The rain came down like judgment, heavy and unrelenting, as though the sky itself wanted to silence the world.
Seventeen-year-old Kairo Vale sat by the edge of the dormitory rooftop, legs dangling over the stone ledge of Elythera Academy of Spoken Arts—a school built on clouds and floating stone, tethered to the mainland by silver chains and invisible pacts. Beneath him, the entire city of Elythera shimmered with floating lanterns and cascading waterfalls that drifted mid-air like reversed gravity.
But he didn't notice the beauty.
He didn't care.
Because today, they had broken his last string.
"Kairo! Did you think silence made you invincible?" a voice echoed behind him.
It was Professor Nareth, a strict spell-caster who valued volume over virtue. He stood with a glare sharp enough to cut steel.
Kairo didn't respond. He never did.
"You failed the Spell Resonance Exam. Again. You haven't spoken a single word since enrollment. Do you want to be expelled?"
The word hung in the air like a knife.
Expelled—which for an orphan like Kairo meant being thrown off Elythera's floating platform. Back to the world below. To the slums. To the silence of survival.
Still, he said nothing.
The professor's lip curled. "Fine. You'll be evaluated one last time tomorrow. If you can't cast even a basic Flame Word… you're gone."
He turned and walked away.
The rain kept falling.
Kairo remained still. But inside… something stirred.
A whisper.
Not from the outside world—but from within.
> "Say it."
Kairo's eyes widened.
Not a voice he remembered. But familiar. Old. Heavy. It echoed in his bones like thunder trapped in a cage.
He shook his head. He wasn't crazy. Just… quiet.
> "Say it. Let them hear. Let the world kneel once more."
No. He wouldn't.
Couldn't.
Not again.
He clenched his fists. Breathing uneven.
Memories surged—of a fire that once swallowed a city whole… of voices screaming… of a single word he didn't remember saying.
The word that killed a god.
Kairo had been five.
And ever since then… he hadn't spoken again.
He stood, ready to leave the rooftop.
But then he heard it.
A scream.
From below.
A girl, cornered in an alley. Three upperclassmen. Bullying? No. Worse.
Kairo moved.
Fast.
Down the stairs. Through the hall. Out into the lower tiers of the academy.
And there she was.
Lyra Aldemire—the girl with snow-white hair and silver eyes, daughter of a famous family. Pinned against a wall by three boys who thought their lineage gave them the right to touch what didn't belong to them.
Kairo stepped into the alley.
They turned.
One of them laughed. "Oh look, the mute dog wants to bark."
Kairo didn't blink.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't speak.
They came at him.
And in that moment—he whispered.
A single word.
Soft. Barely audible. But the world heard.
> "Fall."
And they did.
All three of them collapsed to the ground as if gravity had tripled, bones cracking, breath stolen. One tried to scream but choked on silence.
Kairo stood still. Eyes glowing faintly—just for a second—then dulling.
Lyra stared at him in horror and awe.
"Kairo… what are you?"
He didn't answer.
But far, far above—in the cloud temple of the God of Silence, a single bell rang.
The monks fell to their knees.
A seer clutched his head, bleeding from the eyes.
And a voice echoed across the divine veil:
> "The Voiceborn has spoken. The Seals have cracked."