In a kingdom which was engulfed in flames, stood two men who radiated strength beyond all measure. One of them held tonfas in both hands, wore a black cloak around his waist, guitar picks hung off his keychain, and he had dead, empty eyes.
The other figure, wore a golden crown, glasses, had short clean hair, a tall muscular build and held a long sword and he looked sad at the sight of the cloaked man.
"I need to do this, you don't understand, Arthur." The cloaked men said, looking away from the other. The crowned man—King Arthur Pendragon, clenched his fist. "THEN HELP ME UNDERSTAND, MERLIN!" He shouted and sniffled. "ALL THIS BLOOD! ALL THIS DESTRUCTION! FOR WHAT?! IF YOU COULD TELL ME ONE REASON WHY YOU HAVE TO DO ALL OF THIS THEN I'LL WALK AWAY!"
Merlin Shadowbane gripped his Tonfas. "You were always the better one. You were chosen for greatness while I was all alone. I had to go to that place, I had to! Even if I tell you, you won't understand." He shouted, his voice dripping with anger.
"Don't do this, Merlin!" Arthur shouted and Merlin dashed at him.
That battle ended with Merlin's defeat.
In the next fourteen years, the kingdom of Nocturnia—once ruled by Merlin Shadowbane—was taken back by the people he used to control. They rebuilt it from the ground up and gave it a new name: Auroria Dominion.
The kingdom was founded by Emmett Aldara and his wife, but after some time, he passed the throne down to his oldest son, Percival Aldara. Not long after, Percival got engaged to a genius named Ruecrix Aldara, and everything started to change.
When Ruecrix came into the picture, she introduced something no one had ever seen before—technology. And it changed the whole kingdom. People didn't even know it was possible, but suddenly, they had cars, cell phones, TVs, and more, all running alongside magic.
Other inventors started popping up too, following her lead. Now, Auroria Dominion runs on tech—and nothing's been the same since.
Now, most people in Auroria Dominion didn't have magic, so they were left pretty vulnerable. Because of that, Percival's younger brother, Thaddeus Aldara, came up with an idea—to build a school. But not just any school.
This school would bring in some princes and princesses from other kingdoms and train them to become warriors. And the ones without royal status who were smart enough to get into the school anyway? They'd learn how to become tech geniuses. That one idea led to the creation of one of the top schools on the whole continent of Auroria—The Arcanum Royal Institute.
Present day
Today was the day before another first day of Arcanum Royal institute, the school had been open for a couple of years now so there are kids for new students to get to know around the place.
The school was almost as big as a castle and on the insides the colors were amethyst and silver. There were portraits and murals of legendary figures throughout history.
The classes were empty due to the school still preparing but in the gym stood nine kids, three sophomores, three juniors and three seniors. These were the black cards of the school. The black cards are the only three students from each grade that possess magical techniques. Magical techniques don't mean wizards, in fact they're manascares–people who can use magical attacks or manipulate certain magical elements but are human.
In the gym there were four girls and five boys. The girls wore plaid purple skirts, and silver collared shirts with buttons. The boys wore silver pants with purple collared shirts with buttons.
One of the boys– a senior with a tired expression walked to the front of them and spoke into your mic. "As the class representative I think I should call attendance and tell you all what to expect tomorrow. As you know our school is prestigious and amazing blah blah blah. When I call your name just say here. Seniors first Draven Stormclaw." He called out.
A boy with a scaly face and dragon wings, visible stronger than the rest, raised his hand. "Here."
The tired boy nodded. "Jasper Onyx." He called out. A boy with chains on his neck raised his hand. "Here." The tired boy nodded again.
"Kai Stormbringer, that's me," he muttered, clearly over it already. He glanced down at the list and moved on. "Juniors." He looked up. "Laurel Havenfall." A girl with glowing violet eyes, floating just slightly off the ground, raised her hand with a calm smile. "Here."
"Emrys Ambrose." A red-haired girl with fire trailing off her fingertips rolled her eyes. "Obviously. I'm here."
"Kali Indraja." There was a loud pop! sound as two identical girls appeared beside the real one. "All three of us are here," the real Kali said, smirking.
