Chapter 50

  There was a lull as we stumbled our way toward the platform that stood at the head of the giant hall. A dais sat atop it, currently empty, without anyone in sight. The head of our group, the giddy Herald Mage, clapped silently and gestured at us to stop. And stop, we did, our backs turned against the hundreds of thousands of students of the Creator’s Academy.

  My heart thumped loudly in my chest as I struggled to breathe. There was, I guessed, the thing about my Mother, who supposedly inspired the Academy’s most deadly trial through her bloody campaigns, but there was also the social nature of the very experience I was stuck in right now.

  I decided to take a look around and see if that calmed me down.

  Yes.

  Instead of waiting for this whole thing to pass, I might as well take part in it.

  Observe.

  Great.

  I could see empty chairs in the first rows of the long tables in the corner of my eyes, which were probably reserved for the first-year students. Behind them sat the students of the Academy, each looking like a freak of different sorts.

  There were no old people, though. That was odd. Other than this particular Herald Mage, nobody in the hall seemed strange enough to be taken as a teacher. They were just students. Powerful students, but still, mostly young people.

  Then came a loud thump from the side, the sound bouncing off the marble statues and echoing high across the ceiling. Another thump followed it shortly, after which a giant door groaned wide open right from inside the leftmost wall.

  A thunderous response came from the students to that particular opening. They rose all together like a well-disciplined army, while we, the first-years, jerked to attention with muted uncertainty. Scowling, I waited with nervous expectation to see who would come out from the giant door.

  It turned out it wasn’t a single person, but a line of people that poured into the hall, all clad in robes of intricate fashion that clearly distinguished them from the students, with each of them carrying a simple circle around the left side of their chest area, painted in a color that oddly resembled blood.

  “Circles,” Keralth muttered under his breath. Thank the gods that he at least had some common sense to keep quiet. “These are the teachers. They’re all either Heralds or Quasi-Celestials. How fascinating.”

  There was a sense of weight, a heavy pressure, as I observed the line of teachers as they climbed the stairs and took their place on top of the platform. About three dozen of them in total, their ages ranging from what seemed like mid-twenties to seventies, gazing down at the students with a mixture of expressions.

  “They don’t look strong,” Valar said with a doubtful look. “They look hardly like warriors.”

  “It’s the tradition,” Keralth explained with patience. “They all have to wear the ceremonial robes today, which makes it harder to distinguish the Mages from the Knights.”

  “Why are they standing like that?” I asked when all the teachers stood facing the crowd, seemingly waiting for something. “I thought this was supposed to be a welcoming ceremony.”

  To be honest, this did feel like a ceremony of sorts, but the air was a little strange. The teachers didn’t look particularly happy or sad; they were just waiting in silence. There was no sight of the Celestials, nor the Headmaster, who was supposed to be a freakish Archmage. In the book Belfray gave me, it said he was a Celestial on the brink of becoming a Paragon.

  And so, the silence stretched as we waited, daring not to make a sound, until an odd sensation filled my soul. It felt as though I was plunged suddenly into an endless pit, my stomach revolting, my head reeling, the fingers of my right hand curling painfully tight. Sweat dotted my forehead before I could understand what the hell was happening.

  Then, when I looked up, I saw a man standing behind the dais, looking down at me with a smile playing on his lips.

  “Children!” he gestured soon after to the whole group of first-years, his long gray beard dancing slightly with the motion. He had a shock of gray hair as well that fitted the image of a wizened wizard, except this one wore a robe with the fabric torn and ragged. “Welcome to what will hopefully be your new home in the next few years. You may sit now. Don’t just stand there. Go ahead. Sit!”

  We stood blankly as a group for a long second, not sure what the hell we were supposed to do, before our Herald Mage hastily ushered us to the empty seats about the tables. I found a place by the one that stood directly in front of the high platform, with Keralth and Valar beside me.

  “That is Headmaster Magnus,” Keralth informed me right away, which made Valar inch closer to hear more. “A famed Archmage over centuries old. He’s been called many things, but here, in the Academy, he’s known to be a rather eccentric figure.”

  “He doesn’t look much,” Valar said, frowning up at the platform.

  “That’s because his Manual is an odd one,” Keralth said. “He specifically dwells in chaos mana, which is not only the most dangerous type of mana in existence, it also messes with one’s mind. I’ve heard he came very close to losing control many times, but always managed to pull through, unlike those Demonic Cultists. That makes him one of the most terrifying Mages across the Planar System.”

  “I know your little shoulders are heavy with expectation,” Headmaster Magnus, oblivious to Keralth’s little introductory speech, continued with a beaming smile. “I know that you’ve all been raised with purpose and delicate control. You’ve been told many times that the Creator’s Academy would be the cornerstone in molding you to become a better version of yourselves, that here, in the reaches of the Academy, you would rise to achieve the grandest of feats or be prepared accordingly for the purposes of those who raised you. Well, I’m here to tell you that this is simply not the case.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  I leaned stiffly onto the back of the chair, confused as a newborn pup. This wasn’t the case? Then why the hell were we here?

  “You’re here to experience the excitement of youth and to cherish the best years of your lives,” the Headmaster smiled deeply down at us, then waved a hand. “There will be danger, of course. Terrible wounds, surely. Deaths, possibly, but then, only a life lived through adversity and hurdles is a life worth living. Make the best of it. That’s the key here. Make new friends and enemies.”

  “This guy really seems odd,” I muttered when the Headmaster nodded to himself as though he had just spouted the deepest speech there ever was.

  “He’s not wrong, though,” Valar said, eyes locked squarely on the Archmage. “Only a life lived through adversity is a life worth living. I’ll never forget that.”

  “Wise words, indeed.” Keralth nodded. “That’s what you’d expect from an Archmage.”

