Valdre leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “There’s been… movement.”
“Movement?” Klarion echoed, while Hatsune’s ears perked up as she straightened in her chair.
“Yes,” Valdre said, his tone clipped. “Someone has been making moves behind the scenes. Someone, or a group of someones, is up to something, but we haven’t been able to figure it out. Yet.”
“That’s a bit cryptic, Valdre,” Klarion responded after a moment. “How do you know something is going on?”
Valdre clenched his hands on top of the table, his expression now filled with frustration. “How do I know?” he repeated. “Because the few scions I’ve made acquaintance with beyond those at this table have been talking less than usual, and in places where they usually can’t shut up. The kind of silence that reeks of fear or complicity with something currently happening.”
He leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. “Contacts that used to share gossip about the Archducal Scions suddenly have nothing to say. The usual rumors about scandals or intrigue are drying up, and even the workers on campus are keeping their mouths shut. That doesn’t happen unless something is in the process of happening.” Valdre’s eyes narrowed as he added, “Whatever it is, I think it’s coordinated. I can practically feel it in the air, Klarion. The tension right before the storm.”
The half-frost elf tapped the table with one finger, in a slow and deliberate rhythm. “Something is going to happen. And the only reason I’m not fully in the dark is that I’ve survived enough schemes alongside my family before coming here to know when someone is trying to pull the rug out. The only problem is, I still have no idea who — or why.”
Klarion frowned, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table. He hated feeling like a pawn on someone else’s game board. House intrigue, politics, secret plots — they were all part of a world he’d been thrust into without any real preparation by Alesin and Rolfun. He realized bitterly that, despite bearing the name Blacksword, he had not really received anything beyond limited, outdated information about the current state of the House he was now associated with. In fact, despite what Franz had originally told him, his arrival at the Academy had been met with eerie silence from House Blacksword. No letters, no contact, no support. Without those, he was left in ignorance about so much. Indeed, ignorance was his greatest weakness right now. His eyes dropped down to the book about House Blacksword.
He was going to stay up all night reading if he had to.
Klarion turned his attention back to Valdre and Redrek, who were still watching him, waiting for him to respond. He straightened in his chair, resolve hardening in his chest. If Valdre was right — and Klarion suspected he was — then something dangerous was on the horizon. And Klarion couldn’t afford to be caught unaware. But did it really matter right now? After all, he had only just survived an assassination attempt. Surely Chadwick, Hector, and their supporters among his classmates were the more immediate threat?
“I believe you, but is this more important than what just happened to us in the Dungeon the other night? Surely that is the more immediate—”
“I bring it up,” Valdre said, interrupting him, “because if it is Caspian Brightcoin that is making moves, that means his allies are, too.”
“Chadwick Copperhand being one of the more important ones,” Redrek added right after Valdre finished speaking.
Klarion’s tapping on the table paused as his fingers curled into fists. First, trying to take Hatsune, then the part he played in trying to get him killed. The thought of him playing a role in whatever scheming Caspian was capable of was enough to make his blood boil.
“Alright,” Klarion said finally. “I’m listening.”
Valdre nodded, relaxing now that he knew they had his attention, but before they could delve further into the conversation, the sound of footsteps signaled Ordran’s return, a round of drinks for the newcomers in hand. He set them down, only for them to be quickly snatched up by their recipients. Even Valdre was drinking tonight it seemed.
“Meals’ll be out shortly,” Ordran said with a wink before returning to the kitchen.
The tension at the side of the table that held Valdre and Redrek lightened as they enjoyed the drinks that the veteran dwarf had brought them. After a long, slow drink, Valdre sat his mug down. He wiped his face, then returned his attention to Klarion while Redrek continued drinking.
“Before I get to my speculation, I want to hear from you about the Dungeon. Garran mentioned that I should talk with you, but he didn’t go into much detail. What exactly happened?”
“Before I tell you,” Klarion said, setting his own mug down, “I first want to hear about what you have heard.”
“Hmm.” Valdre stared at him a moment before nodding. “I’ve heard some rumors. Strange ones.”
Klarion tilted his head slightly. “Rumors? What kind of rumors?”
Before Valdre could respond, Redrek set his own mug down with a low chuckle, his sharp hobgoblin features lighting up with mischief. “Oh, you know. The usual for Academy gossip. Except this time, it seems someone in the first year attempted the Dungeon known as The Pit.”