Kai blinked. "Okay. Sophomores." He looked at the youngest group, probably the nicest. "Amara Winterborn."
A girl with silver-white hair and frost collecting around her boots gave a small wave. "Here."
"Cassius Taurus."
A broad-shouldered guy with horns, leaning against the gym wall like he owned the place, raised a fist. "Yo."
"Akoni Landsmith."
A boy with stars in his eyes—literally, they shimmered like constellations—floated a few inches off the ground thanks to his gravity magic. "Present."
Kai lowered the list and sighed. "Cool. That's all of us—the nine black cards. Best of the best. Whatever that means." He rubbed his eyes, clearly done with the moment. "Anyway, I know you're all dying to hear who the incoming freshman black cards are, so I'll read 'em out now."
He flipped the paper over. "Elowen Pendragon, princess of Camelot."
Instantly, murmurs broke out across the gym. "Arthur's daughter. Impressive," Amara whispered to Cassius, eyebrows raised.
Kai rolled his neck with a loud crack. "Dorian Dracula." More murmurs. Louder this time. Kai snapped. "CAN YOU ALL WAIT UNTIL I'M DONE TO MURMUR?! IT'S GIVING ME A HEADACHE!"
Silence. Instantly.
"Thank you," he muttered, rubbing his temples like he hadn't slept in days. He looked down at the paper again, then squinted. "And finally... wait—no way." He blinked, flipped the paper back and forth like it had a mistake, then stared harder. "This can't be right."
A long pause. Finally, he looked up, voice lower, almost unsure. "Melanthius Shadowbane… son of Merlin Shadowbane."
Silence.
Dead silence.
Then—
"You're kidding," Emrys said, her flames flickering higher. "That Merlin?"
Laurel tilted her head. "I thought he was dead."
"He is," Jasper grunted, crossing his arms. "Guess his son's not." Cassius raised an eyebrow. "What's a Shadowbane doing at our school?"
Amara's breath fogged the air around her. "He's literally the reason Nocturnia went to hell."
Kai slowly folded the paper and shoved it in his pocket. "Yeah, well… apparently he's back. And he's a black card. So… good luck with that." Kali chuckled, arms behind her head. "This year's about to get real interesting."
Akoni floated a little higher off the ground. "Melanthius Shadowbane. That's a name that's gonna stir trouble." Dorian's name was barely mentioned before, but now all eyes were on that last one.
Melanthius.
Draven stood up so fast his chair hit the floor. "I'm gonna have a word with the headmaster."
Before he could leave, Jasper grabbed his arm—tight. "Headmaster Thaddeus's word is final here. I don't care if you're one of his little followers."
Draven glared down at Jasper's hand. "You got two seconds to let go."
He yanked his arm free and stormed out of the gym.
Meanwhile, in the headmaster's office, Thaddeus and Percival sat across from each other. The tension was already high.
Thaddeus slammed his hand on the desk. "Percival, be reasonable! Do you seriously think the press is gonna be okay with the son of a dictator walking through our school?! Merlin destroyed lives. Why would his kid be any different?!"
Percival sighed and adjusted his glasses. "Father told me they found the boy under our castle. He was just a baby. They had no choice but to give him to the Magisterium—and they threw him in the worst prison in the world. Caldara Bastille. You really think that was fair?"
He reached out a hand. "I'm your brother, Thaddeus. You've gotta at least see where I'm coming from."
Thaddeus sighed, rubbing his face. "You're insane. But you're my brother. So yeah… I'm with you. Like always."
Suddenly, the door flew open.
A girl with long black hair, a tiara, and a silver dress with purple glitter burst in. One of her eyes was green, the other cybernetic and glowing.
"Dad! You have to help me! Mom keeps making me take photos—again!" She paused when she noticed the awkward energy in the room. Her cybernetic eye scanned everyone.
"What's going on?" she asked. "N-nothing! Run along, Rue!" Percival waved nervously. "Aha!" Rue grinned, dodging around him and snatching a paper off the desk. Her eyes scanned it fast. "What the hell?! You're letting Merlin's son in?!"
"Watch your mouth," Percival said, finger to his lips.
