The dawn sky over Neraveth blazed with streaks of rose and gold as Kaelith and Lyra trudged along the worn cobblestone road. Their meager belongings were slung over their shoulders — a patched satchel for him, a small bundle for her. Behind them, the ruins of Veyr Province faded into memory.
Ahead, the world opened. Floating mountains dotted the horizon, suspended by shimmering ley lines. Streams of energy ran between them like glowing rivers in the sky. At the heart of it all rose a colossal spire of crystal and steel, its peak vanishing into the clouds: Aetherion Academy.
It wasn't just a school. It was a fortress, a city, a dream. The most powerful warriors, scholars, and mages from every race came here to hone their skills. Heroes were made here. So were tyrants.
Lyra stopped to catch her breath, gazing up at the spire. "It's… beautiful."
Kaelith's eyes stayed on it, cold and calculating. "It's a battlefield wearing a crown."
> "And you're not even a pawn yet," Nyxion sneered in his head. "Do you really think a commoner brat will survive here?"
Kaelith didn't answer her. He adjusted his satchel and kept walking.
The road became crowded as they neared the outer gates. Dozens of youths were streaming toward the academy — elves with flowing silver hair, dwarves with intricately carved armor, beastkin with twitching ears and tails. All of them wore expensive fabrics, their family crests stitched boldly into their cloaks.
Kaelith and Lyra's plain clothes drew glances like daggers. Whispered voices rose behind hands.
"Commoners."
"They'll be eaten alive."
"Probably won't last a week."
Lyra's hand tightened on his sleeve, but he didn't slow. He'd grown up with contempt. He would feed it to his hatred until it burned hotter.
> "They're right, you know," Nyxion murmured. "You're meat to them. But meat can become poison if seasoned right."
"Good," he muttered under his breath. "Let them choke."
They reached the first gate — an archway of obsidian etched with glowing runes. Guards in silver armor scanned entrants with crystal orbs. A tall elf with a scar over one eye stepped forward, blocking their path.
"Name and purpose," he said, voice clipped.
"Kaelith Veyr. Lyra Veyr. Entrance exam." Kaelith's tone was flat but steady.
The elf arched an eyebrow. "Commoners? No sponsor? You'll pay the full examination fee upfront, then." He named a sum that made Lyra blanch.
Kaelith pulled out a small pouch of coins. "Take it." He'd sold the last of their family's keepsakes for this. His fingers trembled as he handed it over, but his eyes didn't.
The elf smirked faintly and waved them through. "Try not to die in the first round."
> [Quest Updated: Survive the Entrance Trials]
Reward: +150 Negative Points
Punishment: -5 Years Lifespan
Nyxion's voice coiled around the words like smoke.
> "Oh, this will be fun. Blood, sweat, humiliation — everything I like to watch."
Inside the gates, the academy grounds spread out like a living city. Towering libraries with spines of crystal. Training fields where warriors clashed under anti-magic domes. Floating classrooms drifting from one courtyard to another like giant lotus blossoms. Statues of past champions loomed over it all.
Lyra's eyes sparkled despite herself. "Kaelith… look at this place…"
He allowed himself a brief moment to take it in. It was magnificent, yes — but also dangerous. Every smiling face could hide a knife. Every teacher could be a judge. Every test a death trap.
A commotion to their left drew his attention. A group of wealthy students had gathered near a fountain, laughing. At the center stood a tall boy with short white hair and a golden crest on his chest — Draven Altair, heir to one of the oldest noble families in Neraveth. His aura shimmered faintly, already at a level most adults could only dream of.
He caught sight of Kaelith and Lyra. His lips curled.
"Well, well. The academy's letting in rats now?" he drawled loudly enough for everyone to hear. "I suppose even vermin need dreams."
Lyra stiffened. Kaelith's eyes met Draven's without flinching. He didn't respond.
Draven smirked. "No witty retort? How dull. I almost feel bad. Almost."
Kaelith's hand twitched at his side, but Nyxion's voice slid in like ice.
> "Not yet. Bleed later, strike first. Learn the board before you move the pieces."
He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to walk past. "Come on, Lyra."
Her fingers trembled as she gripped his sleeve, but she followed.
They reached the orientation hall, where hundreds of applicants stood in rows. An instructor strode to the front — a woman in a black-and-gold coat, her hair tied back in a severe braid. Her eyes were like daggers as she scanned the crowd.
"I am Instructor Veyra Drask," she said. "Welcome to Aetherion Academy. Or rather, welcome to its first culling."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"Three trials stand between you and entry," Veyra continued. "Fail any, and you're out. Fail spectacularly, and you're dead. We do not coddle. We do not mourn. We forge or we discard. Understood?"
A chorus of uneasy nods answered her.
"Good. Trial One begins now."
The floor beneath them shuddered. A circle of runes flared, and the entire hall vanished in a burst of light.
Kaelith landed hard on rough stone. He blinked — they were in a cavernous arena, its walls slick with moss, faintly glowing. Water dripped from stalactites high above. Dozens of other candidates stood scattered across the arena floor.
> "Welcome to your first trial," a voice boomed overhead. "Retrieve the heartstone from the beast within. Work together or die alone."
A low growl reverberated through the cavern. The ground trembled. A massive shadow moved at the far end — something with claws like scythes and eyes like molten gold.
Lyra's breath hitched. "Kaelith…"
He put himself between her and the shadow, muscles tensing. "Stay behind me."
> "Oh, this is going to be glorious," Nyxion purred. "So many screams. So much fear. Eat it. Use it."
Kaelith flexed his fingers, feeling the strange dark energy coil in his veins — the power he'd taken at such a cost. He'd never used it before. But if he wanted to survive, he would have to.
The beast roared, and the trial began.