Klarion frowned, his grip tightening on his mug. He had expected the events of the previous night to spread, but he hadn’t anticipated the story being distorted into something so… vague. He glanced at Hatsune, who returned his look with a slight narrowing of her eyes.
“And, I’m guessing even before Hatsune spoke to Garran and Kael, that you both thought it was me,” Klarion said evenly, turning his attention back to Valdre and Redrek.
“Of course we thought it was you,” Redrek said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Even though you hadn’t tried to, you’ve been making waves since you first got here, Klarion.”
Valdre held up a hand, cutting off the hobgoblin’s teasing. “Yes, but I for one would like to hear the truth the rumors are based on,” he said seriously. “Garran and Kael” — he gestured briefly to their respective bodyguards, who still stood silently behind them — “mentioned that we should hear from you the rest of the story. Something about an… incident?”
Klarion exhaled slowly, glancing down at the table for a moment to gather his thoughts. He wanted to make sure he left nothing out. As he stared down, he could feel the weight of their stares, the unspoken demand for answers. After he had everything straight in his mind, he looked back up, meeting first Redrek’s eyes then Valdre’s.
“You’re right, there is more to the story,” Klarion said. “I was the one the rumors are alluding to. But I wasn’t trying my luck in the Dungeon. I am not that foolish.” He shook his head. “No, what really happened was an attempted assassination by Dungeon.”
The words hung in the air like a blade suspended over the table. Redrek’s smirk disappeared instantly, replaced by a look of sharp interest. Valdre’s expression hardened, and even though Garran and Kael knew a bit of what he was saying already, they still exchanged brief, wary glances.
“An assassination?” Valdre echoed, his voice a mix of disbelief and concern. “Are you certain?”
“As certain as I can be,” Klarion replied. “Hector lured Hatsune and me into the building that surrounded the Dungeon under false pretenses. Once they had us where they wanted us, Hatsune was cast down into The Pit, and after more scions aligned with Chadwick showed up I was given a choice: jump in willingly or be thrown in by them.”
Hatsune, who had been silent until this point, crossed her arms and leaned over the table. “He’s not exaggerating what happened,” she said, her voice cold. “Chadwick and Hector set up the visit to the Dungeon to get Klarion into a position where The Pit could do their dirty work. It was only luck we were able to fight our way out.”
The table was silent, the gravity of the situation settling over them. Finally, Redrek broke the silence with a low whistle. “Damn,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s… bold for a first-year. Especially this early in the year.”
Valdre’s brows furrowed as he leaned back in his chair. “And you think the threats against you aren’t over?”
“I don’t think,” Klarion said grimly. “I know. Chadwick told me as much after Etiquette and Courtly Manners was over. He said, one way or another, I would be gone from the Academy before the end of the year. With how he said that, I think they will try harder next time.”
“Beyond Chadwick and Hector, do you have any idea who else was involved?” Valdre asked.
“I remember the faces of the scions who had been there, but I don’t know their names or Houses.” Klarion glanced over at Hatsune who fidgeted a little under his intense look. “I was worried about my bodyguard who had just been forced into The Pit during the time when the other scions arrived.”
“That’s a dangerous position to be in,” Valdre said. “Without names and the Houses they belong to, you can’t act. And without action, you will remain vulnerable.”
“I know,” Klarion said, his voice tight as he turned back to the half-frost elf. “That’s why I need your help.”
Redrek raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “I know we have all come to an arrangement regarding supporting one another in unlocking their classes. But what you’re suggesting is something entirely different.”
“Redrek is right,” Valdre agreed looking from the hobgoblin back to Klarion. “If you are asking for our help specifically to counter those that engaged in your attempted assassination, we will be fully on your side from now until graduation, and likely beyond.”
“I know,” Klarion agreed. He drew in a steadying breath, aware that the weight of what he was asking would change things between them forever. He already considered them friends, and they had agreed to help each other unlock the classes they wanted, but this was something far more dangerous. What he was asking for went well beyond what they had previously agreed — this was about his survival.
“I know what I’m asking,” Klarion began. “And I know it’s not small. We’ve agreed to work together to research and help unlock the classes we want, and that is invaluable to each of us. But someone tried to kill me. Is trying to kill me.” He looked from Valdre to Redrek. “I know I won’t be able to deal with this alone, not based on how strong I am now. I have some ideas to even the playing field, but before I lay them out, I need to know: Can I count on your help?”
