Following the announcement, chaos was the only word for what came next.

  No matter how hard Headmaster Stovall pressed, he could no longer silence the masses without crushing them beneath his will. My tremor sense painted the scene for me in startling intimacy. I felt every shout, every stamp of feet, every heartbeat spiking with fury or fear.

  I had known some of this already from my meeting with the headmasters the day before. Yet the tournament, the mixed classes, and the dangerous hunts were as much a shock to me as to anyone else.

  Around me, the air pulsed with outrage. Nobles bristled at the thought of losing power; for now, they would be forced to compete against the finest students of other nations. This was no longer a school to polish titles. It was a battlefield where position would be earned instead of inherited.

  One figure stood out in the storm. The blond boy who had baited me before the ceremony wore a pleased smirk that cut like poison. Around him sat others who unsettled me even more. Beneath the uproar I felt something foul and thin, a sickly aetheric undertone that clung to them in a haze I could not quite see. It reminded me of death lingering in disguise.

  The room boiled over. Students surged toward the doors, desperate to be the first to carry word home. Others shouted or argued, their voices climbing against one another. A handful sat unmoved, their calm betraying knowledge of the truth before it was spoken. Displeasure and delight tangled together, splitting the hall in jagged lines.

  My gaze shifted to the faculty tier. Several seats stood empty, their absence glaring. It seemed not every teacher had agreed to this new vision. Some had already been dismissed, judged by the same standard that would now be set before us. Adapt, or be cast aside.

  Yet while the uproar grew, I felt an unexpected stillness settle in me.

  Dusk perched lightly on my shoulder, her golden eyes sweeping the room with innocent curiosity. She looked as though she did not understand the fuss, but her steady presence calmed me. I was not alone in this trial.

  And more than that, I was not unprepared. Thorn’s discipline had carved patience into me. Sirius’s relentless sparring had hardened my body. Asher’s wisdom had sharpened my mind. Those foundations had been set deep. My hands knew the weight of blades until they felt like my own bones. I had pressed my throwing knives and my twin daggers to the edge of mastery, as far as my training could reach at my age and stage of development.

  There would always be more to learn, more to sharpen, more to test. Yet I had already woven my instincts with the strange gifts of regeneration and tremor sense, gifts that pushed me far beyond the path most boys my age could walk.

  So while the room raged, I sat still. To others, this was chaos. To me, it was simply another trial. I had faced many already. Life without my parents had been the hardest of them, and nothing here felt as heavy as that loss.

  Now I had a companion at my side, a fragile but hopeful bond in Dusk. She would follow me through whatever storms might come. Her presence steadied me, her quiet breaths reminding me that even broken wings could carry meaning.

  Instead of dread, I felt a spark of anticipation. The thought of meeting students from other races stirred something inside me. Curiosity and excitement. What friendships might be made? What parties formed? What strength could grow when sharpened against such diversity?

  I had no noble house and no powerful lineage to shield me. Yet it did not feel like a disadvantage. To me, it was an opening, a chance to rise on my own terms and prove my worth amidst the chaos. The world was shifting, and with it the order that Velmine and the other nations had long clung to.

  It took nearly an hour for the hall to clear. I stayed where I was, flipping my knife in my hand, waiting for the tide of bodies to thin enough to let me slip out.

  My senses swept the room again and again, marking details, filing away faces, voices, and movements that might matter later. When chaos ensues, it is often the smallest things that prove most useful.

  I felt Asher before I saw him, his steady gait brushing against the edges of my tremor sense. Throughout the ceremony, I had caught sight of owls tucked high in the rafters, watching from shadowed beams. As the crowd dispersed, they had slipped silently into the air, leaving with the departing voices. Only now did I understand what Stovall meant when he spoke of the comfort of having Asher near.

  “Come on, kid,” Asher said, his tone half brisk, half warm. “I want to introduce you to some people before I am swallowed by other responsibilities.”

  I stood and fell into step beside him.

  “Asher,” I said after a pause, “there was a tall blond student. Blue eyes. Silver aetheric shield on his back, long sword at his hip. He confronted me before the ceremony. His presence felt… wrong. Sickly. Like poison. The people around him felt almost like aetheric death or something. Do you know who he is?”

  For a moment, Asher said nothing. Then his face hardened, the easy grin fading into a rare frown.

  “I would assume you crossed paths with Luceran, heir of House Arrogane,” he said slowly. “They hold some of the strongest shard assimilations and most advanced aetheric techniques in the kingdom. One of the great houses that powerful, feared, and utterly secretive.”

  We kept walking, though his voice grew more measured. “The Arroganes rarely deal openly with other houses. They are mistrusted by nearly everyone, but their strength forces others to work with them. Their alchemy is unrivaled, and that alone secures their place. But cruelty follows them like a shadow. The family buries it well, hiding what they do not want known. Still, my information network is close to the best. And if the rumors of Luceran are true… it is worse than most suspect.”

  He glanced sideways at me, eyes narrowed. “If he has taken an interest in you, Bryn, that is not good.”

  I swallowed hard, then muttered, “He called me the prince’s pet.”