  I was baffled by the reactions of these guys when an audible pop echoed across the giant hall.

  “Now, before we invite our distinguished Masters, let us gather our new stars, shall we?” the Headmaster said and raised a finger toward us. “Chosen! Make a line in front of the platform. Hurry! A single file!”

  Frozen, I stared about myself, the absence of a cape behind my back feeling painfully real. I wouldn’t be the first one out to admit I was a chosen. That would be like taking all the attention for nothing. People hated talent. I knew I did back in college. Secretly, of course, since I wasn’t yet at the point of breaking my social chains and challenging the high popularity of, say, the football team, but I hated those muscular guys because, with just their presence alone, they could command a room and make girls salivate with passion.

  Yes.

  I had to be clever about this. Let the other guys make a move. Then I would follow them silently, like an inconspicuous addition to their group.

  And as expected, someone walked out from the tables just then. It was a young woman who strode out with a spring in her step, a glint in her eye, and a confident kick to her heels. She gave a disdainful glance back over her shoulder at the rest of the first years, then placed her hands on the handles of the daggers sheathed at her belt.

  “Red hair,” Keralth said. “Red eyes, as well. That combination can only mean one thing.”

  “The Crimsonpale Dominion,” Valar said.

  Keralth’s eyes widened slightly at him. “That’s right! If I’m not mistaken, we are in the presence of the youngest member of the Dominion’s Hierarchy, namely the Bloodbound’s only daughter, Seres Tara. She looks just as dangerous as her father.”

  “Dangerous?” Valar scoffed. “The Bloodbound’s merely a Celestial Knight. The Butcher of the Dawn once swept the floor with him. Made him kneel like a bloody bastard before her Emperor. He would’ve licked her toes had the Emperor not discarded him out of mercy.”

  My head hurt.

  “Which is why she must hate the Dravians with passion,” Keralth said, glancing over his shoulder somewhere back into the room. “Interesting.”

  Thanks to Sera’s bold actions, the others followed shortly after. I could see about a dozen of them in total, which, considering the sheer amount of first years, was really low. One thing they shared was their arrogance. They seemed to think they were a lot better than the rest of us, which wasn’t exactly wrong, but still felt like a dick move. I mean, no need to go about staring at people like they were lessers, right?

  Anyway, there was one person who I couldn’t stop staring at.

  Why, you ask?

  Because she had blond hair and blue eyes. These things alone were not unique. There were plenty of blond people with blue eyes in the crowd. It was just that there was something about her that felt familiar, as if she was someone I was supposed to know, but couldn’t quite put a name to yet.

  “Who is that girl?” I decided to consult my info-bank with a poke to his shoulder. “Do you know her?”

  Keralth frowned slightly up at the young woman, then gave a quick nod. “It’s hard to miss the insignia on that belt. See? That’s the World-Swallowing Snake, the royal emblem of the Dravian Empire. But the face… I’ve never seen her.”

  “Really?” I was a little shocked that there was something Keralth didn’t know. “How can you know a guy who got swept by Mot— I mean, the Butcher of the Dawn—and his kid, but not her? She must be a big deal, no? You just told me the Dravian Empire owns half of the Planar System.”

  “And they’re famous for keeping the royal family away from the public eye,” Keralth said, giving me that disappointed look again, which made me feel like an ignorant villager. “You don’t expect them to showcase their new talent, do you? The heirs of royal families are quite similar to rare jewels. Even if you have a giant force to protect them, someone can and will snatch it if you give them a chance.”

  “I guess you’re right,” was all I could mutter.

  It was one thing that Mother and Belfray purposefully kept me in the dark about our past, but the fact that they’d never taught me anything about the Dravian Empire didn’t make any sense. Granted, the whole point of my attending the academy was to experience the broader world and learn new things, but still, a little something other than that cruel training regimen would’ve been much appreciated.

  So, this girl was my cousin. Or something like that. We were family, sort of.

  Why, then, did the inner voice of my Bloodline seem to hate this woman with a fever? I could feel its passion in the right side of my chest, like a burning ball of molten fury growing stronger with each passing second.

  What the hell was going on here?

  “Leo,” Valar said to me, gesturing with his eyebrows at the line waiting before the platform. “You don’t have a cape.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “That means you’re a Chosen,” Keralth said. “Since you’re a Chosen, you will get your cape from your Master, and for that, you have to take your place in that line. Do you understand?”

  “You— What?” I gawked at him. “I know what I’m supposed to do. I’m not stupid! It’s just that I’m waiting for the right time. I’m picking my moves, alright?”

  “This is the time,” Keralth said, shaking his head deeply. “The Headmaster just made an announcement. You should go.”

  “It ain’t a big deal.” Valar straightened his back. “Courage, friend. Courage is important.”

  “I’m… Fine, whatever.” I decided to stop arguing with these people. There was no point in that. They wouldn’t understand. How could they? There was literally a line of a dozen people standing before the platform, under the eyes of thousands of students, teachers, and the damn Headmaster. Not one of them flinched at the attention. How could they do that?

  I took in a deep breath. Felt my heart settle with a thump. I could do this. There was nothing to fear. The crowd was just noise. Just. Empty. Noise.

  Puffing my chest, I strode out with the best expression I could muster on my face, trying not to think too much about the tiles underneath my feet. Why? Because once you made yourself aware of the ground, then chances were you were going to stumble, or worse, fall down. I couldn’t fall down in front of these people. I had to carry myself with strength. I had to do everything right.

  Right.

  But it wouldn’t hurt to pray a little. There were plenty of Gods to pick, but I chose the Creator for this particular moment, sending my best wishes, hoping that maybe he would give a little heat to my steps.

  …..