Though the attention of Garran and Kael remained mostly fixed on the surrounding tables and the door toThe Hearth & Ember, each shot glances at their scions. Valdre and Redrek exchanged a long, weighted glance, no words passing between them at first. Klarion got the sense that, despite them being very different people from even more different backgrounds, they had more in common with each other than would be apparent at a casual glance. Hopefully, one of those things included an interest in helping someone being targeted by half the first-year scions.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“He’s got guts,” Redrek muttered, his attention shifting back to Klarion.
“He does,” Valdre agreed, a thoughtful expression on his face as he did the same as the hobgoblin. “Reckless, perhaps. But then again, most interesting decisions at the Academy would tend to be.”
Without blinking, Redrek gave Klarion a short, satisfied nod. “Been itching for a way to strike back against the bigots of our year anyway. Being the unending target of red skin and monster jokes gets old fast.”
Valdre looked hard at Klarion’s face, tracking every shift in his expression. “Now, I’ll say it again: if we say yes to this, we aren’t just your research partners anymore. We’re tying our fates to yours. That’s no small thing in the Academy, especially if those targeting you right now decide to act directly against us as well. What you’re asking is a two-way street.”
Klarion nodded, his resolve still firm. “I know. And I won’t forget it.” He extended his hand across the table. “You want a two-way street? You have it. With everything that entails. I might not have much to offer now, but I will. I’ll do everything in my power to support you in turn, whether that means standing with you against your own enemies or helping you achieve your goals here at the Academy. Whatever it takes.”
Redrek snorted, and before Valdre could respond, he reached across the table to grab Klarion’s outhrust hand. “Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no?”
Valdre shook his head, but his expression said he was, if anything, amused. “I must be as reckless as you. Fine. I’m in too.”
Klarion let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Relief mixed with gratitude flooded through him. “Thank you,” he said. “From here on out, we watch each other’s backs.”
Agreement reached, Valdre pushed his amusement aside to focus on the topic at hand. “Alright, assassination attempts tend to suggest that someone, or a group of someones, view you as a threat,” he said coolly. “And threats either rise above the game at hand or get snuffed out. So. What ideas do you have?”
“To be honest, I don’t have any connections or resources at the moment. For some reason, I have received no contact from House Blacksword after arriving here, despite being told that I was being sent here on their behalf,” Klarion grimaced, but continued on anyway. Another thing to look into. “Anyway, until I find out what is going on with House Blacksword, I can’t rely on them. That much is clear to me. So, with that being the case, every idea I have is based on building up my own base of support.”
Redrek’s lips twisted into a wry grin. “So you’re thinking about making your own House, for all intents and purposes, then? Building your own power base from scratch?”
“Not quite that extreme, but something like that, yes,” Klarion admitted. “But to do that right, I need allies I can trust. Even with you both onboard, we’ll need more support.”
The weight of his words settled on the table like a heavy shroud. Valdre returned to tapping with his fingers, gaze locked on the middle distance as if contemplating what to say next. Redrek leaned back, lips pursed in thought, before letting out a growl that turned into a groan. When everyone surrounding the table looked at him, he let it die off.
“Look. Since we’re laying everything ok, I might as well tell you,” Redrek said reluctantly after Kael nodded at him. “Things haven’t exactly been easy for us here. Beyond the politics of the Archducal Houses, and the fact that there is some movements happening in the background, there are other factions, too. The worst being The Ivory Banner. They’ve been making things particularly… difficult.”
Valdre gave a sharp, bitter laugh. “Difficult is putting it lightly. They’ve been far more active among the first-years that my family warned me they would been. They have been a pain in the ass since I arrived.”
Klarion straightened. The Ivory Banner wasn’t something Rolfun or Alesin had told him about, and this was the first time hearing the name since coming to the Academy. “The Ivory Banner? Who are they?”
“They are many things, but their core purpose is the fight for human supremacy,” Valdre practically spat before freezing, looking at Klarion to see how he would react. When he simply motioned for the half-frost elf to continue, he relaxed and said, “They’ve been subtle about it, for now. Whispers in the halls, backhanded comments, and minor inconveniences that just happen to impact the non-humans in our year. What few of us there are. Nothing blatant enough to call them out publicly — at least, nothing they can’t deny or spin. And everything falls far short of needing to get the Sentinels involved.”