Rue groaned and flopped onto the desk dramatically. "Okay but, like—forget that for now. Why do I have to greet the freshmen tomorrow? I'm a freshman! Who's greeting me?! Also, why don't I have a black card? I literally have the magic of technology!"
"Because you're too short," Thaddeus said without missing a beat. Rue rolled her eyes and huffed. "I don't have time for your uncle-jokes. I have kids to greet." She stormed off. Thaddeus smirked. "Works every time."
But before he could enjoy the moment, the door slammed open again. Draven stood there, breathing heavy. "Headmaster, sir!"
"I really gotta lock that thing…" Thaddeus muttered. He picked up a random screw off the desk and dropped it next to him. Draven walked in, fire in his eyes. "Why was I just informed that Melanthius Shadowbane is enrolled at this school?"
Thaddeus held out both hands, staying calm. "Draven, I know what Merlin did to your father. I do. But that doesn't mean his son—who's been locked up in chains for fourteen years—is the same."
Draven knocked a stack of papers to the floor. "Merlin didn't just hurt my dad—he paralyzed him! From the waist down! And I'm willing to bet he did something to almost every black card's family too! And now you think his son's gonna show up here and be… normal?! He's gonna be angry. Broken. Dangerous. You're setting this school up to burn."
He pointed at both Thaddeus and Percival. But Percival stood calm. "I want you to pick him up, Draven."
Draven blinked. "What? Are you insane?"
Percival handed him a glowing device. "This'll take you to the Ironclad Isles and back. Please… for me. You'll be rewarded. I chose you because out of everyone, you're the one destined for greatness."
Draven looked down at the device. His hands shook a little, but his expression softened. "I… I guess I'll go."
He pressed a few buttons. "And I didn't wanna do it myself," Percival added with a smile. "Happy travels!" "BASTARD!" Draven shouted, right before he vanished in a flash of shimmering purple light.
Meanwhile, on the Ironclad Isles, everything looked dead. The skies were always gray. Beggars wandered the streets, pots and pans clanged in alleyways, and nobody ever smiled. This place was where hope went to rot.
But far out, buried in the ocean under storms and lightning, was Caldara Bastille—a prison built for the worst of the worst. Monsters pretending to be people… and people who turned into monsters.
Inside the cafeteria, a guy in chains scooped up slop with a cracked spoon. Next to him, a werewolf tore into raw meat like it owed him money.
"Yo," the guy whispered, "I heard Inmate zero 's getting out."
The werewolf licked blood off his plate. "Huh? That's insane. That kid's been in here since birth. He doesn't know anything but these walls."
"He'll learn real quick where he stands in the food chain," the man muttered, pulling a shank from under his tray. "We oughta give him a going-away party."
The inmates around them all nodded.
In the deepest cell of Caldara Bastille, a boy sat upside down on the ceiling, reading a tiny, beat-up book. His body was covered in scars. He had short black hair, sharp canines, and eyes glowing a faint violet. A thick robe hung loosely off him, and guitar picks were clipped to his pants like trophies.
The sound of heavy boots echoed.
Ten guards stopped outside his cell.
"Inmate zero . Chow time," one of them barked.
The boy dropped down in total silence, barefoot. He folded his robe neatly on the bed, set down his book and picks, and held his hands out without a word. They muzzled him. Chained his wrists. Shackled his ankles. A collar around his neck. He grinned under the muzzle.
"Today's my birthday," he mumbled through it. "And just like every birthday, I'll say the same thing… One day, I'm getting out. And when I do, you'll see me do something incredible." They dragged him through the halls. Everything went quiet.
"Inmate zero entering!" a guard shouted as the cafeteria doors slammed open. Chains came off. Everyone stared. Inmate zero walked in calm, like it was just another Tuesday. He sat down at an empty table.
A shaky inmate stepped forward and placed a tray in front of him—actual food, not slop. Rice, meat, even fries. "Thank you," Inmate zero said softly. The guy walked off fast.
Then—the man from earlier sat down beside him.
"Big day today, huh? Happy birthday." He smiled, pulled a french fry off Mel's plate, and threw it in the trash. Inmate zero slowly set his fork down. "Thanks."
