The streets of Arathor pulsed with life, overwhelming in their sheer density. Merchants shouted over one another, hawking bolts of silk and salted meats. Horses clattered over cobblestones, their riders cursing at the endless press of wagons. Bells tolled from towers overhead, mingling with the laughter of children chasing one another through the crowd.
For Adrian, it was dizzying. The city throbbed like a living beast, its heartbeat echoing in every alley and archway. On the border, life had been sparse, defined by steel and silence. Here, it was overwhelming.
Edric, however, moved as though he belonged. His head held high, his stag crest gleaming, his voice easy as he exchanged greetings with merchants who recognized the Halborne name. Adrian trailed beside him, his gray eyes scanning everything with a soldier's suspicion. Every alleyway looked like a possible ambush, every loud voice a distraction.
Their destination loomed ahead—the Academy Registration Hall. Its massive bronze doors swung open and closed in a steady rhythm, swallowing heirs, squires, and hopefuls into its marble interior. Flags of the six knight academies snapped above the entrance, a riot of color in the breeze.
"Almost there," Edric said, his tone light. "And here you'll see which heirs fancy themselves warriors. A word of advice: half of them will talk more than they fight."
Adrian grunted in acknowledgment, though his attention was fixed on the surge of people around them.
That was when it happened.
Someone stumbled into him.
The impact was slight, yet the cloaked figure—small and slender—fell backward onto the cobblestones. Her hood slipped, spilling a cascade of golden hair that shimmered in the sunlight.
Adrian froze.
Her face was delicate, luminous, her eyes a piercing shade of blue that seemed to strip him bare. For a heartbeat, the chaos of Arathor dulled to nothing. All he saw was her.
The girl blinked up at him, startled but unafraid. Adrian, uncharacteristically slow, extended his hand. She hesitated before placing her own in his. He pulled her gently to her feet.
For the first time since his rebirth, Adrian found himself struck silent not by battle or blood—but by beauty.
Edric noticed immediately. His lips curled into a grin, his voice cutting through the crowd.
"Well, well. Even you make a face like that."
Adrian's head snapped toward him, a faint scowl tugging at his mouth.
Edric laughed openly, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Don't glare at me, Blackthorn. I've seen you cut down goblins without blinking, but one pretty girl has you gaping like a farm boy."
A ripple of laughter stirred among a few bystanders who had caught the exchange. Adrian ignored them, his gaze still locked on the girl as she flushed and lowered her eyes.
"Forgive me," she said softly, her voice gentle but clear. "I wasn't watching where I walked."
Adrian shook his head, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "No harm done."
Before more could be said, a sharp voice called through the crowd. "Alice! There you are."
The girl stiffened. Her blue eyes flicked between Adrian and Edric before she quickly adjusted her hood and slipped back into the throng. In moments, she was gone, swallowed by the tide of bodies.
Edric arched a brow, his grin sharpening. "Alice, was it? Interesting."
Adrian's gaze lingered on the place where she had vanished. The name echoed in his mind, sharp and insistent.
The noise of the Registration Hall struck like a hammer as they stepped inside. The marble chamber stretched wide, its high ceiling painted with scenes of kings and saints. Desks lined the hall where scribes recorded names, houses, and ages. Heirs from every corner of Arathor gathered here, their crests displayed proudly, their voices rising in laughter, boasts, and the occasional argument.
Adrian's eyes swept over them, assessing. Dozens of young men and women, many armed, many arrogant. Yet none unsettled him like the girl whose golden hair had flashed in the sun.
For reasons he could not explain, she had left a mark deeper than any blade.
Edric nudged him. "You're staring into space. Thinking about her?"
Adrian's jaw tightened. "Focus on registration."
"Right, right. Registration." Edric's grin didn't fade. "But you can't fool me, Blackthorn. I saw that look. You're human after all."
Adrian said nothing, but as they moved toward the registration desks, his thoughts kept drifting back. Who was she? Why did she carry herself with such quiet grace, yet seem to blend so easily into the crowd? And why had her eyes struck him with such force?
The questions burned, but for now, they would remain unanswered. The Registration Hall demanded his attention, and beyond it lay the Knight Trials that would define his path.
But somewhere in this vast city, a girl named Alice walked the streets. And Adrian knew, with strange certainty, that their paths would cross again.