The rest of our journey was uneventful, and we arrived at Roxarry early on the third day. Towering spires, crafted from smooth grey stone and capped with silver, pierced the sky, their sharp edges softened by creeping vines that hinted at nature’s presence. I was somewhat surprised to see that the academy wasn’t built from trees, but given that it was meant to support humans and other magical beasts with varying abilities and needs, it made sense that the academy was built like a fortress instead of a part of Sylvani culture.
We were greeted at the gates and once Caspian confirmed that I was here to enter the fighting course, I was quickly led away from the carriage and my guards. Caspian had already told me at breakfast that we wouldn’t see each other again and that he would simply be around as a spectator unless he was called back to Naera. As soon as I passed, all of my belongings would be moved to a room for noble students, and Caspian would leave. He did ask if I wanted him to tell my mother my rank and I eventually told him to do what he wanted. I knew my mother would want to know, but it wasn’t something I cared about.
Walking through the interior courtyard, I continued silently, letting my eyes trace the massive archways that ringed the open square. The courtyard was a blend of harsh discipline and subtle magic, the stonework so precise it bordered on artistry. I could easily imagine that once classes were in session, it would be alive with both talk and magic as students engaged and networked with one another. But for now, it was haunted and empty, and I followed the attendant in front of me as he led me down one of the paths.
Eventually we walked into another building and I was led to a large room, already filled with some of the other prospective students. Most seemed to be keeping to themselves but I did notice some seem to already be forming groups, chatting and jostling lightly like they already knew one another. It didn’t take long for me to realize that we were all the same age but it also didn’t surprise me; based on what Trietitia had said, being thirteen was a requirement to apply and Roxarry didn’t allow second attempts if you failed the entrance exam. We all only had one shot to attend.
The attendant soon left me in the room, and I made my way to one of the far corners, somewhere I could see the rest of the room easily. As I walked, it was easy to tell most of the candidates were human, but the faint scent of the ocean told me there were some sea-folk as well. There were also other non-human scents I didn’t recognize, but I didn’t pay them much attention. They didn’t smell like anything dangerous, so whatever they were, they weren’t my concern.
I leaned against the cold stone wall and let my gaze drift lazily over the room, not really watching so much as listening. It was annoying that there was nowhere for me to hide so I could use my horns, but one of the things Cyldri had taught me was how to selectively listen without them. My horns were better for picking up the sounds, but since I finally had dragon blood, my ears were starting to change shape and I closed my eyes, gently stroking my ear as I focused to find anything interesting to hear.
“Heard the princess is attending this year,” a voice caught my attention and I did my best to focus on their conversation over the steady noise. “Never thought we’d see her ‘shy highness’ stoop down to attend school with the rest of us.”
“You’re just mad you haven’t gotten to see her form yet,” another voice, a girl this time, spoke up, clearly teasing. “You want to know what kind of sea beast sired her.”
“Well, duh! You know how rare it is for the Sovereign to have a sea-folk child and her father didn’t even return to the sea to die.” The first person shot back and I scoffed as I realized they were talking about Tritetia. “My brother always talks about the funeral procession they had to carry his body back to the ocean. That’s never been done before in Aehorus and no one knows what he was under the sheet.”
“Well, maybe he had his reasons. After all, he was old, and everyone knew he was gonna die soon,” another girl spoke up, her voice relaxed and regal, as if she was a noble or at least saw herself as one. “You know how the deep sea beasts can be. Beautiful as a human, but their forms leave much to be desired.”
“Well, sorry that all of us aren’t sired by lionfish, Etia. How did your dad do it anyway? Your mother’s spines should have–”
“H-hey! You know that’s rude to ask!” Her indignant reaction caused a laugh among the group and I was about to tune them out when the first girl spoke again.
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“Well, I mean, it’s still weird that she goes to Naera every summer instead of staying for the Festival,” she admitted, calming down the laughter with her words. “I mean, it’s when we all learn how to use our magic before coming here. But she keeps avoiding it.”
A silence fell over the group, and I could feel the way they all seemed to shift, uncertain now that the teasing had skirted too close to truth. They hadn’t meant to ask something serious—but the weight of the question lingered.