The man shoved the whole tray onto the floor. "We all got history with you, Zero. Some worse than others. So I'll be honest—this isn't a party."
He leaned in close. "We're gonna kill you."
Inmate zero sighed. "It's my birthday. Just sing the song and move on."
He twisted a rubber band around his ring finger. Calm. Relaxed. Quiet.
Then the man chuckled. "Me, a criminal? You know who your dad was, right?" He tapped one of the scars on Mel's neck.
That was a mistake.
Mel's hand blurred. One punch—and the guy's finger was bent completely backward. "AHHH—!"
Before he could finish screaming, Inmate zero smashed his plate across the guy's face. Teeth hit the floor like coins.
The room froze. Then it exploded.
"HEY!" another inmate yelled, charging at Mel.
Inmate zero ducked, drove a fist into the guy's ribs. Bone cracked. Another lunged—Inmate zero leapt off the broken man's back and spin-kicked the next one into a bench.
Three more rushed in—he slipped under the first punch, grabbed one by the throat, slammed him into the ground, then swung the body like a weapon into the other two.
Blood sprayed.
A table flipped. Five inmates surrounded him.
"Jump him!"
They swung knives and fists.
Inmate zero moved like he'd done this his whole life. Because he had.
He snatched a tray off the floor and used it as a shield. One stab—blocked. Another—he caught the guy's wrist, twisted, snapped. Screams.
He headbutted another in the nose, then jabbed two fingers into the last one's throat, dropping him.
He stood in the middle of chaos, breathing steady. Hair messy. Eyes glowing brighter now.
More came.
Ten more. Then fifteen. Now thirty.
They all attacked at once.
Inmate zero tore through them like a storm.
Elbows. Knees. Throws. Every hit counted. He bit one in the shoulder. Broke another's leg with a kick. Slammed one face-first into a metal table so hard it bent.
By the end of it, the cafeteria looked like a war zone.
Blood. Groans. Shattered furniture. Silence.
The guard outside the cell sighed and rubbed his face. "Melanthius, you can't just go around doing stuff like that," he said.
Mel didn't answer, just stared.
The guard kept going. "You're always following that moral code that Goldman drilled into you—'Bullying is for cowards. Killing's disgraceful. Only fight when you have to. Real men don't hit women unless it's self-defense,' all that stuff. But out there? That's not how things work."
Mel dropped down from the ceiling and walked up to the gate.
"You wanna talk about the real world like I'm actually getting outta here? That's funny." He shook his head. "I've been locked up for 15 years. I don't know anything past these walls except what they taught me. Magic. How to dress myself. How to fight. That's it."
He stepped closer. "You wanna talk about the people who raised me? Let's talk about the ones who didn't."
The guard looked away.
"The higher-ups who could've done something. The guards who could've taught me how to act normal. Or maybe my dad... the reason I'm in this hellhole in the first place."
He paused. His voice cracked a little.
"My father—Merlin freakin' Shadowbane. Evil king. King Arthur killed him, and when they found me in that basement, they didn't even think. Just locked me up like I was already guilty. Like I didn't even matter."
He stared at the guard hard.
"So maybe before you say my morals are wrong… try living in my shoes first." Then he climbed back up the ceiling and laid down like he was going to sleep. The guard stood there for a second, then muttered, "Happy birthday." Another guard wheeled over a small cake. They opened the gate just enough to slide it inside, a few feet from Mel. Then they locked it back up… and left him alone.
A few minutes later, Mel woke up and dropped to the ground. He stretched, yawned, and walked over to the cake. "That was a good nap," he mumbled in a light, almost innocent voice. He grabbed the cake with both hands and took a big bite. "Mmm… chocolate," he said with a soft smile.
But then his teeth hit something hard. "Ow." He reached into his mouth and pulled out a small gem, blinking. "The hell?" He looked closer and saw an envelope stuffed inside the cake. "Huh?" Mel tore it open and pulled out a folded-up letter. He started reading:
Auroria Dominion
Arcanum Royal Institute
Solstice City
Dear Melanthius,
We are pleased to extend to you a formal invitation to join the esteemed academy of Arcanum Royal Institute, located in the heart of Solstice City, within the Auroria Dominion. Our institution is renowned for cultivating the finest minds and talents from across the royal world.
