The sky didn’t warn us.

  One moment, the clouds were just clouds—dull and lazy, the kind that made Kaito yawn and say "Rain’s coming" like he’d invented the weather. The next, the wind kicked up like a spooked horse, and the air smelled like hot iron.

  Ren dropped his hammer. "That’s not right."

  Kaito squinted at the horizon. "Since when do storms roll in uphill?"

  Ma’s voice cracked from the porch. "Barn. Now."

  We ran.

  The first hailstone hit Widow Hana’s fence post dead-on, snapping it like a twig. The second clipped my shoulder, sharp enough to make me hiss. By the third, even the chickens were bolting for cover.

  "Leave ’em!" Ma barked as I lunged for the coop.

  "But the—"

  A hailstone the size of my fist slammed into the ground where I’d been standing.

  Right.

  We barely got the barn doors shut before the storm really woke up. The wind screamed like a butchered pig, and the walls groaned like old bones. Kaito and Ren threw their weight against the beam, but the wood was splintering.

  Then—crack—a hailstone punched through the roof.

  It hit Ren square in the back.

  He went down hard, blood already darkening his shirt.

  "Ren!" Ma was on her knees beside him, pressing her apron to the wound. But the red just kept coming, too fast, too much—

  Something in my chest twisted.

  My hands moved before I could think, grabbing Ren’s arm. Not to pull him up. Not to steady him. Just… holding on.

  And then—

  Light.

  Not the kind from lanterns or lightning. This was warm, like Ma’s oven on bread day, like the first sip of soup after a freeze. It spilled from my fingers, slow and stubborn, seeping into Ren’s skin like water into parched dirt.

  The bleeding stopped.

  The wound closed.

  Kaito’s mouth hung open. "Hiro. What the hell?"

  Ren gasped, staring at his now-smooth skin. "Did you just—?"

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  I didn’t get to answer.

  The beam snapped.

  The barn doors exploded inward.

  And outside, in the eye of the storm—

  Someone was watching.

  A figure stood at the edge of the field, untouched by the chaos. Hooded. Still. Hailstones veered around them like they were made of glass.

  My gut lurched. Not fear—recognition. The kind you get when you spot a wolf in the trees before it spots you.

  They tilted their head. "Healing first?" A voice like gravel and grave dirt. "That’ll make it worse."

  Lightning flashed.

  When my eyes cleared—

  Gone.

  The storm quit soon after, like it’d gotten what it came for.

  Silence settled over the farm, thick as Ma’s oat porridge.

  Ren flexed his back, staring at the unbroken skin. "So. Magic, huh?"

  Kaito punched my shoulder. "Told you you cared too damn much."

  Ma just looked at me, her face unreadable.

  And I knew—

  This changed everything.

  The kitchen smelled like burnt oats and something worse—silence.

  Ma hadn’t spoken since the storm. Just stabbed the firewood, dumped the ruined porridge, and started over, her knuckles bone-white around the spoon. Ren sat stiff-backed by the hearth, prodding his unmarked skin like it might peel off. Kaito spun a copper coin on the table, his usual grin nowhere in sight.

  I cleared my throat. "So."

  Three heads snapped toward me.

  "Magic," Kaito said, flipping the coin. "Huh."

  Ren rolled his shoulder. "Useful."

  Ma slammed the spoon down. "Dangerous."

  The fire crackled. Outside, the last raindrops tapped the roof like impatient fingers.

  Kaito leaned in. "So what’s the plan? Chain him to the well? Sell him to that circus with the two-headed goat?"

  "Grand Academy," Ma said, like the words tasted bitter.

  The coin froze mid-spin.

  Ren nodded. "Only place that makes sense."

  I blinked. "The what?"

  Ma shoved a fresh bowl of porridge at me. "Eat. You look like a plucked chicken." (I didn’t.) "The Grand Academy. South, past the Blackridge Peaks. Only school that takes kids like you."

  "Kids who glow?"

  "Kids who matter," Kaito corrected, smirking. "Also, it’s free. And they feed you actual meat. And—"

  "It’s not just a school," Ren cut in. "Built by the gods themselves, they say. Neutral ground. No kings, no wars—just learning."

  Ma’s eyes flicked to the hearth. "And testing. If your power’s what I think…"

  "Which is?"

  Silence.

  Kaito drummed his fingers. "She means if you’re Marked, genius. Like in the old tales. Divine pick."

  The fire spat.

  Ma’s jaw tightened. "Eat your damn porridge."

  2 years passed stubbornly, like they knew I wasn’t ready.

  Ma packed enough food for a month, though the Academy was a week’s ride. Ren slipped his second knife into my pack without a word. Kaito “forgot” his good cloak on my bed.

  At the gate, Ma gripped my face, her thumbs rough against my cheeks. "Listen sharp. Work hard. Don’t trust anyone who bows too deep."

  "Yes, Ma."

  "And remember—" She shoved a cloth-wrapped bundle into my hands. "You’re no one’s weapon until you choose the fight."

  Inside: her silver locket, the one she never took off. Inside that: a tiny portrait of a man with my stubborn chin.

  I swallowed. "I’ll bring it back."

  She smacked my head. "You’d better."

  Then she turned me toward the road, where Old Haruto’s mule cart waited to take me to the crossroads.

  Kaito slung an arm around my neck. "Try not to outshine all the noble brats. Might make ’em cry."

  Ren just nodded. "We’ll keep things standing."

  And just like that—

  I walked away from the only home I’d ever known.

  Toward a place built by gods.

  Toward a truth I wasn’t ready for.

  Toward the Academy.