Today had been a disaster. I was only able to win one of my fights.

  The magic users had completely outclassed me at this stage. My martial prowess and abilities could not stand up to what others were able to do with magic, especially with the difficult terrain changes.

  I had only ever practiced in a city environment, and even that was limited to a small practice field. I tried to finish fights as quickly as possible to overcome my inadequacy, but it was not enough.

  I was beginning to see the limits of what I could do. My skills were best suited for a stealth fighter, or perhaps an agility-based front-line fighter who excelled in a group, keeping the focus of a target.

  Alone in this type of combat, my skills simply were not good enough against magical opponents who could keep me at range, shift the environment, or overwhelm me outright with styles that knife fighting was not built to counter.

  It was becoming clear that I needed to train with other weapons, something I could rely on when dual-wielding knives was not the right match. I had also begun to think through the kinds of shards and aetheric magics that could shore up my weaknesses or help me close the distance between opponents more easily.

  Even with the losses, I was proud of what I had accomplished. The purpose of coming to the academy was to learn and grow, and now it was incredibly clear how much I needed everything that the Academy of Ascension had to offer.

  The worst news, though, was that Luceran Arrogane had won the tournament. His puffed-up egotism was backed by legitimate skill.

  I tried not to linger on Luceran’s victory. My focus needed to be forward.

  Tomorrow would bring the final announcement, and with it, the true beginning. These last two weeks had felt like the longest of my life.

  I was ready to move beyond these duels and into the training that would shape my future.

  —

  “The results of the tournament have been exactly what we hoped for. You all should be proud of making it through the trials and earning your placements for the year,” Headmaster Stovall declared, his voice carrying across the hall.

  Headmistress Aurelia stepped forward, her presence calm and commanding. “You have been divided into three separate groups based on the results. Where once the academy had a three-year track, it now holds three tiers, each with its own path and extended opportunities beyond the initial schooling period.”

  She let her words sink in before continuing. “Each of you will gather your things from your current dorms and report to the administrators. They will give you your new assignments. Specially constructed academy quarters have been prepared according to your tier and year.”

  Stovall returned to close. “You will move to your new placements and take the weekend to prepare for classes, which begin next week. Guides will be waiting to lead you through the proper aetheric doors to the places you will now call home.”

  We were dismissed, but his words kept echoing in my head.

  Although many had traveled here to Aurelith, the Academy of Ascension was not confined to this city. Every major academy across the surrounding empires had been linked together through guarded aetheric doors. Soldiers from each nation kept watch at these thresholds, ensuring order and security.

  The lowest tier for each year would be sent back to their home academies, to continue education and training there. They would have chances to rise in tier the following year, but for now, their path would be apart from the rest.

  The higher tiers had their own academies, each set in a unique location designed for optimal training. The top tier, the one I had qualified for, was positioned near some of the most dangerous dungeons and active portals, offering constant exposure to real threats and the greatest potential rewards.

  This explained why the announcement of the Academy of Ascension had lasted as a secret for so long. Much of the preparation had been hidden in far-off places, beyond the eyes many of the minor noble houses.

  I was beginning to think that the most well-trained and powerful nobles would have known, and their children would have made it into the top tier, which encouraged them also to keep the secret from the others in the nobility to give their heirs a greater chance of success.

  This felt true based on the final day of combat, when I lost against all the higher-level nobles from Aurelith that I encountered.

  First, second, and third years who had earned the top tier would now all be housed together. And placement was not guaranteed forever. Anyone individual could be replaced by another from a lower tier through a competitive points system.

  Everything at the academy would utilize this system. Points could be gained or lost through training, grades, missions, and even conduct. They could be spent on all kinds of things, from buying food different from the regular cafeteria, to purchasing shards for assimilation, or to secure access slots into dungeons and portals during free periods.

  At the end of each year, points would determine who rose, who fell, and who remained where they were.

  The promise of reward had set the academy humming. The top one hundred would be honored, given opportunities others could only dream of, and carry a store of points into the next year.

