The morning was overcast. The sun refused to show itself through the thick clouds, and a heavy grayness hung over the Academy. Students, suitcases, magic bags, and scrolls gathered in the courtyard. Some were laughing, some were fussing, and some were nervously fiddling with an amulet on their chest. Kalen, however, stood still.
He was wearing a black cloak, buttoned at an angle. The wind ruffled his hair, and the shadow of his hood hid his gaze. Under the cloak, he wore the dark uniform of the Academy, and a tattoo pulsed on his back. It had grown larger. It almost reached his shoulders.
Reina approached in silence. As always. She was wearing a black dress with dark red accents, and a narrow ribbon-bow on her head, accentuating her impeccable hairstyle. She wasn't carrying any bags, as she had a spatial bracelet. There was no hint of anxiety on her face.
"Ready?" — What is it? " she asked.
"I'm never ready," Kalen chuckled. "But let's go."
At that moment, Helmir Saen, their new homeroom teacher, came out of the main building. He was tall and thin, wearing a black robe, and his eyes looked as if they had been burned from the inside. His skin was ashen, and his voice sounded like the crunch of charred bones.
— Attention, first-year students. We leave in ten minutes. Your behavior in the city is my personal responsibility. If you break the rules, your souls will be experimented on by the alchemists of Voldkrane. I'm sure this doesn't inspire you.
A whisper ran through the crowd. Someone swallowed.
"There will be a formation upon arrival. The Mayor of the city and the Third Circle of Researchers will be waiting for us. You are representatives of the Academy. Even if you are stupid, underdeveloped, and slobbering teenagers, behave like mages. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Mr. Saen!" the class shouted.
Kallen didn't say anything. He just looked at his boot. Ward's shadow fluttered softly behind him, not summoned but ready to appear at any moment.
A few minutes later, black carts hovering on epheota crystals flew up to the Academy. Each one bears the Academy's crest and an enchanted barrier. Kalen and Reina took their seats side by side. The other students were divided into pairs. Total — 52 people. With them are two teachers and a security wizard.
The carriage shuddered and soared upward. The Academy disappeared below, followed by the mountains. In the distance, above a black gorge, Voldkran could already be seen.
It floated in the air like a huge, rotting sore in the sky. The towers grew upward like the gnarled fingers of a giant. Their surfaces were covered with rusted pipes, crystals embedded in the stone, and swarms of birds that had mutated from proximity to magic.
Smoke plumes stretched from everywhere, twisted alchemical fumes, bright fireworks of green, blue and purple. Mechanical platforms glided through the city, on which masks without faces moved, blind seers, disfigured magicians, whose magic melted their bones into glass or their skin into a rune.
Waldkran was a laboratory without morals. They tried to change flesh, to invent new types of magic. Some of the experimenters had long forgotten their names. But they didn't need them.
And there, in the heart of the city, was the Tower of Transmutation, the purpose of the trip. There was a test to be passed.
None of the students knew that one of them had already begun.
"Voldkrane," the name of the city was called as the airship settled gently on the floating slabs of the dock. The stone beneath their feet breathed. It vibrated with the magic woven into it, glowing with pale patterns beneath their feet—ritual seals, echoes of ancient architecture.
"...it's not just the capital, " Reina whispered, standing next to Kalen. — It's... a place where alliances are made and wars begin.
He was silent, looking down from the platform. Below, the city stretched on seven levels, from the lower shopping streets to the gleaming domes of palaces surrounded by flying gardens. Between them are bridges, chains, dragon cages, and flying carts.
A crowd was already gathering at the dock. And it was... something.
The elves are thin, angular, wearing green metal armor that exudes an aura of living magic. Their eyes were pupil-less, silvery, their hair flowing like a waterfall.
Dwarves were tough as blocks, with fur robes and staffs that were also warhammers. Their skin is like copper, and their smell is like a blacksmith's.
Vampires in long, fleeting robes of shadow. Their faces were exquisite, their lips were scarlet, and their gazes were predatory. They could feel the blood. Always.
Draconians are tall, with scaly skin. Horns, tails, and claws. Someone was more than two meters tall. They gave off the heat of a blacksmith's fire.
Demons — split horns, eyes without whites, bodies tattooed with pain and magic. Some of them were... too quiet. Dangerous ones.
The people looked ordinary. But they were standing in the center, united, with the emblems of the great houses. Whispers and glances were already beginning among them. They recognized the Lionheart crest.
Kalen stepped forward.
"What a zoo," he said through gritted teeth. "I'd like to punch someone just for the expression on their face."
Senior Curator Saen appeared behind him.
"Control yourself, Lionheart," his voice was even. "Your shadow may be rare, but people like you die quickly here. Especially if they start first."
Next to Saen was a tall woman with eyes like mirrors, a representative of the Council of the Elven Lands. Behind her was a mage with a glowing Blood tattoo that covered half his face. And further on was a vampire whose eyes glowed red and whose cheeks were stained with someone's blood. Real blood.
They all met the Academy's students.
And among them were hundreds of gazes, among which Kalen felt a feverish, overwhelming magic running over his skin.
Beside her, Reina suddenly stiffened.
"They're sizing us up," she said. "All these... predators."
"Let them evaluate. I'll show them my back later, when they're crawling."