The sun poured gold across the polished marble floors of Aeternum Young Scholars Camp, casting long shadows over tiny designer shoes and polished leather. The camp was a playground of chaos in silk and velvet, where rich kids with names nobody else had ever heard collided for the first time.
Aether Lysander Vale stood near the doorway, arms crossed, eyes sharp even at ten. His father had died when he was small, leaving him to inherit the family's aviation and defense empire sooner than anyone would have imagined. His gaze flicked over the room, cool and precise, already scanning the world as if it were a chessboard.
Riven Kairoth Thalorien was crouched in a corner, carefully assembling a tiny robot from scrap metal. His parents were alive but emotionally distant, leaving him to nurture his genius alone. His messy hair fell into his eyes, but a bright, mischievous smile broke through every time the robot squeaked to life.
Cadenzil Thorné Asterion bounced a ball against the wall, ignoring the indoor rule posted in bright letters above. His mother was gone, and his father was a stoic man of business, leaving Cadenzil to carry both charm and brash confidence wherever he went. "Can someone at least tell me if this ball is… okay to bounce?" he laughed, knowing the answer didn't matter.
And then there was Lucien Saevyr Caelum. Quiet. Soft-eyed. Carrying a violin case that looked almost too large for his shoulders. His mother had passed, leaving him with his father and the delicate weight of legacy in music. He stood slightly apart, watching the others with a careful interest — a prince quietly observing his kingdom.
Across the hall, three little hurricanes stirred:
Aristeia Liora Mnemosyné spun gracefully on her toes, ballet shoes whispering across the floor. Even at ten, her posture and elegance were effortless, her father's absence sharpened her focus.
Vaela Saffron Astryx stared through a telescope she had dragged along herself, murmuring star names nobody else could pronounce. Her father was missing, and she sought constellations like messages from the universe — precise, brilliant, and untouchable.
Seraphine Elara Montcroix strutted past, sparkly jacket shimmering. She was loud, confident, dramatic, and fully aware of the attention she commanded. Both her parents were alive but obsessed with fame; she had learned early that she could own any room herself. "You're stepping on my jacket's shadow," she quipped.
Aristeia arched an eyebrow. "Your jacket does not have a shadow."
Seraphine tilted her chin. "It does now."
Chaos settled, perfectly.
The teachers, in their infinite wisdom, forced them to sit together. Seraphine planted herself between Lucien and Cadenzil, eyes sparkling like she already owned the table.
Aether gave a small nod toward Lucien. "Can you not do that inside?"
Cadenzil smirked. "Can you smile?"
Riven chuckled softly, the sound too pure for someone so young. Lucien simply watched, a tiny, secret smile tugging at his lips, and for the first time, he felt like he belonged.
Vaela and Aristeia exchanged quiet glances, amusement flickering in their eyes, while Seraphine leaned forward, daring anyone to challenge her. The boys argued, the girls twirled, the world outside might as well have not existed.
By the end of the day, alliances were formed, rivalries hinted at, and friendships quietly stitched themselves across that tiny circle of chaos. Seven kids. Four boys, three girls. Different schools, different lives, yet a single bond had begun — a bond that would shape every choice, every heartbreak, and every triumph they would face together.
And though they didn't know it yet, this table, this room, this golden afternoon, was the beginning of everything.