Your royal blood and potential have come to our attention, and we believe that your presence at Arcanum Royal Institute will be invaluable. Here, you will have the opportunity to refine your skills, expand your knowledge, and forge bonds with the brightest and most influential students from royal families.
As a student with a unique and powerful background, a Black Card. This card not only represents your immense power but also grants you access to exclusive resources, advanced magical training, and unparalleled opportunities for growth.
The new school term begins on the 1st day of the Autumn Equinox. An escort will arrive at Caldara Bastille to accompany you to the Institute. Please be prepared for departure at dawn.
We look forward to welcoming you to Arcanum Royal Institute and witnessing the extraordinary contributions you will undoubtedly make to our illustrious academy.
With highest regards,
Thaddeus Aldara
Headmaster of Arcanum Royal Institute
He kept reading, eyes slowly going wide. His hands started shaking.
"A school…? A real school?" he whispered. "I-I'm actually getting out?"
He gasped, holding the letter like it was treasure. "Yes! I'm finally getting out of here!"
But before he could celebrate, the whole back wall of his cell exploded. Bricks went flying. Mel covered his face, coughing through the dust.
When it cleared, he saw a tall guy with blue dragon scales, glowing yellow eyes, wings spread wide, and fangs poking out from his mouth.
The guy landed hard.
"Melanthius Shadowbane," he said with a deep voice. "I'm Draven Stormclaw. I'm here to escort you to Solstice City, where you'll get your supplies. You're going to the Arcanum Royal Institute. Only royal kids from all over the world go there. The prison's already been informed. Let's move."
Mel blinked, still catching up. "Wait… I gotta leave without saying goodbye to anyone?"
Draven nodded. "That's how it works. Chin up. You'll see them again when you're some big-shot wizard."
Mel looked around the cell one last time—at the books, the bed, the ceiling he always sat on. He clenched his fists and gave a small nod. "Alright… yeah. I'd be honored."
Draven walked up and sliced the chains off with one swipe of his claw. As he looked around at the nasty, cramped cell, he noticed something weird.
Mel was smiling.
Really smiling. Like this was the best day of his life.
Draven squinted. "Is this kid messing with me? No way he's not full of rage. Nobody grows up like this and comes out smiling."
Later, outside the prison, Mel walked barefoot across the rough ground without a care. He was still smiling.
"This place is so open! What's that smell? Is that the ocean?! What's a squirrel? Can I ride a boat?! Do boats fly? Are they like floating houses or—?"
"Melanthius Shadowbane..." Draven muttered.
Mel stopped mid-ramble. "Huh? What's wrong, sir?"
Before he could say anything else—WHAM—Draven slapped him with his wing, launching Mel into the side of a mountain. The ground cracked from the impact.
Mel groaned and stood up, shaking the dirt off.
Draven stomped forward. "No way. No way you're smiling right now. After everything you've been through?"
He growled. "You grew up in chains, with nothing but pain, and you're out here acting like some happy little kid? You trying to fake me out? Get close to the school and burn it down from the inside? What's your game?!"
Mel wiped his face and looked up at him. "I'm not faking."
Draven's jaw clenched. "Then why? Why are you smiling?"
Mel stared at the sky for a second, then looked Draven dead in the eyes. Voice calm. Honest.
"Because I just wanna live a normal life."
He stepped forward, bruised but still standing.
"I don't care about revenge. I don't care about burning anything down. I don't wanna be like my father. I just want… friends. Real food. A bed that isn't stone. I want to laugh without getting punished. I want to learn, to be around people my age, to… to be seen as more than a name or a curse."
Draven stood there, breathing hard, eyes locked on Mel.
Then slowly… he relaxed.
He looked at the kid standing in front of him. Covered in scars. No shoes. No fear.
Just hope.
"…Damn," Draven muttered. "You're serious." Mel nodded. "Dead serious." Draven turned around and pulled out the teleport device. "C'mon then, birthday boy. Let's get you outta here." Mel smiled again—this time, softer. Quieter. And with a shimmer of purple light, the two disappeared.