《The Dragon Knight of the Academy [YA, Coming of Age]》 1. Dragon of Calamity [Scene Loading...] [Location: Northern Mountains, Uninhabited Wastes] [Date: June 30, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] "Stick together, men!" Artax De''Godfrey called loudly, his voice battling against the howling winds. "Use your Aura, if you have any left! No use freezing here on the mountainside!" His words scattered across the grey and rocky slopes, whipped among the boulders and dead trees that clung to the harsh terrain. Ahead of him, the path wound steadily higher, vanishing among jagged crags and towering cliffs. Behind him, he could sense the flagging Auras of his men as they struggled forward. Several knights stumbled, their armor weighing them down as the bitter cold penetrated metal and leather alike. Artax braced against another gust, planting his feet firmly as the wind threatened to topple him. He drove his sword into the frozen ground, using it as an anchor before pressing onward. "Sire!" Artax''s second in command, a man by the name of Constantine De''Minziar, fought his way forward. His face was red from the cold, his breath visible in short, rapid bursts. "Sire, we have to turn back! The men are weakening!" "We received a report, and a credible one, that a pack of dire wolves is massing in the mountains." Artax snapped, scanning the path ahead for signs of movement. His hand never strayed far from his sword hilt. "We''re not stopping until they''re gone." "But sire, they aren''t going to affect the Kingdom!" Constantine pressed, grabbing Artax''s arm. "The report said that they''re threatening Cilia, the kingdom to the north of us! We''ll be fine!" Artax wrenched his arm free and rounded on Constantine. The knight took a half-step back at the intensity in his commander''s eyes. "The Kingdom of Athia has always come to the aid of our allies!" Artax''s voice cut through the wind like a blade. "Cilia came to our aid when we were invaded by the barbarian hordes not twenty years ago, and before that, they''ve fought on our side dozens of times throughout the centuries. I will not abandon their people." "But sire..." Constantine continued, his gloved hand gripping the hilt of his own sword. "Please! The mountain pass between Cilia and Athia is famous for how dangerous it is. In the winter it''s entirely impassable." "And this is the middle of the summer." Artax turned and started walking forward once more. "Come! Be of good heart!" He ground his teeth together as he walked off. Constantine was a good warrior, but House Minziar was a house of cowards. None of their knights who had ever served underneath him wanted to go into battle, and that was just a fact. As he walked along, noting the labored breathing of his men behind him, he sighed. "Activate Emblem of Valor." There was a small flash of light from his chest. The silver medallion embedded in his armor pulsed with energy, illuminating the surrounding snow with a blue-white glow. Heat radiated outward, melting small patches of frost around him as the Emblem''s power flowed through the group. [Emblem of Valor has been activated] [All Allies in the area have been given a 100% Stat increase] [All Allies in the area have been given [Resist Elements]] [All Allies in the area have been given [Resist Despair]] [...] The effect was immediate. Behind him, men straightened their backs as renewed energy flooded their limbs. Their breathing steadied, and the clanking of armor became more rhythmic, more determined. Artax nodded as he confirmed the effect, and continued his march forward. The path grew steeper, forcing him to dig the edges of his boots into the ground for traction. He had worked hard to amass his Emblems, fighting for years through Leoncrest Academy, and then working his way up the ranks of the Imperial Forces. Some people considered him to be the greatest knight in the land, but he didn''t know about that. There were several others who were almost as good, and as he had never fought against them, he couldn''t presume to- Movement. Ahead on the trail, a quick shadow darted between two outcroppings. Artax froze, his hand instantly finding the hilt of his sword. The metal was cold even through his gloves. "What was it?" Constantine called, his voice lowered to a sharp whisper. "I don''t know." Artax murmured, eyes narrowed as he scanned the terrain. "Maybe a troll. Maybe just a deer." It was a lie, of course. He had seen the briefest flutter of cloth, likely a cloak. Someone was waiting for them. The question was who. Artax drew his sword in a smooth motion. The blade caught what little sunlight penetrated the clouds, the silver etching of House Godfrey''s crest visible along the fuller. He took point, gesturing for his men to fan out behind him in a defensive formation. They pressed onward, and soon reached the crags that he had seen from below. Here, sheltered from the winds, they made slightly better time. The path continued to wind sharply upward, though Artax knew it would soon level out to cross a flat plateau for about half a mile. It was that half-mile that would be the most dangerous, due largely to the fact that it looked quite easy. What most people didn''t realize was just how powerful the winds in that region could be, funneled through the mountains at truly extraordinary speeds. As they approached the plateau, Artax kept his eyes moving, searching for the stranger. He was sure he had seen... There! Movement again, but further ahead. Something very strange was happening, and he didn''t have the faintest idea what it could be. Did that mean he was going to turn back? Not at all. He hadn''t completed the thirty-four trials just to be seen as a weakling, to turn away at the first sign of trouble. As they pressed steadily forward, he gripped his sword more firmly, its weight a reassurance. "Something the matter?" Constantine was at his side again, hand resting on his own weapon, eyes darting nervously from side to side. "Possibly." Artax kept his voice low, attention focused on the path ahead. Every instinct in his body screamed ambush. "Tread carefully. Spread the men in defense formation delta." Constantine turned white but nodded, moving back to relay the commands. The knights shifted positions, creating a more defensible arrangement with shields at the ready. Artax crept forward, sword held at the middle guard position. And then, he heard it. A sound that turned his blood to ice. Flap. Flap. Flap. Heavy, rhythmic, and unmistakable ¨C the beating of massive wings. "Dragon!" Artax bellowed, voice thundering through the pass. "Run for the plain, now!" He raced forward, boots pounding against the frozen stone. A dark shape shot overhead, momentarily blotting out the sky before circling back. Artax''s mind raced through calculations and possibilities. They were trapped in a narrow pass ¨C perfect for the dragon''s breath attack to decimate them all at once. "Move! Move!" he shouted, pushing one of his men forward as the soldier stumbled. Ahead of him, the opening to the plateau loomed, and he raced through it as fast as his legs would carry him. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh! A blast of cold wind hit him from behind. Artax spun, dropping to one knee as he pivoted, sword raised in a defensive posture. The dark form shot overhead once more, massive wings creating downdrafts that threatened to knock the knights off their feet. His men came right behind him, and an instant later, a blast of ice and snow exploded through the pass. The temperature plummeted as frost formed instantly on armor and weapons. When the icy mist cleared, one of his knights stood frozen in place, encased in a block of ice, killed instantly ¨C his face locked in a grimace of surprise. "Shield wall!" Artax commanded, but it was too late. The dragon flashed across the plain, then banked sharply, wings fully extended as it came crashing down. Four massive claws dug into the granite of the mountain''s surface, ripping deep gouges in the stone. Its scales gleamed like polished obsidian, reflecting blue-white light from the surrounding snow. It must have been two hundred feet long from nose to tail, with wings that spanned twice that length. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. The creature''s eyes ¨C deep blue with slitted pupils ¨C fixed on Artax. It lowered its head, a deep growl reverberating through the ground beneath their feet, and began to advance. "It''s an ambush!" Constantine cried. "Run!" "No!" Artax snapped, stepping forward. "Try to run, and it''ll kill you in an instant. The only way out is through." "We can''t kill that thing!" Constantine''s voice verged on panic. Several knights took steps backward, their resolve crumbling. "Speak for yourself." Artax raised his sword, the blade catching the light. He grabbed his shield off his back ¨C a heavy kite shield bearing the house crest of House Godfrey, a silver sword set against swirling stormclouds. "Form them up in a defensive position. I''ll have a go at the beast." Before Constantine could object, Artax charged across the plain. The dragon''s maw opened in what could only be described as laughter ¨C a deep, rumbling sound that echoed off the surrounding mountains. The wind raged against him, threatening to knock him off his feet with each step. Along with it came bone-chilling cold that cut through his armor, numbing his skin where it touched metal. Artax focused inward, channeling his Aura. "Activate Emblem of Heat." A red glow emanated from a second medallion on his chest plate. Warmth spread through his body, pushing back the numbing cold and allowing him to maintain his speed. The dragon raised itself up, rearing to its full height before slamming its head down. Its jaws opened wide, and a blast of freezing breath swept across the plain. An ice dragon. One of the most dangerous varieties. Artax raised his shield and braced himself, feet planted firmly. He channeled his Aura into the shield, creating a faint blue barrier over its surface. The blast of ice hit him like a battering ram, the force of it pushing him back several feet, his boots carving furrows in the stone. Ice formed around the edges of his shield, but the Aura barrier held. When the blast subsided, Artax charged at the monster once again, shifting his Aura into his legs to increase his speed. The dragon''s eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Alright, beast." He snapped, closing the distance between them. "Time to show you what a real knight of the realm is worth." The dragon snarled, its head darting forward like a striking snake. Jaws wide enough to swallow a man whole snapped at Artax. He dove to the side, rolling across the frozen ground before springing back to his feet in a single fluid motion. He channeled his Aura into his sword, causing the blade to glow with bright blue energy. The dragon struck again, and this time Artax stood his ground. He swung the sword with all his might, timing his strike perfectly. The Aura-enhanced blade connected with the dragon''s jaw, and there was a mighty blast of light and energy. The dragon''s head jerked sideways from the impact, and a roar of pain and surprise erupted from its throat. Rargh! The beast stumbled backward, one claw raised to its wounded jaw. Seizing the advantage, Artax rushed forward. He channeled his Aura into his legs, muscles tensing as he launched himself upward in a leap that no ordinary man could achieve. He sailed over one of the dragon''s massive claws and brought his sword down on the creature''s right wing joint. The blow didn''t penetrate as deeply as he''d hoped, but the Aura-enhanced strike still cut through several layers of scales. The dragon roared in pain and outrage, its wing folding awkwardly. Artax landed on the thing''s back, boots finding purchase between the large, plate-like scales. He raised his sword high, the blade pulsing with energy. "Activate Emblem of Strength!" A golden light joined the blue Aura around his sword. The combined energies created a swirling vortex of power that extended the effective length of the blade. With a battle cry, Artax drove the sword downward with all his might. Scales cracked and burst under the blow as the sword penetrated deep into the dragon''s flesh. Thick, black blood poured from the wound, steaming as it hit the cold air. The dragon screeched in agony, its entire body convulsing. Artax lost his balance as the creature bucked and thrashed. He was thrown from the monster''s back, tumbling through the air before hitting the ground hard. He rolled several times across the frozen terrain, his armor scraping against stone. Pain shot through his left shoulder as he came to a stop. Quickly, he climbed back to his feet, ignoring the pain. His sword remained lodged in the dragon''s back. Unarmed now, he reached for the short blade at his waist as the dragon turned toward him, rage in its eyes. [You have wounded Socrax, Frost Dragon of the North] Artax''s eyes snapped open wide as the notification registered in his mind. This was Socrax? One of the eight legendary Dragons of Calamity? Encountering one was rare, but when they were encountered... Well... All eight had been known since the first age, and not a single one had been defeated yet. Perhaps that would all change today. "Constantine!" Artax called out, his voice carrying across the battlefield. "Get these men out of here! Organized retreat, not a rout! Just get them out of here!" His words were, once again, snatched away by the wind. Socrax seemed to sense his concern though, and started plodding toward his men, tail lashing behind it, gouging deep furrows in the stone. Artax set his jaw, and drew himself up straight. "You''ve already killed one of my men!" He roared, voice competing with the wind. "You''re not getting the rest of them!" He flew at Socrax, feet pounding on the granite. The dragon was fast, but Artax poured his Aura into his legs, pushing himself beyond normal human limits. His muscles burned with the effort, but he moved just a fraction faster than the beast expected. The dragon caught sight of him and turned, but too late. Artax leapt into the air, propelled by Aura-enhanced strength. His short blade gleamed as he aimed for the creature''s neck. "Ahhh!" He collided with the beast''s neck, and drove his blade into the flesh with every ounce of his strength. The sword struck deeply, carving into the monster''s jugular. Thick black blood poured from the wound, steaming as it hit the cold air and painting the white snow with dark rivulets. Artax landed and stepped back, gasping for breath. His Aura reserves were dangerously low ¨C he could feel the telltale emptiness growing within him. "You have exhausted your Aura, little one!" The dragon roared, its voice deep and resonant like an avalanche. Black blood continued to flow from its wounds, but still it stood. Great. So it could talk. "I''m still standing here." Artax snapped, raising his remaining weapon ¨C a small dagger from his boot. "Try me." The dragon lunged forward, its massive head driving toward him like a battering ram. Artax snarled and raised his shield. He channeled the last remnants of his Aura into it, and as the dragon crashed into him ¨C countless tons of muscle and scale ¨C there was a blinding flash of light. The dragon staggered from the impact, momentarily stunned. Artax was knocked clean off his feet, sent tumbling across the plateau until he slammed into a boulder. Pain exploded through his back and ribs. He staggered to his feet, wincing as sharp pain shot through his torso with each breath. Broken ribs, definitely. Socrax raised a massive claw and brought it crashing down toward Artax. Quickly, the knight flipped his short blade upright, planting the hilt of it on the frozen ground and bracing it with both hands. There was a mighty crash as the dragon impaled its own foot on the sword. Artax rolled away at the last second, narrowly avoiding being crushed. The dragon stumbled backward, roaring in pain and fury. Artax leapt back to his feet, reaching for another weapon, but found nothing. His sword was broken ¨C the immense force of the dragon''s weight had shattered it, leaving him with just a foot of jagged steel. He gaped at the broken blade, then slowly looked up at the beast. Socrax seemed to laugh, a rumbling sound that shook loose snow from nearby cliffs. The dragon slowly lowered its wounded paw, black blood dripping onto the white snow. This wasn''t going to take much longer, and they both knew it. "Sire!" Constantine appeared at his side, shield raised. "What are your orders?" At that moment, the dragon spread its wings and rose up into the air, climbing higher and higher into the sky despite its injuries. It circled once, then twice, gaining altitude with each pass. "Get them to cover." Artax snapped, scanning the battlefield. His men were scattered, many injured, some still fighting to stand. "No. No, it''s too late for that. Brace for impact!" The dragon came roaring back down, tucking its wings in a dive that increased its speed exponentially. Artax braced himself, gritted his teeth, and raised his shield above his head with his good arm. "Activate Emblem, Shield of Glory!" The final Emblem on his chest activated with a brilliant flash. Golden light erupted from his shield, expanding outward in a dome that encompassed all his men. The barrier shimmered like a second sky above them. Socrax struck an instant later, its full weight and momentum crashing against the golden shield. The impact sent shockwaves across the plateau, cracking the stone beneath their feet. The dragon bounced off, tumbling through the air to crash against the cliffs. Inside the dome, Artax screamed as the feedback from the shield tore through his body. He felt several more bones snap under the strain, and blood began to trickle from his nose and ears. The golden light flickered, threatening to fail. With every ounce of strength that he had left, Artax raced toward the stunned frost dragon. His vision blurred, blood now flowing freely down his face. Magic leaked from his wounds, spraying across the frost and snow in bright blue droplets. The dragon slowly rose, shaking its massive head to clear it. It fixed its eyes on Artax, and actually laughed. "You could have killed me. You chose to save your-" "Ahhhh!" Artax roared, spinning and throwing the broken hilt of his sword with all his might. He channeled the last dregs of his Aura into the weapon, transforming the jagged metal into a brilliant shaft of light. The makeshift projectile streaked upward, its trajectory true. It slammed into the monster''s right eye with a wet crunch. Socrax roared in agony, rearing back as the light from the Aura-infused metal seared the sensitive tissue. "Leave! Now!" Artax bellowed, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. The dragon slowly rose and tried to fly, but its wounded wing made proper flight impossible. It stumbled and crashed again into the cliff wall, sending boulders tumbling down. Desperately, it crawled along the mountain slope, its massive claws digging deep furrows in the stone and snow. Artax watched it go, one arm clutched around his broken ribs, the other hanging uselessly at his side. He saw the dragon disappear among the higher peaks, and only then did he allow himself to sway. He collapsed to his knees, then fell forward onto the frozen ground. "Artax!" Constantine ran to him, dropping to his knees beside his commander. "Are you okay?" "No." Artax coughed, his mouth filling with the metallic taste of blood. He spat onto the snow, leaving a crimson stain. "That sword... Was..." He sighed, gathering what little strength he had left. "That was fine steel from House Arnette. It was a graduation gift. I''m going to be in so much trouble." Constantine laughed, though it was humorless, and he shook his head. "Well, we''ll get you off this place and back to the Capital. You''ll be able to heal, there." "No." Artax murmured, his voice growing weaker. "Not the capital. I''ll never be a warrior again. My Aura is broken." Constantine inhaled sharply. For someone to break an Aura... It was a terrible thing. A wounded Aura could heal. A broken Aura was forever useless. "Take me home." Artax let his eyes close, trying to tune out the howling of the wind and the broken landscape around him. "Take me back to the Godfrey Estate." He felt strong arms carefully lifting him. He was too weak to walk, and he knew that he would soon lapse into unconsciousness. The cold was seeping into his bones now, his Emblems inactive without Aura to power them. As he was borne away, though, he wasn''t concerned about his own health. He would survive, if in a somewhat diminished capacity. What might not survive was House Godfrey. On the decline for the better part of a century, it was one of the weakest noble houses now, and with him gone, who would take up the reins? There was only one person who could... And Artax didn''t have the faintest idea if he would be up to the task. [Scene Close] [Active Quests:] [Return Home - Return to House Godfrey Estate] [Pep Talk - Speak to Zeke about the future of House Godfrey] 2. The Second Son [Scene Loading...] [Location: Godfrey Estate - Godfrey Palace] [Date: July 15, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] "Cannonball!" Zeke ran down the old wooden dock and jumped high into the air. He tucked his knees tight against his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and grinned as he fell toward the lake. The splash was impressive, sending water shooting up several feet and scaring a pair of ducks that had been floating nearby. He stayed underwater for a moment, feeling the coolness surround him. This lake had been his refuge since childhood. Where Artax had first taught him to swim. His place when everyone else was busy with "important things," Zeke would slip away to swim. He pushed deeper, looking for treasures on the lake bottom before his lungs started burning. With a strong kick, he shot back to the surface. Zeke shook the water from his hair and looked toward the shore where Madeline was watching. She wore a simple green dress that matched the surrounding trees, and she was laughing at his display. "That was quite a splash!" she called, clapping her hands. "Though I think you scared half the wildlife in the area." "That''s the point!" Zeke replied, treading water. "Come on in! The water''s perfect today." "In my dress? I don''t think so." Madeline gathered her skirts a bit higher from the damp grass. "Besides, I can''t swim." "You can''t swim?" Zeke was genuinely surprised. "But you''ve lived near the river your whole life." "My father forbade it after my cousin nearly drowned when we were children," she explained with a shrug. "Not everyone has a private lake to practice in." "Well, that''s something we need to fix," Zeke said. "Everyone should know how to swim." "Not today, Lord Zeke," Madeline replied with a teasing smile. "I''m not a lord," he corrected automatically. "Just the second son. Artax is the heir, the future lord and I wish him well with all that responsibility." Madeline''s expression softened, but before she could respond, Zeke ducked underwater again. He swam toward the deeper part of the lake, where he knew something that might impress her. Zeke had discovered years ago that certain spots in the lake had freshwater clams. Most were empty, but sometimes you could find pearls inside them. As he got older and started bringing more girls from the village to the lake, he''d made an arrangement with the village jeweler. For a small fee, would provide him with pearls that Zeke could "discover" in clams he''d prepared ahead of time. But for Madeline, he wanted to find a real one. He scanned the muddy bottom, fingers working through the silt with practiced ease. His lungs started to burn again, but just before he had to surface, his hand closed around what he was looking for. He grabbed the clam and kicked up, breaking through the water with a gasp. Swimming back to shore, he saw Madeline watching him with concern. "What happened? You were under for so long," she said as he waded out of the water. "I was looking for something," Zeke replied, water dripping from his clothes. He hadn''t bothered taking them off before jumping in, which would definitely annoy Sampson later. The thought made him smile. "What did you find?" Madeline asked, curiosity replacing concern. Zeke held out his hand, showing her the mud-covered clam. "A gift from Lake Godfrey." "A... dirty shell?" She looked unimpressed. "Not the shell," Zeke laughed. "What might be inside." Understanding dawned on her face. "A pearl? Really?" "Let''s find out," he said, kneeling by the water to clean off the mud. Once the shell was clean, he started working at the opening, applying pressure in just the right spot. "Won''t that kill it?" Madeline asked, kneeling beside him despite the risk to her dress. The question surprised him. Most visitors never worried about a clam''s fate. "Not if we''re careful," he said, though he wasn''t entirely sure. "We can put it back afterward." She nodded and leaned closer to watch. Her shoulder touched his, and despite his wet clothes, he felt a warmth spread through him. "Here," he said, his voice a little rough. "You try." He guided her hands to the shell, showing her where to press. Her fingers were warm against his, strong yet gentle from years of working in her father''s bakery. "Gentle but firm," he instructed. "Like this." Together they worked at the shell until, with a satisfying pop, it opened. Madeline let out a small gasp. "There''s really one in there!" In the center of the clam lay a small, slightly uneven pearl. Unlike the perfect ones Zeke sometimes bought from the jeweler, this one was natural, a bit odd shaped and with an uneven surface. It wasn''t large, but it had character. "It''s beautiful," Madeline said softly, touching it with a fingertip. "It''s yours," Zeke said, carefully taking the pearl and placing it in her palm. "A real treasure from the lake." Her eyes met his, searching. "Real? You swear it?" Zeke felt his face grow warm. Did she know about his pearl tricks? Did the village girls talk about him? "I swear it," he said firmly. "I didn''t know for sure there would be one. It was luck." She studied him for a moment, then closed her fingers around the pearl. "Thank you, Zeke. I''ll keep it safe." He gently returned the clam to the water. "May you make many more," he said to the sinking shell. "Do you do this often?" Madeline asked as they walked away from the shore. "Find pearls to impress girls from the village?" Zeke nearly tripped over a root. "What makes you think¡ª" "Brigid showed me hers last month," Madeline said with a knowing smile. "Perfect and round as a dewdrop, she said. Amazing how you found it ''just by chance'' that day." Caught, Zeke sighed dramatically and pressed a hand to his chest. "You wound me deeply. Are you saying I''m not the luckiest pearl-finder in all the kingdoms?" "I''m saying," she replied, tucking her pearl into a small pocket in her dress, "that this one means more because it wasn''t planned." Before Zeke could respond, a servant appeared with a picnic basket. Zeke nodded to him, pointing to a clearing under a large oak tree. The servant went to set up their meal while Zeke guided Madeline that way. "You planned this," she said, though she sounded pleased. "I had hopes," he admitted. "Though I didn''t expect to be exposed as a fake pearl-hunter." The servant had spread a blanket under the tree and placed the basket in the center before quietly leaving. Zeke helped Madeline sit down, suddenly aware of how wet his clothes still were. "Should you change?" she asked, noticing his dripping shirt and pants. "You''ll catch cold." "And miss a minute with you? Never," Zeke said, though he did wring out his sleeves. "Besides, it gives Sampson something new to lecture me about, and he loves his lectures." Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Zeke opened the basket with exaggerated flair. "Let''s see what we have today." He pulled out a wrapped bottle. "Wine from the palace cellars. Year 437 of the Fourth Age." "A special vintage?" Madeline asked with a hint of skepticism. Zeke paused, remembering that someone in her family worked with the village winemaker. Instead of his usual exaggeration, he examined the bottle honestly. "Actually, it''s pretty ordinary," he admitted. "But good company makes even simple wine taste better, don''t you think?" Her smile grew at his honesty. "I think you''re right." He uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses, then raised his in a toast. "To real treasures and unexpected finds." "To second sons who occasionally tell the truth," she countered, tapping her glass against his. The wine was as ordinary as he admitted, a bit tart with hints of berries, but Zeke didn''t mind. They ate the cheese, fruit, and bread from the basket while talking easily. Madeline told him about her father''s bakery, the early mornings, and the satisfaction of creating something people needed. Zeke shared stories about growing up in the palace, carefully avoiding topics like his father or his brother''s achievements. They were comfortably silent when a sharp crack came from the nearby trees. Zeke turned quickly toward the sound. "What was that?" Madeline asked, setting down her wine. Zeke stood up, scanning the forest edge. The estate had walls around it, but parts had crumbled over the years. Wild animals sometimes got in¡ªusually harmless ones, but occasionally something dangerous. "Stay here," he said, taking a step toward the trees. Before he could investigate, a large wild turkey strutted out from the bushes. Its tail feathers were spread wide in an impressive fan, and several smaller turkeys followed behind it. "Oh!" Madeline relaxed and smiled. "Look at him, he''s like a king with his court!" "Or Queen," Zeke agreed, watching the bird''s confident walk. Something about the turkey''s commanding presence bothered him. The way the other birds followed it, the unquestioned authority¡ªit reminded him too much of Artax. His brother moved through the world with that same confidence, commanding respect without even trying. Even the servants always looked to Artax first. His brother was, for all things, a hero. "He''s magnificent," Madeline said, not noticing Zeke''s darkening mood. "We rarely see them so close to the village." "They''re smart birds," Zeke said, trying to sound casual. "Too smart to go where they might end up on a dinner table." The turkeys moved on, disappearing into the trees as quietly as they''d appeared. Zeke and Madeline returned to their picnic, but the easy feeling was gone, at least for Zeke. As Madeline ate a peach, she watched him carefully. "Tell me about your brother," she said. "The stories in the village make him sound like a legend." Zeke held back a grimace. Even here, Artax''s shadow found him. "What do you want to know?" "Is it true he killed the Beast of Many-Fangs with just a wooden training sword?" "It was a real sword," Zeke corrected, "and the ''beast'' was just a large boar that was causing trouble in the southern villages." He picked at a loose thread on the blanket. "Still impressive, since he was only fifteen." "And did he really save Duke Thalridge''s daughter from bandits while disguised as a regular traveler?" "That one''s mostly true," Zeke admitted. "Though the ''bandits'' were former soldiers, and he had two squires with him, not that anyone remembers their names." Madeline tilted her head. "You don''t like these stories." It wasn''t a question, and Zeke didn''t treat it as one. Instead, he leaned back against the tree trunk, looking up at the branches above. "Did you know there''s a statue of Artax in the main square in the capital? They made it when he was twenty-three, after he finished the 34 Trials faster than anyone before him. He stands twelve feet tall in bronze, next to statues of heroes twice his age." "And there isn''t one of you," Madeline said quietly. "Why would there be?" Zeke shrugged. "What have I done worth making a statue of? I''m good at swimming, but I doubt that''s enough for the royal sculptors." "Not everyone needs to be a hero," she said simply. "Absolutely, I''m content to drink my families wine with good company" Zeke took a breath, forcing his usual carefree smile. "But enough about my famous brother. Would you like to see something special? The statue garden is beautiful this time of year." Madeline clearly saw through his attempt to change the subject, but she nodded anyway. "I''d like that." They packed up the picnic, and Zeke led her toward the palace. The huge stone building stood at the center of the estate, surrounded by gardens that had once been the pride of the kingdom. Now, like most of the estate, they showed signs of neglect, still beautiful, but clearly fading. They walked through a rusty gate into a flower garden full of blooms in every color. Ivy covered the walls, and bees moved busily among the flowers. Zeke picked a striking red and black flower, rare outside the royal gardens, and gave it to Madeline with an exaggerated bow. "My lady," he said in his best court voice. She took the flower with an equally theatrical curtsy. "My lord is too kind." He guided her toward another archway almost hidden by hanging vines. They came out into the statue garden, and Madeline stopped in her tracks, clearly amazed. Dozens of marble and stone figures filled the large space, knights in battle poses, nobles standing formally, mythical creatures frozen in motion. Many showed signs of age: a warrior missing an arm, a horse without a leg, and several so covered in moss and vines that you could barely tell what they were supposed to be. Still, the overall effect was impressive. In the center was a small fountain fed by the same stream that supplied the lake. Its basin had cracks, letting small streams of water escape, but it still worked, with water spraying up from the stone fish at its center. Zeke sat on the edge of the fountain, running his fingers through the water. "What do you think?" "It''s amazing," Madeline said, walking slowly around a stone griffin. "Like stepping into an old story." "Or ruins," Zeke added, watching her. "Not ruins, history," she corrected, stopping at a statue of a knight with a raised sword. "Each one has a story. What was this place like when these were new?" Zeke shrugged, leaning back against the fountain. His tutors had tried to teach him House Godfrey''s history, but he''d usually been planning ways to escape to the lake instead of listening. "The basics are simple," he said, watching her trace the stone shield with her fingers. "A hundred years ago, during the barbarian wars, House Godfrey sent all their sons to battle. Only one came back alive." "Just one?" Madeline''s hand stopped moving. "My great-grandfather," Zeke nodded. "And every Godfrey daughter had been married off to make alliances with other houses. Our family network fell apart." "You lost all the aunts, uncles, and cousins that make up a noble house," Madeline said, showing a surprising understanding of how noble families worked. "Exactly," he said, making patterns in the fountain water with his finger. "The surviving branches grew distant from the main line, and House Godfrey started its slow decline." He gestured at the crumbling statues around them. "My great-grandfather married a commoner, a choice many called cursed when she died after having just one son. My grandfather had only two children before his wife had a riding accident. He paused. "And my mother died right after I was born." "The curse of House Godfrey," Madeline said softly. "I''ve heard traders talk about it in the village." She hesitated. "And the 34 Trials? They say no Godfrey had completed them since the curse began." "Until Artax," Zeke confirmed, standing up and moving to a moss-covered statue. He brushed away some of the green, revealing a stern face he couldn''t name. "Artax, slayer of beasts, savior of maidens, and all-around perfect knight." "You admire him?" She asked. Zeke nodded. "Yes." "Will you try the Trials?" she asked quietly. Zeke laughed, though something inside him stirred at the question. "Not likely. My path was decided when I was born." He spread his arms wide. "Artax becomes the head of the family, defender of the realm, restorer of Godfrey glory. I marry well and have lots of children, as many as possible, to keep the family line going. Not a bad life, really." As soon as he said it, he knew he''d made a mistake. Madeline went still, her expression cooling. "I see," she said carefully. "So a baker''s daughter wouldn''t count as ''marrying well.''" Zeke stepped toward her, suddenly panicked. "Madeline, that''s not, I mean, my great-grandfather married a commoner, things are different now, but!" She shook her head, cutting him off. "I should get back to the village before dark." "Please," he said, reaching for her hand. "I didn''t mean, I''m sorry." "Didn''t you?" She pulled her hand away, though she seemed more resigned than angry. "I''m not offended, Zeke. We both knew what this was. A nice afternoon. A pretty pearl. A memory." She started walking toward the garden exit, and Zeke felt the