  Asher stopped dead in his tracks. His expression darkened.

  “…it seems some nobles have been keeping closer watch on the princes than I thought. I will need to inform the king. You must be wary of Luceran. At least until you have allies, friends, or a war party to stand with you. I do not doubt that your combat skill places you among the most capable first years. What you lack in aetheric weaving, you balance with raw skill and assimilation abilities. Few here will have been trained by anyone as skilled as Thorn or myself, though many will have sharpened their skills in single weapons or styles. You are more well-rounded than most, even if your strength lie primarily in small blades, regeneration, and senses.”

  “I will try to avoid the Arroganes,” I said. Then I caught myself smiling. “But hearing about the tournament actually made me excited. I want to test myself against the best of the other nations. This feels like more of an opportunity for me than for most nobles. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

  “That is the right perspective to have,” Asher said with a faint nod. “There is more upside for you than for many. Ah, here we are.”

  We wove through a maze of halls before stopping at an unassuming door. Plain, almost like a broom closet. Yet even here, the simplest detail carried a craftsmanship that eclipsed anything I had known. It would have made for the most beautiful broom closet door I had ever seen, though still subdued compared to the lavish doors lining the corridor.

  Asher pressed a hand to the wood, muttered something low. My tremor sense caught the ripple as aetheric light traced the frame. When the latch turned and the door swung wide, I froze.

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  Beyond the threshold stretched another world.

  It was a forest city. Towering trees, redwoods from the guild texts came to mind, though these dwarfed even those, rose like pillars into the heavens. Their colossal trunks had been hollowed into homes and halls, the canopy laced with bridges that linked one living tower to another. High above, woven into the crowns of the giants, rose structures shaped like castles, their forms reminiscent of the Academy of Ascension itself.

  “Welcome to Elderbough Academy,” Asher said as he stepped through, motioning for me to follow. “One of the great elven academies. It stood long before our empire was even a thought.”

  As I followed, my mouth hung open in awe. The world beyond the threshold was alive in ways I had never known. Dusk shifted restlessly on my shoulder, feathers flaring as her golden eyes scanned the majestic forest. She had become restless with energy, drinking in the air like it was nectar.

  The ground itself seemed to pulse beneath my feet. Aether thrummed upward through the roots and branches, weaving through stone and leaf until it wrapped around me. It was intoxicating. For a moment, I felt as though I could split the sky with my bare hands. The feeling dulled as we marched forward, but the echo of it stayed, simmering beneath my skin.

  At the foot of a towering tree ahead stood a tall elf. His long hair, golden brown, caught the light as though it had been brushed with sunlight. He smiled at Asher and then turned his gaze on me.

  “Asher!” the elf called warmly. “Glad you could make it.” His eyes shifted toward me with curious appraisal. “And who is this?”

  Asher clapped his arm in greeting. “Elorian, always good to see you, my friend.” He tilted his head toward me. “This is Bryn. A first-year at the Academy of Ascension. He has been under my care for the past ten years. I wanted to introduce him to you and a few others before the term begins. You will be teaching there, and I want him to have people he can trust when I am not around.”

  Elorian’s eyes softened as he looked at me again. He nodded once, slowly. “If he is under your charge, then he will be like a younger brother to me. Anything for the Razorwing,” he added with a smirk.

  I swallowed hard. The words caught in my throat. It struck me that I was standing before an elf. Not in a book. Not in a story. Flesh and blood. People I had only ever read of in history and whispered tales, now looking straight into me.

  Before I could stop myself, the words rushed out. “You’re… you’re an elf.” My voice cracked with disbelief.

  The statement hung in the air, clumsy and raw. Heat flooded my cheeks, but I pressed on. “It is an honor. I do not even know the right words, but it is a pleasure to meet you, Master Elorian.”

  Elorian studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then a faint smile curved his lips. “Honest wonder is worth more than polished flattery. You speak as one unafraid to see the world as it is. Keep that, Bryn. And keep your tongue steady. Elves are many things, but strangers we are not. Call me Elorian, nothing more.”

  My chest tightened with relief, and I nodded quickly. “Yes… Elorian.”

  Asher chuckled under his breath. “Careful, my friend. If you encourage him too much, he might start thinking elves are gentle.”

  Elorian shot him a sharp glance, though the corner of his mouth betrayed amusement. “And if you keep talking, Razorwing, I may remind your young charge of how reckless you were the first time you stood before these trees. I seem to recall you tried to impress the Elders by loosing an arrow at one of our guardian wards. Nearly burned your eyebrows off.”

  Asher winced, holding up a hand. “In my defense, I was younger, braver, and significantly less wise. Besides, the eyebrows grew back.”

  “Pity,” Elorian said dryly. “You might have been easier to look at without them.”

  I blinked, unsure if he was serious. Asher laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. “Do not mind him. Elves have lifetimes to sharpen their wit on each other. He only jests because he likes us.”

  Elorian gave a small shrug but did not disagree. Instead, he turned toward the platform. With a quiet chant in his own tongue, his voice mingled with the groan of living wood. The vines tightened, and the platform began to rise.

