Aramore Academy, inner-court yard, mid-morning.
Alina Valen stepped off the training circle with sweat still cooling on her neck and the fresh bronze of Core Bloom 1 glinting on her belt. Kael Ravenhart met her at the fountain, sabers sheathed but eyes bright with the same hunger that had driven twenty-three inner disciples through the bottleneck in a single moon. Their duel had ended moments earlier—illusion petals shredded by wind-cut arcs—and the hush that followed was already filling with new wagers.
Beyond the fountain, runners in twelve different liveries pushed through the gates at the same hour, each clutching sealed scrolls or crystal vials of ink. They arrived within minutes of one another, breathless, boots dusty from the same north road.
--
A page in green-and-gold carried House Ashfall's hawk-seal; another in scarlet bore the Silverfern crest; still another in indigo delivered the Hollowcrest raven. Every mid-tier noble house had decided the same thing at dawn: send word to their heirs before the bigger predators circled.
The messages were identical in spirit, different only in wax:
> "Aurora Vale is dead. A Tier-3 system-user walks free. Secure alliances, gather merit, do not be the next name on the scroll."
---
Lord Valen's letter reached Alina last, as if the courier had paused to read the wind. She cracked the seal beside the fountain, eyes flicking over ink that smelled of cedar and ambition.
"Our eastern spice road is open again. Use the Academy's trials to remind the realm that Valen still grows."
She folded the parchment once, tucked it into her sleeve, and smiled at Kael the way a blade smiles before it sings.
---
Kael's message arrived on black paper edged in crimson.
> "Court the Valen heiress. If the shadow strikes again, we stand behind the strongest light."
He read it once, then let the wind carry the paper into the fountain where the ink bled like wine. He offered Alina his arm for the walk to the Senate Hall; she took it without hesitation.
---
Across the Yard
Ashfall's heir tossed a pouch of spirit shards to his second, betting he'd break Core Bloom 1 by week's end.
Silverfern's youngest challenged Hollowcrest's prodigy to a midnight duel under illusion lamps.
Hollowcrest's twins pooled their merit to buy darkness charms, whispering that the killer might come for them next.
The yard had become a silent battlefield—polite smiles masking knives, every handshake measured in future alliances.
---
Night settled over the inner courtyard. Alina and Kael sat on the fountain's rim, blades across their knees, merit plaques glowing like twin coins in the dark.
Alina's voice was soft, almost swallowed by the wind. "Looks like every house sent their warning on the same wind."
Kael's answer was the smallest smile and the sound of steel sliding back into its sheath. "Then let the wind remember who answered together."
Their shoulders brushed. Neither pulled away.