“Her father is dead.” A new voice said at last. It was quieter, but not afraid. The tone cut through the awkward pause with the kind of certainty that demanded attention. “There is no one to teach her anymore, so why would she go? Just to be reminded of what she lost?”
I opened my eyes, glancing around to try and find the group. It took a while, but I finally managed to pick them out from the humans by the shimmering of one of the girl’s hair. They all sat together on the ground save for one, and I studied him for a moment as he looked down at the others. His hair was black like mine, but it was a lot curlier, framing his face almost like a forest. His eyes were brown, but carried a weight that seemed too similar to an adult’s.
“That’s not her fault,” he continued, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “And if she’s anything like her mother, then none of you want to test what she’s capable of, even if she doesn’t go to the Festival.”
“But aren’t you a little curious Zivi? I mean, you’ve been to the palace several times, learning from her mother to become the next Sovereign,” the relaxed girl spoke up, and I realized quickly she was the one with the shimmering pink hair. “Surely you want to know what she is too.”
Zivi stayed silent for a moment, and I took a moment to memorize his appearance and voice. He was the one Tritetia came here to see; she only remembered him from her dream-memories as the one who replaced her mother, and had never gotten to know him before, despite the fact they attended the academy at the same time. That meant that in the previous timeline, he became the new Sovereign at seventeen and Tritetia said while he always seemed respectful, there was something off about him she never understood.
This time, we needed to know what that was.
Zivi shifted his weight and dropped into a crouch beside the others, elbows resting on his knees. His expression didn’t change much, but there was a flicker of something sharp behind his eyes—something older than it should’ve been for someone our age. Not cruel, not calculating. Just… careful.
“She’ll tell us what she wants to,” he said finally. “Or she won’t. Either way, it’s not our place to ask.”
The others muttered their agreement, though it was clearly more out of respect for Zivi than any personal conviction. Still, the teasing didn’t pick back up, and the group fell into a looser, quieter rhythm. It made sense that they assumed she was avoiding it to hide her form, but I knew it likely had more to do with no one finding out she wasn’t a girl. I didn’t know enough about sea beasts or even sea creatures to know if there was a difference between male and female eels, but another sea beast or even sea folk would have noticed immediately. Vivirena was avoiding the reveal that Tritetia was a male seer by setting the precedent that Tritetia spent her summers in Naera, so that now, it didn’t seem as strange she suddenly disappeared during the festival.
A loud chime rang out from the archway above the doors, and the conversations cut off immediately. Magic surged down the runes etched into the stone frame, glowing briefly before flaring once with a pulse of light. The heavy doors parted, creaking open as a tall instructor stepped forward, a Sylvani man with flowing purple hair. His expression was sharp and I picked up immediately on the subtle weight of authority that settled over the room with his presence. He didn’t need to raise his voice—he just looked at us, and the tension snapped into silence.
“The roster has been finalized,” he said, his voice cool and clear, echoing slightly off the vaulted stone ceiling. “Only the top sixteen will be admitted into the Fighting Course. The rules of combat are simple; to win without harm. Otherwise, you may use whatever tactics you know.”
As he spoke, he raised his hand, and I finally noticed there was a section of smooth stone next to him. As he motioned to it, a bracket appeared, revealing who would be facing who. Some of the candidates moved closer to read, but I stayed where I was, watching the others react first. Several groaned quietly or exchanged nervous glances, others puffed up, trying to mask their tension behind cocky smirks or whispered bets. No one was laughing anymore and the bracket shimmered faintly with residual magic, names written in elegant script that pulsed softly with light.
I didn’t care who I was facing; I wasn’t here to see how I measured against the other students. I was here for answers, to learn what I had done to time when I made my wish. To know why things were so different and yet the same. To learn why someone was trying to kill Draconids.
“Trohka and Albinet will report to the arena.” With that, the instructor turned and I finally pushed off the wall. I noticed another door opposite of where he had entered as it opened and I walked that way, ignoring the glances of the other students. Caspian’s words to me in the carriage echoed in my mind, and I allowed myself a small smirk, stepping outside to face my opponent.