  The announcement fell like a spark on dry tinder, and the students burned with excitement, whispers rushing from mouth to mouth like wind through leaves.

  I gathered my belongings quickly. There was little to take. Dusk clung to my shoulder, restless and twitching, her golden eyes darting as though she could sense my own anticipation.

  When I turned the corner by my destination, I caught sight of Elorian. His presence steadied me like a stone set in shifting sand. Golden-brown hair caught the torchlight as he stood among a cluster of elven guards, tall and sure, like living towers. Behind them walked Zephyra.

  We had shared almost no words since our duel, yet something passed between us in those quiet nods at the table, a recognition that lingered. Seeing her now, walking in step with her people, gave me a strange courage. For the first time in weeks, I felt less like a boy alone.

  I hurried toward the doorway, determined to cross with them. The guards studied me with measured eyes but moved aside when I showed the token given at my assignment. I was almost across when it struck me.

  The air changed. Sweetness touched with rot. A cloying perfume that carried the stench of death. My tremor sense shuddered. It vanished as quickly as it came, but the face that rose in my mind was Luceran’s. The thought lingered like a thorn as I stepped through.

  What met me on the other side pulled the breath from my lungs.

  The cavern opened vast and endless, as if the earth itself had hollowed a cathedral. Walls glowed with veins of living light, vines and moss burning soft emerald and violet, mushrooms pulsing in pale blues. The ceiling was dusted with algae that shone like constellations, turning the cave into a night sky set within stone.

  The academy grew out of the rock like something that belonged to it. Towers rose from the cavern wall, windows hollowed in spirals, balconies carved as if the stone had bent to the will of patient hands. From every side, doors shimmered open, spilling students into the chamber.

  I saw the familiar faces of elves, dwarves, halflings, orcs, goblins, and marsh-born folk with their scaled skin. There were also many other races I had never laid eyes on before. Some were tall and furred, with eyes like burning coals. Others seemed spun from mist, their outlines trembling as if they belonged half in this world and half in another.

  Companions moved among them: falcons crying overhead, wolves loping beside their masters, serpents that gleamed with jeweled scales, and strange glowing creatures that floated like drifting lanterns. Teachers and guards passed through as well, their bearing marked by the weight of authority.

  The air itself hummed. Threads of aether wove through the space like unseen strings, singing against my skin.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Ahead, a bridge arched across a river that shone with life. Fish glowed beneath the water, their scales flashing like shards of moonlight. The current rushed on until it plunged in a roaring waterfall at the cavern’s edge, a sound that rumbled in my bones.

  The bridge led to gates that stood tall and open. Light poured from them in golden torrents, washing the cavern walls with brilliance. Beyond those gates, the academy itself waited.

  And with it, the next measure of who I was meant to become.

  —

  (Luceran’s POV)

  I watched him pass through the guarded threshold into the new academy, a slow heat curling in my chest. The prince’s favored stray walked as though he belonged among us, as though the ground itself had granted him permission. It almost made me laugh.

  That the orphan had lasted this long was both irritating and satisfying. Irritating, because every step forward defied the failures that should have ended him. Satisfying, because it meant more time. More time to wear him down before the true games began.

  The Arroganes had always waited. While others clung to crowns and guild charters, we prepared in silence, burying our strength until the moment ripened. That moment was near. Soon Velmine would become the foundation of an empire vast enough to smother the stars themselves.

  The shard within me stirred at the thought. The Asharkith’s gift. The Asharkith’s curse. What had once felt like rot had become something far more intoxicating. Its hunger pressed close, intimate and unrelenting, demanding its daily due. At first, I loathed the gnawing need, the choice between feeding it or being consumed. In time, I learned to welcome it. Each offering sharpened my power. Each scream hardened my bones. Each drop of blood burned its way into my veins.

  Father had been right to choose me. The others lacked resolve. They wanted strength without sacrifice, dominion without cost. I never shared that weakness. I accepted the bargain because the promise outweighed the price. The Asharkith would rise, and beneath its shadow, we would rule.