Redrek scoffed, a frown forming on his face. “Tell him straight, Valdre. This isn’t just whispers and backhanded comments. It’s about sending a message, making sure we know our place. Whoever is backing them has influence, Klarion — connections that go higher than the first-years.” Valdre grimly nodded, but let the hobgoblin continue. “They don’t like us because we’re not human. But it isn’t just us. I’ve already seen a couple of my non-human classmates start skipping classes, despite how important this first year is. I’ve even heard rumors that a wood elf scion has returned home already. Rumors that explicitly mention the influence of The Ivory Banner.”
Klarion felt a flare of anger sparking in his chest. Anger at how his friends were being treated, but also at the fact that there was yet another potential threat he might have to deal with at the Academy. “But they haven’t done anything outright dangerous?”
“Not yet,” Valdre said. “But it feels like it’s only a matter of time. Garran and Kael have been on edge for days now. They’re convinced that things are going to escalate further before the year is over.”
Klarion looked over the other scions, seeking confirmation from their bodyguards. One of the dwarves at a nearby table sputtered curses as his neighbor tipped his full mug into his lap as a prank. No one at their table turned, instead waiting for the bodyguards to speak.
Kael nodded, his expression unreadable but his body was still clearly tense, “I can’t confirm it, but I think we have been followed by someone, or a group, intermittently over the past few days.”
Garran crossed his arms and added to what his fellow bodyguard said, “The Academy might have rules, but rules only work if people follow them. And from the fact that an assassination attempt has already been made on an Archducal scion, I’d say that it looks like there are plenty of scions here who think the rules don’t apply to them.”
“All the more reason to move quickly, then. The way I see it, the most important thing we need to figure out is who our enemies are,” Klarion said, having been thinking about what steps he could take with their support.
“Agreed,” said Valdre. “Specifically, the ones who orchestrated the assassination attempt on you, but also the ones connected to The Ivory Banner. Though, I have a feeling there might be some overlap.”
“But how do we find them?” Hatsune chimed in, a mix of apprehension and determination in her voice as she spoke. Looking at her, Klarion could tell the seriousness of the conversation was getting to her, and though she clearly still seemed to want to stay silent, had voiced the question he was thinking about himself.
Klarion saw how Valdre’s eyes flicked toward Hatsune as she asked her question. The half-frost elf’s lips parted, apparently ready to deliver a firm admonishment for speaking when he caught Klarion’s expression — an unmistakable warning on his face. Valdre hesitated, reconsidering what he was going to say. He exhaled softly through his nose, a hint of tension dissipating from his posture. Instead of snapping at her, he shifted his focus back to Klarion.
“That’s where we come in,” Valdre said smoothly, already forgetting what he had been going to say to the Leporine. “Redrek and I both have some contacts — people who hear things, even in places we can’t reach. We’ll start there. Garran and Kael can also help by keeping their eyes and ears open around other bodyguards and the staff of the Academy.”
Redrek chimed in, his sharp grin returning. “And if we need to do some digging in places we’re not supposed to? Well, I’ve got a knack for that sort of thing.”
Klarion was curious as to what the hobgoblin meant but decided not to ask for details. He had a feeling he didn’t want to know.
“We also can help you rebuild the House Blacksword faction here on campus,” Valdre continued as if the hobgoblin hadn’t interrupted him. “Given those beginning to make moves against the non-humans in the first year, and the possibility that supporters of House Brightcoin have already associated us with you, keeping you alive will help keep us alive as well. While I expect you will eventually receive some degree of support from House Blacksword, that might not be enough. That means our involvement in recruiting other scions to our side, as well as gathering supporters and assets. Prestige and power go hand in hand at the Academy, and without them, we’ll always be on the back foot.”
“Will there really be that many other scions open to aligning with us?” Klarion asked. “I’ve got to assume many of those in our year are already a part of one of the other Archducal factions.”
“True,” Valdre acknowledged. “But not all of them. Especially among the non-human scions. We just need to find them and offer them something they can’t get elsewhere.”
“Like what?” Klarion asked.