moment slipping away. "Madeline, wait!" "Strike out again, young master?" Zeke turned to find Sampson stepping out from behind some vines, the old steward looking somewhere between disapproving and amused. "Are you spying on me now?" Zeke responded with a groan. "Just making sure the young master doesn''t get into situations requiring, careful handling," Sampson replied, brushing leaves from his perfect uniform. He glanced toward Madeline''s retreating figure. "Shall I escort the young lady back to the village?" "No," Zeke snapped. "She doesn''t need an escort, and I don''t need a keeper." "Evidence suggests otherwise," Sampson said dryly. "Your reputation in the village grows with each girl you disappoint. The estate''s position is already fragile, complications would be unwise." "We''re already dying out," Zeke said, gesturing at the crumbling statues around them. "Might as well enjoy the ride down." "That is not for you to decide," Sampson replied, his tone firmer than usual. "Your brother returns tonight. Perhaps you should prepare yourself rather than chasing village girls." Zeke felt like he''d been dunked back in the cold lake. "Artax is coming home? Today? Why didn''t anyone tell me?" "I''m telling you now," Sampson said simply. "Meet me on the western wall one hour after sunset. You''ll have the best view of his approach from there." He paused, looking Zeke up and down. "Unless you''d prefer to greet him soaking wet and smelling of lake water?" "No, I don''t, I''ll get ready." Zeke replied Sampson nodded and left the way he''d come, disappearing behind the vines. Alone in the statue garden, surrounded by the worn remains of Godfrey glory, Zeke felt suddenly empty. He walked to the tallest statue, a knight on horseback with sword raised high, and looked up at the worn face. Time had erased the details, leaving only a suggestion of features. Was this how people would remember House Godfrey? Faceless figures slowly crumbling away? Or would Artax''s legend save them all, his brightness pulling their house out of its decline. Zeke turned away, walking through the palace grounds with no real destination in mind. He thought about Madeline, about the real pearl in her pocket, about the moment between them. Maybe that was his true talent, not swimming or finding pearls, but ruining the moment. ****** That evening, just before dusk, he found himself back at the lake. On the small island with its old, broken gazebo, a bird stood watching, white against the growing darkness. Zeke sat down at the edge of the dock, feet dangling in the cool water. Soon, Artax would ride through the gates, no doubt returning from some heroic mission that would add to his legend. The palace would be full of excitement, the servants would rush around, and Father would come out of his study to welcome home his firstborn son. And Zeke? He would stand in the background. A flickering light caught his attention, not stars, but torches, coming up from the village road toward the estate. Banners fluttered from poles, though it was too dark and far away to see what was on them. Only knights traveled like that at this hour¡ªand House Godfrey had only one knight worth such an escort. Artax was coming home. Zeke stood up slowly, drying his feet on the dock before putting his boots back on. It was time to put on the mask he wore so well¡ªthe carefree second son, without ambition or jealousy, content to live in his brother''s shadow. After all, what was one more performance in a lifetime of playing a part he never chose? [Scene Close] [Active Quests:] [What Kills the Cat - Check out the disturbance] 3. The Ice Dragons Price [Scene Loading¡­] [Location: Godfrey Estate - Godfrey Palace] [Date: July 15, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] Zeke run through the stairwells and halls of the estate, down past dusty paintings and walls that were overgrown with vines. When he raced out into the main entry hall, he found his father, Agrian Godfrey, standing tall. The old man was huge, and had a white beard that puffed out and fell down to the middle of his chest. He was a scholar, though he was built like a warrior. Guards clustered around him, and Zeke came running up to him. "Stay back," Agrian''s voice was tense, his eyes fixed on the main doors. He turned and recognized Zeke, his expression grave. "Something''s happened to the expedition." "Artax?" Zeke asked, his chest tightening. "They''ve returned two weeks early," his father replied, the worry in his voice unmistakable. "The scouts report they''re carrying wounded. You don''t need to see this." "Let him stay my lord." Sampson walked into the room, folding his hands behind his back. "He should be here." Agrian nodded, his focus returning to the doors. "Prepare yourself." Zeke stepped back, standing beside his father as the massive oak doors swung open. An exhausted war party staggered in, their armor scorched and crusted with frost. Six knights carried a stretcher between them, moving with the careful precision of men bearing something precious and fragile. They lowered the stretcher to the floor before Agrian. The House patriarch rushed forward with an anguished cry that sent ice through Zeke''s veins. "My boy!" Lying there, his face pale as midwinter snow, was Artax. His legendary armor, a pride of House Godfrey , was shattered across the chest, the metal warped as though crushed by an immense force. His eyes were slightly open, unfocused, and his skin had a bluish tint that Zeke had only seen on corpses. Agrian took Artax''s hand and recoiled. "He''s cold." "We encountered something on the pass to Cilia," said a knight, stepping forward. Zeke recognized Constantine, his brother''s second-in-command. The man''s face was haggard, with a fresh scar running from temple to jaw. "Something I thought existed only in old stories." "Speak plainly," Agrian demanded. Constantine swallowed hard. "A dragon, my lord. Not a lesser drake or wyvern that rangers occasionally hunt in the borderlands. A true dragon, an ancient ice wyrm from the Northern Wastes. The kind not seen in three centuries." A murmur of disbelief rippled through the guards. Even Agrian''s face showed shock. "We need to get him to the infirmary," Agrian cut him off. "Now!" They quickly rose and rushed him off, and Agrian stood up and put his head in his hands. He groaned and slowly leaned against a wall, the weight of what was happening clearly visible in his posture. He glanced at Zeke, his eyes with a deep, terrible worry, before he turned to follow Artax''s party. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The rest of that night was spent in silent vigil. Zeke waited outside the infirmary as healing mages worked to save his brother. Agrian paced the halls, entering and leaving the room, dispatching messengers to the capital. Half a dozen messengers arrived at the castle throughout the night, bringing scrolls that made his father''s expression grow increasingly grim. At some point, the butler appeared. "Here," Sampson pressed a small vial into Agrian''s hand. "For your nerves, my lord." Agrian downed the contents without question, and Zeke caught Sampson''s subtle wink as he slipped past them into the infirmary. Zeke remained outside of it all, until, finally, as morning came, a nurse emerged from the infirmary. ¡°He¡¯s awake.¡± She announced. ¡°He¡¯s very weak, but he¡¯s awake.¡± She glanced at Zeke, who suddenly felt a great weight upon him. ¡°If you have anything to say to him, you should say it now, before he falls asleep again.¡± ¡°My father will want to speak to him, first.¡± Zeke answered, his mouth dry. ¡°The Lord of the Castle is asleep.¡± Sampson spoke up. He had been standing nearby, and shrugged. ¡°And I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll wake for some time. That¡¯s what comes from being so worried that you forget to have your butler take a sip of your wine before you do. Terribly easy way to ingest sleeping powder.¡± Zeke almost laughed, and he nodded in thanks to the butler and quickly slipped into the infirmary. There, a few long rows of beds stood at the ready, most of which were empty. A few servants had stabbed themselves with pitchforks and that sort of thing, and at the far end, a section had been curtained off. Zeke quickly rushed forward and pushed aside the curtains, and there, he found Artax lying there, a weak smile upon his face. ¡°Artax!¡± ¡°Zeke!¡± Artax smiled and wearily lifted a hand. Zeke clasped his brother¡¯s hand, and Artax squeezed it weakly before letting it drop again. ¡°Having fun at the castle?¡± ¡°Not as much as you¡¯ve been having on the road.¡± Zeke sighed. ¡°What happened to you?¡± "Lost a fight." Artax shrugged. He glanced at the nurse, who bowed her head and slipped out. The curtain was closed, and he opened his mouth again. ¡°Wait.¡± Zeke held up a finger, then turned. ¡°Sampson?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± Sampson poked his head through the curtain. ¡°Give us a moment." Sampson bowed his head and withdrew, and Zeke turned eagerly back to Artax. His brother¡¯s eyes closed slightly, but he forced them open again. ¡°Big fight. I ran into, ¡± Artax coughed, then leaned forward as best he could. ¡°Socrax, Ice Dragon of the North.¡± ¡°What?¡± Zeke¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°I¡¯ll admit, I never thought I''d run into a dragon, much less get to fight one.¡± Artax¡¯s jaw shifted back and forth. ¡°It was real, though. Just about killed us all.¡± ¡°But you injured it right?¡± Zeke demanded. ¡°That¡¯s what that one soldier said.¡± ¡°Constantine. That his name, and I might have been able to kill the thing if it was me, alone.¡± Artax sighed. ¡°But I needed to save my men, so I did. I fear I''ve doomed us all and our house." ¡°Why would it?¡± Zeke asked. ¡°I mean, It¡¯s not like you died, or anything. You¡¯re still alive, and I¡¯m still alive. Now, we can both marry, and the estate can grow, and-¡± ¡°That¡¯s not how it¡¯s going to work.¡± Artax closed his eyes. ¡°It would take too long to explain, Zeke. You¡¯ve never been involved in the day to day.. You haven¡¯t seen Leoncrest, you haven¡¯t been to the Senate. It¡¯s a horrid world out there, and it¡¯s just getting worse.¡± He paused, then looked up at Zeke. There seemed to be something flickering behind Artax¡¯s eyes, but whatever it was, his older brother suppressed it. ¡°Our house may very well fall with us.¡± ¡°Still.¡± Zeke shrugged. ¡°Better to have saved those people, and not sacrificed your men.¡± ¡°I think so, too.¡± Artax groaned and closed his eyes. ¡°I''m tired.¡± A moment later, he was asleep, and Zeke sighed and slowly walked out of the curtained area. One of the nurses swept past him, and he reached out and flagged her down. "Will he be ok?" Zeke asked. The woman looked up, her eyes ancient despite her youthful appearance. "His body will mend," she said carefully. "But what made your brother special, his extraordinary aura, that is gone. Shattered." "And without it?" "Without it, he is merely a man," she said. "A brave one, certainly, but no longer the champion of the Kingdom, much less the house." Zeke nodded slowly. Everything was about to change, for his brother, for House Godfrey, and for the kingdom itself. And perhaps, for him as well. "Thank you," he said quietly. "Please, let him rest." Suddenly his concerns about missed moments with a pearl and a lake seemed much smaller. The second son might be needed after all. [Scene Close] [Active Quests:] [What Kills the Cat - Check out the disturbance] [Shattered Champion - Discover what Artax meant about the house falling] 4. Legacy [Scene Loading...] [Location: Godfrey Estate - Godfrey Palace] [Date: July 22, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] The next several days were spent in chaos and confusion. Messengers streamed back and forth, sometimes as many as three or four an hour. Zeke could hear his father yelling and cursing from within his office, and more than once, he heard the clatter of something being thrown against the wall. The moment that Artax was back on his feet, he was summoned into the room, and didn''t leave for some time. When he came out, his face was ashen white, and he had to be helped to his room to recover. What could possibly be so bad that it would make Artax look like that? Zeke found himself back in the statuary almost a week after his brother returned home. He held a small sword in his hands, little more than a training weapon, something that he had been given as a present when he was quite young. Now, he held it up, looking at the great warrior whose sword had crumbled. "You look like you''ve seen better days," Zeke murmured. "Both you and my brother." The warrior didn''t answer, its stone face impassive as always. Zeke closed his eyes and focused deep within himself, searching for that spark he''d felt before. The aura that flows through the Godfrey bloodline... it has to be in me too. He felt it then, a tiny flicker of energy. He concentrated, feeling it grow warmer, spreading through his arms. Just like Artax showed me when we were kids... He gave a practice swing, then a second one, his blade cutting through the air with a soft whoosh. The energy was building now, a strange pressure beneath his skin. He gritted his teeth and channeled it into his sword as he swung sideways. ZZAT! A blast of vibrant blue energy exploded between his palms and the hilt of the sword. The weapon rocketed from his grip as if shot from a bow, spinning wildly through the air before clattering across the stone garden floor. The backlash sent Zeke stumbling backward, a searing pain shooting through his hands. "ARGH!" He yelped and plunged his hands into the fountain. The cool water hissed against his skin. When he pulled them out, angry red burn marks crisscrossed his palms. "You''re doing too much." Artax''s called out to him, and Zeke turned to find his brother slowly approaching, pushing through one of the curtains of vines. He moved with none of his usual grace and instead limped carefully. "I''m what?" Zeke asked, still wincing at the pain in his hands. "Until you learn to control your aura, you shouldn''t try to channel it into a weapon," Artax said, his eyes moving to the sword lying several yards away. "Just send it into your arms and hands, strengthening the blow. You only want to add it to a weapon once you''ve learned a lot more control." "Easy for you to say," Zeke sighed and sat down on the edge of the fountain. Artax sat down just next to him, and leaned back, a flash of pain crossing his features as he did. He''s still hurting. Whatever that dragon did to him, he''s hiding how bad it really is. "Do you remember when we used to come here as boys, and practice swordplay?" Artax smiled while pretending to not hold his ribs. "Yeah, I do." Zeke turned to him. "As I recall, you were twelve, and had been training for your whole life on how to use your aura. You could walk circles around me, since I was only six, and didn''t know my aura from an emblem. You''d beat me up, and then tell me that it was just weakness leaving my body." "I did do that, didn''t I?" Artax chuckled, then winced, one hand moving to his chest. "Do you remember when we threw all of Sampson''s clothing in the lake?" The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Zeke burst out laughing. "Yeah, I do! Oh, that was amazing!" He sighed, then scowled. "And then Sampson revealed that the clothes in his room weren''t the ones he wore, anyway. He always changed in the kitchen cellar, to prevent that very thing from affecting him." "Smart," Artax commented. "You''ve got to get up pretty early in the morning to get around him." Zeke nodded, then sighed and looked up at his older brother. "So what are you doing here, exactly?" Artax leaned back and looked up at the sky. "I''m here to support you," he placed a hand on Zeke''s shoulder. "Father and I are going to be leaving in two days to travel to the Capital. I think you ought to come with us." "Father won''t let me," Zeke said, his shoulders slumping. "He will if you DEMAND it," Artax answered, his voice suddenly intense. "I think the trip would do you good. He respects strength. Sometimes, he yells at things because he wants to see it yell back." "He doesn''t want that from me," Zeke replied. "But he might." Artax folded his hands. After a few moments, he glanced over at Zeke, his eyes piercing. "You''re welcome to stay here and do nothing. If you do, you''ll likely be given a fairly reasonable chunk of land. A bit of farmland, an estate house, and a handful of servants to keep it up." Zeke laughed. "Like a true minor noble, is that what your saying?"" "That''s exactly what I''m saying." It took a moment for it to fully sink in. When it did, Zeke''s eyes widened. Everything our family has built for generations... gone? "You''ve certainly seen the messengers," Artax continued. "A lot is happening, most of which you probably don''t even begin to understand. If our enemies get their way, they will destroy House Godfrey. Utterly and completely." Zeke balled his hands into fists, ignoring the pain that shot through his burned palms. He couldn''t let that happen. He slowly looked up at the statue of his ancestor... or at least someone who was related to his ancestor... or something. He sighed, then nodded. "I''ll speak to Father." "Good," Artax stood up, his face momentarily twisting with the effort. "Then I''ll make sure that he comes to dinner." [Quest Updated: What Kills the Cat - Speak with Lord Agrian] ***** The rest of that day, Zeke contemplated his approach carefully. He didn''t yet know what he would do at the Capital, but staying behind was no longer an option. When dinner came around, he sat down in his usual place and waited patiently. The servants brought in a single plate of food and set it before him, then withdrew silently. Zeke waited, keeping his composure despite his growing hunger. After all, if his father was coming, it would be proper to wait. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, then thirty. The grandfather clock in the corner marked each minute with methodical precision. Finally, a servant returned from his father''s office carrying two plates¡ªboth scraped clean. Zeke nodded to himself. So that''s how it is. He rose from his chair with quiet determination and made his way through the castle. His steps were measured, purposeful. This wasn''t about anger¡ªthis was about taking his rightful place. None of the servants attempted to stop him as he approached the great doors of his father''s office. The towering oak panels stood before him, carved with the Godfrey crest. He paused briefly, gathering his thoughts. Then, with a steady hand, he knocked firmly before opening the door and stepping inside. Agrian looked up from his desk, where he was writing a letter. Artax stood just behind him and gave Zeke a subtle nod of encouragement. "Yes?" Agrian asked, his quill pausing mid-stroke. "What brings you here?" Zeke stepped forward, his posture straight and confident. He hesitated for just a moment, not from fear but from considering his words carefully. [Notice: You are gaining strength from a nearby Emblem] A warm confidence spread through him, not replacing his resolve but reinforcing it. The air around him shimmered slightly with a golden light. "Father," he said, his voice clear and steady, "I''m here to discuss my role in whatever crisis our house is facing." "Your role?" Agrian set down his quill, giving Zeke his full attention. "Yes," Zeke replied without wavering. "I understand Artax''s condition has changed things for our family. Whatever threatens House Godfrey concerns me as well, and I intend to help address it." The room fell silent. Artax''s expression shifted from surprise to something resembling respect. "You believe you can contribute?" Agrian asked, studying his younger son with newfound interest. "I''m a Godfrey," Zeke stated simply. "I may not have completed the Trials or led men into battle, but that doesn''t mean I''m not concerned. This is our family''s survival." He met his father''s gaze directly. "I''m asking to join you at the Capital and to be included in whatever plans you''re making." Agrian leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. He glanced at Artax, who gave him a slight nod. "Interesting," Agrian said finally. "Sampson!" As if he''d been waiting just outside, Sampson appeared at Zeke''s side. "Yes, my lord?" "Take Zeke to the library," Agrian commanded. "Provide him with information on all the noble houses and the current political landscape." He turned back to Zeke, evaluating him with new eyes. "You have until morning. At first light, I''ll assess what you''ve learned. Demonstrate that you can grasp the complexities we''re facing, and you may accompany us to the Capital. Fair?" "Fair," Zeke agreed with a confident nod. "Thank you, Father." [Quest Complete: What Kills the Cat] [New Quest: Cram Session - Learn from Sampson] [New Quest: Pop Quiz - Pass Agrian''s Test] As Sampson led him from the room, Zeke felt a new sense of purpose settling over him. This wasn''t about proving himself anymore¡ªit was about stepping up when his family needed him most. He glanced back at Artax, who gave him a subtle smile of approval before the doors closed behind them. The second son steps forward. [Scene Close] [Active Quests:] [Cram Session - Learn from Sampson] [Pop Quiz - Pass Agrian''s Test] [Shattered Champion - Discover what Artax meant about the house falling] 5. A Brothers Sword [Scene Loading¡­] [Location: Godfrey Estate - Godfrey Palace] [Date: July 30, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] Zeke spent the entire night in the library with Sampson, poring over ancient tomes and scrolls by candlelight. Maps of noble territories lay spread across tables, genealogy charts hung from the walls, and stacks of political treatises surrounded them on all sides. The butler proved to be a surprisingly thorough teacher, his knowledge of Athian politics both expansive and precise. "House Reinfir controls most of the eastern trade routes," Sampson explained, pointing to a region on the map. "Their sigil is a silver crow on purple. They''ve had territorial disputes with House Stragga for generations." "And Stragga has the golden serpent on green," Zeke recited, committing the information to memory. "They control the iron mines in the south." Sampson nodded approvingly. "Very good. Now, what about their alliances?" By the time dawn''s first light filtered through the high windows, Zeke''s mind brimmed with information about every major and minor house in Athia. He''d memorized sigils, family lines, territories, and the complex web of alliances that bound them together or set them against one another. As the clock struck six, Agrian entered the library. Dark circles under his eyes suggested he''d slept no better than Zeke had. Without preamble, he began the questioning. "House Torlane. Sigil and holdings?" "Black boar on orange. They control the northern forests and the lumber trade. Currently allied with Houses Duvray and Westmoreland through marriage." Agrian nodded, his expression giving nothing away. "House Blackwater''s dispute with the crown?" "Taxation of their pearl fisheries. They claim ancient rights exempt them from the new tariffs established three years ago." The questions continued for nearly an hour, covering everything from trade disputes to military capabilities to marriage prospects among the noble houses. Zeke answered each query with growing confidence, occasionally stumbling but never giving up. Finally, Agrian closed the book he''d been referencing and studied his younger son. "You''ve learned more in one night than most nobles'' children learn in years. Impressive." The rare praise warmed Zeke more than he expected. "Thank you, Father." "Don''t thank me yet. What you''re about to witness in the Capital is the ugly underbelly of Athian politics. It isn''t pretty, and it certainly isn''t fair." Agrian''s expression hardened. "Pack your things. We leave in an hour." As Agrian left, Sampson began gathering the scattered materials. "You did well, young master." "Better than you expected?" Zeke asked with a half-smile. "I never doubted your capabilities," Sampson replied, "only your willingness to apply them." The butler hesitated, then added, "If I may be so bold¡ªthis journey might present an opportunity." "What kind of opportunity?" "Leoncrest Academy lies just beyond the Capital. The premier training ground for knights in all of Athia." Sampson''s voice remained casual, but his eyes were intent. "The 34 Trials are administered there." "The Trials that Artax completed?" Zeke frowned. "But I''m not¡ª" "Not what? A Godfrey?" Sampson raised an eyebrow. "The same blood flows through your veins, young master. Perhaps circumstances will arise where that becomes significant." Before Zeke could respond, a servant appeared to help him prepare for the journey. Sampson''s words lingered in his mind as he packed, a possibility he''d never seriously considered.
The journey to the Capital took four days by carriage. Athia''s landscape unfolded before them¡ªfirst the rolling hills and forests of the southern lands, then the vast central plains with their patchwork of farms and villages. Rivers cut through the countryside like silver ribbons, connecting the various regions of the kingdom. Athia was a rather large country, positioned in the northern part of the continent. It was bordered on the north mostly by mountains and frozen tundra, along with a few small nations that carved out their existence in the harsh landscape. To the west lay an immense desert with several smaller nations scattered through the arid region. To the south and east were nations of more comparable size and power: Lisandria with its vast navies, Ta''land with its mysterious magic academies, and the Kingdom of the Blue Desert with its unparalleled cavalry. During the journey, Zeke absorbed every detail he could from his father and brother. Agrian, though stern, proved a wellspring of knowledge about Athian politics, while Artax shared insights from his time at court. Their conversations often continued late into the night at roadside inns, illuminated by firelight and fueled by the urgency of their situation. "The Godfrey Estate''s position near the southern border has always been strategic," Agrian explained on their third night. "Our knights have historically been the first line of defense against invasions from Lisandria and beyond." "Which is why we''ve developed a reputation for martial excellence," Artax added, his voice still carrying pride despite his injury. "And why certain houses distrust us," Zeke concluded. "They see our military strength as a threat to the internal balance of power." Agrian nodded, something like respect flickering in his eyes. "Precisely. Some have even spread rumors that we collaborate with foreign powers rather than defeat them¡ªabsurd allegations designed to undermine our position." On the final day of their journey, the Capital appeared on the horizon, its white walls gleaming in the sunlight. As they drew closer, Zeke couldn''t help but stare in amazement. He''d heard stories about the Capital his entire life, but nothing had prepared him for the reality. The walls themselves stood nearly a hundred feet tall, crafted from white stone quarried from the eastern mountains. Just outside the main gates rose an immense statue of Emperor Lorian I, founder of modern Athia. In one hand he held an unsheathed sword, in the other an olive branch¡ªsymbols of his motto: "Peace through strength." The statue must have stood two hundred feet high, and Artax mentioned that at night, bonfires were lit in the statue''s eyes, visible for miles across the plains. As they passed through the gates, the city opened before them like a living tapestry. Unlike the fading grandeur of the Godfrey estate, the Capital pulsed with vitality. Streets wound between buildings of every size and description, from humble shops to towering mansions. They passed countless fountains and statues, each commemorating some hero or event from Athian history. The carriage navigated through broad avenues and narrow alleys, sometimes barely squeezing between buildings that seemed to lean toward each other across the street. In other areas, the city opened into grand plazas where hundreds of people gathered to trade, socialize, or watch performers. "There," Agrian pointed as they rounded a corner. "The Senate Building." The structure dominated the central plaza, its massive dome rising above all surrounding buildings. Columns supported the front facade, and wide stairs led up to bronze doors large enough to admit giants. The sight of it sent a chill down Zeke''s spine¡ªnot from fear, but from the sudden realization of what was at stake. As their carriage stopped at the base of the stairs, Agrian''s expression grew grim. "Remember what I told you. The Senate is not a place of honor or justice¡ªit''s a battlefield where the weapons are words and influence rather than swords and shields." "Stay close," Artax added, his face equally serious. "And watch your back. Not everyone here plays by the rules." Zeke nodded, squaring his shoulders as they climbed the steps. Unlike his earlier visits to the Capital, which had been filled with sightseeing and entertainment, this was a mission with the family''s future hanging in the balance. The interior of the Senate Building was even more impressive than its exterior. They entered through the bronze doors into a vast rotunda, the domed ceiling rising hundreds of feet above the floor. The walls were decorated with intricate murals depicting scenes from Athian history, and light streamed through stained glass windows high above. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. The Senate chamber itself was bowl-shaped, with tiered seating arranged in a semicircle. Hundreds of senators in brightly colored robes filled most of the seats, each garment chosen to stand out from the crowd. Above them, galleries packed with civilians watched the proceedings with varying degrees of interest. At the center of it all stood a raised platform with a podium, currently occupied by a portly man with an elaborate robe and a ceremonial gavel. "And now, we will hear from House Stragga, regarding a territorial dispute on the Black River," the man announced, his voice carrying effortlessly through the chamber despite its size. "That''s Duke Minziar," Artax murmured to Zeke. "Current Master of Ceremonies. Not our friend." "Come," Agrian said quietly. "Stay sharp." They made their way down a side staircase to the main floor, where several people waited with scrolls and documents, presumably preparing to present their cases. As the Godfreys approached, the waiting nobles drew back slightly, several turning pale at the sight of Agrian. Duke Minziar caught sight of them and visibly stiffened. He quickly interrupted the ongoing presentation. "I apologize, but this debate will have to be placed on a temporary hold. We have some important guests here today, it would seem. Dropping in without an invitation is Agrian De''Godfrey, and his two sons! Please, welcome them to the stand." The tone carried false cordiality, but the underlying hostility was clear to everyone present. Agrian ascended to the podium with measured steps, his face a controlled mask of dignity. "Thank you for that introduction, Duke Minziar," he began, his deep voice filling the chamber. "I particularly appreciated the note about dropping by without an invitation." His tone darkened as he continued, hands gripping the podium. "It just seemed to me that doing things without an invitation was how you operated around here! I certainly didn''t receive an invitation when you filed an injunction to dissolve House Godfrey lands!" The room fell silent, senators shifting uncomfortably in their seats as Agrian continued. "I didn''t receive an invitation when you filed an injunction to break the line of inheritance between myself and my children! I didn''t receive an invitation when you filed an injunction to formally reclassify House Godfrey as a formerly noble house! I didn''t receive an invitation when you filed an injunction to seize House Godfrey money held within the Central Bank, or when you filed an injunction to loot House Godfrey''s vaults." Duke Minziar stepped forward, his smile oily and insincere. "Please, you must understand. You yourself voted on a similar issue back when House Floghast collapsed." "That was fifteen years ago," Agrian countered sharply. "The last of their family line, who, I might add, died of old age at 110, had just passed away. I still have two living sons, both of whom are capable of continuing the family name. This is unprecedented in the history of our kingdom, and I will not stand for it!" From the upper tiers of the Senate, a tall, thin man in sand-colored robes rose to his feet. "Your family line is broken," he called down. "The charter of House Godfrey states that the patriarch of the House must be a warrior, having completed your little 34 Trials." "And Artax has done so!" Agrian''s voice rose to a roar. "Lord Hobbson, you go too far." "And has now had his aura broken," Lord Hobbson replied with a dismissive shrug. "He is no warrior, not anymore." "You forget that I didn''t complete the 34," Agrian countered, slamming his fist on the podium. Lord Hobbson smiled thinly. "No, we did not forget. You were granted a dispensation, as was your father before you. The excuse of the ''curse'' of House Godfrey ends here. You do not have an heir who meets the requirements. The Senate judged that you were to be dissolved. That''s the end of the story." Zeke watched his father closely, admiring the way he maintained his composure despite the obvious provocation. There was a strategic mind at work behind Agrian''s apparent anger. "Oh, is it?" Agrian''s voice dropped dangerously. "Then I''d like to hear the beginning of it." "Word came back that your boy... Arjax? That sounds right. Word came back that Arjax had been killed." Lord Hobbson affected a concerned expression. "We were all quite relieved when we heard that he had survived, merely had his aura broken, but still." "And what day did you receive that report?" Agrian asked, crossing his arms. "Ahh... I don''t know." Lord Hobbson shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance. "Well, let me illuminate something for you." Agrian pulled out a document from inside his coat. "You received word of my son''s death on July 1st, and you voted to dissolve our lands on the 2nd. That''s remarkably efficient governance." Lord Hobbson simply shrugged again. "Can you blame us for¡ª" "That, though, is nothing compared to the speed of the messenger who brought you the message," Agrian interrupted. "Do you have his name? I''d like to hire him myself." "What do you mean?" Lord Hobbson''s confidence wavered slightly. "Well, my son, Artax, was attacked on June 30th, three hundred miles from this very chamber." Agrian''s voice was dangerously calm now. "They didn''t make it to the nearest village until that night, and given the weather up there, it''s likely that the messenger didn''t leave until morning. According to these reports, the messenger then showed up here at exactly 9:00 am, which means that at worst, he traveled three hundred miles in four hours. That seems like the sort of messenger that I''d like in my employment." A ripple of murmurs spread through the Senate. Duke Minziar puffed out his chest and stepped forward, attempting to regain control of the situation. "Are you insinuating that someone in this Senate hall had something to do with the dragon attack? That someone was able to..." He laughed derisively. "That someone was able to convince a dragon to do their bidding for them?" The chamber erupted in laughter at the absurdity of the suggestion. Dragons were forces of nature, not tools to be manipulated by human schemes. When the laughter subsided, Agrian spoke again, his voice low but carrying. "No. But I do think it possible that my son may have been given incorrect information, leading him into a trap instead of into a rescue situation, which is where he believed that he was going." The accusation hung in the air, causing several senators to rise from their seats in outrage. Some began to leave the chamber entirely, unwilling to be associated with such proceedings. Duke Minziar approached Agrian, speaking quietly enough that only those on the podium could hear. "You''re going to have to play politics better than that, Godfrey, if you want to stay afloat," he muttered. "I will have your land." Raising his voice again, the Duke brought his gavel down forcefully. "The fact of the matter is that we''ve already voted! House Godfrey will be dissolved, as you do not have an heir who can fulfill the charter that you yourself are bound to. That''s the long and the short of it. Case dismissed!" The gavel struck again with finality, and Duke Minziar lowered his voice once more. "Now get out of my sight. Scurry back home, and see what you can do to hide your fortunes before we come for it. You have no way to resist us anymore." Zeke looked at Artax, seeing the barely contained fury in his brother''s eyes. The injustice of it all was staggering¡ªnot just the attempt to dissolve their house, but the likely conspiracy behind Artax''s injury. They had orchestrated the perfect trap: arrange for Artax to face a danger beyond even his considerable capabilities, then move to strip House Godfrey of everything while they were still reeling from the aftermath. In that moment, Zeke saw with perfect clarity what needed to be done. The pieces fell into place¡ªSampson''s comments about Leoncrest Academy, the family charter requiring a warrior heir, the obvious gap in their enemies'' strategy. They had accounted for Artax''s defeat but had dismissed Zeke entirely. Their oversight would be their undoing. Without hesitation, Zeke stepped forward, his voice ringing out through the chamber. "I will complete the Trials!" Every eye in the Senate turned toward him. Zeke felt a momentary flutter of uncertainty, but it was quickly replaced by resolve. He moved past his father and took the podium, standing tall despite the hundreds of eyes fixed upon him. "House Godfrey needs a warrior-heir," he stated firmly. "I will complete the Trials." Laughter rippled through the Senate, but Agrian silenced it by snatching Duke Minziar''s gavel and rapping it sharply several times. When the chamber quieted, Agrian addressed the assembly. "Will you accept it?" His voice thundered through the hall. "If he completes the Trials, if he does what is required, will you accept it?" Lord Hobbson rose again, still smiling. "What a move! The second-born son, trying to take the inheritance of the first? This is incredible!" "No!" Zeke''s response was immediate and forceful. "I accept no inheritance." A confused silence fell over the chamber as all eyes¡ªincluding those of his father and brother¡ªfocused on him with renewed interest. Zeke drew a deep breath and continued. "I will not take the place of my brother. I will be my brother''s sword. He cannot fight; I will fight in his stead. He is the rightful heir, and I will do nothing to stand in his way. I will complete the Trials on his behalf. My honor will be his." The declaration hung in the air, unexpected and therefore powerful. Duke Minziar sputtered incoherently, clearly unprepared for this development. Agrian seized the moment, rapping the gavel again. "Will you accept it?" he challenged. "Will you honor the spirit of our laws, or will you continue down this unlawful path? Will you invite challenge and war?" It was mostly bluster¡ªeveryone present knew that House Godfrey, in its current state, could offer little military resistance. But the public nature of the accusation, combined with Zeke''s unexpected offer, created a situation that would be difficult to dismiss without appearing transparently corrupt. After a tense silence, Lord Hobbson sat down. "We will accept." Like a wave, the phrase spread through the chamber. "We will accept." "We will accept." As the acknowledgment rippled through the Senate, Zeke felt the weight of what he''d done settle upon him. He''d just committed himself to a challenge that had nearly killed his supremely talented brother¡ªa brother who had trained his entire life for it. Agrian turned from the podium and passed Zeke, pausing briefly. "You have no idea what you''re getting yourself into," he murmured, then added more softly, "But thank you, my son." The simple expression of gratitude filled Zeke with a warmth more powerful than any Emblem''s effect. He stood straighter, watching as his father and brother descended from the podium. The Senate was already moving on to other business, but the outcome of this confrontation would reverberate throughout Athian politics. As they exited the Senate Building, Zeke found himself between his father and brother, both of whom appeared deep in thought. "That was well done," Artax said finally, breaking the silence. "Unexpected, but effective." "They never considered you a threat," Agrian added. "That was their mistake." "And now?" Zeke asked. "Now we prepare," Artax replied. "The 34 Trials are no simple challenge. They''ve broken stronger men than any of us." "We''ll need to arrange for your training immediately," Agrian said, his mind already working on the practicalities. "Leoncrest Academy is the obvious choice, though they may resist admitting you." "I''ll handle that," Artax offered. "I still have friends among the instructors." As they reached their carriage, Zeke glanced back at the Senate Building, its dome gleaming in the afternoon sun. He had entered it as the spare son, overlooked and underestimated. He was leaving as House Godfrey''s last hope. He would fulfill his brother''s role and reclaim their family''s honor. All he had to do was try not to die in the process. [Scene Close] [Active Quests:] [Infodump: Learn about the 34 Trials] [Training Montage: Train to begin 34 Trials] 6. Birthright of the Sword [Scene Loading, ] [Location: Senate Chamber - Capital City] [Date: August 5, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] The Senate chamber emptied quickly after the vote, senators and spectators streaming out through the massive bronze doors. Zeke followed his father and brother in silence, still processing what he''d just committed to. The echoing footsteps and muffled conversations felt distant, as though he were hearing them through water. None of them spoke until they reached the street. