Kaien stood in a courtyard of silence.
It was not empty. Far from it. Hundreds of candidates had already passed through the gate behind him, their footsteps swallowed by the stone underfoot. Every sound in this place felt dimmed. Even the murmurs of conversation, the nervous breaths, the shuffle of armor and boots they all seemed distant, like echoes trapped behind glass.
The courtyard itself was carved from pale marble, veins of soft gold threading through the floor like rivers under ice. Tall columns surrounded the space, engraved with markings Kaien didn't recognize. Between them, pale fabric screens swayed slightly in the windless air, casting long, shifting shadows across the ground.
This was only the first chamber of many.
He stood at the edge of a slow-moving line that curved toward a raised platform in the center. One by one, candidates were called forward to register. There was no ceremony. Just names, records, and the faint shimmer of divine scanning devices operated by scribes in black.
Kaien glanced up.
Above the courtyard, the sky felt too close.
It was open, cloudless, but the weight of it pressed down as if the heavens themselves were watching through narrowed eyes.
He shifted his stance and scanned the others nearby.
Some were whispering prayers. Others focused on breathing exercises. A few sat cross-legged with eyes shut, veins glowing faintly under their skin as they prepared for Vein activation. Most ignored him. He was just another body in the crowd.
But not everyone ignored him.
At the far edge of the platform, a boy with dark green robes stood still, watching Kaien.
He didn't look particularly dangerous. No visible weapon. No crest. No visible power. But something about his gaze was unsettling. Focused. Cold.
Kaien didn't look away. Neither did the boy.
Then, without expression, the boy turned and walked off behind a partition, disappearing from view.
A scribe called the next name.
Kaien stepped forward in line.
A girl behind him whispered something to her companion. Her voice was sharp. Dismissive. "The unmarked always show up. They think it's a story. It's not."
Kaien heard her. He didn't respond.
His eyes drifted to the walls. Behind the scribe table, four banners hung in silence one for each academy. Astraeus, golden and bright. Nyros, layered and strange. Varkaan, scarred and burnt. Hollowspire, gray as ash.
The wind shifted.
He felt the cold return.
Just under his ribs.
Just behind his eyes.
He stepped forward again.
The platform approached slowly.
When it was his turn, he stood before the table. The scribe barely looked up.
"Name."
"Kaien Vale."
"Origin."
"Veyrune. Outer Ring."
The scribe paused. Looked up now.
"Lineage?"
Kaien answered with the same words he always gave.
"None recorded."
The scribe narrowed his eyes. Touched a glyph on the table.
A silver thread of light passed over Kaien's skin from head to toe.
It paused briefly at his chest.
Flickered.
Then passed through.
The scribe frowned slightly, wrote something down, and gestured him forward.
"Proceed to Chamber One."
Kaien moved on without a word.
Behind him, the next name was called.
The sound faded as he passed through a tall curtain of layered silk. The room beyond was narrow and dim, lit only by low embers and flickering sigils carved into the walls. Dozens of candidates sat along the stone benches in silence.
Waiting.
Breathing.
Preparing.
Kaien sat at the far end.
He closed his eyes.
The hum behind his ribs remained. Quiet. Low. Patient.
He breathed slowly.
Somewhere, deep beneath the floor, something pulsed once.
And then all was still again.