“Safety, for one,” Redrek answered. “And opportunity. Not everyone is here to play politics — some just want to get stronger or make connections that will benefit them after they graduate. If we can offer that, we’ll have a chance.”
“But none of that matters if we don’t get stronger. The Academy only requires us to take four classes this year, which leaves us with plenty of extra time,” Valdre said looking around the table at each of them. “While we are working to pick a class, and eventually unlock it, we should use whatever remains wisely — extra studying, extra training, maybe even hiring tutors.”
As Valdre and Redrek got swept up in talking about ways to go about maximizing their time to gain greater strength and levels, Klarion couldn’t help but think over his own schedule.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Klarion began, interrupting their talk over the benefits of various combat skills. “Do either of you know why there are only four required classes? And three full days off? With so much free time during the week, it seems like the Academy could fit in more.”
“My father told me it was a test of the Academy,” Redrek said. “As a scion, you can lay around, enjoying the food and company until you graduate to become another small cog in the machinery of the Empire. But the ones who want to get ahead, to secure themselves and their futures against others, will work to fill those gaps with optional studies, tutoring, and other pursuits to prepare for the needs of the Empire after graduation.”
“And more. We scions are the future of the Empire,” Valdre added. “So the Academy provides a foundation for our education, but anything beyond that? That is left up to us to pursue.”
Redrek leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “And it’s not just about the week-to-week schedule. The same logic applies to the structure of the year. A second-year scion that I happened to meet told me that after the first four months of classes, we will have one month off before another four months of classes, after which there is a three-month break. It’s designed that way to give us time to visit our families and to gain real-world experience.”
Klarion frowned thoughtfully. “Real-world experience? Like what?”
“I asked that too, and it depends,” Redrek said with a shrug. “Apparently, some scions use that time to work alongside the Legions, honing their combat skills in real battles. Others dive into wild Dungeons, either for personal growth or to gather resources for their Houses. Then there are those who focus on governance — traveling to their House’s outlying territories to learn how to manage their holdings.”
“But that is all down the road,” Valdre said, returning the conversation to their immediate goals. His eyes glanced over at the books Klarion had brought before returning to his face. “I noticed you already purchased a primer on classes. Having an option beyond the Archives to look into classes could be useful, especially with enemies looking over our shoulders. Would you be willing to share it with us?”
“Of course,” Klarion nodded. “I’d be happy to share it with you both. From the table of contents, it only goes up to rare classes, but it could still give us a better idea of what is out there and maybe help us plan our next steps.”
“That would be helpful,” Valdre said with gratitude. “Most scions are unable to unlock a rare class, with some settling for uncommon, and even fewer unlocking something rarer. It’s possible that the primer you have there might hold classes that call to each of us.”
Klarion hesitated for a moment, before deciding he should return the trust they had given. “I might also have a lead on another source of information and support. Someone who could be an invaluable ally. But I’m not ready to reveal who they are just yet — I need to make sure I can trust them first.”
Valdre nodded, his expression one of understanding. “Fair enough. Trust isn’t something to give lightly in the Academy.”
The sound of heavy footsteps approached the table. Ordran returned, bringing with him a large tray balanced effortlessly in his large hands. The scent of roasted vegetables, perfectly seared meats, and rich sauces filled the air as he set their meals down on their table.
“Here ye are,” Ordran said, his deep voice gruff but warm. “Specials for all but the half-elf who gets the vegetarian option.”
Valdre gave a small smile as the dwarf set a plate piled high with steamed greens, roasted root vegetables, and a savory mushroom dish in front of him. “Thank you, Ordran.”
They each gave their thanks as the plates were handed out, Kael and Garran finding seats as well.
“Enjoy your meal, and holler if ye want seconds,” the dwarf said, turning back to head into the kitchen.
The seriousness of the conversation dissipated as they all began to eat. For Klarion, the rich flavors and hearty portions were a welcome distraction from what tomorrow would bring. It was nice just to enjoy the warmth and camaraderie of his friends and allies after a long day.
So of course that was the moment when the door to The Hearth & Ember slammed open and a group of scions entered with their bodyguards. Eyes jerking to their entrance, Klarion saw a familiar face at the front.
“Where are you, you red-skinned bastard!” cried the wiry woman from the Dungeon, her burly bodyguard with the axe right behind her.
Looks like there was some overlap among the groups of his enemies after all.