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows between the towering buildings of the Capital, and Zeke had to squint against the light. Agrian set off eastward without explanation, his stride purposeful. Artax followed, leaning slightly on his cane, and Zeke fell in beside him. "Did I just make a terrible mistake?" Zeke whispered, too quietly for their father to hear. Artax''s expression remained neutral, but he gave a slight shake of his head. "You made the only move available. Whether it proves terrible depends on what you do next." They turned onto a tree-lined avenue where elegant townhouses stood shoulder to shoulder, each trying to outdo its neighbors in grandeur. Ornate balconies overflowed with cascading plants and flowers, while polished brass fixtures gleamed in the sunlight. Family crests adorned each doorway, visual reminders of the power concentrated in this district. Agrian stopped before a four-story townhouse with the Godfrey crest, a silver sword against swirling storm clouds, emblazoned above the door. Unlike its neighbors, this building showed subtle signs of neglect: slightly faded paint, untrimmed ivy, and empty flower boxes. "Our residence in the Capital," Agrian announced, producing a key. "We can speak freely inside." The heavy door swung open to reveal a dust-covered entryway. Portraits of stern-faced Godfrey ancestors lined the walls, their eyes seeming to follow Zeke as he entered. Cobwebs adorned the corners of elaborate ceiling moldings, and a thin layer of dust covered every surface. Agrian scowled, running a finger along a side table and examining the gray smudge it left. "This place should have been prepared for our arrival. I''ll find out what happened to our staff." He stalked off toward what Zeke presumed was the servants'' quarters, leaving the brothers alone in the foyer. "Come on," Artax said, gesturing toward a doorway. "The sitting room should be more comfortable." The sitting room was marginally better maintained, with leather chairs that showed less dust than the rest of the house. Bookshelves lined one wall, though several volumes were conspicuously missing, leaving gaps like missing teeth in an otherwise orderly row. Artax lowered himself carefully into a chair, wincing slightly. Zeke took the seat opposite him, leaning forward with elbows on knees. "So," Artax said, breaking the silence. "Do you have any idea what you just signed up for?" "Not really," Zeke admitted, then quickly added, "But I''ll figure it out. Whatever these trials involve, I''ll find a way through them." "You''ll get killed," Artax replied bluntly. Zeke blinked, taken aback by his brother''s directness. "You might not get killed," Artax amended, "but the 34 trials are punishing under normal circumstances. With the entire Senate watching and waiting for you to fail?" He shook his head. "They''ll make it as difficult as possible." Zeke considered this. The easy path would be to despair, to regret his impulsive declaration. Instead, he felt a strange, unfamiliar determination taking root. "Then I''ll just have to be better than they expect," he said, surprised by the conviction in his own voice. "Tell me about these trials. I need to know what I''m facing." A hint of pride flickered across Artax''s face. "The 34 Trials were established by the first Lord Godfrey to test his sons'' readiness for knighthood. Initially, there were only fifteen, but they expanded over the centuries." "What kind of tests are they?" "They begin simply enough, endurance marches, basic combat assessments, aura control exercises. But they grow progressively more demanding." Artax leaned back, his expression distant as if recalling his own experiences. "By the final trials, you''re hunting monsters, breaking sieges, and facing opponents who could kill you with a moment''s inattention." Rather than discouraging him, each detail Artax shared only heightened Zeke''s curiosity. These trials sounded like the adventures he''d read about in books as a child, the same stories he''d eventually dismissed as unrealistic fantasies meant for people like his brother, not him. "And these are all at Leoncrest?" he asked. "Yes. Originally, House Godfrey administered the trials ourselves, but eventually, they were moved to Leoncrest Academy for, political reasons." "You mean because other houses complained?" Artax smiled. "Exactly. They claimed we were making the trials too easy for our own family members. In reality, they were just tired of Godfrey knights outshining their own." "So they made the trials harder?" "They certainly tried." Artax''s smile turned savage. "But all they accomplished was forging Godfrey knights who were even stronger." Something crashed in the hallway, followed by Agrian''s thunderous voice. The door swung open moments later, and their father entered, his expression dark. "The staff is gone," he announced, dropping into a chair so hard that a small cloud of dust rose around him. "Every last servant poached by rival houses, if the neighbors are to be believed. There''s a pile of unopened correspondence sitting in the kitchen. No wonder none of my messages received replies." "Typical," Artax muttered. "They''ll stoop to anything to undermine us." "What did we ever do to earn such enmity?" Agrian wondered, though the question seemed directed more at the universe than at his sons. "Succeed," Artax answered anyway. "Walk through the Hall of Heroes or open any historical account of the last five centuries. Godfrey knights led every major victory, slew every significant threat. History remembers individual heroes more readily than the lords who commanded them." Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Agrian grunted acknowledgment, then turned his attention to Zeke. His piercing gaze made Zeke straighten instinctively. "You did well today," Agrian said, the unexpected praise causing Zeke to blink in surprise. "Without your declaration, we would have left that chamber as commoners." "I just, " Zeke paused, organizing his thoughts. "I couldn''t let them win like that. Not without a fight." "Good. That''s the Godfrey spirit." Agrian leaned forward. "But what comes next will test that spirit beyond anything you''ve experienced. The 34 Trials have broken strong men, men who spent their entire lives preparing." "So I''ve heard," Zeke replied, nodding toward Artax. "He was just telling me about Leoncrest." Agrian''s eyebrows rose. "You don''t know about Leoncrest Academy?" "Not much," Zeke admitted. "I know it''s where knights train, and that Artax went there, but the details were never really, relevant to me before." A flash of regret crossed Agrian''s features, there and gone so quickly Zeke almost missed it. "That''s my failure," his father said quietly. "We should have prepared you better." The admission stunned Zeke more than any praise could have. He''d never heard his father acknowledge a mistake before. "Leoncrest is the premier academy in Athia," Agrian continued, his voice taking on a lecturing tone that felt more familiar. "There are half a dozen such institutions across the kingdom, but Leoncrest stands above them all. Every Godfrey knight for the past five centuries has trained there." "Where is it located?" Zeke asked, genuinely curious now. "A day''s ride north of the Capital," Artax answered. "The main campus centers around an ancient fortress, but the academy grounds span hundreds of square miles, encompassing forests, lakes, mountains, every terrain you might encounter in actual combat." "The perfect training ground," Zeke mused. "And the perfect proving ground," Artax added. "Most noble houses send their children there, not just for training, but to forge alliances, settle rivalries, and establish their place in the hierarchy." For the next hour, Artax and Agrian took turns explaining Leoncrest''s history, traditions, and daily routines. They described the different faculties, combat, tactics, history, magical theory, and the complex social structure among the students. Zeke tried to absorb it all, though he suspected much of it would only make sense once he experienced it firsthand. As evening approached, a sharp knock at the front door interrupted their conversation. Agrian rose and went to answer it, leaving the brothers alone once more. "There''s something important I need to show you," Artax said suddenly, rising from his chair with the aid of his cane. "Come with me." Curious, Zeke followed his brother through the dusty house and up a winding staircase. They climbed past two floors of bedrooms and studies, finally emerging onto a rooftop garden. Years of neglect had transformed what must have once been an elegant space into a wild, overgrown retreat. Flowering vines spilled from cracked planters, and a small fountain stood dry, its basin filled with leaves. Zeke stepped carefully along the stone path, enchanted despite the disrepair. The garden offered a panoramic view of the Capital, with its domes, spires, and towers catching the last golden rays of sunset. In the distance, torches and lanterns were beginning to illuminate the streets as darkness fell. "This was my favorite spot when we stayed here," Artax said, making his way to a stone bench overlooking the eastern skyline. "I''d come up here to think, to plan, sometimes just to escape the politics." Zeke joined him on the bench, gazing out at the cityscape. Other townhouses on their street were beginning to light up as noble families returned from the day''s Senate sessions. "See that?" Artax pointed to a massive domed structure in the distance, its gilded roof catching the last sunlight. "The Imperial Palace. I''ve been inside a few times." "Have you met the Emperor?" Zeke asked, unable to hide his excitement. "Once, during a formal reception." Artax nodded. "Many senators dismiss him as a figurehead, but I found him surprisingly perceptive. He spends most of his time strengthening Athia''s foreign alliances, work the Senate is too fractious to handle effectively." "He makes the best of limited authority," Zeke observed. "Exactly." Artax gave him a sidelong glance. "Sometimes the most important work happens outside the spotlight." Zeke caught his brother''s meaning and smiled. "Are you saying I''ve been secretly important all this time?" "I''m saying you''re about to become important in ways nobody expected, especially those who dismissed you." Artax''s expression grew serious. "Which brings me to why I brought you up here." The sudden shift in tone made Zeke straighten. "What is it?" "When you go to Leoncrest, you''ll be in danger, and not just from the Trials themselves." Artax lowered his voice, though they were alone on the rooftop. "What happened to me wasn''t an accident." "The dragon attack?" "The circumstances that led to it." Artax gazed out over the city, his eyes distant. "We received an urgent report about dire wolves threatening a Cilian village across the mountains. The information was detailed, credible, except it led us directly into Socrax''s territory." "You think someone arranged it?" "I know they did." Artax''s jaw tightened. "While climbing the pass, I spotted someone watching us, a cloaked figure who kept out of sight, observing from a distance." "They were leading you into the trap?" "No, they were ensuring we sprang it ourselves." Artax turned to face Zeke directly. "Dragons aren''t tools that can be controlled, but opportunities that can be exploited. Someone discovered Socrax was in the area and engineered a situation where I would encounter him." Zeke digested this information, its implications chilling. "Do you know who?" "I have suspicions but no proof." Artax shook his head. "I''ve tried reconstructing who might have had the necessary information, magical ability, and motive, but the list remains too long." "And you think they''ll target me at Leoncrest?" "I think the same forces that wanted me removed will try to ensure you fail." Artax placed a hand on Zeke''s shoulder. "Not necessarily the same individuals, but the same interests. The Trials are dangerous enough without enemies actively working against you." Rather than frightening him, the warning strengthened Zeke''s resolve. If these unknown enemies expected him to be an easy target, the pampered, frivolous second son, they were in for a surprise. "I''ll be on guard," he promised. "And I''ll prove them wrong." "Good." Artax squeezed his shoulder. "The most important advice I can give you is this: Find allies you can trust. Not everyone at Leoncrest will oppose you, some will see supporting a Godfrey as advantageous, especially if you show promise." "How do I know who to trust?" "Trust your instincts, but verify with actions," Artax advised. "Watch how people behave when they think no one''s looking. And remember, even rivals can become allies against a common enemy." They sat in companionable silence as the last light faded from the sky and stars began to appear. The Capital transformed below them, windows glowing with lamplight, streets illuminated by torch-bearing patrols. "I wish you could come with me," Zeke admitted. "At least to help me get started." Artax shook his head. "You need to arrive alone. If I accompany you, it signals to everyone that you need protection, that you''re not strong enough to stand on your own." "I understand," Zeke said, though the prospect of facing Leoncrest alone remained daunting. "However," Artax continued, "there is one thing I can give you to help." He extended his hand. "Take it." Curious, Zeke grasped his brother''s hand. Almost immediately, a warm sensation flowed up his arm and spread throughout his body. It wasn''t uncomfortable, but it felt, substantial, as though something tangible had been transferred. [You have received an Emblem!] [New Emblem: Heart of the Warrior] [Details: +100% Courage, +100% Strength, +100% Speed] "My first Emblem," Artax explained, something like nostalgia in his voice. "I earned it during my first Trial. It''s yours now." Zeke stared at his hand, not seeing any visible change but feeling somehow different, lighter yet stronger. "This is incredible," he whispered. "But should you give it up? Don''t you need it?" "My aura can no longer sustain Emblems," Artax said with a rueful smile. "Better it serves you than sits dormant within me." Impulsively, Zeke embraced his brother. After a startled moment, Artax returned the hug, his grip surprisingly strong despite his injuries. "Thank you," Zeke said, his throat tight with emotion. "I won''t waste this." "I know you won''t." Artax released him and stood. "Now, we should return downstairs. Father will wonder where we''ve gone, and you need rest. Your journey to Leoncrest begins tomorrow." As they made their way back down the stairs, Zeke found himself walking taller, his steps more confident. He couldn''t tell if it was the Emblem''s effect or simply knowing his brother believed in him enough to entrust him with something so valuable. Either way, for the first time since making his declaration in the Senate, Zeke felt ready to face what came next. The Trials awaited, and with them, the chance to prove that there was more to Zeke de''Godfrey than anyone, perhaps even himself, had ever suspected. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior [Active Quests:] [Training Montage: Train to begin 34 Trials] [Lonely Journey: Travel to Leoncrest Academy] 7. The Halls of Leoncrest [Scene Loading, ] [Location: Leoncrest Estate - Wild Forest] [Date: August 7, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] Zeke spent one more day in the Capital City, gathering supplies and information with an enthusiasm that surprised even himself. When the preparations were complete, his father hired a carriage adorned with the Godfrey crest, faded but still proud, and Zeke loaded his modest belongings inside. As he prepared to depart, Agrian approached the carriage window, his expression uncharacteristically soft. "Do us right," his father said, voice thick with an emotion Zeke had rarely heard from him. "You''re going to do well." "I''m going to maintain our honor," Zeke replied, straightening his shoulders. "We''ll make it through this." "I know we will." Agrian''s mouth twitched into what might have been a smile. "Go now. I''ll see you when term breaks." His father stepped back, and Artax limped forward, leaning on his cane. He rested a hand on the carriage door and peered inside with a mixture of pride and concern. "Make alliances," Artax advised. "Watch your back. Don''t be afraid to ask questions." "Got it," Zeke said, offering a confident grin he didn''t entirely feel. "I''ll be alright." With a crack of the driver''s whip, the carriage lurched forward, rumbling through the Capital''s north gate and onto the road beyond. The journey north took Zeke through vast agricultural estates that supplied the Capital''s endless appetite. Farmhands toiled in fields that stretched to the horizon, harvesting wheat that gleamed golden in the morning sun. Orchards heavy with summer fruit alternated with vineyards where workers sang as they pruned dense vines. Watching a group of farmers laughing together as they paused for lunch, Zeke felt a momentary pang. Their lives seemed straightforward, unburdened by crumbling family legacies or impossible trials. "No," he told himself firmly. "You have a responsibility. No use shirking it now." Besides, he admitted privately, the simple life had never really suited him. Even at his most idle, he''d sought adventure and excitement, just within the safe confines of the Godfrey estate. By early afternoon, the farmlands gave way to ancient forest, massive oaks and towering cedars forming a dense canopy that filtered the sunlight into dappled patterns on the road. Occasionally, Zeke spotted a cottage tucked among the trees or a woodsman working with ax in hand, but civilization grew sparse as they pressed northward. When they reached a swiftly flowing river cutting through the forest, the driver called down from his perch. "This is the boundary of Academy territory! From here on, you''re looking at your home for the next while!" Zeke leaned out the window, curious. The horses forded the shallow river, water splashing against their hooves, and continued along a road that became increasingly wild and rugged. Several times, Zeke could have sworn he saw flashes of movement among the trees, students practicing spells, perhaps, or woodland creatures startled by the carriage. Once, he distinctly saw a ball of blue fire arc between the trees before disappearing with a soft pop. Magic, without question. The road steepened dramatically, the horses straining against their harnesses as they pulled the carriage up a sharp incline. When they got to the top, Zeke looked out. Spread below him was the vast domain of Leoncrest Academy. Ancient forest dominated most of the landscape, but the terrain varied dramatically. To the east rose craggy red cliffs where Zeke spotted tiny figures scaling the vertical faces. To the west glimmered an enormous lake, its surface disturbed by what might have been tentacles or perhaps just especially vigorous fish. In the distance, snow-capped mountains punctuated the horizon. And at the center of it all stood Leoncrest itself. A massive wall of gleaming white stone encircled the inner grounds, punctuated by watch towers where flags snapped in the breeze. Beyond the wall, Zeke could see training fields and what appeared to be elaborate gardens before his eye was drawn to the academy proper, an enormous castle that defied conventional architecture. Towers of varying heights and designs rose like a stone forest, some impossibly tall and slender, others squat and imposing. Bridges arced between them at different levels, and stained-glass windows caught the sunlight, sending prismatic reflections across the grounds. The central keep dwarfed even the grandest buildings of the Capital, its battlements adorned with statues of knights and mages in heroic poses. As they approached, the massive iron gates swung open soundlessly, not pushed by guards, but moving of their own accord, the metal glowing faintly with arcane sigils. The carriage rolled through and across the perfectly maintained grounds. Now inside the walls, Zeke saw that what he''d taken for simple training fields were much more. Arenas dedicated to different combat styles dotted the landscape, some with ordinary practice dummies, others containing strange mechanical contraptions or animated golems that sparred with students. In one field, two young men dueled with swords wreathed in flame while an instructor watched critically. Near the wall, a group of students in blue robes practiced levitation, floating several feet above the ground while attempting to maintain precise formations. Not far from them, others in green appeared to be manipulating plants, accelerating the growth of seedlings into flowering vines within seconds. The carriage followed the circular drive that led to the main entrance, stopping before an enormous statue at the center of the courtyard. The bronze figure depicted a warrior with noble features, a sword at his side and a scroll in his outstretched hand. "Morris de''Godfrey," the driver announced proudly. "First of your line to complete the 34 Trials at Leoncrest. Bit of family history for you!" Zeke studied the statue with newfound interest. He''d heard the name in family stories but had never paid much attention. Now, facing the same trials that had tested his ancestor, the connection felt meaningful. As Zeke retrieved his trunk from the carriage, the driver tipped his hat. "Good fortune to you, young master. You''ll need it." With that encouraging farewell, the carriage departed, leaving Zeke alone before the towering entrance. The massive doors, oak reinforced with bronze bands inscribed with protective runes, swung open as he approached, responding either to his presence or perhaps to the Godfrey signet ring his father had insisted he wear. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. The entrance hall beyond exceeded even the Senate Chamber in grandeur. Vaulted ceilings soared overhead, supported by columns carved to resemble ancient trees. Stained-glass windows depicted famous battles and magical discoveries, their colored light creating patterns across the marble floor. Between the windows hung tapestries showing the crests of noble houses alongside scenes of students completing the various trials. Zeke spotted the Godfrey crest prominently displayed on several, alongside depictions of knights battling dragons, scaling mountains, and standing victorious in tournament arenas. "Zeke de''Godfrey?" He turned to find a tall woman approaching, her bearing so straight it made Zeke instinctively stand taller. Her robes of blue and white identified her as a member of House Byron, and the silver circlet around her severe bun marked her as a senior instructor. "That''s me," he replied, offering what he hoped was a respectful nod. "Instructor Stela de''Byron," she said crisply. "I''ll be showing you to your quarters." Without waiting for acknowledgment, she turned and began walking, her strides precise and measured. Zeke hurried after her, lugging his trunk. The woman didn''t offer to help, which he suspected was the first of many tests. "The fall term begins in one week," she informed him as they walked. "You''ll see many more students arriving in the coming days. Terms follow the seasons, three months each with two-week breaks between them. Students may return home during breaks or remain at the Academy." "Who stays?" Zeke asked, genuinely curious. "Those whose homes are distant," she replied. "Those dedicated to extra studies. And those who find Academy life preferable to their home situations." Zeke filed that information away, suspecting it might help identify potential allies. "Leoncrest consists of twelve towers, each with its own purpose," Instructor de''Byron continued. "Male dormitories are in Tower One, female in Tower Two. The remaining towers house classrooms, libraries, laboratories, and faculty offices." They passed through corridors where display cases held artifacts that radiated magical energy, ancient weapons, strange devices, and crystalline formations that hummed audibly as they passed. In one hall, the portraits lining the walls moved subtly, the painted eyes following visitors. "We operate under a strict curfew," the instructor continued. "In your dormitory by eight, lights out by nine. Exemptions may be granted but must be obtained in advance." "What about emergencies?" Zeke asked. Instructor de''Byron glanced at him, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Emergencies are, by definition, unpredictable. Should one occur, the Academy will make appropriate allowances, assuming the emergency is genuine." They reached an elaborate spiral staircase with a large bronze "1" embedded in the adjacent wall. As they began to climb, Zeke noticed the steps were worn in the center from centuries of use. "Punctual attendance is both expected and demanded," the instructor continued. "Tardiness will result in discipline determined by individual professors. Five unexcused absences will result in expulsion." "Seems reasonable," Zeke replied. The instructor stopped abruptly, turning to face him with an evaluating gaze. "I understand you''ve had minimal preparation for Leoncrest. The Academy is demanding even for those who have trained their entire lives. The 34 Trials have claimed many promising students." Instead of intimidating him, her words kindled a spark of determination. "I''ll give it everything I have." "You''ll need to give more than you currently possess," she replied, then resumed climbing. They ascended floor after floor, passing dormitory levels filled with activity as returning students prepared for the term. Some glanced curiously at Zeke, while others were too absorbed in conversations about summer adventures or academic challenges to notice. On the tenth floor, Instructor de''Byron led him down a circular hallway lined with doors. The tower''s design meant the hallway wrapped around the central staircase, with wedge-shaped rooms extending outward like spokes on a wheel. She stopped at room 1012, produced a key, and opened the door before handing the key to Zeke. "This will be your quarters." The room was indeed wedge-shaped, wider at the window-wall than at the door. Two beds stood against opposite walls, each with a desk nearby. A wardrobe occupied the narrow end of the room, and a small attached washroom contained basic facilities. The window offered a spectacular view of the grounds, particularly the red rock formations to the east. "You''ll be sharing with Ralph de''Arnette," the instructor informed him. "He''s a year ahead of you, but, " She paused, expression carefully neutral. "He is currently in the Capital and will return with the others." Something in her tone suggested Ralph might not be the ideal roommate, but Zeke filed that away as another challenge to overcome. "If you have questions, my office is in Tower Five," she concluded. "I serve as first-year advisor for all students." "Thank you," Zeke replied with genuine gratitude. "I appreciate the guidance." Something resembling a smile briefly crossed her face before she nodded and departed, closing the door behind her. Zeke exhaled slowly, surveying what would be his home for the foreseeable future. "Well," he muttered to himself, "guess I get first pick of beds." He tossed his trunk onto the bed nearest the door and began exploring the room more thoroughly. The desks were stocked with parchment, quills, inkwells of various colors, and sealing wax complete with a House Godfrey seal for correspondence. The window had a latch that allowed it to swing fully open, potentially providing an alternate exit if necessary, a detail Artax would have noted immediately. A knock at the door interrupted his exploration. When he opened it, Zeke found himself face to face with a young man approximately his own age, dressed in fine robes of red and gray. Though they''d never met, something about the visitor''s features struck Zeke as vaguely familiar, the sharp nose, perhaps, or the thin-lipped mouth currently curved into a contemptuous sneer. "Yes?" Zeke asked, keeping his tone neutral. "Can I help you?" "Only if you want to leave the Academy and never return," the visitor replied. Zeke raised an eyebrow, matching the visitor''s hostility with casual disinterest. "Good to see you too. Have we met?" "I don''t know why you''re here," the young man continued, pushing past Zeke into the room without invitation. "I don''t know what you think you''ll accomplish, but I don''t want you here." "Fair enough," Zeke replied with a shrug. "And you are?" "Diocletian Minziar." The name was delivered with the expectation of recognition. Zeke recalled his lessons with Sampson, mentally connecting this arrogant youth with the portly Duke who had attempted to dismantle House Godfrey in the Senate. The family resemblance was now obvious. "Ah," Zeke nodded. "Your parents are the Count and Countess Minziar from the Blue River district, correct?" Surprise briefly flickered across Diocletian''s face. "So you''re not completely ignorant." "I''m full of surprises," Zeke replied, leaning casually against his desk. "Now, is there a purpose to this visit, or did you just want to introduce yourself?" "Your presence here is a mockery," Diocletian snapped. "The 34 Trials are legendary, and you''re treating them like some game anyone can play. I''m frankly shocked the Senate approved this farce." "Yet here I am," Zeke spread his hands. "Approved and enrolled." "You won''t survive the first Trial," Diocletian predicted with satisfaction. "Maybe not even the entrance assessments." "Then you have nothing to worry about, do you?" Zeke pushed away from the desk, moving toward Diocletian with deliberate steps. "If I''m doomed to fail, why waste your time warning me?" The question seemed to catch Diocletian off-guard. He took a step back, though he quickly masked the retreat by pretending to examine the room. "Consider it a courtesy," he recovered. "A chance to leave with dignity rather than be carried out in disgrace, or worse." "I appreciate your concern," Zeke replied with exaggerated politeness. "But I have responsibilities to fulfill. Anyone who stands in my way will discover I''m not as helpless as they might expect." Diocletian laughed, the sound brittle with forced confidence. "Your wrath? How terrifying." He backed toward the door. "Perhaps it will be entertaining to watch your attempts. Just know, " His face hardened. "I''ll be watching your every move. The moment you slip, I''ll be there." With that melodramatic declaration, he slammed the door, leaving Zeke alone once more. "Well," Zeke said to the empty room, "that was informative." In truth, the confrontation had settled something in him. Diocletian''s hostility was straightforward, predictable, the kind of enemy Zeke knew how to handle. If the worst Leoncrest had to offer was entitled noble sons with grudges, he might survive after all. Of course, Zeke reminded himself as he returned to unpacking, Diocletian wasn''t the real threat. The true dangers would be the Trials themselves, and whoever had orchestrated his brother''s "accident" would undoubtedly have plans for him as well. But those were concerns for tomorrow. Today, he had an academy to explore, potential allies to identify, and a room to claim as his own. The first steps of many on the path ahead. Grinning to himself, Zeke pulled Artax''s journal from his trunk and placed it prominently on his desk. Time to see what other secrets Leoncrest Academy held. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior [Active Quests:] [Training Montage: Train to begin 34 Trials] [Explorer: Take a look around the Academy] 8: New Allies [Scene Loading¡­] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Dormitory] [Date: August 8, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] Zeke spent the rest of that night in his bedroom, mostly just getting things unpacked and ready. As he lay down and tried to sleep, he thought he heard something in the hallway, a low rumbling of stone and deep, heavy footsteps upon the carpet. He wasn''t at all sure what it was, and he had no intentions of poking his head out to find out. Some mysteries were better left unsolved, especially on your first night in a magical academy. The next morning, he rose with the sun, stretched until his joints popped, then changed into fresh robes. His stomach growled loudly, reminding him he hadn''t eaten since yesterday''s journey. There had to be a dining hall somewhere in this massive place. He slipped out into the hall, decided to follow his nose, and soon found himself descending the vast spiral staircase that dominated the central tower. When he reached the bottom, it wasn''t hard to follow the flow of students heading in the same direction. They moved like a river toward what turned out to be a large, surprisingly simple hall. No stained glass here, just tall windows letting in the morning light. Long wooden tables filled the space, with a massive buffet spread across one end. "Now we''re talking," Zeke muttered, eyeing the feast as he joined the line. Platters overflowed with fresh fruits, nuts, pastries, sausages, and bacon. The smell alone was enough to make his mouth water. He helped himself to a healthy portion of everything, balancing his overloaded plate carefully as he searched for a place to sit. Most tables were already filling up, students clustered in tight-knit groups. Every so often, someone would glance his way, whisper something to their companions, and they''d all turn to stare. Zeke pretended not to notice, choosing an empty spot near the center of the room. "Let them stare," he thought, taking a big bite of apple. It was perfectly crisp and sweet. He understood their reaction, really. If some random guy had shown up at his home, claiming he was going to accomplish what even the most elite knights would hesitate to attempt, he''d probably have been skeptical too. Still, the constant attention made the apple lose some of its flavor. "Hey. Mind if I sit here?" Zeke looked up to see a girl approaching from across the table. She wore simple brown robes, threadbare but clean. Her hands bore callouses that no noble would ever sport, and her face had the sun-kissed look of someone who spent time working outdoors. "Be my guest," Zeke said, gesturing to the empty bench. She set down a plate loaded with sausage and bacon, then settled onto the seat. "So you''re the newbie everyone''s talking about?" she asked with a small smile. "That''d be me." Zeke nodded. "Zeke de''Godfrey." "Elise Arvand." She answered. "No ''de'' for me." Zeke tilted his head. "So you''re a commoner?" "Yeah." She shrugged without a hint of embarrassment. "Arvand is the name of the province where I come from. It''s way out west, almost into Davenia. Actually, it''s been claimed by Davenia several times. We just sort of ride along with whatever country happens to conquer us most recently." Zeke laughed. "That''s one way to handle politics. You''re a warrior?" "I''m in the mage course." She plucked a piece of bacon from her plate. "Well, sort of. I only started in the Summer Term, so I don''t really have much experience yet. I''m still working to levitate things, let alone do all the really cool stuff." "You''ll get there," Zeke said with certainty. "Say, think you could show me around this place? I''m still trying to wrap my head around the sheer scale of it all." "Sure thing," Elise nodded, her eyes brightening. "As soon as we''re done with breakfast, we''ll be off." They ate quickly, though Zeke couldn''t help noticing the dirty looks shot their way. Some students didn''t even try to hide their disdain, openly scowling at him from across the hall. Strangely, rather than discouraging him, it only strengthened his resolve. No one wanted him there. No one thought he could do it. Perfect. All the more satisfying when he proved them wrong. When they finished eating, they rose and left the dining hall together. Elise pointed him down a large hallway that led deeper into the castle. "I know it feels like you must be halfway through the place by now, but you''re actually still at the very front," she explained, her footsteps echoing against the stone floor. "Your classes will all be back this way. The library is here too - biggest in all of Athia. You''re going to love it, if you''re into reading." Zeke nodded, then asked, "So if you''re a commoner, how did you end up at Leoncrest? I thought this place was mainly for nobles." "Oh, there are a few ways in for people like me," Elise said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "My parents noticed early on that I had an aptitude for magic. I''d do random things around the house that shouldn''t have been possible. When I started helping my mother tend the garden, I could make the plants grow faster just by wanting them to." She continued as they walked, "Word got out when someone from the village saw me do it, and one thing led to another. As soon as I was old enough, the governor of the territory himself vouched for me and helped me get in." "That''s amazing," Zeke murmured, genuinely impressed. "Not as cool as your story," Elise countered, her eyes lighting up. "Taking up your brother''s sword after his aura was broken fighting Socrax! That''s the stuff of legends." She suddenly turned and gestured at an elaborate doorway. "And here''s the library." They stepped through the archway, and Zeke''s jaw dropped. The room was almost as large as the entry hall, but filled with countless books. Shelves rose dozens of feet into the air throughout the middle of the room, with far taller ones lining the walls all the way to the vaulted ceiling. The smell of parchment, leather, and ink filled the air. ¡¸?????????????????? ??????????????¡¹ ¡¾The largest collection of knowledge in the kingdom¡¿ ¡¾Home to over one million tomes¡¿ ¡¾Special collections require authorization¡¿ While Zeke was still gaping in amazement, an elderly man with a beard that fell to his waist shuffled forward from between the stacks. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. "Welcome, welcome!" he called in a surprisingly strong voice. Zeke nodded and held out his hand. The old man shook it with a grip firmer than his appearance suggested, then turned to Elise with a grandfatherly smile. "Well, any friend of Elise is a friend of mine, so I imagine you will be quite welcome in this place." His eyes narrowed slightly as he examined Zeke. "I don''t recognize you, and I know everyone here, which means you must be new. Let me see. Let me look at your eyes," His own eyes widened in recognition. "Zeke de''Godfrey?" "Does everyone here know who I am?" Zeke asked, trying not to sound annoyed. "I''m afraid so, yes." The old man sighed sympathetically. "My name is Adrian Levayne. I serve as the caretaker of the library. I''ll admit, when I heard you were coming, I was pleasantly surprised. I have somewhat of a larger interest in your arrival than most." "Really?" Zeke frowned. "Indeed. I was good friends with your grandfather when he came through Leoncrest." Adrian smiled warmly, his eyes distant with memory. "I didn''t have much chance to interact with your brother. He was in a tight spot and was pushed to complete the trials as fast as possible. I don''t think he had a lot of choice." He shook his head. "Well, all of that can come later. I''m very glad that you''ve arrived." Footsteps echoed on the floor behind them, and Zeke turned to see an elderly woman approaching. She wore the elaborate robes of a professor, and her stern face was lined with age. "Elise! There you are," she called. "I''ve been looking everywhere for you. Did you forget that we had a training session this morning?" Elise sighed and rolled her eyes. "Sorry, Madam Thompson. I forgot." "Then it''s a good thing I found you! Come along, come along." The professor beckoned impatiently. Elise shrugged apologetically at Zeke. "Duty calls. I''ll see you around!" She waved as she was led away. Zeke waved back, then turned to Adrian, who was studying him intently. "Just look at you," the old librarian said, shaking his head in wonder. "You''re every inch your grandfather, I hope you know that." "I don''t," Zeke admitted. "I never knew him. Don''t know much of anything, really." "Well, then I''ll do what I can to get you caught up." Adrian patted his shoulder. "My office is always open to you. House Levayne and House Godfrey have always been allies, and right now, I fear the safety of the whole realm may hinge on your standing here. Yeah." He paused, then sighed. "No, that can come later, too." "There seems to be a lot happening that nobody wants to tell me about," Zeke observed. "My brother was the same way at first." "This sort of situation has never happened before, at least according to the history books," Adrian explained. "It has people feeling quite tense, and I can''t say I blame them. Strange circumstances breed strange consequences." Zeke frowned, trying to process this cryptic information. Suddenly, footsteps echoed from between the stacks, and two young women emerged from the rows of books. The first had brilliant red hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her robes, dyed in deep crimson and gold, were bound elegantly around her slender frame, and a thin rapier hung at her side. She carried herself with the unmistakable air of nobility - head high, shoulders back, every movement precise and deliberate. Beside her walked a taller, more muscular woman with short black hair. Unlike her companion, she wore a set of lightweight training armor rather than robes. The sword at her hip was larger, its hilt set with glittering gemstones. Her gray eyes were sharp and assessing, taking in everything around her with military precision. Both women cast appraising glances at Zeke as they passed. Neither looked particularly impressed by what they saw, though the red-haired one raised an eyebrow briefly before they continued on their way. Adrian waited until they were gone before speaking. "Victoria Reinfir and Ingrid Stormhall. They''ve been here for a few years now and are the best of friends." "You know them?" Zeke asked. "I told you, I know everyone," Adrian smiled, tapping his temple. "I watch, and I learn. Those two room together, and they''re not to be trifled with. Female students tend to have a harder time at the academy, but they bonded early and have stood against everything thrown at them." He lowered his voice slightly. "Not that I intend to gossip, but I personally think that some of their ''stands'' have been a bit over the top. All I mean to say is that you don''t want to get on their bad sides. Do that, and you won''t know what hit you." "Good to know," Zeke said, filing away this information. "What about Diocletian de''Minziar? The guy who confronted me yesterday." "Harmless," Adrian shrugged, "at least in all the important ways. He comes from an insignificant branch of a major house known for aggression. Few of his own relatives take him seriously, so he does what he can to ensure everyone else does. He''s annoying, but he won''t do you any real harm beyond perhaps a beating in the training yard now and then." "Could be worse," Zeke nodded, considering. "And my roommate? Ralph de''Arnette?" "Ah! Now there''s a heart of gold," Adrian''s face brightened. "If you scored him as a roommate, your stay will be much pleasanter. He''s a good student, if somewhat lax about studying. You''ll get along well with him." He clapped his hands together. "Now, why don''t I show you around?" For the next several hours, Adrian gave Zeke a comprehensive tour. They explored much of the library, including several hidden study alcoves that were nearly impossible to find without guidance. Outside the library, Adrian showed him the locations of all the major towers and how to reach his most important classes. By the time they finished, Zeke felt he had a much better understanding of the academy and its workings. "The main thing is to stay focused," Adrian summarized as they concluded their tour back in the library. "Keep your wits about you, and don''t hesitate to ask for help." He paused, his expression growing serious. "And don''t venture outside the Academy walls unless required for a class. The Leoncrest Estate is enormous, and students are technically allowed to explore it at their discretion, but it can be perilous. If you get lost and miss class, you''ll be expelled, and, well, there are many dangers lurking in those woods." "I''ll keep that in mind," Zeke promised. "Thank you, again, for everything." With that, he started back through the castle, taking his time to peek into open rooms and halls as he passed. He wondered what his time here would be like. Would he make friends and forge alliances? Or would he end up as a lone wolf, standing against seemingly impossible odds? There was no way to know yet - all he could do was press forward. When he arrived back at his room in the late afternoon, his stomach was growling. He''d missed lunch during the tour, but hunger was quickly forgotten when he noticed his door was slightly ajar. Curious, he pushed it open to find another student already inside. The boy spun around at the sound. "Who''s there?" "Just me," Zeke said, holding up a hand in greeting. "Ralph de''Arnette?" "That''s me!" The other boy''s frown vanished, replaced by an enthusiastic smile. "Oh! And you''d be Zeke! You have no idea how much I''ve heard about you!" Zeke stepped inside and offered his hand. Ralph shook it vigorously. He wore robes of sapphire and black - House Arnette''s colors. Taller than Zeke by a few inches and considerably more heavyset, he had the look of someone who enjoyed the finer things in life. Despite this, his handshake was firm and his eyes sharp. A mop of curly red hair framed his round face, and he flopped back onto his bed as Zeke closed the door. "Oh, this is going to be fun!" Ralph declared, stretching out comfortably. "Everyone already thinks I''m weird, so now that you''re here, they''ll really think I''ve lost my marbles. But that''ll just play perfectly into my plans." "Which are?" Zeke asked, settling onto his own bed. "Oh, you know. Preparing for life after the Academy," Ralph replied casually. He pulled a small throwing star from his pocket and tossed it up at the ceiling. To Zeke''s amazement, it stuck firmly in the wooden beams overhead. "Forging weapons and all the other cool stuff that House Arnette does." He sat up suddenly, eyes bright with recognition. "Hey, your brother had a sword from our forge, I think! Yeah, he did! I remember because I was shocked when I heard it shattered. Had to have been a nasty dragon indeed to break House Arnette steel." Zeke nodded, impressed despite himself. House Arnette''s weapons were legendary. Ralph continued without pausing for breath. "Anyway, here''s what I''m thinking. We go into this as a team, and I claim to be your squire. That''ll really throw people for a loop! Half of them think you''re nothing more than a ragdoll, and the other half suspect you''ve been secretly training from birth." He gestured dramatically, nearly falling off the bed in his enthusiasm. "If I say I''m your squire, they''ll assume you must be epic, which makes me epic by association! If we go the other way, with you as my squire? No one would blink twice." The throwing star dropped from the ceiling and landed with a thunk in the bed, barely missing Ralph''s leg. He didn''t even flinch. "And then we come to the girls," he continued, wiggling his eyebrows. "Here''s my plan for that situation." As Ralph rambled on, laying out increasingly elaborate schemes for their time at the academy, Zeke couldn''t help but smile. His new roommate clearly had energy to spare and seemed to know every corner of academy life. Whatever challenges lay ahead, having an ally like Ralph would make them easier to face - and probably a lot more entertaining too. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] - Heart of the Warrior [Active Quests:] [Training Montage: Train to begin 34 Trials] [First Day: Attend your first class] 9. First Day of Classes [Scene Loading¡­] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 7] [Date: August 15, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] One week later, the halls filled with students as the last of the newcomers arrived, and all the veterans showed back up from their holiday. The hustle and bustle of the castle was constant, no matter where Zeke wandered. Except at night, when all he could hear were those strange, stony footsteps wandering here and there. They made him nervous, though he imagined that that was the point. In any case, the first day of classes finally came around. His class schedule had been delivered to him in the days leading up to the start, and Ralph quickly grabbed the list from him. ¡°Alright! Let¡¯s see what we¡¯ve got here.¡± He murmured, scanning through it all. ¡°Aura Infusion¡­ Introduction to Politics¡­ History of Athia I¡­ Introduction to Swordsmanship.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Not a huge class list, but not a small one, either. That history class usually isn¡¯t started until the second year. They must really think you can handle it.¡± Zeke frowned, scratching the back of his neck. Maybe¡­ Or, maybe, someone was really trying to make sure that he didn¡¯t pass. In any case, the day of the Academy was laid out in a very structured manner. The pre-dawn part of the day, up until 9:00, was free for use. Dueling clubs and physical training regimes were common, though not official Academy offerings, and could be accessed on the main lawn. Some of them were invite-only, others were open. Zeke had plans of joining at least one of them, but hadn¡¯t yet had the time to figure it all out. Then, from 9:00 until noon were academic classes. Noon to 1:00 was lunch, and then 1:00 until 5:00 comprised warfare classes. Dueling, casting, that sort of thing. Dinner was open from 5:30 until 7:30, though technically all time after 5:30 was again free for student use. There were other clubs that met at that time, with a variety of focuses. Some were physical, some revolved around study or cooking, and so on. Then, of course, 8:00 was curfew, and from what Zeke could tell, no one ever dared to break it. On that first day of classes, he found himself wandering up into Tower 7, which was far more massive than his dormitory tower. The tower still had a central staircase with rooms and halls branching off at every level, but the rooms were far larger, and sometimes there were even multiple halls. The tower was truly enormous, so large that it often didn¡¯t properly feel like a tower at all. In any case, Zeke¡¯s first class, Aura Infusion, was located on the fourth floor. When he walked inside, he found a large classroom packed with just about every sort of student that you could imagine. Elise caught his eye and waved him over to her, and he slipped over and sat down. ¡°Ready for your first day?¡± She asked, excitedly. ¡°I hope so.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m surprised to see you in an intro-level class, though.¡± She frowned, and glanced over at him. ¡°This isn¡¯t an intro-level class. This is a second-year class. You mean¡­¡± Her eyes widened, and Zeke felt a flash of fear. He had been placed into a second advanced class? An advanced history class was one thing, but an advanced Aura class? A moment later, the door burst open, and the professor strode in. He wore black and silver robes, marking him as a member of House Stragga. As he reached the front of the room, he turned around and gazed sharply at everyone there. ¡°Welcome, to Aura Infusion.¡± He crossed his arms and slowly turned his gaze to Zeke. Zeke felt as though the gaze was burning a hole straight through him. ¡°As you all know, Aura Infusion is the class that comes after Aura Movement. Aura movement is the practice of moving one¡¯s Aura throughout your body, and you should only attempt mana infusion if you have mastered Aura movement. Is there anyone here who believes they may be in the wrong class?¡± His gaze was fixed dead on Zeke, and Zeke felt his palms grow sweaty. It was a test, that much was simple. If Zeke spoke up, then he would be a laughingstock, but if he didn¡¯t, he would be in a class that he couldn¡¯t hope to pass. Sure, everyone already thought that he was a laughingstock anyway¡­ But he did need allies, and he had a feeling that playing the political game would be a large part of completing the trials. ¡°Say something!¡± Elise hissed. Zeke kept his mouth clamped shut. After a moment, the professor nodded. ¡°Very well. You may call me Professor Gerald De¡¯Stragga. By the end of this class, I expect that you will all have a much better time infusing your aura into things. In order to pass, you will need to infuse your aura into a throwing star, and guide it through a maze without hitting the walls. Now, as a brief recap, who can tell me what an Aura is?¡± A hand shot up at the front of the room. Zeke couldn¡¯t tell who the student was who answered. ¡°The Aura is the source of a warrior¡¯s power.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Professor Gerald nodded, again looking dead at Zeke. ¡°Aura is what allows you to enhance your strength and speed, use Emblems, use magic, and do a great many other things. Everyone in this room, besides myself, will have an E-Rank Aura. If you wish to confirm this fact, simply place your hand on the upper right-hand corner of your desk.¡± A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Zeke glanced at that corner, where he found a small, grey square. He placed his hand upon it, and a message appeared. [Aura Reading: E-Rank] [Classification: Initiate] [Progress to D-Rank: 1%] ¡°Good.¡± The professor said after a moment. ¡°Let us begin.¡± He raised his hand, and a box floated up from the corner of the room. It burst open, and a small, crystal sphere flashed out to land on the desks of all the students. Zeke felt his settle into his hand, and he winced. It was only a few inches across, so that he could easily grasp it with his fingers. ¡°There we go.¡± Professor Gerald spoke up. ¡°Now, we¡¯ll begin by having everyone focus their aura into their hand. For now, don¡¯t pick up the sphere. This is only a simple exercise.¡± Zeke put down the sphere, then held up his hand. He did his best to channel his aura into it, but¡­ Well¡­ He had never been too great at it. He pulled and directed it as best he could, and saw the skin on his right hand beginning to glow. ¡°If you¡¯re seeing any glowing energy, that¡¯s a bad sign. It means that you don¡¯t have control yet.¡± Professor Gerald cautioned them. ¡°Try to reduce it as much as possible.¡± Zeke sighed and did his best, but he simply didn¡¯t know how to control it all that well. His hand, if anything, began to glow even more brightly. ¡°Alright. Now, pick up the sphere.¡± Professor Gerald called out. ¡°Begin to pour your Aura into it, but do so very slowly. We don¡¯t want to risk any accidents. The result should be that the sphere hovers just a few inches above your palm, like so.¡± He picked up one of the spheres himself, and it rose up above his skin, where it danced about slightly. ¡°Nothing fancy today.¡± Zeke nodded, and held up his hand. It was still glowing, and he tried to add a bit of his aura. Around him, he heard gasps of awe as the balls floated up above other peoples¡¯ hands, and he gritted his teeth. ZZZZAP! A blast of lightning seemed to explode from his palm, launching the crystal sphere high into the air. It struck the ceiling with a resounding boom, then fell back to whack another student in the back of the head. As that student spun around, Zeke found that he had just hit Diocletian, of all people, with it. ¡°Hey!¡± Diocletian roared, leaping to his feet. ¡°He just tried to kill me!¡± ¡°I very much doubt that.¡± Professor Gerald sounded amused. ¡°In all my years, I have never seen a student with so little control over their aura, at least in this class. If he had been trying to kill you, I am sure that the projectile would have gone nowhere near your head.¡± The rest of the class laughed, and Zeke sighed and sank down into his chair. Professor Gerald waved his hand, and the ball floated back into Zeke¡¯s grasp. ¡°Perhaps we should try that again. Zeke? Would you care to demonstrate to the class how that was a simple mistake? I¡¯m sure that in reality, you¡¯re far better than that.¡± Zeke let out a long breath. He glanced over at Elise, who suddenly closed her eyes. As he started to focus his aura into his palm, there came another flash of energy. But this one came from across the room. BLAM! A sphere erupted from another student¡¯s hand and went straight through one of the windows. Glass came crashing down, tinkling across the cabinets and the floor. Another student¡¯s hand exploded as well, and the sphere was sent straight into the hardwood paneling of the classroom walls. Professor Gerald¡¯s eyes narrowed, and his gaze swept around the classroom. It was clear that he suspected something, though he couldn¡¯t quite figure out what it was. After a moment, he swept back to the front of the classroom. The rogue spheres were returned to their owners, and he sighed. ¡°It would seem that the Introduction to Aura professor didn¡¯t do his job.¡± He crossed his arms tightly. ¡°If so many of you are having the same problem, it cannot be assumed that the issue lies in a single incompetent student. Let us review, briefly, the principles of aura control.¡± ¡°But professor!¡± One of the students called out. ¡°I know how to control my aura! The ball just leapt out of my hand, it was-¡± ¡°Quiet!¡± Zeke glanced over at Elise, who opened her eyes and flashed a small smile at him. He smiled back, then turned his attention to the front of the classroom. Professor Gerald began to review, in brief, the basics of aura control, and while Zeke didn¡¯t understand a lot of it, by the end of the class, he was able to focus his aura into his hand without any major problems. When the class was over, everyone rose and began to disperse. Zeke glanced down at his list, realizing that he had only about fifteen minutes to make it all the way down to Tower 11. It was a long haul, and he was going to have to run. As he slipped toward the edge of the classroom, though, Professor Gerald seemed to materialize from the shadows. ¡°Godfrey.¡± Zeke froze, and he slowly turned to look up at the professor. His blood froze, and the professor pulled him off to the side. ¡°Please, sir, I¡¯m going to be late.¡± Zeke protested. ¡°I will be fast. Here.¡± Professor Gerald pulled a small note out of his pocket. ¡°A late slip, given by professors to students when they need to stay and talk for a few moments. It doesn¡¯t excuse you for more than a few minutes, but it gives you some leeway.¡± ¡°Ahh¡­ Thank you?¡± Zeke raised an eyebrow. ¡°Do not thank me. I am required by Academy regulations to provide such concessions. I have no interest in helping you along.¡± Professor Gerald¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°If you ask me, boy, you should turn around and run home as fast as you can. The Godfrey line was doomed generations ago.¡± ¡°What does everyone have against us?¡± Zeke snapped. He realized, the moment it was out of his mouth, that he probably shouldn¡¯t have talked to a professor in such a way, but¡­ What else was he going to do? ¡°What does everyone have against you? Do you really not know?¡± Professor Gerald sneered. ¡°The Godfreys have been loose cannons for hundreds of years. The great and noble knights, they¡¯ve been allowed to walk all over the kingdom. They¡¯ve stolen countless relics from all the other houses, House Stregga no less, and stored them away in their vaults. Their victories overshadow the contributions of armies. For generations, House Godfrey has done whatever they want, whenever they want, without any sense of duty. We spent generations asking simply for restraint, and our calls went unanswered. This is the reward that your house has reaped.¡± Zeke¡¯s stomach flipped, but he nodded and slipped out of the classroom. Putting on a burst of speed, he hurried away. Well, he certainly wasn¡¯t going to be winning any popularity contests with Professor Gerald. That much he could handle, just so long as he could figure out a way to pass the class and stay in the academy. And, for that, he imagined that he was going to need a bit of help. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] - Heart of the Warrior [Active Quests:] [Training Montage: Train to begin 34 Trials] [Catchup: Find someone to teach basics of Aura control] 10. Lessons and Trials [Scene Loading¡­] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 8] [Date: August 20, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡¸?????????????????? ??????????????¡¹ [Headmistress Florence Dracthen] [Location: Tower 12, Top Floor] [Urgency: Immediate¡¿] ¡¸?????? ??????????] [Crash Course: Prepare for the 3-day march] [Time Remaining: 3 days] [Difficulty: High] [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior [Active Quests:] [Crash Course: Prepare for the 3-day march] 11. Testing [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Library] [Date: August 23, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] "Alright," Zeke frowned as he poured over the map in front of him, Adrian at his side. "So just east of the desert is the river?" "And you''re going to have to cross it, yes," Adrian murmured, stroking his beard. "That''s where your brother failed, unfortunately. One misstep, and you''ll be whisked right back to the castle. There''s a net strung up across the river to catch students who fall into the water. It actually happens more often than you''d think. Terribly embarrassing to be returned to the castle like that." "Great," Zeke sighed. "So then, the third flag will be somewhere in there?" "Yes," Adrian confirmed. "The Dark Wood, as they call it. There are a number of dangers that lurk within, and-" "Zeke de''Godfrey?" Zeke looked up as a messenger entered the room. The young boy wore the Academy''s black and silver livery and stood with formal stiffness. "That''s me," Zeke replied. "The Headmistress is ready for you," the messenger said. "The Trial begins now." Adrian nodded to the messenger with a smile. "We will be along." The messenger vanished, and Adrian placed a hand on Zeke''s shoulder. "Remember everything we''ve discussed. You''re better prepared than most who attempt this Trial." "Thanks to you," Zeke said, rolling up the map. "You''ve worked hard these past three days," Adrian replied. "Now it''s time to put that preparation to use." They walked together through the halls of the academy. Zeke mentally reviewed the extraordinary amount of information Adrian had shared over the previous three days. The Academy grounds held a truly enormous variety of terrain within its boundaries, most of it incredibly dangerous. Useful for training cadets, of course, but treacherous for the unprepared. They proceeded out the back of the castle and across the grassy slopes surrounding the academy. Eventually, they came to the large stone wall that held the wilderness at bay. Headmistress Florence stood there, her face sharp and unforgiving as ever. Several messengers and professors stood nearby, along with an assortment of students who had come to see him off. Ralph was there wearing his usual grin, and beside him stood Elise, who gave Zeke an encouraging wave. He smiled and nodded back, but kept his focus on what lay ahead. As he approached the Headmistress, she crossed her arms and regarded him with cold calculation. "Zeke de''Godfrey, next in the long and unbroken line of House Godfrey, are you prepared to take up your mantle as the next knight of your house?" "Yes," Zeke nodded firmly, straightening his shoulders. "Then let me ensure that you understand the challenge," the Headmistress''s voice was crisp and severe. "Here is your map. You will see three markings indicating the location of the three flags you must collect. Return here with all three flags within three days. You may take whatever weapons you wish into the forest, but you may not take any food, water, or camping gear. Do you have any of these forbidden items on you?" "No," Zeke answered honestly. The Headmistress looked him up and down sharply, her eyes glowing briefly with what he assumed was a detection spell. After a moment, she nodded. "Very well. Then let us begin." She turned to a small gate set in the wall. It was rusty and overgrown, and the path beyond looked rough and rarely used. "When you set foot through that gate, you will have exactly three days to return. Make the most of the time." "I will," Zeke said simply. Ralph called out, "Show them what House Godfrey is made of!" Elise added, "We''ll be waiting for you!" Zeke nodded to his friends, then drew in a deep breath. He stepped up to the gate and placed his hand upon it, paused for a moment, and then pushed it open and stepped through. Almost instantly, the air itself seemed to change. The trees of the woods, even the parts closest to the Academy (which weren''t considered the dark parts) were ancient and twisted, with gnarled branches that seemed to reach for him. They grew far apart, though, with only brush and saplings filling the space between. Zeke closed the gate, then took a few steps and pulled out the map. "Take your time," Adrian had counseled him back in the library. "More than a few cadets over the years have failed because they slipped and broke an ankle, or got lost. The march could technically be completed in a day and a half for someone experienced. Get your bearings first, then move." Zeke studied the map carefully. The three flags were positioned in three of the many areas of the Academy grounds. One was in the Dark Forest, one was in the desert (officially known as the Red Wastes), and the third was located in the Old Forest. The Old Forest flag was closest, due west. The map didn''t have many details, but it did show a small trail leading in that direction, across the river. Zeke took a deep breath, then started westward. Because of the course of the river, he would have to cross it twice: once at the beginning and once near the end. Thankfully, the path in that area was easy to follow, and he soon came to a stone bridge that spanned the raging waters. He paused for a moment, looking down into the churning river. Directly below, he could see the ancient net, green with moss and barnacles, as well as a steep path climbing the walls of the twenty-foot cliffs. "Not planning to test that net today," he muttered to himself with a small smile, then quickly crossed the bridge and continued down the path. The path from that point became fainter and more difficult to follow. Zeke slowed his pace as he entered a section called the Training Woods, which appeared to be used for sparring practice. There were actually a handful of other students there as he passed through, dancing among the trees as their instructors called out orders. "Now the oak tree! Bohregard, on defense! Alisa, try to break his guard!" Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Zeke nodded politely as he passed, but kept his eyes focused on the path. He could just see traces of it here and there among the undergrowth. "This is going to be the most important part," Adrian''s voice echoed in his memory. "It seems easy, but it''s not. If you hit the Old Forest in the wrong place, you''ll have an impossible time of it. Take the Training Woods slowly, and find the right path." Suddenly, Zeke realized he couldn''t see the path ahead, and he frowned. That was a problem. His eyes swept back and forth over the woods, and he backed up a few steps. Where had it gone? There! He caught sight of an old tree root where a divot in the wood showed where it had grown to accommodate an ancient footpath. Quickly, he jumped over it and continued, striking through the woods at a steady pace. The further he went, the thicker the trees became. He was starting to wonder if he had reached the Old Forest when he saw a small stone wall running through the woods. It was only a couple feet high and crumbling into dust. An ancient gate loomed ahead, and beyond that, the trees grew far thicker. "And that''s my goal," he murmured. "Let''s get to it." In the Old Forest, the trees grew much closer together, and the path became rougher. The ground was rockier, and the sunlight more sparse. The faint light filtering through the trees seemed somehow more distant, and he shivered as he heard something roar in the distance. Adrian hadn''t had time to discuss exactly what sorts of creatures he might find there, but Zeke gathered there were some truly formidable threats. ¡¸???????????????? ????????????