PREVIOUSLY-
"Looks like we're all stuck with our fates for now," Raphael said, his voice lighter than before. "But hey, we've got each other. We'll make it work."
Sig nodded, though he wasn't sure what "making it work" would look like just yet. All he knew was that this was just the beginning.
The headmaster cleared his throat. "Now that everyone's class has been assigned, I expect great things from all of you. This is where your journey begins, and your paths may lead you to places you never imagined."
Sig's eyes flickered over to the fountain one last time. He wasn't sure what the future held, but he had no intention of being defined by a simple title. Not when there were threads yet to be pulled.
*-*-*-*-
"Now," Thalorin declared, "it is time for the Evaluation Exam."
The hall quieted. Students glanced at one another, puzzled.
"Evaluation exam?"
"Haven't we already arrived at the academy?"
Thalorin cleared his throat with theatrical flair.
"This examination," he explained, "will determine your initial ranking, your dormitory placement, and the courses you'll be permitted to major in."
With a snap of his fingers, a glowing hologram of a three-tiered pyramid materialized above him, slowly rotating.
"Those who place in ranks one to thirty," he began, as the topmost tier shimmered, "may choose up to four courses to specialize in."
The tier faded into mist.
"Ranks thirty-one to one hundred," he continued, "may choose up to three courses."
The second tier dissolved.
"And those who rank between one hundred and one to six hundred twenty five," Thalorin concluded, "may only select two."
The entire projection vanished into sparkling particles.
"And those from six hundred twenty five to one thousand two hundred fifty, may choose only one."
Before murmurs of protest could ripple through the crowd, Dean Rosalia rose from her seat, her presence alone enough to silence the hall.
"You will be divided into fifty groups of twenty-five," she announced firmly. "You may choose your own group members."
Excitement burst like wildfire.
"Let's go with the Imperial Princess!"
"I'll follow Young Master Renold Marbrand!"
"May we join you, Prince Lucan?"
A flock of students swarmed toward the academy's elite, eager to align themselves with prestige.
At the far end of the hall, a subtle stir occurred. A group of girls gathered around a quiet figure with long, flowing blue hair. Her eyes—like twin shards of sapphire—were striking, but it was her stillness that stood out. Though her pale cheeks tinged red from sudden attention, her expression remained unreadable.
Her hands trembled slightly, but her demeanor was composed.
"Miriel Raventhorn, may we join your group?" one girl asked hesitantly.
Miriel gave a soft, reluctant nod. One became five. Five became ten. Her group swelled, just like those of the imperial siblings and the Marbrand heir.
From across the room, Renold Marbrand sneered.
"Well, would you look at that," he chuckled with mock surprise. "Our timid little Miriel's gathering quite the following."
Miriel remained silent.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" he pressed. "If there's even a shred of pride in you, challenge me."
Raphael clenched his jaw and started forward—
"That son of a—"
Leon grabbed him by the shoulder, holding him back.
"Ralph, it's usually you pulling me back," Leon muttered. "What role reversal is this?"
Theo and Sig watched, eyebrows raised in silent agreement.
Raphael locked eyes with Miriel for a moment before stepping back beside his friends.
Finally, Miriel spoke—her voice calm and cool as snow.
"What sort of challenge?"
Renold grinned, emboldened.
"We all join the same group. You, me, and the Imperial siblings." He turned to them with exaggerated courtesy. "What say you, your majesties?"
"Very well," Seraphyne replied with a graceful smile.
"I accept."
"As do I," Lucan added, a faint smirk on his lips. "If you're prepared to lose, Renold."
Renold beamed and clapped his hands.
"Wonderful! Then let's—"
TAP.
A hand landed on his shoulder.
Renold spun around, irritated.
"Who dares—"
He paused mid-sentence. Standing behind him, smiling politely, was Leon, with Raphael, Theo, and Sig in tow.
"Mind if we also join in?" Leon asked, a glint in his eye.
Renold's sneer returned.
"Who the hell are you supposed to be?"
Leon bowed slightly, but his voice carried weight.
"Leonatus Leonhart." He gestured to his companions. "This is Raphaeldor Tigranclaw, Theobald Umbra, and Sigmund Ferros."
Renold faltered.
"You—You're the duke's sons? You dare you country bumpkins insert yourselves in—"
He froze. A wave of murderous intent crushed down on him like iron chains. He looked up to see Leon's emerald eyes locked onto him—sharp and unforgiving, like a lion stalking prey.