  The image of the prince and his pale-armed companion bound and helpless surfaced unbidden. Vessels emptied to sate my shard’s hunger. The thought carried a quiet thrill, enough to draw a faint smile to my lips.

  But patience. That was the cruel demand now placed upon me. Too many threads remained unfinished. Other nations circled, alliances with the deep races were still unsealed, and my part in the design was not yet complete. The horde could not move until the old gates opened, and I would be among those who turned the key.

  The promise made the waiting bearable. Worth the hunger. Worth the discipline it demanded. The Asharkith’s reign would be long and terrible, and when the dust settled, Velmine would be mine. That was the covenant. That was the prize.

  Until then, I would take my amusements where I could. I would watch the orphan falter beneath my attention. I would remind him that every victory he claimed was only borrowed time. I would let the truth seep into him slowly, that when the real war came, he would not be facing me alone, but the darkness that stood with me.

  The world would kneel. And until it did, I would ensure the boy never forgot that monsters do not live only in distant shadows. Sometimes they sit beside you, smiling, already deciding how best to break you.

  —

  (Sirius POV)

  I spun my spear in another arc, the haft humming as I twisted and flipped through the training hall. Sweat streaked down my arms, dripping onto the stone floor. Adjusting to my new shard assimilations was harder than I expected.

  I had chosen shards that would flow into my spear fighting, ones that let me bend stone and coax vines from the unseen veins of the earth. The gift was potent, but it demanded I relearn everything I knew.

  I lashed a conjured vine across the rafters, felt it catch and hold, and let the momentum fling me through the air. My spear struck as I descended, the tip punching clean through a training dummy. I landed in a roll and came up on my feet again, calling a spear of stone from the ground to replace the one I had left buried.

  My chest heaved as I paused. It had been months since I began this work, months of bending myself to meet the pattern of these new abilities. The vines felt like living extensions of me now, the stone like a soldier I could command with thought.

  I was far from mastery, but the path was beginning to take shape beneath my feet. Thorn, of course, had pushed me harder than anyone else could. His drills had sharpened my body to a fine edge, and his merciless eye had refused to let me settle for anything less than excellence.

  Still, calling stone and vine in the midst of combat had not been easy. They did not flow the way a spear flowed. They resisted, demanded respect, forced me to learn patience in a way I never had before. And yet, despite the strain, I was beginning to enjoy it.

  I turned and bowed. My father, King Strider, stood at the edge of the hall, his face unreadable as he watched me finish the sequence.

  “Son,” he said at last, his voice carrying the authority of his position, “it is almost time.”

  I lowered the stone spear, letting it crumble back into the earth. “I will wash and come to the meeting hall as soon as I’m ready.”

  He did not leave. Instead, his eyes softened, just a fraction. “I am proud of you, Sirius. I was not sure, in the beginning, what kind of man you would become. With your mother’s sickness keeping her from helping to raise you, I feared you would be shaped by grief and pain.”

  His words struck a deep chord, stirring old memories. I swallowed hard. “Honestly, Father… if it weren’t for Bryn, I don’t think I would be who I am today. Mom’s sickness drowned me in anger. Arrogance was used to hide my pain. But Bryn — he helped pull me out of that. Your discipline and encouragement gave me strength, but his friendship gave me a different reason to change. He had lost so much, had none of the blessings I did, and yet wasn’t like me.

  My father’s gaze grew distant for a moment, then he nodded slowly. “I prayed the orphanage would teach you humility. I never imagined it would bear fruit like this.” A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “It was worth giving up those astral raptor bracers. They had been without a house for two millennia.”

  The corner of my lips curved upward. We spoke a little longer, words more precious than I expected. Then I excused myself and made my way to clean up.

  Soon, I would begin the initiation process. It would not crown me, not yet, but it would set my feet on the path toward the throne. My older brother had chosen to abdicate the throne to someone else. He was going to work directly with The Hand and their Talons. Our most highly trained and specialized soldiers. I was next in line.

  Secrets of the kingdom would be entrusted to me. I would be sent to build bonds with other nations. I would be tested in training, in politics, and in the burdens of leadership.