¡¹ ¡¾Old Forest - Interior¡¿ ¡¾Threat Level: Moderate¡¿ ¡¾Wildlife: Active¡¿ Onward the path went. Strange things loomed out of the depths. He caught sight of old buildings and crumbling piles of stones and mortar, and wondered about their history, but knew he didn''t have time to stop and investigate. Finally, ahead of him, he caught sight of a small clearing and a flash of red. "Is that...?" he quickened his pace, and soon entered the clearing to find a red flag fluttering from a tree branch. He snatched it up quickly, then held it up for inspection. The number 1 was clearly embroidered across it. He folded it carefully and tucked it into his pocket. "One down," he murmured with satisfaction. "That wasn''t so hard." Of course, he knew there was a good chance this was intentional. Make him feel confident to lower his guard. He checked his map, then looked up at the sky. It was nearing noon, and he needed to head north and slightly east. And this time, there was no path. He took a slow breath as he realized how difficult the next portion would be. Still, there was nothing to do but forge ahead. He struck off slowly into the woods, moving north and east as best he could. With the dense trees surrounding him and the sun nearly directly overhead, it was almost impossible to maintain his direction. The few beams of sunlight that managed to pierce the canopy did little to help orient him. He was also beginning to feel both hungry and thirsty, which only complicated matters. "Alright. So now we''re really starting to get challenging," he said to himself. "Let''s see what we can do about this." Thankfully, Adrian had taught him a useful trick involving tree trunks. Moss tends to grow mostly on the northern side of trees, which, while not a perfect indicator, did help him keep moving in the right direction. He also kept his eye out for a particular type of flower that grew in the area. "There we go," he said when he spotted one. It had blue petals forming a cup-like shape. He plucked one of the flower cups and lifted it to his mouth, allowing the trapped dew to trickle down his throat. It wasn''t much, but it refreshed him, and he continued onward. Food was harder to come by, but he managed to scavenge a few berries as he went. "Remember, food isn''t your concern," Adrian had warned. "Three days without water, and you''ll be dead. Three days without food, and you''ll just have a renewed appreciation for the dining hall upon your return. Many a candidate has lost precious hours trying to bag a deer or pheasant." Using the moss technique to navigate through the woods, he moved along at a steady pace, collecting the dew-filled flowers whenever he found them. Finally, as evening approached, he caught sight of a break in the trees ahead and quickened his pace. He stepped out to find himself looking across the Red Wastes, and his jaw dropped. Even in the fading light, the Red Wastes were impressive. It was an artificial desert, constructed using the professors'' magic in the early days of the Academy. Though only a few miles across, it was completely barren, with only red rocks broken here and there by red sand. Zeke paused, then glanced up at the darkening sky. Best to camp here, he decided. He would tackle the Red Wastes when the sun rose the next day. Night in the forest brought new challenges. Adrian hadn''t had time to cover camping techniques or fire-building in detail, and although Zeke was sure he could have been quite comfortable with the proper knowledge, he had to make do. He settled into the crook of a large tree and kept his sword at the ready. The night seemed to come alive around him with rustling, chittering, and the occasional distant howl. He dozed off and on, waking at the slightest noise. A few times, he heard something large moving through the underbrush nearby. He gripped his sword tightly, ready to defend himself, but whatever it was moved on without approaching. After what felt like an eternity, the eastern sky began to lighten. Zeke rose stiffly, muscles protesting after the uncomfortable night. He stretched, then gathered as many of the blue flowers as he could find. The morning dew had filled them to capacity, and he drank deeply before facing the desert. "Time to see what I''m made of," he said, looking out across the harsh landscape ahead. With determined strides, he set off into the Red Wastes. The moment he stepped across the boundary, he felt the air grow arid and his skin turn flaky. The magic that had created this place did more than just alter the landscape¡ªit affected the entire environment. Knowing he had limited time, he pressed onward as the sun began to beat down mercilessly. The greatest challenge was mental, and Zeke focused on keeping his wits about him. Heat waves rose before him, but he was somewhat encouraged by the fact that he could see the Dark Forest on the far side. If he''d been forced to spend much longer in the desert, it would have been a different story, but he only needed to cross it. That shouldn''t be too hard... right? It might have been easy, had the terrain not been so treacherous. Though it was only a few miles, it suddenly felt like much more. Ravines appeared without warning, forcing him to climb down and then back up again. Sand pits loomed in front of him, threatening to swallow him and forcing him to take lengthy detours. He could see a black pillar of stone ahead that marked the location of the flag, but it didn''t seem to get any closer no matter how hard he pushed. "Come on!" he growled. "Don''t give up now!" His determination remained solid. When he finally reached the black pillar and found a tattered red flag labeled "2" fluttering in the wind, he snatched it up with a triumphant grin. Two down. One to go. The sun was still climbing toward noon, and he turned east once again, pressing onward with renewed energy. Ahead of him, the trees of the Dark Forest loomed, and he heard the roar of the river in the distance. His mouth was dry, and he felt his pace beginning to slow as the relentless sun sapped his strength. "Keep going," he told himself firmly. "Almost there." His foot slipped on loose stone, and he collapsed onto the red rocks. His palms were sliced on the sharp edges, and he gritted his teeth. "I am not going down here!" He forced himself back to his feet and staggered forward once more. Each step came slowly, painfully. When he encountered obstacles, he had to force himself through with sheer willpower. Still, onward he went. "I''m not getting beaten by a pile of rocks," he muttered. "Not happening." The heat made his head swim and his legs ache. He began to understand why the three-day march was such a challenge. No matter which route you chose, the desert stood in the middle, draining your strength before you could reach the next flag. But there was nothing to do but keep moving. In the distance, the steady roar of the river grew louder and louder, bringing a smile to his face. He was almost there. It was around three o''clock in the afternoon when he reached the edge of the desert. A wall of red stone boulders, some dozens of feet tall, marked the boundary, with dark trees growing between them. A few paths wound through the area, and he slipped through, feeling the air grow more humid as he passed beyond the barrier. Emerging from the rocks, he found himself standing on the edge of a cliff thirty feet above the raging river. A narrow rope bridge led across to the other side, though a single glance revealed it was extremely rickety. Down a narrow path, a series of stepping stones offered another crossing option. And on the far side... Zeke''s eyes narrowed. On the opposite bank stood Diocletian de''Minziar, staring at him defiantly. The boy slowly raised his hand, revealing he was holding the third flag, then turned and walked into the Dark Forest with a mocking flourish. ¡¸?????????????????? ????????????¡¹ ¡¾Objective: Retrieve third flag from Diocletian¡¿ ¡¾Flag location: Dark Forest¡¿ ¡¾Remaining time: 1.5 days¡¿ Zeke felt a flash of anger and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. This complicated things significantly. Now he''d have to pursue Diocletian through the Dark Forest to retrieve the final flag. "Of course it couldn''t be that simple," he muttered, eyeing his options for crossing the river. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior [Active Quests:] [Capture the Flag: Get the third flag from Diocletian] 12. Hunter and Hunted [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Estate - Dark Forest Crossing] [Date: August 24, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] Zeke''s mouth was bone dry, and he glanced down at the stepping stones below. Every part of him wanted to descend the steep path down to the raging waters below, but Adrian''s voice came back to him. "When you get out of the desert, you''re going to want a drink, and you''re going to want it badly. Don''t take the bait that they place in front of you. That''s what did in your brother. Take the rope bridge, it''s sturdier than it looks. I''m not saying that you couldn''t get across the water down below, but those rocks are slick. Push through the pain and the thirst." Zeke squared his shoulders and started across the rope bridge. It swayed and rocked, but the wooden planks held. On the other side, as he staggered off of it, he caught sight of Diocletian darting off into the woods, away from the path. He started to move after him, then paused. "One misstep," he murmured. "I''ll get you." ¡¸?????????? ????????????????¡¹ ¡¾Target: Diocletian de''Minziar¡¿ ¡¾Direction: Northeast, off-path¡¿ ¡¾Tracking Difficulty: Moderate¡¿ Diocletian had left the path near a massive oak tree, the sort that was covered in knots and knobs and scars. Zeke made his way up to the tree and looked down at the forest floor where Diocletian had run off. It sloped downward, running off toward the castle, and he noticed a few boot prints in the mud. He frowned, then suddenly caught sight of something. In the knots of the old tree, there were small pools of water. It wasn''t much, but he drank deeply, feeling refreshed. With that, he started off slowly through the woods, following the trail to the best of his ability. Thankfully, Diocletian seemed to be no woodsman and made steadily back toward the castle. Zeke''s eyes narrowed as he went along. "I bet he''s trying to get back to the castle before me," Zeke thought. "He''ll have the flag inside the walls, and then when I show up without it, I''ll be disqualified." It made a lot of sense, and it almost made Zeke push on far faster, but he held himself back. The footprints were still clear, and here and there were broken branches. No need to rush and lose the trail. And then, suddenly, he saw something that turned his blood to ice. On a tree trunk, just next to Diocletian''s footprints, were scrape marks. Claw marks. From somewhere ahead, he heard a scream that broke the forest''s eerie quiet, and Zeke quickened his pace. Now, there were tracks beside Diocletian''s prints. Large tracks, possibly from a wolf. He didn''t think it was from a bear, though he couldn''t be sure. He could practically feel eyes on the back of his head and knew there was every chance that he was being tracked as well. He kept his hand on his sword, though he knew better than to draw it before it was needed. One wrong step, and he could fall upon his own blade. Almost thirty minutes after he heard the scream, he came to a small clearing. The ground here was a mess, as claws and boots alike had torn it up. There was blood and fur on the ground, as well as¡ª Zeke''s eyes opened wide. Clinging to a tree branch was the third flag! It fluttered softly in the wind, and he snatched it up quickly. Stuffing it into his pocket, he smiled and turned toward the castle. Except that... Well... He groaned, knowing that he couldn''t just leave Diocletian alone in the woods. Whatever trouble the other boy had brought on himself, leaving him to die wasn''t the answer. Slowly, he turned in the direction of the prints and followed them off through the woods. It seemed that one of the two of them had been injured, or possibly both. There was a lot of blood splattered here and there. The ground was torn up, and the marks of a sword showed here and there on the tree trunks. Diocletian had put up a fight, at least. "Diocletian!" Zeke called out, but only forest sounds answered him. And then, suddenly, the tracks came to an end. They were on the side of a hill, amidst some rocks, and Zeke frowned and glanced around. The tracks simply came to an end; there was no rhyme or reason for it. Had Diocletian climbed a tree? Been carried off? Then, suddenly, he heard a growl from the trees. Zeke spun and drew his sword, lifting it up. A wolf, a massive one, slowly stepped forward. Its shoulder nearly reached Zeke''s chest, and it snarled, blood in its eyes. Zeke raised his sword and drew in a deep breath. "Activate Emblem: Heart of a Warrior." Strength flowed through his body, warming him from the inside like liquid fire. The wolf lunged. Its jaws flashed through the air, and Zeke lunged at it. His body seemed to move of its own accord, faster and more precise than he''d ever been before. They came crashing together in a flurry of claws and steel. The wolf collapsed, howling, while Zeke was sent staggering backward. He fell amidst the rocks, stumbling on the uneven ground. Then the earth gave way beneath him. There was a narrow crack in the ground, only a foot across, invisible unless you fell into it. He tumbled down into the darkness and hit cold stone a second later, groaning softly. Overhead, he heard the wolf''s dying cries, and he sighed and sat up. "You there?" Zeke froze at the sound of Diocletian''s voice coming through the darkness. "So you are alive?" Zeke called back, squinting to see through the gloom. "Yes," Diocletian snapped. "And don''t even begin to blame me for this, because¡ª" Zeke turned in the direction of the voice and threw a punch. He connected with something, and Diocletian cried out in pain. "Hey!" "Don''t try to pass the buck on this," Zeke growled, slowly climbing to his feet. He began to focus his aura into his hand, and just like always, it began to glow, providing a dim light in the darkness. He found himself in a small hallway of sorts, the stone walls covered in strange runes and carvings. It seemed to slope upward in one direction, and he started walking that way. Diocletian rubbed his cheek, where Zeke had hit him, and then stood up. "I should kill you, you know," Diocletian muttered. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. "No, you shouldn''t," Zeke said firmly. "And the last time I checked, I''m the one saving you, so don''t even try that." "You shouldn''t be here," Diocletian snarled. "And if I really shouldn''t be, then the Trials will weed me out," Zeke replied. "You trying to muck things up will only make a bigger mess of things." Diocletian muttered something under his breath, but Zeke didn''t hear what it was. He also didn''t care. He was furious, and the only reason he didn''t attack Diocletian then and there was because he knew it was wrong. It would have been easy, though. So easy, and no one would have ever needed to know. ¡¸???????????????????????? ?????????????? ????????????????????¡¹ ¡¾Location: Unknown Ancient Tunnel¡¿ ¡¾Threat Level: Unknown¡¿ ¡¾Exploration Status: Ongoing¡¿ They pressed onward, the path climbing steadily upward. Zeke could hear rumblings from deeper within the tunnel, far behind them, and had the feeling that they had very limited time before they would have overstayed their welcome. Here and there, tree roots grew down through the ceiling, some of which twitched in their direction as the two boys walked past. "What is this place?" Zeke asked, examining the strange carvings on the walls. They depicted creatures he''d never seen before, with too many limbs and eyes. "How should I know?" Diocletian replied. "I fell in just like you did." "These tunnels look ancient," Zeke observed. "Maybe older than the Academy itself." "Great. Historic. Can we focus on getting out?" As they moved deeper into the tunnels, the rumbling behind them grew louder. The passageway widened in places, and they passed several side corridors that seemed to lead deeper into the earth. Zeke made sure to keep to the path that sloped upward, hoping it would lead them back to the surface. "Look at these," Zeke said, pausing to examine a particularly detailed set of carvings. They showed robed figures kneeling before what appeared to be a massive tree. "I wonder what they were worshipping." "I don''t care if they were worshipping cheese," Diocletian snapped. "Keep moving." Finally, they reached a large antechamber. There were skeletons scattered all about, and a doorway that was covered in vines. Zeke knew instantly that it would be almost impossible to see from the outside. He started in that direction, only for a shadow to fall across the door from the outside. "What''s that?" Diocletian murmured, his voice suddenly quiet. "I don''t know," Zeke muttered. There was a sharp sniff, and with a snarl, a wolf slowly strode through the curtain of vines. It was the same one that they had been fighting, that much was instantly obvious. Blood matted its fur, and it gazed at them with an intense hatred. Diocletian trembled, and he shook his head. "I can''t do this," he murmured. "I''m only certified against D-ranked monsters, and that thing is a C-rank!" Zeke snorted. "Do I have to do everything around here?" He looked down at his glowing palm, then bent down and scooped up a small piece of rock. It was about the same size as one of the spheres from Aura Infusion class, and the wolf snarled at the movement. As it started to bound forward, Zeke threw the stone as hard as he could, channeling his aura into it at the same time. ZZZZZZAT! His whole arm went numb, and a blast of lighting launched the rock from his palm straight through the skull of the wolf. It was sent tumbling head over heels, coming to a stop right in front of them. Zeke prodded the corpse with his sword, then shrugged and stepped over it. "There we go," Zeke said, trying not to make it too noticeable that he couldn''t move his right arm. "Come on." Diocletian stared at him with wide eyes. "How did you do that?" "Professor Gerald''s class is good for something after all," Zeke replied with a grin. They soon slipped out and into the woods. It was just starting to get dark, but Zeke had the distinct feeling that they shouldn''t camp anywhere. He could feel the forest stirring around them. It could sense blood, and it wasn''t going to hesitate to take advantage of them. "What now?" Diocletian murmured, looking around nervously. "What do you mean?" Zeke shrugged. "We keep moving. Unless you happened to bring camping gear?" Diocletian turned white. "I didn''t... I..." Zeke spent a few moments getting his bearings. It took him a few seconds to determine the direction of north, as the lack of sunlight meant that moss grew on pretty much all sides of the trees with equal abandon. The moment that he had his bearings, though, he started off. "Try to keep up," he called over his shoulder. "And stay quiet. We don''t want to attract anything else." They struck mostly to the south, bearing slightly back to the west. Zeke could hear the dull roar of the river and did his best to keep it off to his right, making sure that they would arrive back at the castle in the right place. The trees remained just as thick as ever, but as Zeke''s strength returned to his arm, he was able to make his hand light up once again. "You''re really determined to do this, aren''t you?" Diocletian asked as they stumbled along. "Yes," Zeke set his jaw. "I am." "Why?" Diocletian pressed. "You know what people say about House Godfrey." "I don''t care what they say," Zeke replied. "My family has a proud tradition of service to the realm. Whatever mistakes we''ve made, whatever enemies we''ve earned, that doesn''t change who we are." "And who are you exactly?" Diocletian''s tone was mocking, but there was genuine curiosity underneath. "I''m the guy who''s going to complete all thirty-four Trials," Zeke said simply. "And then we''ll see what people say." Diocletian didn''t have much more to say to that. Zeke could see dark forms moving through the trees, pacing them, but none of the forms attacked. He couldn''t say why, but he was grateful for the fact. As they continued through the forest, the night deepened around them. Through the sparse breaks in the trees, Zeke found that he could see stars here and there. He knew that, if he had been trained on it, he could use the stars for navigation, but he hadn''t even begun to do such research. "So why did you take the flag?" Zeke asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. Diocletian was quiet for a long moment. "My father said House Godfrey needed to be put in its place." "And you always do what your father says?" "Wouldn''t you?" Diocletian shot back. "If your father ordered you to do something?" Zeke thought about that. "I don''t know. I guess it depends on whether it was the right thing to do." "Right and wrong don''t matter much in the games nobles play," Diocletian said bitterly. "Only winning matters." "Is that why you''re here at the Academy? To win?" "Why else would anyone be here?" "To learn. To grow stronger. To be ready when the realm needs us." Diocletian laughed. "You really believe all that, don''t you? That we''re training to be heroes?" "I believe we''re training to be knights," Zeke replied. "What that means is up to each of us." They continued in silence after that. The forest began to thin around them, and as the morning light just began to dawn, they caught sight of the immense Academy wall. A flash of hope filled Zeke''s chest. "We made it," he said with a grin. They soon entered the Training Woods proper. Diocletian bolted on ahead, likely not wanting to be seen in Zeke''s company, and Zeke let him go. He was exhausted, and had little desire to push himself beyond what he had already endured. By the time that he arrived at the little gate, his legs felt like lead weights. He pushed through the rusty metal and staggered onto the path, looked up at the castle, and drew in a deep breath. "Time to claim my reward." ¡¸?????????? ??????????????????¡¹ ¡¾Flags Collected: 3/3¡¿ ¡¾Time Taken: 2 days¡¿ ¡¾Status: Success¡¿ The doors of the Headmistress''s office were closed when he made it all the way up the stairs. He knocked on them nevertheless, and they slowly opened for him. As he stepped inside, her voice came sharply back. "If you are here on anything unimportant, you had best get out of here right now," her voice punctuated the room. She was bent over her desk, furiously writing a letter. "I am afraid that I have urgent business to attend to." "I won''t take much of your time," Zeke replied. Headmistress Florence sat up so quickly that she almost fell out of her chair. Zeke approached her desk and tossed the three flags onto a bare portion of her desk, then crossed his arms. "As requested." She looked down at the flags, then back up at him. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and he shrugged. "You completed it in two days?" She pursed her lips. "How?" "I asked for advice before I entered. I listened to that advice," Zeke answered. "Not really much more to it than that. Also, I didn''t camp last night, because I was stuck in the Dark Forest. Probably shaved off twelve hours at least." "Hmm." The Headmistress frowned, then shrugged. "Well, now that you''ve completed your trial, I suppose I should tell you that the monsters of the Dark Forest won''t attack anyone with an E-Rank Aura. The types of monsters that will attack you become more and more powerful, the more powerful your aura becomes." "Then why did a wolf try to eat my face off?" Headmistress Florence blinked in surprise. "You were attacked by a wolf?" "Yes," Zeke nodded, then frowned. "Okay, so not me, but..." Headmistress Florence''s eyes narrowed. "There was someone else out there with you? Helping you, or hindering?" "Trying to kill me," Zeke said bluntly. "I see." The Headmistress slowly rose. "Would you like to give me a name?" Zeke considered this. Diocletian had tried to sabotage him, had stolen a flag and run off with it. But in the end, they''d both faced danger together and made it back alive. That meant something, didn''t it? "Nah. I think I humiliated him enough," Zeke shrugged. "Very well," Headmistress Florence folded her hands. "Well, I certainly must congratulate you on your accomplishment. Whether or not it was well-earned, you''ve done something that few others can claim, and I can tell that you did go through all three portions of the forest." "Really?" Zeke blinked in surprise. "You have stains on your clothes from the blue flowers of the Old Forest, you have a sunburn from the wastes, and you have dirt stains from the Dark Forest," she gestured to his disheveled appearance. "Perhaps the next Trial will knock you down. For now, your classes resume tomorrow." Zeke bowed his head and started to leave. As he reached the door, she called out. "One more thing. There has, historically, been a small token given to the members of House Godfrey who complete their first trial. You clearly don''t know about it, and I will not extend this grace in the future, but... Receive your reward." ¡¸?????? ???????????? ????????????????¡¹ ¡¾Emblem: Endurance¡¿ ¡¾Effect: Increases tolerance for heat, cold, thirst, and other environmental factors by 100%¡¿ Zeke blinked in surprise. That would come in handy, he imagined. He nodded in gratitude to the Headmistress, then turned and walked away. That was one trial done. Only thirty-three more to go. As he made his way back to his room, he couldn''t help but smile. There had been those who thought he would fail at the first hurdle, but he''d proven them wrong. He still had a long way to go, but today was a victory. When he reached his dormitory, Ralph was waiting, pacing anxiously in their shared room. "You made it!" Ralph exclaimed when he saw Zeke. "And in only two days! You have to tell me everything!" "Tomorrow," Zeke said, collapsing onto his bed. "Right now, I need sleep." "But you did it, right?" Ralph pressed. "You got all three flags?" Zeke grinned and held up three fingers before his eyes drifted closed. One down. Thirty-three to go. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior Endurance [Active Quests:] [Back to Business: Return to classes] 13. Challenges [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Dormitory] [Date: August 25, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] Word of Zeke''s exploits spread quickly through the castle, and by that evening, he had no few people trying to find an excuse to bump into him in the cafeteria or the halls. Some people were interested in making an alliance, others seemed more interested in picking a fight. He caught sight of Diocletian in the distance, scowling at him. He was pretty sure that, whatever else may have happened in the woods, Diocletian hadn''t exactly received a burst of humility from the experience. If anything, Zeke''s rival now looked all the more determined to crush him underfoot. The next morning, Zeke groaned and rolled out of bed, hitting the floor with a dull thud. He climbed to his feet, and across the room, Ralph groaned and stretched. "Oh, I''m sore. Never go dancing with a girl who specializes in swordsmanship. She''ll be way lighter on her feet than you are." "I''ll keep that in mind," Zeke rolled his eyes and stood up. He checked his class schedule and sighed. "Now I have to go make up work from missing the last three days." "Two days," Ralph pointed out. "I was in the woods for two days. Then I rested yesterday," Zeke commented. "Alright, alright," Ralph shrugged. "Have it your way. You missed a big fight, though, while you were gone. Would have been the first day. Whole bunch of House Byron guys got into it with some guys from House Faure. Kinda fun to watch." "I thought those two houses were generally allied," Zeke frowned. "Depends on how you count it. They tolerate each other," Ralph shrugged. "Two of them started arguing over some girl, and then all their buddies came to join in, and pretty soon, it''d turned into a full-on brawl. I had a front-row seat, and let me just tell you, it was something else to watch. One guy took a sword clean through his hamstring." "I can''t say that I''m sad that I missed it," Zeke stretched, then started to head out for class. "You coming?" "I''m skipping breakfast," Ralph yawned. "I''d rather have a few more minutes of shut-eye. Don''t worry, I''ll make it to my first class." He flopped back onto the bed, and Zeke just shook his head. He made his way down and grabbed a bite to eat, then made his way up toward Aura Infusion. ¡¸?????????? ????????????????¡¹ ¡¾Morning: Aura Infusion¡¿ ¡¾Mid-Morning: Politics¡¿ ¡¾Late Morning: History of Athia I¡¿ ¡¾Afternoon: Swordsmanship¡¿ The class was mostly eventless, as they were primarily trying to make their inkwells levitate without spilling ink everywhere. Zeke utterly failed in this task and stained his robes in the process, but so did several other people, so he managed to skate by. As they left that class, and he headed onward to Politics, Elise caught his arm and pulled him off to the side. "Hey," she murmured. "Everyone''s saying that Diocletian snuck into the Dark Forest to try and steal the flag, so you couldn''t complete the trial?" "Yeah," Zeke sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "He might have gotten away with it, too. My guess is that he doesn''t know how to navigate forest trails and was using the river to guide himself. It runs right between the two locations, it would have been the easiest way to make sure that he didn''t get lost. I probably just stumbled onto him by dumb luck." "Well, whatever the case, I''m glad you made it out alright," she smiled. "I''d love to catch up with you a bit, if you''re up for it. Maybe in a few nights?" "Yeah, I''d like that," Zeke nodded. "There''s actually something strange I wanted to ask you about too. The Headmistress mentioned something about aura levels and monsters that''s been bothering me." Elise''s eyes lit up. "I''ve been researching the Academy grounds in the library. The old texts mention all sorts of hidden places and magical protections. We could compare notes?" "Perfect," Zeke grinned. "How about the night after tomorrow in the west reading room? It''s quieter there." "It''s a date," Elise said, then blushed slightly. "I mean, not a date-date, just, you know. Well. Yeah." "I know what you meant," Zeke laughed. "See you then." They went their separate ways. As they left, though, something continued to nag at him. If what the Headmistress had said was true regarding their aura levels, then neither himself nor Diocletian should have been attacked by the wolf. Either the magic didn''t work as perfectly as everyone thought, or someone else had been in the woods with them. Had Diocletian been working with someone? Or had there been a third party? Zeke didn''t have a clue, and it made him nervous. In any case, Zeke soon wound up in his Politics class, which was taught by a professor from House Hobbson. Zeke hated every aspect of the class, as they covered everything from flower arrangements to the way that you might orient your feet. Today''s lesson was particularly excruciating as Professor Hobbson spent thirty minutes explaining the exact proper angle one should hold a teacup at formal Senate gatherings ¨C apparently a full 37 degrees from vertical, no more and no less, with the pinky extended precisely two knuckles'' length from the handle. "Remember, students," the professor intoned gravely, "Duke Matterhorn once spilled tea on the Prime Minister''s wife by holding his cup at 42 degrees, and House Matterhorn did not receive a Senate committee appointment for the next seventeen years!" Zeke struggled to keep his eyes from rolling back into his head. Really, the class was more about etiquette at balls and things than actual Senate stuff. Objectively, Zeke had done quite well in politics by just speaking his mind and making demands, which meant that he only paid enough attention in the class to pass, as he had very little interest in using it in real life. After politics was history, which was painful. As with all his other classes, it was an upper-level class, covering the minor points of the Gorian Dynasty, when the now-extinct House Goria had managed to secure hold of the Senate Chamber, as well as the imperial throne, for almost two centuries. That particular dynasty had apparently been the reason that the Emperor had been reduced to a mere figurehead. More than that, Zeke could barely keep straight, as they memorized countless dates and important people. Some of the battles they covered sounded cool, but it was reduced to such a scientific analysis that he could hardly find reason to care. After that was lunch, and then after that was his sparring class. It was by far the longest class, running for several hours into the afternoon, and was designed to push them to their limits. It met out in the yard, on a large court that seemed to have been designed for that purpose. As Zeke walked up to it that day, all eyes turned in his direction, and the professor nodded to him. "Ahh! The prodigal returns to us, after his long, leisurely hike through the woods. Tell us, how was your first trial?" Zeke sighed and looked at the professor in some annoyance. The lad was young enough to be a student himself, a boy from House Reinfir. An older student, perhaps, but a student nonetheless. Zeke shrugged and walked out onto the court, even as a new student approached. No, not a new student. Someone he had seen before. He had seen her in the library that first day, with another girl. What had her name been? And what was she doing here? The professor seemed to have the same opinion, and he scowled at her. "Victoria! What are you doing?" "Relieving you of your post," she shrugged. "You''re being recalled to the family Estate." "What?" he snapped. "Why?" "You''ll have to ask your uncle," she shrugged. "But I. Ugh." Zeke had a hard time feeling sorry for him as he slowly slumped and trudged away. The rest of the students in the class turned to face the newcomer, and Victoria planted her feet and turned to them. Her hair was jet-black, and drawn behind her head in a ponytail. She wore a grand sword at one side, set with glittering gemstones, just like the first time that Zeke had encountered her. Now, though, she also wore a sword on her right side, one that seemed more simple and practical. "For those of you who don''t know me, my name is Victoria Reinfir. I''m currently a third-year student in the Swordsman line of study, and I''ll be taking over this class as part of my advanced curriculum. You may address me as either Professor or Instructor, either are technically correct. Now, let''s begin. What have you been taught so far this year?" Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. It didn''t take long to run through everything that they had gone through. As it turned out, their previous professor apparently hadn''t been pushing them quite far enough. Victoria sighed in frustration, then shrugged. "Alright. That''s life, sometimes, and I had a few professors like that in my first few years. We''ll just have to start back at the beginning. The main focus of this class is on honing your physical body. Your aura can do a lot of things, but there will be situations when you can''t rely upon it. Hopefully you never wind up in a situation where your Aura breaks. Even without that, though, there will still be times when you''ve exhausted it. Beyond that, having a honed body, and honed reflexes, will combine with your aura to make you even stronger. With that being said, any display of aura manipulation in this class will be met with demerits and punishments. Am I clear?" Everyone nodded. Zeke felt a small smile breaking across his face. That much, at least, would be easy! Victoria nodded, then stepped off to one side. "Alright, then! Raise your sword. Three quick strikes! No, no, not like that. Here," she grabbed one of the older students in the class and placed him in front of her. "Like this. Down. Left. Right. Just like that. Everyone, repeat!" Zeke nodded and put himself through the motions. The basic pattern wasn''t difficult to follow, and he found himself quickly falling into rhythm. His muscles remembered the motions from his childhood sword practice with Artax, though it had been years since his last formal lesson. Victoria began to walk up and down the rows of students, watching their form with critical eyes. "Again! Looking good. Again! No, not quite like that. Too sloppy, the tip of your sword is wavering too much. Again! Almost. Remember, it''s the tip of your sword that will likely do the most damage. The edge of your blade can be pretty blunt, so long as it has a pointy end. Again!" She reached Zeke, and her eyes narrowed. She slowly took a step back and nodded to him. "Strike." He slashed with the sword, doing his best. Quicker than his eye could follow, she drew her own dull sword and whacked him across the wrist. It stung, but didn''t cut, and he noticed that it was actually quite blunt. "If you had done it properly, you would have blocked that attack," her voice was curt. "Again." Zeke let out a long breath, then nodded. He was whacked twice more, but on the third try, he just managed to block it. A small smile flickered across his face, and she nodded. "Good. You''re getting better. Don''t let your guard down again." Zeke nodded, and she slowly walked back to the front of the class. "Alright! Three more times!" When that was done, and everyone was gasping slightly, she crossed her arms. "Now, everyone line up on the far end! We''re running sprints. Three steps forward, execute the strikes. Five steps! Strike! Charge at me! Strike!" Zeke''s eyes went wide as the students threw themselves into a brutal exercise that made them lunge forward, then backward, then forward again, executing the same strikes over and over and over again at every command. His legs burned, and his arms soon did, too. Off to his right, one of the students doubled over, gasping, and received a sharp whack with Victoria''s sword for it. "None of that! In battle, you''d be dead. Fight through the exhaustion. It''ll kill you too, but much slower." She continued to run them for several long minutes. Finally, she shrugged and ordered them to stop. Zeke did his best to remain standing, even as a number of the others sat down. "Looking good," she slowly strode among the lines. Suddenly, she lashed out at Zeke. He reacted on instinct and just managed to block her sword with the same strike pattern they had just learned. Her eyes widened slightly, and she gave a nod. "Not bad," with that, she moved on. Another student, sitting on the ground, received a sharp whack across the back of the neck, and another one was struck on the arm when he didn''t raise his sword fast enough. Even resting, there were standards that needed to be adhered to. The exercise continued for the next several long hours. Resting, and then running drills, and then running again, it wore them all down to the bone. When it was finally done, everyone began to stagger back to the castle, groaning about how much pain they were in. "Good work, everyone!" Victoria called out. "At least for the first day! We''ll complete our review by the end of this week, and then next week, we''ll try to get started on a more intense course! Enjoy the easiness of it while you can!" Everyone groaned, and Zeke shook his head. As he turned away, though, Victoria called out to him. "De''Godfrey! Come here for a second." Zeke nodded and slowly walked over to her. She sat down on a large stone and motioned for him to sit down on another that was only a few feet away. He did so, and she raised an eyebrow. "You''re a quick study, for someone who''s never picked up a sword before." Zeke frowned. "You think I''ve never picked up a sword before?" "Your stance is terrible. I''ve seen commoners who picked up better swordsmanship just by fighting off wolves and things," she shrugged. "Frankly, you look like you shouldn''t be here." "Trust me, I''ve heard quite a bit of that," Zeke muttered. "I''m sure," Victoria paused for a second, then nodded to him. "But as I said, you''re a quick study. I think you''ll wash out, but it impressed me. I''m going to give you a chance if you want to take it." "What sort of a chance?" Zeke was instantly interested. "I run a sparring session every morning. 5:00 sharp," she answered. "We meet on the southern lawn, third courtyard. It''s nothing intense, just something I do for some of the younger students who need a little bit of help." Zeke''s eyes narrowed. "Let me guess. A requirement for your more advanced classes?" "Something like that," she nodded and crossed her arms. "Just come. I can get you through a lot of the basics that you''ve missed." Zeke let out a long breath, and he nodded. It sounded terrible to him, particularly since he was already working overtime trying to learn Aura control, but he also knew that he needed it. He was far behind all the other students, and the Trials were only going to get worse. "I''d appreciate that. Thanks," he murmured. "I wouldn''t have offered if you didn''t show promise," she climbed to her feet. "Now get out of here." Zeke nodded, turned, and started walking back across the lawn. His whole body ached, but he felt a flash of hope. He hadn''t done terribly, not by a long shot, and it seemed like Victoria respected him at least a small amount. Not that he knew her well enough to know if her respect was something worth earning, of course, but it was nice, at least. Now, his schedule looked something like training in the morning, then classes, then Aura control. Oh! And he had a meeting with Elise in just a few days. At least he wasn''t going to be bored. The next morning came far too early, and Zeke found himself stumbling across the dew-soaked grass toward the southern lawn. The sky was just beginning to lighten at the edges, but stars still shone overhead. The air was crisp and cool, carrying the scent of pine from the distant forest. As he approached the third courtyard, he could make out several figures already gathered. Victoria stood at the center, her black hair pulled back in its usual tight ponytail. Around her were five other students, all looking just as bleary-eyed as Zeke felt. "Ah, the champion of the first Trial decides to grace us with his presence," Victoria called as he approached. "Just in time." Zeke nodded, too tired to come up with a witty response. He took his place in the line with the other students. "For those joining us for the first time," Victoria addressed the group, "this is not an official class. There are no grades, no credits, and no leniency. You''re here because you need the help, and I''ve decided you''re worth my time. Disappoint me, and you won''t be invited back." She paced before them, her steps precise and measured. "We begin with conditioning. A strong body makes for a strong warrior. Ten laps around the courtyard, then fifty pushups. Begin!" Without waiting to see if they complied, Victoria took off at a brisk jog. The other students followed immediately, and Zeke fell in line behind them. The courtyard wasn''t small, and by the fifth lap, his lungs were burning. By the eighth, his legs felt like lead weights. But he pushed through, refusing to be the first to fall behind. When they finished the laps, Victoria immediately dropped to the ground and began her pushups. The other students followed suit, and Zeke joined them, his arms trembling by the thirtieth repetition. But he finished all fifty, collapsing onto the grass when done. "Not bad, de''Godfrey," Victoria said, standing over him. "I half expected you to quit after the first lap." "Takes more than a few laps to make me quit," Zeke replied, rolling onto his back and looking up at her. A ghost of a smile crossed her face. "We''ll see. Up! We''re just getting started." The next hour was a blur of footwork drills, basic sword forms, and balance exercises. Victoria was relentless, correcting stances with sharp taps of her practice sword and demonstrating movements with fluid grace that made them look deceptively simple. "Your problem isn''t strength or speed," she told Zeke as she adjusted his grip on his sword. "It''s technique. You''re wasting energy with unnecessary movements. Every action should have purpose." She demonstrated a simple thrust, her body a perfect line from heel to sword tip. "See? Economy of motion. Try again." Zeke mimicked her stance, focusing on keeping his movements clean and direct. It felt unnatural at first, but when he executed the thrust, Victoria nodded. "Better. Still terrible, but better." By the time the session ended, the sun had fully risen, and students were beginning to cross the grounds toward the dining hall for breakfast. Zeke''s shirt was soaked with sweat, and every muscle in his body protested. "Same time tomorrow," Victoria announced. "Don''t be late." As the others dispersed, Zeke lingered, catching his breath. Victoria approached him, her expression unreadable. "Why are you really here, de''Godfrey?" she asked. "Most nobles who get into Leoncrest through family connections are content to coast through." "I''m not most nobles," Zeke replied. "And I didn''t get in through family connections." "No?" Victoria raised an eyebrow. "Then what was that speech in front of the Senate? The one where you swore to complete the 34 Trials?" Zeke looked at her sharply. "How did you know about that?" "My father sits on the Senate," Victoria said. "He was there. Said it was quite the spectacle - the second son suddenly declaring he''d complete the Trials after his brother failed." "I didn''t say Artax failed," Zeke said, his voice hardening. "No, you didn''t," Victoria conceded. "But everyone knows what happened. Socrax shattered his aura core. House Godfrey was about to lose everything until you stepped up with your grand promise." "It wasn''t a promise. It was an oath," Zeke corrected. "And I don''t care what everyone thinks they know. My brother is the bravest man I''ve ever known." Victoria studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "You really believe that, don''t you?" "I know it," Zeke said firmly. "You know, they say your brother was one of the best swordsmen to ever graduate from Leoncrest," Victoria said, her tone softening slightly. "He was," Zeke nodded. "And yet he failed against Socrax." Zeke felt his hands balling into fists but kept his voice steady. "Even the best can fail when they''re fighting to protect others. He made a choice to save his men rather than complete his mission. That''s not failure in my book." Victoria''s eyes widened slightly. "Is that what happened? The official report said¡ª" "The official report is wrong," Zeke cut her off. "Artax could have killed Socrax, but the dragon turned toward his men. He chose to break his own core to stop the attack and save them." Victoria was silent for a moment, absorbing this. "I didn''t know." "Most people don''t," Zeke said. "And my brother doesn''t care to correct them. He''d rather bear the shame than brag about his sacrifice." "That''s actually honorable," Victoria admitted. "That''s Artax," Zeke said simply. Victoria regarded him with new interest. "So the question is: what will you do when you face your own Socrax? Will you make the same choice?" "I hope I''ll have the courage to do what''s right when the time comes," Zeke said quietly. "But I''ll also make sure I''m strong enough that I don''t have to choose." Victoria held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded slightly. "A good answer. Don''t forget your footwork exercises. Practice them before you sleep tonight." With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Zeke alone in the courtyard. He watched her go, wondering if he''d revealed too much. Victoria Reinfir wasn''t someone he''d expected to understand his family''s situation. Perhaps there was more to her than her harsh exterior suggested. Whatever her reasons for helping him, Zeke was grateful for the training. He would need every advantage he could get if he was going to complete the remaining Trials. And somehow, he had a feeling that Victoria Reinfir might be just the advantage he needed. He headed toward the dining hall, his stomach growling. There was just enough time for a quick breakfast before Aura Infusion class, and after that workout, he was going to need it. Between Victoria''s morning training, Professor Gilda''s aura lessons, and his upcoming meeting with Elise, things were looking up. He might actually have a fighting chance at this after all. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior Endurance [Active Quests:] [Early Bird: Attend Victoria''s class in the morning] [Alliances: Meet with Elise] 14. After Hours [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Dining Hall] [Date: August 28, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] The next few days wore Zeke to his core. He was exhausted as he dropped down into a chair across from Elise at dinnertime, every part of his body aching. She looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled wearily back. "Sounds like you''ve been having quite the time," Elise commented. "Everyone''s talking about you." Zeke sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "Well, I suppose they say that any publicity is good publicity. Do I want to ask what they''re saying?" "Some people think that you''re already the greatest knight that the realm has ever seen, and you''re pushing yourself to heights that the rest of us could only imagine," Elise shrugged. "Then, others think that you''re nothing more than a weakling, and you''re doing all this extra work to avoid drowning here." "Hey, nothing wrong with a little bit of elbow grease," Zeke muttered. "Not my fault that I had to cram it into two months'' time instead of doing it over the course of twenty years." "Hey, I''m right there with you," Elise shrugged with a smile. "You''re doing well, from what I can see." Suddenly, her face scrunched up, and she leaned to one side. "Do you mind if we just take our food and leave?" Zeke glanced in the direction she was looking. He recognized her instructor, who had just entered and who was looking around sharply. At the same moment, he saw Diocletian slip into the room as well, along with a growing pack of cronies who seemed to be attracted to his power. "That works for me," he nodded. "Let''s go." They lost no time getting out of there, and quickly rose and made their way to the exit. There, a handful of wooden platters stood at the ready, and they quickly transferred their food from their ceramic plates to the more durable wooden ones, then made their escape. Zeke thought he heard someone call out after them, and Elise waved at him. "Hurry!" They dashed ahead, then ducked into a dark doorway. There was a moment of breathless anticipation, and footsteps echoed behind them. "Elise?" The instructor called out. After a long moment, the woman hmphed, then walked away. The two of them let out a sigh of relief, and started walking along. Neither one of them asked the other where they wanted to go, but by some common consensus, they wound up back in Zeke''s room. Inside, once the door was shut, it felt like they had a bit of privacy, and Zeke sighed and sat down at his desk while Elise sat down on Ralph''s bed. "So what''s the deal with your instructor, anyway?" Zeke asked as he started to munch on his meal of chicken and vegetables. It was quite good, seasoned with some sort of sweet (and yet spicy) flavor that he didn''t recognize. "Oh, she''s just worried about me," Elise sighed. "All the commoners have one. The assumption is that we don''t know our left foot from our right, or how to talk to anyone, or how to behave in society without grabbing pitchforks and torches and charging the nearest noble to overthrow them. Most of the instructors for the other commoners I know are actually pretty nice, and have really done a good job helping them to adjust, because it is an adjustment, but mine? She seems to think that I''m totally and utterly incompetent in every sense of the word." "I''m sorry to hear that," Zeke sighed as Elise started in on her food. After a moment, he flashed a smile. "Does that mean that you don''t want to grab pitchforks and torches and overthrow all the nobles?" She laughed and shook her head. "Actually, peasant life wasn''t that bad at all. From what I can tell, it gets stereotyped as this hard and cruel life, and I''ll admit that having servants at your beck and call is pretty nice, but living out there on the farm was rather peaceful. We had a community of people in the area who helped out with things. There was one family that had something like six milk cows, and they made all the butter and cheese for the area... And then we had a wheat field and made bread, and there was another family that specialized in vegetables... We didn''t have storehouses full of food and treasure, but we never went hungry, either." "Huh," Zeke frowned and leaned back in his chair. "Interesting." "So how was your life, growing up in a castle?" She asked with a twinkle in her eye. "Every whim and appetite able to be pleased at a moment''s notice?" Zeke had to laugh, and he shook his head. "Actually, it was pretty miserable." "Really? But you had servants and feasts and everything," Elise said, her eyes wide with surprise. "Oh, sure, there was plenty of food," Zeke nodded. "But our father was... strict doesn''t begin to cover it. Lord Agrian Godfrey believes every second should be productive. No idle hands in his household." "What about when you were really little?" Elise asked. "Surely even your father wouldn''t expect a small child to be productive every minute." Zeke smiled, remembering. "That''s where Artax came in. He''d sneak me out of my lessons to go fishing or exploring in the woods. We''d climb to the highest tower and drop things onto the guards'' helmets to see what made the loudest noise." "No wonder you''re good at survival in the forest," Elise laughed. "You''ve been training since you were little." "I wouldn''t call it training," Zeke said. "Just brothers having fun. Artax taught me more about life while playing than our tutors ever did in their lessons. Father caught us once, building a raft to sail down the river that runs through our lands. He was furious, but Artax told him it was a practical lesson in engineering and buoyancy." "Did he believe that?" "Not for a second," Zeke grinned. "But he couldn''t argue with Artax''s logic." They sat and talked for several hours, about their childhoods and their various struggles and ires with the Academy. Zeke told her about his morning training sessions with Victoria and his evening aura lessons with Professor Gilda, while Elise shared stories about her magic classes and the challenges of being one of the few commoners at Leoncrest. "I''m really glad we''re friends," Elise said suddenly. "Most nobles don''t even look twice at someone like me." "Their loss," Zeke replied sincerely. "Besides, you''re helping me more than you know. All these extra classes are great, but without someone to just talk to normally, I think I''d lose my mind." Elise smiled, and Zeke realized he''d completely lost track of time. Suddenly, they heard several shouts of laughter from outside. It was followed by the booming of closing doors, and Elise''s eyes went wide. "Oh no," she breathed, rushing up to the window. "It''s past curfew!" Zeke leapt to his feet and rushed to the door. He pressed his ear to the wood, and sure enough, a few seconds later, he heard the odd, stony footsteps that were present every night. Just what were they, anyway? He sighed, and Elise spun back to him. "What are we going to do?" She asked, worried. "If I try to sneak back, do you think they''ll accept the excuse that I just lost track of time?" "I doubt it," Zeke muttered. "I mean, you''re more than welcome to stay here, if you want. I apparently have an empty bed." He glanced at Ralph''s bed, then frowned. "Which also raises the question of where Ralph is." Elise shook her head. "I have a presentation first thing in the morning. I won''t have time to get back to my own room to get my things once the curfew lifts." She looked almost beside herself with worry, and Zeke sighed and crossed his arms. He didn''t know what to do, except to try and break the curfew? A moment later, though, something came fluttering under the door. It was a small piece of paper, folded up like a little crane, and it flapped up to land in Zeke''s hand. Without any input on his part, it unfolded, and Zeke frowned down at a bit of chicken-scratch writing. "Hey, bud! Ralph here. Got myself into a bit of a jam, and I''m afraid that I''ve gotten myself trapped in the statuary on the third floor. The one with the dragon. Any chance you could come and rescue me? Thanks heaps. Ralph." Zeke sighed as he read the note, and he passed it over to Elise. She frowned down at it as well, and nodded. "I know how to get to where he''s located." "Alright, then," Zeke grinned, suddenly feeling a surge of excitement rather than dread. This was exactly the kind of adventure he and Artax used to seek out. "I guess we''ll be sneaking out, after all." Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¡¸?????? ??????????¡¹ ¡¾Midnight Rescue: Save Ralph from the statuary¡¿ ¡¾Difficulty: Medium¡¿ ¡¾Reward: Unknown¡¿ The two of them quickly made their plans. Elise had a bit of magic that she thought could help them, and they crept to the door and slowly cracked it open. Zeke caught sight of something vanishing around the corner of the hall, something large and dark, and he shuddered. He didn''t know what it was, but he had to imagine that it would be nothing pleasant to run into. In any case, the path to the central staircase was clear, and he and Elise quickly slipped out and dashed into the stairwell. Down they went, moving quickly but quietly. At each floor, they hesitated. Zeke could hear those strange, heavy footsteps on every single level. They were slow, they were firm, and they just sounded to him as if they were made of stone. What was going on? He didn''t have the faintest idea... But he was soon to find out. When he reached the bottom of the stairs and poked his head out into the long hallway, he froze, and almost felt himself go white with fear. After a moment, though, all of it faded away as it was replaced by simple curiosity. Stalking down the hall, away from him, was a gargoyle. The thing was shorter than he was, only about five feet tall, but it was stooped over and carried a battle axe. Its wings were folded tightly against its back, but it looked to be able to spread them at a moment''s notice. Its long tail flicked this way and that, and it let out a soft growl. Zeke ducked back out of the way before it could notice him, and he gulped. "So that''s what makes those footsteps," he whispered to himself, suddenly understanding. All those stone statues on the castle rooftops - they came to life at night! No wonder the curfew was so strict. He nodded to Elise, and whispered the discovery as best he could. She nodded back, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fascination. A few seconds later, they heard the footsteps vanish into the distance, and both of them crept out. They moved down the hallway quickly and quietly, heading in the direction that Elise indicated. Zeke couldn''t see any more of the gargoyles, but he could hear them here and there, in the distance. As they neared a cross-hall, Elise held up her hand, and motioned for him to stop. "Just a second," she whispered. "This might sting." Zeke nodded and set his jaw. Even with the warning, when Elise hit him with her magic, it just about knocked him flat. A bolt of lightning seemed to flare through his whole body, crackling and writhing, and he gasped in silent pain. An instant later, though, he found that he could see clean through his hands. In fact, he could see clean through his whole body. Looking down, he found that a small mouse now stood on the floor where he was standing, and a second one where Elise was. The Elise-mouse darted forward, flashing across the hall, and Zeke followed. As he stepped out, the mouse moved along with him. It was strange, because he could still feel his feet, his arms, his legs, his head, everything, so he hadn''t actually been turned into a mouse, it just looked that way. In any case, as he passed through the hall, he found himself only feet in front of a gargoyle. Its stony eyes turned downward to look at the mouse, and it grunted softly. Idly, Zeke hoped that it wouldn''t try to eat the little critter. After a second, though, it grunted again and moved on, and Zeke continued his journey to the other side. The Elise-mouse ahead of him darted down the hall, but only made it a few steps before, with a burst of light, it transformed back into Elise. Zeke transformed back at almost the same time, and it was just as painful as before. The flash of light flickered through the halls, and he heard a grunt behind him. Quickly, he and Elise ducked into a darkened doorway, pressing themselves up against the wooden door. "Who there?" The gargoyle grunted, coming back to the hall that it had just passed. They heard an odd snuffle-sniffing noise, and it started to walk forward, thumping steadily toward them. "Grok! Ain''t nobody there," another gargoyle called from behind. "T''is. Heard something," the first gargoyle grunted. "Heard mouse." "Heard magic," the first gargoyle continued to press. "Heard naughty student. Tasty student." "Mouse. Come," the second gargoyle insisted. There was a grumble, and the first gargoyle turned around. Zeke let out a sigh of relief as he realized that they had just barely managed to get away. Well... They''d gotten away with that one. There were still a whole lot more out there. "That was close," Elise whispered. "Sorry about the illusion breaking so quickly. I''m still working on making it last longer." "Are you kidding? That was amazing," Zeke whispered back, his eyes bright with excitement despite the danger. "How did you learn to do that?" "Been practicing in secret," Elise admitted with a small smile. "Most mage students work on fireballs or lightning, but illusion magic is way more useful." "No argument here," Zeke nodded. "Think you can do it again if we need to?" "Maybe once more," Elise said. "But it takes a lot out of me." "Save it for an emergency then," Zeke decided. "Let''s try to sneak the rest of the way." They slipped out of the doorway and headed on to the statuary. It was right where Elise said it was, and the two of them stepped inside to find a number of elegantly-carved marble statues depicting warriors and scholars from the centuries. There was a huge, paneled dragon that wrapped around the whole upper wall, so lifelike that it almost seemed to leap off the stone. A dark figure rose up from behind one of the statues, and Ralph poked his head out. "Zeke! Oh, I''m so glad to see you." "What exactly are you doing here?" Zeke hissed. "Hey! I was just doing some studying, and I..." Ralph shrugged. "I fell asleep?" "You''ll have to do better than that," Elise raised an eyebrow. "I don''t have the most powerful lie-detection magic, but I''m not too shabby, and I can tell you''re hiding something." Ralph sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "I... I don''t know... I may..." He sighed once more, then shrugged. "I was talking with some girl, and I think she used sleeping powder to knock me out." "And why, pray tell, might she have done that?" Elise pressed. Ralph bit his lip, then groaned. "Because I told her that I knew a trick to stay awake when hit with sleeping magic. And I do! Did. Not my fault that it didn''t work." He huffed and crossed his arms, and Zeke shook his head. Suddenly, they heard something out in the hall, and all three bolted back into the shadows of the statues. A gargoyle slowly walked past, snarling softly. It glanced into the statuary, its beady eyes roving over the area, and then stomped onward. "That was too close," Ralph whispered when the creature had passed. "Those things give me the creeps." "So," Zeke whispered back, "who was this girl who knocked you out, and why were you bragging to her about resisting sleep magic?" "Her name''s Lydia," Ralph admitted. "She''s from House Byron. Pretty red hair, killer smile. I was trying to impress her with stories about the special skills House Arnette nobles learn." "And she was so impressed she drugged you?" Elise asked skeptically. "She said she wanted to test my resistance," Ralph said defensively. "I figured it would be a good chance to show off. Next thing I know, I wake up alone in here with the doors locked from the outside." "So she trapped you in here on purpose," Zeke frowned. "Any idea why?" "Probably a prank," Ralph shrugged. "Or maybe she wanted to get me in trouble for breaking curfew? The Byrons and Arnettes have been feuding for generations over mining rights in the eastern mountains." "Or maybe she wanted you out of your room for some reason," Elise suggested, thinking. "When did this happen?" "Right after dinner," Ralph said. "We were supposed to study together." "So anyone could have been in your room for hours," Zeke realized. "We should get back and check if anything''s missing." The three didn''t step out again until they were certain that the danger was past. With that, Elise crept up to the door, and glanced down the hallway toward the female dorms. "Alright," she murmured. "I''ve got to get going. Will you two be able to get back to your own room without me?" "We''ll manage," Zeke nodded. "Thanks for the help, and good luck with your presentation tomorrow." "And thanks for the mouse trick," Ralph added with a grin. "That was incredible." Elise nodded and smiled, then darted away. She vanished down the hall, and was soon lost amidst the shadows. Ralph looked after her, then glanced back at Zeke. "You ready?" "I guess," Zeke muttered. "Really, though. So where''d you learn a trick to stay awake when hit with sleeping magic?" "It was in a cool spy book I read when I was a kid!" Ralph shrugged as they slipped out into the hall. "And why did you go bragging about it?" Zeke raised an eyebrow. "I don''t know. When you''re talking to a girl, you show off your stuff. I figured that would be a cool thing to know," Ralph answered. "I mean... If you''re a noble, people are always trying to assassinate you. It''s handy to know to help prevent that sort of thing." "If it works, maybe," Zeke rolled his eyes. "Now come on, and stay close to me." Zeke was starting to realize what the limits and patterns of the gargoyles were, and, slowly and carefully, they made their way back through the halls toward their dorm room. They had a few close calls - once, they had to duck into an empty classroom when a gargoyle turned unexpectedly down their corridor, and another time they froze in place for nearly five minutes while two of the stone creatures had a guttural conversation in the hallway ahead. But each challenge only made Zeke more determined. There was something thrilling about outsmarting the vigilant guardians, like the games he used to play with Artax, sneaking past the castle guards at home. By the time they reached the stairs to their tower, he had mapped most of the patrol routes in his head. When they finally arrived at their room, Zeke let out a gasp and flopped onto his bed, closing the door firmly behind him. "And we''re back," he grinned, feeling oddly exhilarated rather than exhausted. "Indeed we are!" Ralph flopped down, utterly unconcerned. "And hey, it''s only 9:30. Plenty of time to sleep and still wake up with enough time to do everything I need to do." "Check your things," Zeke reminded him, sitting up. "See if anything''s missing." Ralph rummaged through his possessions, checking under his bed and in his small chest of belongings. After a few minutes, he shook his head. "Everything seems to be here. My coin purse, my spare dagger, even my lucky gambling dice." "What about any papers or books?" Zeke suggested. Ralph''s eyes widened. "My notes! I had some notes from my uncle about special Arnette forging techniques." He dug frantically through his desk drawer, then sighed with relief. "Still here, thank goodness. Uncle would have had my head if those got out." "Seems like your Lydia didn''t find what she was looking for," Zeke mused. "Or maybe she was just playing a prank like you said." "Either way, I''m not talking to her again," Ralph declared, then paused. "Well, probably not. Unless she apologizes. She did have really pretty eyes..." Zeke shook his head and laughed. "You''re hopeless." "Speaking of hopeless," Ralph said, his tone changing to something more serious, "how are your extra classes going? Victoria''s supposed to be brutal." "She is," Zeke admitted. "But I''m learning a lot. And Professor Gilda''s aura lessons are helping too. I almost managed to levitate my inkwell today without spilling it." "Almost being the key word," Ralph teased. "Hey, it''s progress," Zeke grinned. "Professor Gerald actually nodded at me today instead of scowling. That''s practically a standing ovation from him." They talked for a while longer, sharing stories from their classes and speculating about why the gargoyles patrolled at night. Zeke found himself warming to Ralph more and more - beneath his carefree exterior, his roommate was sharper than he let on, and fiercely loyal to his friends. As they were getting ready for bed, Zeke remembered something. "Oh, I meant to ask - have you heard anything about a second Trial coming up? The Headmistress hasn''t mentioned anything, but it''s been almost a week since I completed the first one." "Nothing specific," Ralph replied, climbing under his covers. "But there''s a rumor that the second Trial is always held during the first full moon of the term. And that''s coming up in a few days." "Great," Zeke muttered. "Just when I''m starting to get into a routine." "That''s the point, isn''t it?" Ralph yawned. "They don''t want you comfortable. Comfortable knights don''t make history." Zeke thought about that as he stared up at the ceiling. He wasn''t here to be comfortable, after all. He was here to save his family''s honor and complete the 34 Trials. Tonight''s adventure with the gargoyles had been a timely reminder that Leoncrest was full of dangers and secrets - and he''d need to master them all. Still, though... If he ever did need to sneak out again, it was handy to know that it could be done. And with friends like Elise and even Ralph, maybe the impossible would be a little more possible after all. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior Endurance [Active Quests:] [Roommate Problems: Figure out what makes Ralph tick] [Coming Soon: Prepare for the Second Trial] 15. Pushing Forward [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Outer Courtyards] [Date: September 15, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] Thunder cracked overhead, and rain came pouring down as Zeke planted his feet and slashed his sword through the air. A few other students, only five or six, had come to Victoria''s early-morning class, but those that had arrived were determined, and weren''t going to be going anywhere. Victoria stood at the front of the courtyard, water running in rivers off her armor, her sword raised in defiance of the storm. "Strike! Strike now!" Zeke followed her instructions, launching himself through a series of drills that she had been encouraging them to follow. His limbs, becoming far more honed than they had been a month earlier, moved through the motions with ease. Perhaps not grace, or as much speed as he would have liked, but ease. He spun through the air, hacking and slashing as the rain came thundering down. He had now been at the Academy for over a month, and while he still felt out of place, he was starting to settle in. ¡¸?????????? ????????????????