Morning came in a slow burn of golden light across the academy's vast skyline.
Celestia Divinity Academy—the seat where gods were forged—was already alive.
Eryndor stood by the window of his assigned dormitory, gazing out at the immense courtyard below. Floating rings of marble platforms hovered over crystalline lakes, and beyond them stood the elemental towers—each one dedicated to an aspect of divine affinity: Flame, Storm, Earth, Aqua, Light, Shadow, and the Celestial.
Kaelus leaned against the bedpost behind him, stretching lazily. "You realize this is the first time I've been somewhere where everyone could kill me in one move?"
Eryndor chuckled faintly, adjusting the black cuff on his sleeve. "Then don't give them a reason to."
"Me? Please." Kaelus smirked. "I'm aiming to charm them to death."
The chime of a distant bell cut through the air. The first assembly of the new term.
They stepped into the courtyard, joining hundreds of students. Most wore variations of the academy's attire—robes woven with faint divine threads that shimmered according to elemental affinity. The atmosphere was electric; the air practically vibrated with energy from dozens of divine resonances pulsing at once.
At the center of the plaza stood Arch-Dean Marcellus Vane, a man with flowing silver hair and a gaze like sharpened light. His presence was heavy, though not suffocating—like standing near a storm that chose, for now, not to break.
"Welcome, initiates and candidates," he began, his tone calm but carrying to every corner of the courtyard. "You've entered the Academy of Gods, where your worth will not be measured by your bloodline or origin, but by the strength of your will to ascend."
He raised his hand, and the ground lit up with glowing lines—divine sigils forming seven concentric rings around him.
"The divisions here are as follows," he continued.
"Tier One, the Initiates: mortals who've stepped beyond the mortal shell but have yet to touch divinity.
Tier Two, the Ascendants: warriors and mages who can harness divine resonance for short periods.
Tier Three, the God Candidates: chosen by the fragments of divine law themselves.
And finally," his tone grew sharp, "Tier Four, the High Candidates—those who have survived the first resonance. Only six in this academy hold that rank."
Whispers spread like wildfire among the recruits. Kaelus leaned toward Eryndor, muttering, "I'm guessing we're at the bottom of the food chain."
"Not for long," Eryndor replied quietly.
Marcellus lowered his hand, the sigils fading. "To give you a glimpse of the power you aspire to, we shall begin this term with a demonstration."
The crowd parted as two figures stepped into the central ring.
Both wore the insignia of High Candidates—golden emblems shaped like fractured halos.
The first was a tall man with crimson eyes and black armor etched with streaks of molten gold. Flames licked faintly across his arms. Icarion Vale, the Flame Candidate—known as the "Solar Heir."
The second was a woman with pale blue hair that flowed like a river of silk, her presence cool and serene. Ripples formed around her feet wherever she stepped. Mireya Solenne, the Aqua Candidate—calm, collected, and feared.
Kaelus let out a low whistle. "They're both legends here."
The air around the two candidates tightened as they faced each other.
Marcellus's voice cut through the tension. "Begin."
Instantly, the plaza exploded into light.
Icarion moved first—his hand igniting in roaring flame as he punched forward. The shockwave alone cracked the marble beneath him. But Mireya merely lifted a finger, and an oceanic sphere burst into existence around her. The fire struck it—and hissed out.
Her eyes glimmered faintly as she whispered, "Tide Spiral."
The sphere twisted outward, turning into spiraling blades of water that slashed toward Icarion. He spun, dodging one—then grabbed another mid-flight, converting it into steam with his aura. He grinned, baring sharp teeth.
"Still holding back, water princess?"
"Just enough to make you confident," she replied evenly.
Their clash continued, a dance of flame and water that left the air crackling and the ground steaming. Every impact was divine resonance colliding—a clash not of mere elements but of laws.
Kaelus shielded his face from the shockwave. "They're using divine fragments like it's breathing!"
Eryndor's eyes followed their movements, lightning flickering faintly in his pupils. "They're still testing each other. Neither's serious yet."
And then—the air shifted.
A presence swept across the courtyard so heavy, it drowned even the roar of the duel.
Students fell silent, and even Marcellus's expression hardened.
From the far end of the plaza, a figure appeared, descending from the upper balcony with effortless grace.
Golden hair. Violet eyes. That calm, quiet arrogance that silenced an entire room.
Rein Clark.
The same man who'd shattered the arena weeks ago now stood among them, hands tucked casually into his pockets.
Whispers rippled like wildfire.
"The Dominion Candidate…"
"He's still here?"
"Wasn't he forbidden from the mortal realm?"
Rein's gaze swept the crowd before landing directly on Eryndor. For a long, silent moment, neither spoke.
Kaelus swallowed. "I hate that guy's face."
Eryndor smirked faintly. "Get used to it. He's probably our new yardstick."
On the field, both Icarion and Mireya stopped mid-motion, turning to face Rein as he stepped onto the marble ring. His mere presence extinguished both flame and water.
Marcellus's voice sharpened. "Rein Clark. This is not your—"
"Relax," Rein interrupted, his tone soft yet carrying. "I'm only here to observe." His gaze flicked back to Eryndor, eyes glinting. "For now."
The tension in the air was suffocating—half awe, half fear.
Eryndor didn't flinch. He met Rein's gaze evenly, his lightning faintly dancing across his hand.
Kaelus muttered under his breath, "You're really going to stare him down like that?"
Eryndor's smirk deepened. "Why not? It's only polite to look a god in the eye."
For a brief, electric instant, Rein's lips curved into something that might've been a smirk—then vanished.
The crowd erupted again as Marcellus clapped his hands, dispelling the tension. "Enough for today. Classes will be assigned by affinity at dawn. Dismissed."
As everyone dispersed, Kaelus exhaled loudly. "You really don't know how to act like a normal student, do you?"
Eryndor glanced at the now-empty ring, his eyes thoughtful. "Normal students don't get stared down by gods."
He turned away, the faint hum of divine resonance still pulsing faintly through his veins.
Somewhere deep within the academy's shimmering halls, something unseen stirred—an echo of the Black Sun, watching its chosen from beyond the veil.