  I did not know what shape the future would take, but I could feel anticipation burning in my chest.

  As I walked the corridor toward the meeting hall, my final thoughts turned to Bryn. Wherever he was, I hoped the Academy of Ascension was sharpening him into the man I would one day need beside me. For when the time came, I would ask more of him than friendship.

  —

  (Zephyra POV)

  Something felt wrong. I could not yet put it into words, but the unease threaded itself through every corner of my thoughts. The tournament had gone well enough — I had placed near the top of the first years — but victory did little to soothe the sense that shadows lingered just beyond sight.

  Everywhere I turned, it seemed I was a heartbeat too late. A flicker along the wall, a shifting outline in the corner of my eye, a presence that vanished before I could face it. Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps it was simply Father’s warning echoing through me. He had urged me to be cautious, to keep my eyes sharp in these early years of this continental transition.

  The elders agreed. They believe that these first years of the Academy of Ascension would be ripe for subterfuge. A time when nations could undermine one another’s power, when saboteurs could sow unrest and spark wars. And yet, the risks were outweighed by what might be gained.

  To make our continent, Thaylros, stronger. A future that bound us together rather than letting us fracture apart. That was why the nations had consented to this grand experiment. The dungeons and rifts were getting stronger, and our peoples were stagnating.

  Still, I could not dismiss the unease in my bones.

  I knew many of the students here already. Some I had crossed paths with in earlier tournaments or councils. Allies and rivals alike were familiar faces, and I had prepared myself for the dance of politics that awaited. I knew who I could trust and who I must keep at arm’s length.

  Bryn was a wildcard, though. His scarred skin flashed before my mind.

  I had not heard of him, a someone unbound to any house or banner. His sudden appearance beside the Razorwing revealed much. Few men alive commanded Asher’s respect. To arrive in his company, to carry his endorsement, was no small thing.

  And then there was the duel.

  In the arena, Bryn was a great surprise. His knives struck with precision, his movements sharpened by discipline that should not have been possible for someone without years of noble training.

  His regeneration alone made him formidable — one of the most potent manifestations my family’s informants had ever documented. And his senses… unnatural beyond aetherically known enhancements. In our clash, I could feel the way he tracked me, which far surpassed my own wind sight.

  He unsettled me, but he also intrigued me.

  An orphan with no ties to politics, no house to chain him, no noble debts to repay. He was free of the corruption that tainted so many others. Which made him… useful.

  If I could bring him into my circle, he could be an asset. My mind ticked through the strategies. How might he fit into our team as a unique, agility-based front-line fighter? He and Grond could make a good team…

  And maybe more than that, Bryn’s presence could mean a closer alliance with Asher himself. The Razorwing had always been a power in his own right, one my father had warned could shift balances if he chose a side. Gaining Bryn blades may gain Asher’s ear. We already had a good relationship with him, but stronger bonds were always wise.

  “I may need to speak with the others,” I whispered under my breath. “Now is the time to consider if we should add to our team.”

  The thought pressed on me as I left the training hall. The rifts and dungeons had grown restless over the last century, shifting and swelling in ways that unsettled even the oldest elders. The council believed a great event was near. Something that could reshape everything. If that was true, then we needed every advantage. We needed to be ready.

  And Bryn, strange as he was, might be worth the risk.

  There was also his tie to Sirius, a prince of Velmine. The nature of their bond was not fully known, but whispers suggested they had a positive relationship. That connection alone made Bryn dangerous and valuable.

  He was an orphan, that much was certain, and his connection to Sirius was likely how he had come to possess the bracers. They were believed to be dwarven forged relics. That is not something an orphan stumbles across.

  I exhaled sharply and shook my head. These were only threads, a thousand tangled lines that led in every direction. I could not follow them all tonight. The beginning of school loomed, and I needed to clear my mind, not lose myself in endless speculation.

  With that thought, I turned down the hall toward my dormitory, the sound of my footsteps cascading off the walls was the only answer to the questions that still refused to leave me.