TAP.
Raphael stepped forward, hand lightly resting on Leon's shoulder.
"Then there's no reason to be afraid of us then," he said coolly. He turned to the others. "Your Highnesses, Lady Miriel, do you object to our inclusion?"
"No," Miriel replied simply.
"You are heirs to ducal houses," Lucan acknowledged. "It is only right."
"I don't care," Seraphyne added, already turning her attention to the ten glowing portals that awaited them.
Miriel studied their group, then tilted her head.
"We each have five. Wouldn't you need one more?"
Raphael smiled. "We appreciate your concern, my lady, but four will suffice."
She gave him a curious glance, then quietly followed Seraphyne toward the portals.
"How did we end up in this again?" Sig asked, scratching his head.
A FEW MOMENTS EARLIER —
Just as Raphael rejoined his friends, a sharp ding echoed through the clearing. Their system windows flared to life in synchrony.
[MENTOR UPDATING]
[MENTOR CONNECTED]
The boys glanced instinctively at their screens. Then—
[MENTOR — DRELGOR, THE HOLLOW LANCE]
[MENTOR — THREXIL, THE BLACK KNIGHT]
[MENTOR — SKALEG, THE BONE PIPER]
[MENTOR — GORVAX, THE GRAVEHOWL]
On Leon's interface, a sigil of a horned knight's helm began to glow. Beneath it, a name was etched in faint silver script:
[MENTOR — THREXIL, THE BLACK KNIGHT]
Raphael's screen pulsed next—a tall, narrow helm with jagged vertical bars manifested like a ghost from the past:
[MENTOR — DRELGOR, THE HOLLOW LANCE]
Sigmund's window revealed a shadowy, hooded symbol. Letters curled around the base:
[MENTOR — SKALEG, THE BONE PIPER]
And on Theo's screen, the bleached, snarling bone of a wolf gleamed faintly:
[MENTOR — GORVAX, THE GRAVEHOWL]
Then a high-pitched, nasal voice burst from Raphael's screen, full of misplaced cheer:
"Threxil? Skaleg? Gorvax? You there?"
A low grunt rumbled from Leon's window.
"Threxil. Present."
A long, exhausted sigh from Sig's screen followed.
"Skaleg. Regretfully present."
Then a booming, exuberant voice erupted from Theo's display.
"Gorvax is here, lads and ladies!"
Drelgor groaned.
"Gorvax, let's focus on the lads for now."
Threxil chuckled, dry as rust.
"Naturally. The ladies wouldn't focus on him."
"OI! What'd you say, you lanky pile of scrap!?" Gorvax bellowed.
"Can we please focus on the mission Master Vincent entrusted to us?" Skaleg interjected with another sigh.
Drelgor's voice returned, firm now.
"Skaleg is right. Enough fooling around—let's concentrate on the task at hand."
Leon scoffed, arms crossed.
"By all means, enlighten us, dear sirs."
Raphael added, smiling with forced politeness,
"Yes, please do share what vital mission awaits us."
Gorvax answered cheerfully,
"Oh, right. You lot are supposed to accompany the Imperial siblings or something."
Theo blinked.
"The Imperial prince and princess?"
"Correct," Threxil confirmed.
"And there's a secondary assignment involved."
Sig arched a brow.
"Assignment?"
Skaleg exhaled deeply.
"Indeed. First, all of you must rank within the top ten. Second—Theobald must wield an axe, and Sigmund will be using steel wire. You may continue using your primary weapons, of course. Third—taming scrolls will be issued to Sig and Theo. You're to tame a creature of your choosing."
Before he could continue, Gorvax cut in loudly,
"And the rewards are— Basil, Skyvolt, and an explanation."**
The moment the names Basil and Skyvolt were uttered, both Raphael and Leon straightened like soldiers at attention.
"We accept!" they declared in perfect unison, bowing low.
"Wait—what!?" Sig sputtered.
Leon clasped his hands pleadingly.
"Sig, please. It's been years since I last saw Basil."
Raphael turned to Theo, voice soft.
"Please."
Theo nodded, understanding.
Sigmund hesitated, then grumbled,
"Fine."
BACK TO THE PRESENT —
The air shimmered as Imperial Princess Seraphyne stepped through the archway, regal and cold. Behind him followed the Imperial Prince Lucan, Renold and Miriel.
Leon took a breath, then glanced back at his party, steadying his nerves.
"Let's go."
Together, the boys stepped forward toward the portal's glow.