  In moments we were climbing past the massive trunks, the world spreading wide beneath us. The canopy opened into bridges and halls, dwellings carved into the living trees, and high above it all, towers shaped like a crown upon the forest. At last, the lift steadied, and we stepped onto the steps of the academy grounds.

  From there, Asher and Elorian led me into a chamber grown from the heartwood of a colossal tree. Light spilled through woven branches above, dappling the floor in shifting green and gold. A handful of elves lounged around the central table, but my attention locked onto one figure in particular.

  She was younger than the rest, though still carrying the poise of her kin. It was not her posture that gave her away but her eyes, bright and hungry, eager in a way that felt startlingly new. Through my tremor sense I caught other subtle differences. Where the others radiated the influence and steadiness of years, she pulsed with the vibrant energy of beginnings, as if her very being hummed with fresh life.

  When we arrived, the room stirred. Food and drink were laid out, and Asher began to introduce me. Some of those gathered were to serve as new professors. Others were guards who would soon take their post at the Academy of Ascension.

  The young elf, I learned, was a new first-year student. She was the youngest daughter of the Elderbough Headmaster, who was also the Elven King of Fayrwynn.

  Because of course, she had to be a princess.

  We did not exchange words, but more than once I felt her gaze trace the length of my pale left arm. Through tremor sense I caught the flicker of her curiosity as her eyes lingered on the scars that matched it, even when I turned my head away.

  The meal did not last long. Asher’s intent was simple: to place me among faces I could trust, knowing he might not be physically present beyond the early weeks. When at last we rose to leave, a knot of disappointment tightened in my chest. I longed to wander further, to lose myself in the halls and branches of Elderbough. But Asher was firm. The tournament loomed, and I needed my focus clear.

  He walked me back to my dorm before parting for his other responsibilities.

  I sat on the narrow bed, the lamplight casting long shadows against the plain walls of my dorm. The noise of the academy had faded into quiet, though every so often I could feel the faint reverberations of hurried footsteps through my tremor sense. My body was still, but my mind refused to rest. Too much had changed in too little time, and now the week ahead loomed before me like a chasm I had to cross.

  I needed a plan.

  The headmasters had not spoken lightly. This was no longer the Noble Academy of old, where titles and bloodlines did the work of building legacies. This was the Academy of Ascension, and its trials would burn away everything weak or false. I could not afford to walk into the coming week unprepared.

  First, I reminded myself, I had to breathe. The past days had been a storm of revelations: Sirius revealed as a prince, my shard integration laid bare, the academy remade in ways that shocked everyone. All of it threatened to crush me under its weight. But if I carried it one step at a time, it became manageable. Survival had taught me that much.

  The first two days would be orientation. The Code of Concord. Rules for dueling. Codes for conduct. Every noble in that hall would be looking for cracks in the new system, ways to twist the law to their favor. If I was careless, I could give them the very excuse they needed to strike. I decided then I would try to memorize it. Every word, every clause. I wanted to know the rules so well that if someone came for me, I could wield them like a blade.

  In the evenings, I would return to what I knew best. Training. My knives. The repetition that Thorn had drilled into me until my arms felt like they would fall off. Sirius sparring with me until my lungs burned. Asher testing my instincts in ways that made me curse him in the moment but thank him later. Those patterns had steadied me before, and they would steady me again.

  The middle of the week would demand more. The tournament loomed large, and I could not walk into it blind. I thought of Dusk, still young, still wounded, perched on the edge of my desk as I looked over at her. She ruffled her feathers as if sensing my thoughts. Our bond was fragile, not yet tested, but I needed to deepen it. Even if her wing never healed, her eyes, her instincts, her presence could be an advantage. She might not fight for me, but she could anchor me, sharpen my senses further, remind me I was not as alone as I once was.

  I would also study the parchment Aurelia had given me. The sample readout. Mine had been strange, half incomprehensible, but if I understood the standard format, I could begin to guess how others would be measured. Knowledge could give me a sharper edge than even steel.

  Asher’s warning about the nobles weighed on me, too. Luceran of House Arrogane. Poison in his words, poison in his presence. If he truly had noticed me, then I needed allies. I decided I would watch carefully during meals and in the courtyards. There had to be others who stood apart, others like me without banners and shields of lineage. Outsiders. If I could find them, we might stand together when the trials came.

  Toward the end of the week, I would scout. Walk the halls, map them with my tremor sense. Learn as much as I could about the environment I would be in for most of my time over the next few years.

  And the final day before it began, I would rest. That part was hard for me. My habit was to push, to grind myself against exhaustion until sleep took me. But I had learned enough to know that stepping into the fire already worn down was foolish. A tired mind wields a dull blade. I needed my clarity, my focus. I needed to walk into that arena knowing I had done everything I could.

  I leaned back against the wall, my thoughts slowing as the plan took shape.

  No noble house. No proud lineage. No shield of blood or title. I had none of those things, but that did not feel like weakness. For me, it meant freedom. Nothing to lose. Everything to gain.

  The world was changing, and so was I. The Academy of Ascension would test me, perhaps break me, but I would step into it with eyes open. Whatever else happened, I would not let the future come and find me unprepared.