ll begin imdiately."
The teacher cleared her throat.
"Jakob, you’re first."
Jakob rose from his seat with a cocky grin as he walked to the front. His tied-back blonde hair and bright green eyes radiated confidence across the room.
A few students whispered.
"The Thomas family..."
"He’s definitely getting sothing good."
Jakob Thomas placed his hand on the resonance amplifier without hesitation.
ether flowed smoothly from him, far more abundant than most. The device responded instantly.
Above the amplifier, light gathered and took form.
A falcon erged, its wings wrapped in harsh winds as it circled around before disappearing a bit later.
Captain Eric studied the projection before nodding.
"Falcon-type," he announced. "Excellent control and mobility. Not bad for a non-military family."
A satisfied smile ca from Jakob’s lips as he walked back to his seat, straightening his collar as he sat.
"Next, Luna Stone."
Conversations died instantly as she rose without a word. She walked elegantly to the front, expression dull, like she was walking into an exam instead of a once-in-a-lifeti awakening.
Her pale white hair, along with cold blue eyes really gave the impression that everyone else wasn’t in the sa league—no, the sa world as her.
Captain Eric nodded at her as she gave a nod back.
"The Stone family..."
"Of course it’s her."
"She hasn’t even looked nervous once."
Luna stopped before the amplifier and placed her hand upon it.
The tal frosted instantly.
Light gathered, not into the shape of a beast, but into a figure.
A tall and elegant woman, her form carved from translucent ice jade, robes flowing like frozen silk.
Captain Eric’s expression changed.
For the first ti since he had entered the room, he did not speak imdiately.
"...A Spirit-type Bloodline" he said at last, voice noticeably slower.
"Extrely rare. As expected from the Commander’s daughter..."
She withdrew her hand and calmly returned to her seat, not even surprised. Even Jakob’s confident smile had stiffened.
But Aren noticed sothing most didn’t, as she sat, a small sigh of relief escaped her.
The teacher let the murmurs die down before speaking again.
"...Next."
Her gaze shifted over to him.
"Aren Cross."
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