Rebirth of a Fey Lord

The classroom bustled with an air of excitement as Eogan and Lorcan took their seats. Professor Faelan, a tall figure with sharp features and an enigmatic presence, stood at the front of the room. His voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable authority that demanded attention.

"This is the study of fey lore," Faelan began, his piercing gaze scanning the room. "It is not merely an academic exercise but a necessary foundation for understanding the magic you seek to wield. Fey magic, while alluring, is perilous. Contracts with the fey are binding, often to disastrous ends. Control is paramount."

The room grew silent, the weight of Faelan's words settling heavily. The wooden desks gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the high, arched windows, casting intricate patterns on the stone floor. Students whispered nervously, their conversations quickly stifled by Faelan's commanding presence.

Eogan sat up straighter, his interest piqued. The professor spoke of the ancient war against Fergus Mor, the fey lord who was once called the Lord of Monsters. He painted a picture of conflict and chaos, where taming magic and elemental forces were turned against humanity. Yet, to Eogan, the lecture felt incomplete, as if critical details were deliberately omitted.

Leanan, unseen to the rest of the class, flitted to Eogan's shoulder and whispered in his ear. "He's leaving out the part where they betrayed us first. Typical human bias."

Eogan suppressed a smirk, but his mind churned with memories—fragmented and fleeting—of his life as a fey lord. The resonance between Faelan's words and his own recollections unsettled him. His hands clenched the edge of his desk as he tried to focus.

After the lecture, the students were led to the outdoor training grounds, a vast expanse encircled by towering stone walls and enchanted runes that shimmered faintly in the sunlight. Faelan stood in the center, his hands clasped behind his back.

"We will test your affinity with elemental magic," Faelan announced. His gaze settled on Eogan. "Step forward."

Eogan hesitated, his pulse quickening. He could feel the weight of dozens of eyes on him as he walked to the center of the training grounds. His heart pounded in his chest, but he tried to maintain a calm facade. Faelan gestured toward a series of runic patterns etched into the ground.

"Focus your mana," Faelan instructed. "Summon the wind."

Eogan nodded and extended a hand, his fingers trembling. At first, the air around him stirred gently, forming a soft spiral that danced around his palm. A sense of accomplishment flickered in his chest. But then, without warning, the mana surged. The gentle wind turned into a violent gale, tearing at the grass and scattering leaves in all directions.

"Stop!" Faelan barked, his voice sharp. "Use the runes!"

Eogan couldn't hear him over the roar of the wind. It clawed at him, wild and unrelenting. Panic set in as the energy threatened to tear through the barriers of his mana meridians. His vision blurred, and he felt the weight of his power slipping from his grasp.

"Everyone, back!" Lirien's voice cut through the chaos. The prince moved quickly, herding the students away from the escalating storm. His commanding presence left no room for argument. "Give him space!"

Lorcan hesitated, worry etched across his face. "But—"

"Trust him," Lirien said firmly, placing a reassuring hand on Lorcan's shoulder. "Eogan can handle this. I believe in what he's capable of. Have faith."

Lorcan nodded reluctantly, his gaze never leaving his friend.

"Eogan!" Leanan's voice rang in his mind, clear and urgent. "Feel it—don't fight it. Remember the flow!"

Through the chaos, Eogan closed his eyes and focused inward. Leanan's magic enveloped him like a warm embrace, soothing the storm within. She guided him to sense the mana's rhythm, weaving her essence into his. It was familiar—intimate, like rediscovering a lost melody. With her help, he redirected the wild currents, transforming the destructive gale into a gentle breeze.

The wind softened, lifting Eogan off his feet. He hovered in the air, weightless and serene, as the breeze carried him gently across the training grounds. The chaotic energy subsided, leaving only the whisper of leaves in its wake. When he finally landed, the silence was deafening.

Faelan stepped closer, his expression unreadable. But Eogan saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes—the professor had felt it too. The sensation of fey magic. Faelan's awe was evident, but so was his fear.

"That will be enough for today," Faelan said, his voice tight. "Class dismissed."

As the students dispersed, whispers filled the air. Lorcan approached Eogan, his eyes wide with a mix of amazement and worry. "Eogan, that was—"

"Not here," Eogan interrupted, his gaze darting toward Faelan. The professor lingered by the edge of the grounds, watching him intently. Eogan could feel the weight of his scrutiny, the unspoken questions hanging between them.

Leanan tugged on Eogan's collar. "We need to talk, now."

Eogan nodded subtly, his thoughts a storm of their own. The sensation of mana flowing effortlessly through him still lingered, a tantalizing reminder of what he once commanded. But the raw, unrefined power he had unleashed frightened him as much as it intrigued him.

As he turned to leave, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around to see Faelan, his face grave.

"You're not just any student, are you?" Faelan said, his voice low.

Eogan's heart pounded in his chest. Before he could respond, Faelan added, "We'll discuss this further tomorrow. For now, keep what happened today to yourself."

Faelan's words lingered ominously as Eogan walked away, his mind racing. Leanan flitted anxiously around his head, her usually confident demeanor replaced with unease.

"That man knows too much," she muttered. "You need to be careful."

"I know," Eogan replied under his breath. He glanced back at the training grounds, where Faelan still stood, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The professor's demeanor had shifted, and Eogan couldn't help but wonder what the man truly knew.

As they rounded a corner, Lorcan broke the silence. "Eogan, what was that back there? That wasn't... normal."

Eogan hesitated, searching for the right words. "I don't know. But we can't talk about it here."

They walked in silence, the weight of the day pressing heavily on them. A shadow seemed to shift somewhere in the distance, as if watching. Waiting. Eogan's unease grew, a gnawing sense of foreboding settling in his chest. Whatever lay ahead, he knew this was only the beginning.