¡¹ ¡¾Basic Swordsmanship: Improving¡¿ ¡¾Physical Conditioning: Notable improvement¡¿ ¡¾Time at Academy: 1 month¡¿ The one bright side to the rain was that he wasn''t getting nearly as overheated as he sometimes did, and he certainly wasn''t going to be sweaty when he went to his classes. That said, he was going to be soaking wet, but he could deal with that much. After a few long moments, Victoria called out. "There we go! Let''s call that for a day, you''ve all done well!" Everyone cheered, and the others began to pack it up to head back into the Academy. Zeke frowned and glanced up at the great towers, where a clock could be seen on one of them. He knew it now to be Tower 8, which was the same Tower that taught smithing and other such mechanical things. There was still an hour and a half until his first class, and he approached Victoria. "You''re wanting more?" She raised an eyebrow. "This academy isn''t going to cut me any breaks," Zeke shrugged. "I can''t really afford to start cutting myself any." Victoria''s lips curled into an approving smile. "Well, I''m more than willing to keep going. Let''s try a few more advanced items. Plant your feet." She struck a moment later, and Zeke braced himself against the onslaught. She was incredibly fast, and seemed willing to give it a bit more energy now that it was just the two of them. Zeke was driven back under the onslaught, and as he came to a halt, gasping and panting, he looked up at her and nodded. "Not too bad," she frowned in approval. "Let''s see if you can do it again." Once more, they came crashing together. Zeke was able to hold his own for just a bit longer, and he laughed. "Wow! And here I thought I was doing alright." "You really are," she shrugged. "There''s just a lot to combat. You won''t even be close to ready for a real duel for another few years, and believe it or not, I''m a lot slower than the really good ones." "I believe it," Zeke answered. He paused, then chuckled. "I don''t want to believe it, but I do." She laughed at that, and they came crashing back together once more. Steel rang upon steel, the blows threatening to drown out the crack of thunder above. Zeke felt his blood pumping, his senses heightening with each exchange. There was something exhilarating about training in the storm - it made him feel like one of the legendary knights from the stories Artax used to tell him. As they sparred, Victoria occasionally called out corrections or praise: "Better footwork! Keep your weight centered!" "Good parry, but follow through faster next time." "That''s it! Use the momentum of my attack against me." Finally, the bell rang to announce that only one hour was left before classes, and Victoria sighed. "Well, I really should be going. I have some things I need to take care of before I head to my first class. Good work, though." She walked over to the side of the court, where she had set a small bag full of items. It was soaking wet now, and she grimaced as she picked it up and slung it over her shoulder. "You know, you should enter a tournament when the Fall Festival comes around. I bet you''d do better than you think." "Fall Festival?" Zeke frowned, and walked alongside Victoria as they slogged back toward the Academy. "What''s that?" "You haven''t heard of the Fall Festival?" Victoria glanced sharply down at him, then shrugged. "I guess you haven''t. Good to know they''re really keeping you up to date on things. As you know, the years are broken up into three-month chunks, with short breaks between each chunk. The biggest breaks are between the summer and fall season, and then between the fall and winter season. Winter to spring, and spring to summer? You''ve just got to suffer through with a one-week hiatus. Anyway, point is, there''s a festival that''s held at the end of each season to celebrate what''s happened so far that season. The fall one is really cool, there are tournaments and all sorts of neat things. I bet if you entered, you''d do better than you might think." "Maybe," Zeke frowned. "It''s also a chance to be humiliated in front of the whole school." "Do you really care about being humiliated?" Victoria asked as they stepped through the front doors of the Academy. There, the heat from several nearby hearths warmed them, while several servants came forward with towels to help them dry down. "Not really, not on a personal level," Zeke answered. "That said, House Godfrey is pretty weak right now. The Senate is looking for any chance at all to shut us down. I''m only here on a technicality, and if I show any weakness..." "They''ll ruin you," Victoria murmured. They strode through the grand entry hall, and she flashed a small smile. "You know, back when I went through my first tournament, my rival used a bit of magic to make the combat floor extra slick. I didn''t realize it, and she knocked me flat on my back with hardly a bit of effort. It did knock me back in the rankings for awhile. A lot of the professors considered me a failure, and gave her extra treatment because of it. In the end, though, it made my rise to power all the more sweet. She''s been sent back home, and I''m still here." Zeke nodded. "Yeah... I''d just be worried that if something like that happened to me, someone would report it as me being incompetent, and the Senate would vote to remove me from the Trials before I was killed or something, and then-" "Yeah, I hear you," Victoria shrugged. "Well, maybe later. The Winter Festival has a lot of competitions that don''t involve combat. Maybe you can join up with one of them." She slapped him on the shoulder and walked off, and Zeke sighed. He desperately wanted to join the matches in the Fall Festival, but... He did know that it was a fool''s errand. Diocletian had already showed himself more than willing to mess with the results of Zeke''s tests and trials, and such a public event would have been the perfect place to humiliate him. As Victoria disappeared around a corner, Zeke considered her words. Maybe he was being too cautious. After all, wasn''t the whole point of being here to prove himself? Hiding from challenges wouldn''t accomplish that. "The festival''s still a few weeks away," he thought. "I''ve got time to decide." In any case, Zeke dried off as best he could, and headed along toward his Aura Infusion class. Now that he had been at the school for awhile, the class... It hadn''t exactly become easier, but it wasn''t quite as impossible as it had been at first. He walked in, though the door of the classroom, and sat down mere instants before the bell rang. Professor Gerald De''Stragga looked up, and his eyes narrowed, no doubt annoyed that Zeke had narrowly avoided a demerit. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. "Alright, then," he sighed and slowly climbed to his feet. "Thank you all for coming today. I know you''ve all been looking forward to the day that we start working with weapons for the first time." An excited murmur ran around the class. Zeke, though, winced. He didn''t at all like the idea of trying to infuse his Aura into a weapon. Even the small crystal balls were dangerous enough, to be given a functional blade... Well... That actually stood a chance of killing someone. "That is why I regret to inform you that we will not be taking up such weapons today," Professor Gerald chuckled slightly as a ripple of disappointment ran around the room. "We will, however, begin progressing in that direction. If you''ll look inside your desk, you''ll find a small buckler. Please, all of you, pull it out." Zeke frowned, then reached into his desk, where he indeed found a small shield. It was hardly wider than his hand, with a strap across the back that he could grab hold of. The front side of the shield depicted a lion, and he looked down at it for a moment before turning his attention back to Professor Gerald. "Most of you probably already know the use of a buckler, but allow me a moment to elaborate for the students who may not," he cast a look particularly at Zeke, then sighed and folded his hands behind his back. "A buckler serves as a small shield with two primary uses. First, it can be strapped to the sword hand, providing an extra layer of protection, as well as an extra weapon should the sword be dropped. It can also be held in the off-hand, where it can be used for blocking, grappling, and punching. In an intense fight, getting struck with a buckler can often be the deciding factor." Zeke frowned and nodded as Professor Gerald continued. "In the matter of this class, a buckler infused with Aura can be a powerful tool, indeed. It should be noted, of course, that it is too small to stop your average sword or arrow. You should never go into a fight intending to use it for such a thing. As such, you should never go into a fight with your aura infused into the item. Doing so will only over-extend your energy and cause you to drain and fade more quickly than you otherwise might. A larger shield can easily be charged with Aura prior to a battle, on the flip side. The proper use of a buckler is for quick bursts. You sense a weakness in the enemy''s defense, so you throw a punch, charging your buckler with aura in that moment. You get in close, and begin grappling with your enemy instead of attacking him from a distance. Or, perhaps, you arrive at a door, and need to put a bit of extra force behind a punch to break through." Zeke nodded slowly as he tried to absorb it all. He could already imagine the potential applications - a well-timed aura burst into a buckler could turn a defensive move into a devastating counter-attack. The possibilities were exciting, if he could master the technique. "With that, take hold of the leather strap. It has strips of metal running through it, metal that has been enchanted to allow for easier aura infusion. Practice infusing your aura into the buckler, then drawing it back into your body," the professor slowly started walking up and down the length of the classroom. "That''s it. No, no throwing punches. We''ll be working on this for the next two weeks, there will be plenty of time to work on the practical application. Infuse, then withdraw. Nothing more." Zeke glanced over at Elise. Being a mage, she had progressed in the class far faster than he had, and he watched with some frustration as she sent her aura easily into the shield. After a moment, and noticing that Professor Gerald''s back was turned, she turned the shield toward Zeke. The eyes of the lion briefly glowed, as she proved that she was able to not only infuse the thing, but that she was able to direct her aura exactly where she wanted it to go. Zeke scowled, then shrugged and went back to work. He slowly sent his aura into the item, and watched as it started to glow. That was a... Bad sign? Right? He gritted his teeth and focused on some of the techniques he had learned from Ralph''s aunt. The glowing went down after a few seconds, though he felt the buckler beginning to buck against his hand as it tried to explode away. He quickly pulled his aura back out, waited a few seconds, and then let it flow back in. "De''Godfrey!" Zeke looked up as Professor Gerald stepped up next to him. His eyes were hard, and he nodded down at the shield. "Let''s see what you have." Zeke nodded and quickly performed the same action. When he finished, the professor nodded. "Sloppy, but better. You''ve shown remarkable improvement," with that, he turned to the rest of the class. "I hope you''re all taking notice! Not of De''Godfrey''s technique, mind you, but of his perseverance. It''s laudable." Zeke felt a flash of hope, and Professor Gerald walked back to the front of the room. By the time the class was over, Zeke''s palms burned, but he was doing a lot better. Everyone put their bucklers back into their desks, and Zeke rose along with them. Instead of heading out into the hall, though, he slipped up toward the professor''s desk. Professor Gerald was already hard at work writing something. As Zeke approached, he looked up and sighed. "Please, do not misread my compliment as approval." "I didn''t. I don''t," Zeke shook his head. "I understand that you don''t want me here. Fair enough. I was just going to ask if you''d be willing to tutor me in the evenings. I''ve been working with Professor Gilda De''Arnette, but I''ve more or less reached the end of what she can teach me." "Reaching the end of what that old bat has to teach would take most students a single afternoon," Professor Gerald muttered. "All the more reason I''d like to take some lessons from you," Zeke shrugged. "I don''t want to be the back of the class, and I think I''ve proven that I''m willing to put in the work." "That you have," Professor Gerald sighed and folded his hands. "Are you aware, De''Godfrey, that I''ve received orders directly from the Senate to impede your progress in whatever manner that I can?" "Doesn''t shock me," Zeke shrugged. "Not many people in the Senate like what I''m doing here." "No, indeed," Professor Gerald folded his hands in frustration. He seemed conflicted, and Zeke shrugged. "Come on. You became a professor here to teach us, right? You teach students from rival houses all the time. The whole point of Leoncrest is that it''s the best of the best, and if every professor played favorites and tried to hinder all the rival houses, there''s no way that it would have the reputation that it does." "Yes, I''m aware of the fact," the professor looked up. "We are expressly forbidden from providing less education to those from rival houses, and I''d like to think that I do a good job with it. There is a significant difference between not giving you false grades, and giving you private tutoring lessons." "So just consider it a challenge," Zeke pressed. "Come on. A hopeless case like me? You''d be a legend if you managed to get me turned around. Plus, I''d be a lot less likely to slip up and smash a window or something." Professor Gerald raised an eyebrow. "Is that a threat?" "No," Zeke laughed. "Just an honest admission that I''m still no good at this stuff!" The professor''s stern expression cracked slightly, and Zeke sensed an opportunity. He leaned forward, his eyes bright with determination. "Look, Professor, I know we started off on the wrong foot. I know House Stragga and House Godfrey have their differences. But isn''t this exactly what Leoncrest is about? Rising above those differences to become something greater?" For a moment, Zeke thought he saw something like respect in the professor''s eyes. Professor Gerald sighed and put his head into his hands. After a few moments, he nodded. "I''m not going to go easy on you, and I''m only going to help you catch up with the rest of the class. Nothing more." "Got it," Zeke confirmed. "That''s all I''m asking." "Be here tonight. 5:00." "Thank you," Zeke bowed. Professor Gerald snorted and waved his hand dismissively, and Zeke turned to scamper away. It wasn''t an ideal answer, but it was more than he had hoped for. Now, with luck, he''d really be able to get back to where he needed to be. As Zeke left the classroom, he nearly collided with Diocletian, who was lurking just outside the door. "Well, well," Diocletian smirked. "What was that all about? Begging for special treatment?" "Just arranging some extra lessons," Zeke replied evenly, refusing to rise to the bait. "You could probably use some yourself." Diocletian''s face darkened. "Watch it, Godfrey. I haven''t forgotten what happened in the forest." "Neither have I," Zeke said, meeting his gaze steadily. "How''s your cheek feeling, by the way?" Diocletian unconsciously touched the spot where Zeke had punched him during their underground encounter. His jaw tightened. "You think you''re clever, don''t you? Getting all these extra lessons, trying to make up for your pathetic lack of talent with sheer stubbornness." "It seems to be working so far," Zeke shrugged. "One Trial down, thirty-three to go." "The first Trial was nothing," Diocletian sneered. "Just a walk in the woods. Wait until the real Trials begin - the ones that have ended careers and even lives. No amount of extra training will prepare you for those." "We''ll see," Zeke said, starting to walk away. "Good luck in the Fall Festival, by the way. I hear they have some great events for beginners." He could practically feel Diocletian''s glare burning into his back as he walked away. The encounter left him thinking, though. The Fall Festival was coming up soon, and after that would likely be his second Trial. He needed to be ready for both. The rest of the day passed in a blur of classes and training. By the time the afternoon was over, Zeke was exhausted but satisfied with his progress. Between Victoria''s morning training, his regular classes, and now Professor Gerald''s upcoming tutoring, he was pushing himself harder than ever before. But he was also improving faster than he''d thought possible. As he headed to dinner, he ran into Ralph, who was sporting a black eye. "What happened to you?" Zeke asked, concerned. "Just a friendly disagreement with a student from House Byron," Ralph grinned, apparently unbothered by his injury. "Turns out they don''t appreciate being accused of setting people up with sleeping potions. But I got in a good shot too - you should see his nose!" "You confronted that girl''s family about what happened?" Zeke asked incredulously. "Well, not directly," Ralph admitted. "I may have loudly speculated about House Byron''s dishonorable tactics within earshot of her brother. One thing led to another..." "You''re insane," Zeke shook his head, but found himself smiling. Ralph''s carefree approach to life was both baffling and refreshing. "Life''s too short to hold grudges," Ralph shrugged. "We had our fight, now it''s settled. He even invited me to join their table at the Fall Festival feast. Said anyone with a right hook like mine can''t be all bad." "Speaking of the Fall Festival," Zeke said, "I''m thinking about entering one of the tournaments." "Really?" Ralph perked up. "Which one? The sword competition? The obstacle course? The magical duels?" "I haven''t decided yet," Zeke admitted. "But after talking with Victoria this morning, I''m starting to think I should put myself out there. Show everyone what I can do." "Or show everyone what you can''t do," Ralph pointed out helpfully. "Either way, it''ll be entertaining!" "Thanks for the vote of confidence," Zeke said dryly. "Anytime," Ralph grinned. "You know what? I think you should do it. The worst that happens is you lose, but so what? No one expects you to win anyway. But if you do well..." "Everyone will be surprised," Zeke finished. "Exactly! Plus, I can place some bets on you as the underdog. The odds will be fantastic!" Zeke rolled his eyes. "I''m glad my potential humiliation could be profitable for you." "That''s what friends are for," Ralph said cheerfully. "Come on, let''s get dinner. I''m starving after getting punched in the face." As they walked to the dining hall together, Zeke found himself feeling strangely optimistic. Between his progressing skills, Professor Gerald''s unexpected help, and the possibility of proving himself at the Fall Festival, things were looking up. Now, with luck, he''d really be able to get back to where he needed to be. Tonight would be the first step - mastering the aura techniques that still gave him so much trouble. After that, who knew? Maybe by the time the Second Trial came around, he''d actually be ready for it. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [Overtime: Attend private tutoring with Professor Gerald] [Upcoming: Decide whether to enter the Fall Festival tournament] 16. Growth Regardless [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 7] [Date: September 30, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] "Slowly, now," Professor Gerald''s voice called out. "Ease into it." Zeke let out a long breath as he allowed his aura to flow into the small crystal ball. It flickered for a moment, then died down, and slowly, the ball started to float up above his palm. It hovered there, about an inch in the air, then danced around for a few seconds before popping upward. Still, though, it only leapt up about a foot, and Zeke was easily able to catch it. "Very well done," Professor Gerald held out his hand and took the orb from Zeke. Zeke rose to his feet as the professor walked back toward the front of the classroom. "That''ll be all for tonight. You''ve made truly remarkable progress." He paused as he dropped the sphere into a box of matching crystal spheres, then turned back around. "And you truly had no training through your childhood?" "None whatsoever," Zeke shook his head. "I wish I had." "Well, I am thankful that you did not. I shudder to think how strong you might be at this point, had you been able to truly develop your powers from an early age," the professor rubbed his forehead. "Do you mind if we run a quick test? Come here, and put your hand on this Aura sensor?" Zeke nodded and strode forward to the professor''s desk. He placed his hand upon a small chunk of stone, and with a flicker, a display appeared above him. ¡¸???????? ??????????????¡¹ ¡¾Rank: E-Rank¡¿ ¡¾Classification: Initiate¡¿ ¡¾Progress to D-Rank: 30%¡¿ "Thirty percent!" Professor Gerald whistled sharply. "And you were only at 1% when the year started. Of course, Academy life is more intense, but most people work for the many long years of their childhood to raise it to 10 or 15% by the time they start their classes. The initiates who have done no honing at all, like yourself, usually struggle to reach 30 by the end of the year. Truly amazing." Zeke couldn''t help but grin at the praise. After weeks of extra training, he was finally seeing results. Maybe this whole quest wasn''t as impossible as it had seemed. "Not a word about these classes to anyone, you understand?" the professor added, his expression suddenly serious. "Trust me," Zeke nodded. "If word got out, I''d be in just as much hot water as you. House Stragga and House Godfrey aren''t exactly friends, we''d probably be accused of... I don''t know." "Yeah," Professor Gerald sighed and sat down behind his desk. "I''ll see you tomorrow." "Professor?" Zeke paused before he walked away. "Can I ask you something? It''s about the first Trial that I completed." "Hmm?" Professor Gerald looked up. "What about it?" "I spoke with the Headmistress after the fact, and she mentioned offhandedly that it would be impossible for me to have been attacked in the Dark Forest." Professor Gerald nodded. "Correct, unless you had been with someone of a higher power. Even if you had somehow stumbled across one of the more powerful beasts, they would have ignored you. Why?" "Because I was attacked," Zeke shrugged. He explained the situation, leaving out the part about Diocletian. When he finished, the professor frowned and crossed his arms. "And you''re sure there was no one there with you?" Zeke hesitated. He didn''t want to get Diocletian in trouble - not because he cared about the other boy, but because doing so would only escalate their rivalry further. Still, the professor deserved the truth. "No one who could have triggered the larger monsters," Zeke shook his head. "There was another student who snuck into the woods, but no one strong enough to do what you''re talking about." "Interesting," Professor Gerald bit his lip. "Let me think upon that." Zeke nodded and slipped out into the hall, knowing the conversation was over. As he did so, he caught sight of someone standing just a few doors down, and he groaned. No... It was several someones. Diocletian, and three cronies. "Well, well, well," Diocletian slowly started forward, sneering at Zeke. "Look at the little weakling. Staying afterward for tutoring? You know who needs tutors? Little girls." Zeke raised an eyebrow. "That seems like a low blow, even for you." Diocletian turned slightly red, and he balled his hands into fists. "We''ll see what my father has to say when he hears that you''ve been colluding with House Stragga. Then... Oh, then House Godfrey will feel it for good." "Godfrey!" Professor Gerald''s voice boomed from the room, and Zeke spun around, white-faced. The professor thundered out, holding up a wastebasket. "You didn''t clean this out!" "I..." Zeke stammered. "When you come to my classroom to fulfill your punishments, I expect you to do your job," the professor snapped. "Get out of my sight." Zeke''s cheeks burned as the door slammed shut. He knew that the professor had just saved them both from a world of hurt, but it still stung to be dressed down like that. He sighed and trudged off toward the central staircase, and Diocletian laughed after him. "So that''s what it is? You''ve really been sent to his classroom that much for punishments? How bad must you be at all this? Makes a fellow wonder how you ever even got in the door." Zeke sighed and just walked a bit faster down the stairs. Diocletian slowly followed behind him, continuing to mock him. "Come on, Godfrey! Just give it up. Sure, you completed one trial, but that doesn''t make you a warrior. You''re nothing but a weakling. You''re just a joke, and you shouldn''t be here," Diocletian suddenly darted around in front of him, and placed his hand on his sword. "One might wonder if you can really hold your own here." Zeke sighed and came to a stop. "You''re issuing a challenge to me? You know that dueling isn''t allowed in the Academy halls. If you want to duel, we''d have to go outside." "Oh, now you''re a stickler for the rules?" Diocletian raised an eyebrow. "You know what I think? I think you''re nothing more than a lily-liver." "Once more, your insults are on point today," Zeke sighed and stepped around him. "Don''t you dare walk away from me!" Diocletian roared. As Zeke stepped past him, he stuck out his foot and tripped him, and Zeke went tumbling down the stairs. Falling down a set of stairs is far from a pleasant business, and Zeke found himself whacking head and arms and legs and feet until he slammed into a wall as the stairs curved. He groaned and slowly climbed back to his feet, even as Diocletian charged at him. Diocletian''s sword gleamed, and Zeke knew that he would be given no quarter. He snarled and snatched at his own sword, and through a doorway, someone screamed. A few people came running, and Diocletian lunged. Zeke reacted instantly, slapping away the sword long before it hit him. "Stay away from me!" Diocletian roared and threw himself into an attack. He was fast, far more so than Zeke, and Zeke fell back into the training sessions that he had been undergoing with Victoria. His sword seemed to move of its own accord, fighting a defensive battle. Diocletian pressed forward, forcing him backward, and Zeke allowed it. He took a few steps down the stairs, then entered one of the doorways into another floor of classrooms. By now, more students were beginning to gather, and Diocletian slashed at him with ever-greater fury. "You''re not meant to be here!" He roared. "And no one is going to care when I finish you off!" He slashed high, and Zeke reacted on instinct, falling back again upon what he had been learning. To his great surprise (and Diocletian''s far greater surprise), the sword was knocked clean out of Diocletian''s hand. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. It clattered to the ground, and Zeke raised his own sword to place it at Diocletian''s throat. "I..." Diocletian stammered. "I didn''t mean it." "Yes you did," Zeke sighed, then slowly lowered the sword. He still kept it at the ready, though, above Diocletian''s own weapon. At the same time, he began to focus his aura into his left fist, which he kept slightly back, and behind his side. "Now get away from me." Diocletian flinched, then darted down to grab his sword to continue the fight. Zeke reacted instantly, and threw a punch that connected with Diocletian''s jaw. There was a blast of light, and Diocletian was smashed against a wall a few feet away. Zeke gasped, his hand stinging, and the heavy sound of the boots of professors began to race up. And a few moments later, he was being led up to the office of the Headmistress. ¡¸???????????? ??????????????¡¹ ¡¾Opponent: Diocletian de''Minziar¡¿ ¡¾Result: Victory¡¿ ¡¾Technique Used: Aura-Infused Strike¡¿ ¡¾Consequence: Disciplinary Meeting¡¿ The crowd that had gathered to watch the fight dispersed quickly as the professors arrived. A few students whispered and pointed at Zeke as he was escorted away, but he couldn''t tell if their expressions were impressed or scandalized. Maybe both. As they marched him toward the Headmistress''s office, Zeke felt a strange mix of emotions. On one hand, he was annoyed at being forced into a fight. On the other, there was a certain satisfaction in finally standing up to Diocletian ¨C and winning. He and Diocletian were soon seated down in front of Headmistress Florence, who did not at all look happy to see them. She folded her hands and glared at them both, turning her ire first from one to the next. "He started it," Diocletian raised a finger, pointing at Zeke. "Let''s suppose for a moment that he did," the Headmistress snapped. "Your obvious inability to defend yourself speaks wonders to your studiousness in your classes. If he could land a punch on you in a sword fight, despite not picking up a sword until less than two months ago, what does that say of you? If that is the truth, then you deserve every ounce of pain that you''re feeling." "And if it''s not?" Zeke offered. She glanced sharply at him, then back at Diocletian. "And if it''s not," her voice was pinched. "Then you should know that lying to the Headmistress is a crime punishable by expulsion. Whether or not he started the fight, you come from a proud family line. The disgrace that you''ve brought upon yourself and your family will be enough punishment for now. Get out of my sight." Diocletian nodded and rose. His face was streaked with blood, and he turned and dashed away. The moment the door closed, the Headmistress turned back to Zeke. "What do you have to say for yourself?" "Ask any witness. There were several, including a handful of followers who deserted him at the first sign of trouble," Zeke shrugged. "He attacked me. I tried to defuse it. I managed to disarm him, gave him a chance to cede the fight, and he attacked me again. I did only what was necessary." "Hmm," the Headmistress pressed her fingertips together. Her lips were a line of white across her face. "I also warned him, ahead of time, about the rule regarding duels," Zeke held up a finger. "I did everything that I could, short of standing there and letting myself just get stabbed." "I see," Headmistress Florence sighed, then slowly stood. "Now, if what you''re saying is true, then you acted rightly. The problem is that this isn''t how politics work." "What do you mean?" Zeke demanded, standing up as well. "And that is the reality of this world, a reality that you have been repeatedly told, but seem to refuse to embrace!" The Headmistress snapped. "Seeking tutoring from House Arnette? Sure, your houses have always been friendly enough. Seeking tutoring from Victoria De''Reinfir? Why not? House Reinfir and House Godfrey have been off and on allies. Both of you are expert warriors, which of course has put you at odds just as much as you''ve been fighting together, but you have fought together." "I''m not sure that I see the point here," Zeke frowned. "The point is that you started seeking out tutoring from House Stragga!" The Headmistress snapped. "The point is that you refuse to pursue a proper rivalry with Diocletian De''Minziar. Both houses see the blood in the water and want you dead. Not sidelined. Dead. By refusing to play the game, all you''re doing is painting a target on your back. Your back, and the whole of the Academy." "And why is that?" Zeke was starting to become infuriated. "Because the system works. It has for centuries. Get with the system, or get out of my academy." Zeke felt himself starting to grow hot under the collar. "When I came here, I was told that I needed to forge alliances. That''s all I''ve been trying to do." "Forging alliances sometimes means forging enemies," the Headmistress turned toward him. Her eyes blazed, and she crossed her arms. "The private tutoring sessions with Professor Gerald De''Stragga end now. Not a single one more, and don''t you dare try to go behind my back." Zeke set his jaw. "Yes, ma''am. And what would you have me do about Diocletian? Attack him, next time?" "If you didn''t always hide in the shadows, you wouldn''t invite him to attack you in such a manner," Headmistress Florence answered. "Find a way to challenge him. Publicly. Perhaps... At the Fall Festival?" Quite suddenly, Zeke felt as though he had been led into a trap. Perhaps it had been the doing of the Headmistress, or perhaps the whole thing had been orchestrated by Diocletian, or perhaps even Professor Gerald had set it up. He had no way of knowing, but he knew, in that moment, that the attack had been completely and entirely done with the intent of getting him into a tournament in the Fall Festival. Some party that was going to be. "And if I refuse?" "Then it would seem that another incident of fighting in the hallway might just be grounds for your expulsion," the Headmistress''s voice was cold. Rather than showing his frustration, Zeke found himself grinning. If they wanted a show, he''d give them one. Let Diocletian think he''d forced Zeke into a corner ¨C it would only make victory sweeter. "Fair enough," Zeke nodded, his voice surprisingly steady. "Set me up." "Very well," she nodded. "If you insist, of course." "As long as I''m here, can I ask about the second Trial?" Zeke continued, keeping his tone casual. "I assume that it will be forthcoming." "Oh, yes," Headmistress Florence paused. "Let us set the date for two weeks after the Fall Festival. It will be a much more basic test than the march. A sparring match." "Right," Zeke nodded, mind already racing with plans. "Let''s get to it, then." With that, he turned and left the room, determination building inside him. He might have been manipulated once more, but this time, he was going to use it to his advantage. As Zeke walked back to his dormitory, he found Victoria waiting for him in the corridor. "I heard what happened," she said without preamble. "Word travels fast around here." "I bet it does," Zeke said, continuing to walk. Victoria fell into step beside him. "You disarmed him?" There was a note of surprised respect in her voice. "Knocked his sword right out of his hand," Zeke confirmed. "Then I put him through a wall." Victoria raised an eyebrow. "With an aura-infused punch? That''s advanced technique." "It just happened," Zeke admitted. "I wasn''t even thinking about it. I just needed to stop him from grabbing his sword again." They walked in silence for a moment before Victoria spoke again. "So the Headmistress is forcing you into the Fall Festival tournament." "News really does travel fast," Zeke smiled wryly. "Yes, she made it clear I either participate or face expulsion." "It''s a setup," Victoria said bluntly. "Diocletian will have home-field advantage. His father is one of the tournament judges, and half the participants are from allied houses." "I figured as much," Zeke nodded. "But I don''t have much choice." "Actually," Victoria''s voice took on a different tone, "this could work in your favor." "How so?" "Everyone will be expecting you to lose," she explained. "Diocletian, the Headmistress, the Senate observers - they all think this is going to be your public humiliation." "So when I inevitably lose, they get what they want," Zeke pointed out. "But what if you don''t lose?" Victoria countered. "What if you surprise everyone? The Fall Festival is attended by representatives from all the major houses. If you perform well - even if you don''t win the whole tournament - you could gain allies." Zeke considered this. "You think I have a chance?" "I''ve been training you for weeks now," Victoria said. "And you just took down Diocletian in a hallway brawl. Yes, I think you have a chance - if we step up your training." "They''ve also forbidden me from continuing my aura lessons with Professor Gerald," Zeke told her. Victoria shrugged. "Then we''ll add aura practice to our morning sessions. I''m not as specialized as De''Stragga, but I know the basics. We have three weeks until the Festival - that''s enough time to prepare." "Three weeks to get ready for a tournament where everyone wants me to fail," Zeke summarized. Then, to Victoria''s surprise, he grinned. "Sounds like fun." Victoria stared at him for a moment, then laughed. "You''re either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish." "Probably both," Zeke admitted. "But what other choice do I have?" "None," Victoria agreed. "Be at the south courtyard at four tomorrow morning. That gives us an extra hour. You''re going to need it." "I''ll be there," Zeke promised. As Victoria left, Zeke continued to his room. Inside, he found Ralph sprawled on his bed, reading a book about metalworking. "I heard you punched Diocletian through a wall," Ralph said without looking up. "Nice work." "Word really does get around," Zeke sighed, collapsing onto his own bed. "So you''re in the tournament now," Ralph said, setting his book aside. "Any strategy beyond ''try not to die''?" "Victoria''s going to help me train," Zeke replied. "And I was thinking about what you said before - about how no one expects me to win anyway." "Right," Ralph nodded. "Takes the pressure off." "But what if I did win?" Zeke mused. "Or at least did well enough to make Diocletian look bad?" "That would certainly shake things up," Ralph agreed with a grin. "The nobles would be outraged, the commoners would love it, and I''d make a fortune on betting odds." "You''re going to bet on me?" Zeke asked. "Of course," Ralph said, as if it were obvious. "The odds against you will be astronomical. If you even make it past the first round, I''ll triple my money." "Glad I could help with your gambling problem," Zeke said dryly. "It''s not gambling if you have inside information," Ralph tapped the side of his nose. "And my information says you''re a lot better than people think." Zeke stared up at the ceiling, mind racing. The Fall Festival tournament would be dangerous, no doubt about it. Diocletian and his allies would do everything possible to ensure Zeke''s failure. But if he could somehow turn the tables... "I need to know more about the tournament," he said suddenly. "How it''s structured, what events there are, who the judges are." "Now you''re thinking strategically," Ralph approved. "As it happens, my cousin participated last year. I can tell you everything you need to know." For the next hour, Ralph explained the Fall Festival tournament in detail. It was a three-day event, beginning with preliminary matches to thin the field, followed by quarter-finals and semi-finals, and concluding with the championship duels. Participants could enter different categories - sword fighting, unarmed combat, magical dueling, and a mixed category that allowed any combination of the three. "Which category will Diocletian enter?" Zeke asked. "Sword fighting, definitely," Ralph said. "It''s the most prestigious, and he''s actually quite good. His family has been training him since he could walk." "Then that''s where I''ll enter too," Zeke decided. "Bold choice," Ralph remarked. "You might have a better shot in the mixed category, where you could use that aura punch of yours." Zeke shook his head. "If I''m going to do this, I need to face him directly. No tricks, no special advantages. Just swords." "You''re either very brave or very stupid," Ralph said, unknowingly echoing Victoria. "So I''ve been told," Zeke smiled. That night, as he lay in bed, Zeke thought about everything that had happened. He had come to Leoncrest to complete the 34 Trials and restore his family''s honor. Instead, he had found himself caught in a web of noble politics and ancient rivalries. The Fall Festival tournament wasn''t part of his original plan, but maybe it was exactly what he needed - a chance to show everyone what he was made of. And if he failed? Well, he''d pick himself up and try again. That''s what Artax would do. That''s what a true Godfrey would do. With that thought, Zeke drifted off to sleep, dreaming of swords clashing and crowds cheering. In his dream, he stood victorious, the Fall Festival champion, with Diocletian bowing in defeat before him. Tomorrow, the real work would begin. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [Brace for Impact: Prepare for both the Fall Festival and for the second Trial] 17. Fall Festival [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Grand Courtyard] [Date: October 15, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] The next several weeks passed in a blur. Zeke spent every spare second of the morning training with Victoria, who was more than willing to assist him in getting ready for the tournament, particularly when she heard how he had been manipulated into joining. In the afternoons, he went back to Ralph''s aunt, Professor Gilda de''Arnette, who directed him to her husband, Professor Donald de''Arnette. He was a jovial blacksmith and an expert in Enchanting - the practice of infusing Aura into items as they were forged, ensuring that the chosen magical effects were permanent. It was slightly different than what Zeke needed to know, but Donald was advanced enough that he was able to give Zeke quite a few pointers, and Zeke began to progress in that route once again. He also began to learn a very little bit of basic forging techniques, alongside Ralph, who had been eager to get past the theory and onto the practical side of his chosen progression path for some time (but who, apparently, was quite bad at test-taking). During these weeks of preparation, Zeke had thrown himself into training with a determination that surprised even himself. Every morning before dawn, he was in the courtyard with Victoria, practicing sword forms until his arms felt ready to fall off. Every afternoon, he was at the forge with Professor Donald, learning to channel his aura into metal. Every evening, he studied strategy and tournament rules until he fell asleep with books scattered across his bed. "You''re improving faster than I expected," Victoria had told him one morning after he successfully executed a complex parry-and-riposte sequence. "But technique alone won''t be enough. Diocletian will have tricks prepared. You need to be ready for anything." "Then let''s practice ''anything,''" Zeke had replied with a grin, setting his stance again. "Throw your worst at me." By the time the day of the Fall Festival arrived, Zeke had developed calluses on his hands and a quiet confidence in his movements. He wasn''t deluded enough to think he was the best swordsman among the first-years - not even close - but he was no longer the helpless novice who had arrived at Leoncrest barely able to hold a blade properly. When the day of the Fall Festival came around, Zeke made his way down through the castle and out into the Grand Courtyard, which was located directly to the west of the castle. It was huge, sprawling across several acres, and had been fully decked out for the occasion. There were long tables of food set up, a handful of fighting rings, and even jousting arenas. Zeke watched in amazement as a few riders began their practice runs, and Elise walked up to him. "That looks like so much fun!" Ralph joined them, stretching in the early morning light. "Oh, I can''t wait until I can do that!" "Jousting is reserved for the upper years," Elise pointed out. "It''s an incredibly dangerous sport. Students have been killed doing it before, you know." "Really?" Ralph turned white. "Hey, Zeke? You''re really good at that sort of thing. You ride, I''ll cheer? Get to share in the glory, and all that?" Zeke just rolled his eyes. "We''ll see." His stomach churned nervously, and he started walking toward the food line. "I''m going to grab a bite to eat before the fight." "No, you''re not," Victoria seemed to appear out of nowhere and grabbed his arm. She handed him a small plate of nuts, and he scowled. "Here, eat these. You''ll still be hungry, but it''ll settle the jitters. You can eat when you''re done." "Come on," Zeke scowled. "If you want a chance at winning, and trust me, it''s going to take a miracle, you need every opportunity you can get," Victoria snapped. "More than a few warriors have been brought down over the years because they over-indulged on the eve of a big fight. Come on, eat up." Zeke sighed and started to eat, and Elise leaned over, looking at a paper that Victoria was holding. "Is that the fight schedule?" "Yes," Victoria nodded. "Zeke will fight here in about an hour. Come on. Let''s go watch and see how this is going to play out." Zeke nodded and followed her toward one of the rings, where a few people had started practicing already. "So what does this look like?" Zeke asked. "It''s a tournament," she answered. "You''ll be fighting with blunt swords, but they still hurt, trust me. Single-elimination. You defeat your opponent, you move on. You lose, you''re out. Students are grouped by age, so you''ll only be fighting for champion of the first-years." "Got it," Zeke frowned. "Just remember everything that I''ve taught you," Victoria assured him. "Do that, and you''ll be fine." The group found seats on one of the wooden bleachers that had been set up around the main fighting ring. All around them, students and professors alike were gathering, many carrying food or small pennants with house colors. The atmosphere was festive but charged with competitive energy. "Look, there''s Diocletian," Ralph pointed across the ring where their rival was surrounded by a group of admirers. "Acting like he''s already won." Zeke watched Diocletian laughing and gesturing grandly. "Let him enjoy it now. The fighting hasn''t started yet." "That''s the spirit," Elise smiled, bumping her shoulder against his. As they waited for the tournament to begin, Zeke studied the other competitors warming up. Most had clearly been training their whole lives, moving with the fluid confidence that came from years of practice. In comparison, his few weeks of intensive training seemed woefully inadequate. But there was no backing out now - nor did he want to. The rest of them did their best to reassure him as well, but he spent the next hour more than a bit nervous. When the tournament finally started, a crowd gathered to watch, and Zeke found himself entranced as Diocletian climbed into the ring with a student from House Faure. The moderator dropped his hand, and the two of them went at it. Their swords clattered against one another, again and again. Suddenly, Diocletian spun and hooked his foot around the other student''s ankle. The other boy went down hard, and Diocletian''s sword cracked across the back of his neck. "And that''s the fight!" The moderator called out. "Brutal," Zeke muttered. "But effective," Victoria noted. "Watch his footwork - he''s always looking for ways to trip or unbalance his opponent. Keep that in mind." The next several fights went more or less the same. With blunt swords, the students seemed much more willing to get in close, whacking each other with the hilts or otherwise using their aura to wreak havoc. Still, though, there were a fair number of fights that ended when a sword stroke hit the other person across the chest (or gut, or other vital organ) in what was deemed a "killstroke," or rather what would have been a killing blow had the sword been real. ¡¸???????????????????? ????????????¡¹ ¡¾Event: First-Year Sword Tournament¡¿ ¡¾Format: Single Elimination¡¿ ¡¾Current Stage: Opening Rounds¡¿ ¡¾Next Match: Zeke de''Godfrey vs. Thaddeus de''Stragga¡¿ Finally, it came time for Zeke''s fight, and he slowly climbed over the ropes and into the ring. His opponent hopped over as well, sporting colors from House Stragga. He sneered, and Zeke frowned. It was one of Diocletian''s goons, he was pretty sure of it. Zeke held out his hand as the sword was passed to him, and Elise cheered. "You can do it!" The moderator raised his hand, and Zeke tensed. An instant before it fell, though, the Stragga student lunged, and Zeke only barely got his sword up in time. "Hey!" Victoria called out. "That was illegal!" The moderator didn''t seem to hear her, and Zeke was forced into a defensive battle. His sword flashed through his hands, moving through the strikes and parries that he had been taught. It was much like his battle with Diocletian, where he had very little experience actually fighting, but a fair bit of experience in theory. It wasn''t much, but it was just enough to keep him afloat. "Come on," the other student snapped. "Go down, will you?" Zeke gritted his teeth, then lunged forward, throwing his shoulder into the other boy''s chest. There was a clatter of armor, and the other student went down, hard. Zeke slashed his sword across the back of the neck, leaving a red welt, and stepped back. And, to his surprise, the other student slowly climbed back to his feet. "Hey!" Elise called out, along with a few of the other students, even ones that Zeke knew were from houses that hated him. "That was a killshot!" The moderator seemed to have grown deaf, and the Stragga student grinned. "You can''t win this," he sneered. "Not unless I yield." Zeke sighed, then leapt forward. Knowing that it was liable to get him killed or expelled, he poured his aura into his sword and swung it as hard as he could. Blam! If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. The Stragga student was lifted off his feet and sent back through the ropes, where he hit the ground with a loud whack. Zeke stepped up to the ropes, his palms stinging fiercely, but knowing well that he couldn''t show an ounce of weakness. "Then yield." He did. A mixture of cheers and boos erupted from the crowd as Zeke climbed out of the ring. Victoria met him at the edge, handing him a waterskin. "That was risky," she said quietly. "Using that much aura could get you disqualified." "Not much choice," Zeke replied, taking a grateful drink. "He wasn''t going to acknowledge a fair hit." "The moderator is clearly in Diocletian''s pocket," Ralph observed, joining them. "You''ll need to be even more decisive in your next matches." Elise pushed through the crowd to join them, her face flushed with excitement. "That was amazing! The way you charged him and then that finishing move!" "Thanks," Zeke smiled, genuinely pleased by her enthusiasm. "But that was just the first round. It''s going to get harder from here." The second round of the tournament then began, and Zeke watched as the champions of the previous round fought each other. There were still almost ten fights to get through, making it another thirty minutes before Zeke climbed into the ring again. He found himself facing another of Diocletian''s goons, and sighed. "Come on. Are we really going to do this?" The student snarled and charged, once again before the moderator had given the signal, and Zeke threw himself into the midst of it all. Their swords came crashing together again and again, and Zeke grimaced as he felt the other student pushing him backward. Zeke was still just a bit slower than he would have liked, a bit less powerful. Still, though... A few months earlier, he would have been flat on his back within seconds, so it really was good progress. That said, he knew that he had to win the fight. Good progress or not, it wasn''t going to be enough to keep him safe. Maybe if he made it on to the semi-finals, but even that was a gamble. After thinking it through for a few long moments, an idea popped into his head, and he gritted his teeth. Once more, he lowered his shoulder, and made as if to body-slam his opponent. Likely anticipating the move, the other student lowered himself, preparing to meet him head-on. As such, instead of actually lunging forward, Zeke launched himself to the side, where his opponent was now exposed. His sword crashed firmly across the goon''s shoulder, and knocked him partway to the ground. "Yield?" Zeke snapped. The other student started to turn, and Zeke leapt forward, sweeping the boy''s legs and sending him crashing to the ground. He placed the tip of the sword on the back of his neck, and felt a smile flicker across his face. "Just how much pain do you think that you can endure?" A moment later, he had yielded, too. "That''s two!" Ralph shouted excitedly as Zeke returned to the sidelines. "You''re halfway to the final!" "Don''t get ahead of yourself," Victoria cautioned, but she was smiling. "That was good thinking, though - feinting with the shoulder charge and then changing direction. He fell for it completely." "I figured he''d be expecting what worked last time," Zeke explained, rolling his shoulder. "Had to mix it up." "Smart fighting," Victoria nodded approvingly. "Keep that up." Between rounds, Zeke took the opportunity to study the remaining competitors more carefully. Most were from noble houses allied with Diocletian''s family, as expected. But there were a few wildcards - a quiet, unassuming boy from House Byron who had dispatched his opponents with textbook precision, and a tall girl from House Reinfir who fought with a speed that reminded Zeke of Victoria. The third round had five fights, for the ten winners from the previous round. This time, Zeke found himself facing off against a student that he didn''t recognize. Apparently, the organizers hadn''t believed that Zeke would be able to get past round two. In any case, it was a fairly boring fight, as the student (House Byron), refused to play dirty. House Byron was known for upholding strict chivalry in all circumstances, and the boy repeatedly passed up opportunities that the moderator gave him. Doing so, unfortunately for the sake of chivalry, did more than simply level the playing field, as it made the House Byron student actively hang back, and Zeke soon defeated him. As Zeke climbed out of the ring after his victory, he noticed something unusual - members of several different houses were now watching him with interest rather than derision. He had expected to be treated as an amusement at best, but it seemed his unexpected success was changing perceptions. "You''re gaining attention," Victoria observed, following his gaze. "Good attention. Representatives from House Levayne and House Burgson are taking notes." "Is that good?" Zeke asked. "It means you''re being taken seriously," she replied. "Which is exactly what we wanted." The fourth round included two fights, with Diocletian receiving a pass to the semi-finals. It made Zeke frustrated, but there was nothing that he could do about it. That round was easily the toughest of all, and Zeke found himself facing off against one of Victoria''s cousins, another student that he had often seen in their early-morning sessions. She was good, but in the end, Zeke had just a bit of height on her, and was able to land a killshot across her leg. She had been much more willing to take advantage of early movements and such things against him, but even she was willing to acknowledge the loss upon receiving the blow, and she retreated. As he prepared for his match against Victoria''s cousin, Zeke felt a newfound confidence. He was no longer just trying to survive each match - he was actively looking for ways to win. Victoria had drilled technique into him for weeks, but something else was emerging now: instinct. He was beginning to feel the rhythm of combat, to anticipate rather than just react. The match itself was fast-paced and technical - Victoria''s cousin, Lydia, fought with the same precision that ran in the Reinfir family. But where Victoria was aggressive, Lydia was cautious, preferring to wait for openings rather than create them. Zeke used this to his advantage, intentionally creating false openings to draw her in, then countering when she committed. When he finally landed the decisive blow across her leg, there was genuine respect in her eyes as she acknowledged the hit. "Well fought, de''Godfrey," she said as they shook hands. "Victoria''s taught you well." "Thanks," Zeke replied. "You nearly had me with that feint to the left." "Nearly isn''t good enough in a tournament," she smiled. "Good luck against Diocletian. You''ll need it." Zeke was breathing heavily, and was just climbing out of the ring when the moderator waved at him. "Not yet! It''s time for the semi-final. Diocletian de''Minziar against Zeke de''Godfrey!" Zeke groaned as he realized the predicament. With three people remaining, the "semi-final" had been rigged. Now, fresh off an intense battle, Zeke had to return straight into combat, while Diocletian had just had a good rest. Zeke sighed and bit his lip, then nodded and slowly took up his position. "Alright, Godfrey!" Diocletian practically leapt into the ring. "Now it''s time to teach you good!" Zeke looked Diocletian over. He was bouncing with energy, and Zeke had the distinct feeling that he had been looking forward to fighting him. The only problem was... Well... It seemed like there was something more than that. Diocletian was more than simply eager to fight him, more than simply happy that he had been given a rest, while Zeke hadn''t. Something else was going on, and Zeke couldn''t put his finger on it. And then, as Diocletian spun and waved to the crowds, Zeke caught a glimpse of something beneath Diocletian''s robes. It was another sword, identical to the ones used in the tournaments. Zeke already had his sword, which meant... He watched Diocletian carefully. As a sword was handed across to Diocletian, the boy gave it a twirl, and spun in a circle, allowing his robes to billow about. As he did so, Diocletian slashed his sword downward, and, with a movement that Zeke could only imagine had taken hundreds of hours of practice, switched the swords. Suddenly, as he spun back, he held an identical weapon... But to what end? Zeke knew the answer almost immediately. It was almost certainly enchanted, or poisoned, or something. One blow, and he would be dead. Not just out of the running, but dead. Victoria, off to one side, caught his eye, and she gave her head a shake. She had seen it, too. The moderator, of course, was utterly immune to it. As both of them raised their swords, Zeke suddenly saw a chance, and he bowed his head. "I yield." "You what?" Diocletian blinked in surprise. "I yield," Zeke shrugged. He passed his sword to the moderator, who took it in some surprise. "You have a distinct advantage on me. I congratulate you. I know I can''t win this fight, so I''ll save myself the trouble of being crushed. Fantastic job, and thank you for convincing me to join! It really has been a great pleasure, and I''m so, so grateful for the invitation." Diocletian''s eyes narrowed. All around, there was a ripple of confusion, and the moderator sighed. "Well, in that case, de''Godfrey? You''re out! Can we please have the next-" "Ah, one point of order," Zeke held up a hand. "I do believe that it''s required to turn over your swords between each round? Helps prevent cheating, and all that?" Diocletian''s face turned white, and the moderator sighed. "I suppose so. Seems silly to do it like this, but..." He caught a glimpse of the Headmistress approaching, and he shrugged. "Hand it over." Diocletian was caught, and he reluctantly passed the sword over. As the hilt touched the Moderator''s hand, he froze as still as a statue, and shouts and cries of surprise rang around. "The sword was enchanted!" "He''s been fossilized!" "Cheater!" Headmistress Florence hopped over the ropes and waved a hand in annoyance, and the sword clattered to the ground. The moderator reanimated and blinked a few times in surprise, and she glanced sharply at Diocletian. He took the hint and vanished, and then she turned to Zeke. Zeke simply held her gaze, and shrugged. "And now, no one will remember that I yielded," he bowed slightly. "Is that the way you''d like me to play the system?" She snorted, softly, but he could see that she was, at the very least, impressed that he had wormed his way out of it. He hopped over the ropes and started to walk away, and Victoria, Ralph, and Elise joined him. "And where are you headed now?" Ralph complained. "My legs are tired." "I am heading for that buffet," he glanced over at Victoria. "What''s the healthiest thing over there?" "The nuts and apples," she answered. "Good. Then that''s the only thing I''m not grabbing," he sighed as the tension slowly flowed out of him. "And then, we''re going to celebrate." As they made their way to the food tables, Zeke found himself surrounded by students who had watched his matches. Many congratulated him on his performance, and a few even apologized for underestimating him. The change in attitude was striking - just weeks ago, most of these same students had ignored or mocked him. "Looks like you''ve made some fans," Elise observed as Zeke piled his plate high with roast meat, bread, and sweets. "They''re just impressed I made it to the semi-finals," Zeke shrugged, but he couldn''t hide his pleased smile. "It''s more than that," Victoria said, joining them with her own carefully selected plate of food. "You exposed Diocletian as a cheater in front of everyone. That took both courage and cunning." "Speaking of Diocletian," Ralph lowered his voice, "what do you think the Headmistress will do to him?" "Probably nothing," Victoria replied grimly. "His family has too much influence. But his reputation has taken a hit. Everyone saw what happened." "And that might be punishment enough for now," Zeke said, taking a huge bite of roasted turkey leg. After weeks of Victoria''s strict pre-tournament diet, the food tasted like heaven. They found a spot under a large oak tree at the edge of the courtyard, away from the main crowd. As they ate, Zeke found himself truly relaxing for the first time in weeks. The tournament was over, he had performed far better than anyone had expected, and he had exposed Diocletian''s treachery without having to fight an enchanted sword. "So what happens now?" Elise asked after they had eaten their fill. "Now I prepare for the second Trial," Zeke replied. "The Headmistress said it would be a sparring match, two weeks after the Festival." "A sparring match should be straightforward enough," Ralph said optimistically. Victoria shook her head. "Nothing about the Trials is straightforward. There will be a twist, you can count on it." "Then we''ll figure it out when it comes," Zeke said confidently. "Today was supposed to be my public humiliation, and look how that turned out." As the afternoon wore on, they watched the final match of the tournament - the winner of the other semi-final against Diocletian, who had been allowed to continue despite the sword incident. Diocletian won easily, but his victory celebration was subdued, with only his closest allies cheering enthusiastically. Later, as the sun began to set, musicians took up positions around the courtyard, and the Festival transformed from a competitive event to a celebration. Students and professors alike danced to lively tunes, the tensions of the tournaments forgotten in the festive atmosphere. "Come on," Elise grabbed Zeke''s hand. "They''re starting the dancing!" "I don''t know how to dance," Zeke protested, but allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "Neither do I," Elise laughed. "But that''s not going to stop me from trying!" As they joined the crowds of dancers, Zeke found himself surrounded by students from all houses, many of whom nodded to him in acknowledgment or raised glasses in his direction. It was a strange feeling, this new respect, but not an unpleasant one. For tonight, at least, he could enjoy it. Tomorrow would bring new challenges - the second Trial loomed just two weeks away, and Diocletian would surely be looking for revenge after today''s humiliation. But Zeke was no longer the untrained, uncertain boy who had arrived at Leoncrest just months ago. He was changing, growing stronger and more confident with each challenge he faced. And as he dancedunderthestarswith his friends, Zeke allowed himself to believe, just for a moment, that he might actually succeed in completing all 34 Trials after all. "To the Fall Festival!" Ralph shouted, raising a cup of sweet cider. "And to Zeke de''Godfrey, who made it a lot more interesting than anyone expected!" Zeke laughed and raised his cup. "To the friends who helped make it possible!" As they toasted and continued celebrating, looked and saw the Headmistress watching him from across the courtyard. Her expression was unreadable, but she nodded slightly before turning away. Whether it was out of respect or simply acknowledgment of a game well played, Zeke couldn''t tell. But either way, he had survived the Fall Festival. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [Be Prepared: Get ready for the 2nd Trial] [Watchful: Keep an eye out for retribution] 18. Campfire Stories [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Dining Hall] [Date: October 17, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] Two days later, Zeke found himself wandering through the dining hall, looking for a place to sit down. Ralph was nowhere to be seen, having gotten stuck with extra duty in history class after he, well, Zeke still hadn''t been able to get the full story out of him, but he gathered that it was something to do with putting chalk into the professor''s mustache. In any case, Ralph wasn''t going to be free for dinner for some time, which left him with only Elise. And, on that day, Elise seemed to have been snagged by her instructor. Zeke caught Elise''s eyes as she was led from the hall, right behind the prudish-looking woman. Zeke winced, and Elise sighed, then waved quickly as she vanished. Zeke watched her go, then frowned and glanced around. "Hey! De''Godfrey! Over here!" Zeke glanced around and located Victoria sitting just a few tables away. She was sitting right next to the red-headed girl that he had seen earlier. What had her name been? He didn''t know. There were a few other duelists there, and he nodded and made his way over, sitting down right across from her. "Thanks," Zeke sighed. "I appreciate it." "Anything for one of my top duelists," Victoria shrugged. "By the way, we haven''t really had time to talk much since the fight, but that really was a brilliant move. Has to have hurt to surrender, but he would have killed you in a heartbeat." "The Sleep of Death enchantment," the redhead commented idly, picking at her food. "One of the most dangerous enchantments in the world, and outlawed in every civilized nation that we know of." "Really?" Zeke frowned. "I knew it was dangerous, but that bad?" "You saw what it did to the moderator," Victoria answered. "It freezes you solid. Diocletian probably had protective gloves or something that he was wearing. Actually, the fact that the moderator just grabbed it probably saved his life. The real danger from it comes when you just get nicked. If the enchantment only brushes you, it''ll only affect a small part of your body." "Which normally causes the blood in that part of your body to stop flowing," the redhead nodded, grimacing. "A hit in the chest will kill you within seconds. A hit to another part of your body? It depends, but it can cause you to lose limbs, and a blow to the head will really mess you up, as your heart and lungs suddenly get mixed signals from your brain. It''s really, really terrible, on more levels than I can express." "Good to know," Zeke muttered, then turned to the redhead. "It would seem that you know my name, but I''m afraid that I haven''t had the pleasure, at least not formally." The girl flashed a small smile. "Ingrid Stormhall." "Stormhall?" Zeke frowned. "Not a house name I recognize." "That''s because it''s not. The Stormhalls are named for what we do. Storm halls, or, if you want it in simple terms, attack castles," Ingrid shrugged with a smile. "We''re mercenaries, essentially. We''re actually not based out of Athia at all, our main fortress is located in the Dalformia." "So how did you get in here?" Zeke asked, amazed. "Oh, a word in the right person''s ear," she shrugged. "My particular branch of the family has been here for some time, serving different noble families in border skirmishes here and there. It was decided that if I came to the Academy, it might help legitimize our clan here." "I see," Zeke frowned, then shrugged. "So what are the two of you doing for your break before classes start again? We''ve still got a little bit of time, and I haven''t really decided how I''m going to spend it." "We were actually planning a camping trip," Victoria answered. "There are a handful of us going. Want to come? We''ll just be heading out into the Old Woods, nothing intense. A way to practice some survival skills while getting out of the castle." "I''m just getting out of the castle," Ingrid muttered. "I already know how to survive, thank you very much." "Then you can teach the rest of us!" Victoria declared. "I am not thinking about school," Ingrid snapped, then sighed and shook her head. "Sorry. Been an intense semester." "I''ll take your word for it," Zeke grinned. "But a camping trip sounds great! When are we leaving?" "This evening, northwest courtyard," Victoria answered. "We''re leaving an hour before sunset, so don''t be late!" "Wouldn''t miss it for anything," Zeke promised, already excited by the prospect of an adventure in the woods. After the tension of the tournament, getting away from the academy grounds sounded perfect. ¡¸?????? ??????????????????¡¹ ¡¾Event: Camping Trip¡¿ ¡¾Location: Old Woods¡¿ ¡¾Participants: Victoria, Ingrid, Zeke, and others¡¿ ¡¾Departure: Northwest Courtyard, before sunset¡¿ After dinner, Zeke hurried back to his room to gather what he''d need for the camping trip. As he was packing his small travel bag, Ralph burst in, looking frazzled. "You would not believe the day I''ve had," Ralph groaned, flopping onto his bed. "Professor Hobbson made me write ''I will not alter the facial hair of Academy staff'' five hundred times. My hand feels like it''s about to fall off." "Maybe next time don''t put chalk in the professor''s mustache," Zeke suggested, struggling not to laugh. "What were you thinking anyway?" Ralph grinned. "It was a dare from a girl in House Byron. She bet me I wouldn''t do it." "And was it worth it?" "She''s agreed to go to the Winter Festival dance with me, so absolutely," Ralph sat up, noticing Zeke''s packing. "Where are you off to?" "Camping trip with Victoria and some others," Zeke explained. "We''re heading out to the Old Woods for the night." "The Old Woods?" Ralph''s eyes widened. "Did you know that place is supposedly haunted? There''s this ghost called the Wailing Widow who roams around looking for her lost husband. They say if she finds you alone, she''ll mistake you for him and drag you off to her grave!" "You made that up," Zeke accused, though he couldn''t help a small shiver running down his spine. "Did not! Ask anyone!" Ralph insisted. "Just be careful out there, is all I''m saying." "I survived the Dark Forest during my Trial. I think I can handle some made-up ghost," Zeke said confidently, though he made a mental note to stay close to the group. Just in case. That evening, Zeke made his way to the Northwest Courtyard right on time. A small group of students had assembled, several of which he recognized from the dueling class, but most of whom were new to him. Victoria waved as he walked up, and he nodded gratefully to her. He had a small bag slung over his back containing a change of clothes, a blanket, and a few other essentials that Ralph had insisted he''d need. "And I think that''s everyone!" Victoria beamed. "Shall we get going?" "Yes," Ingrid muttered. She didn''t seem particularly pleased, but Zeke was gathering that she wasn''t the sort of person who was ordinarily happy about things. "Let''s go." "Great!" Victoria pulled out her map and started walking toward the gate that led to the Old Forest. "Let''s see here. We''re going to want to cross the River at the Stone Bridge, and then-" "You''re holding the map upside-down," Ingrid muttered. "Am I?" Victoria frowned and flipped it sideways, then nodded. "Ah, yes! This way!" "You''re doing this just to annoy me," Ingrid growled. "Is it working?" Zeke smiled as he watched the banter between the two girls. They certainly had the simple ease that only came from people who had known each other for quite some time. Ingrid took the map after a few moments, and they struck off into the woods. The sun was already setting, and the path grew dark. One of the students, a mage, launched two flickering orbs that floated along in front of them, lighting the way. "Why didn''t we leave earlier in the day?" one of the other students complained. "Because your intrepid leader has a pillow for a brain," Ingrid commented. "Because that''s part of the fun!" Victoria answered. "Come on. Marching out to your campsite during the day is boring." "And practical." "And, in the daytime, you don''t see the ghosts of the Old Wood." The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "There are no such things as ghosts," Ingrid snapped. "Everyone knows that ghosts exist," Victoria countered. "Spirits exist, some evil and some good," Ingrid sounded like a professor. "Occasionally, the souls of the departed are allowed to return to the world to beg for favors or to give warnings, but they don''t do so of their own will." "Which people call ghosts." "No! The definition of a ghost is-" As the two girls continued their bickering, Zeke felt a strange mixture of amusement and unease. Ralph''s story about the Wailing Widow suddenly seemed less ridiculous as the shadows between the trees grew deeper and the forest sounds became more pronounced. "What about you, de''Godfrey?" one of the other students asked, falling into step beside him. "Do you believe in ghosts?" "I believe there are plenty of things in this world we don''t understand," Zeke replied diplomatically. "And I wouldn''t want to meet any of them alone in these woods." This earned him a laugh from the group as they continued their journey, passing by much of the territory that Zeke recognized from his first Trial. He found himself scanning the trees and underbrush, half-expecting to see signs of his previous passage or perhaps even evidence of his fight with the wolf. Finally, they departed from the main path and struck through the thick, twisted wood for about half an hour, coming to a clearing surrounded by old elms and oak trees. "And here we go," Victoria declared. "Let''s get this going!" The mage made a fire at the center of the clearing, along with creating more glowing orbs that floated out to hover around the edges of the area. The illumination revealed a handful of old stones, carved with strange squiggly marks. Zeke was sure that they were letters or symbols of some sort, but he couldn''t even begin to decipher them. "What are these stones?" he asked, running his fingers over the strange carvings. "No one knows for sure," Victoria replied, dropping her pack near the fire. "Some say they''re markers for ancient graves. Others think they were used for rituals long before the Academy was established." "Great," muttered one of the other students. "We''re camping on a burial ground. That''s not asking for trouble at all." "Relax," Ingrid said, "if anything was going to possess us for disturbing ancient resting places, it would have happened to the hundreds of students who''ve camped here before." "That''s... not actually reassuring," the student replied, causing everyone to laugh. A meal was placed over the fire, which Zeke was glad for as he was quite hungry, and tents were pitched. Zeke''s tent was nothing fancy, a little one that he had borrowed from Ralph, but it was good enough for a single person. He put it up right at the base of an oak, sheltered somewhat from the darkness around. As he worked on his tent, Zeke noticed something unusual about the oak tree. There was a strange hollow in the trunk, about head-height, that seemed deeper than natural. Curious, he peered inside and saw what looked like a small metal object. Reaching in carefully, Zeke pulled out a tarnished silver medallion on a broken chain. It bore the image of a sword crossed with what appeared to be a writing quill. "Find something interesting?" Victoria asked, appearing suddenly beside him. Zeke showed her the medallion. "It was in the tree. Any idea what it is?" Victoria examined it closely, her brow furrowing. "It looks like the emblem of a society that existed at the Academy decades ago - the Scribes of Steel, I think they were called. They were disbanded after some controversy, but I don''t know the details." "Why would it be hidden in a tree out here?" "Good question," Victoria handed it back to him. "Maybe someone was trying to hide evidence. Or maybe it''s just a lost trinket. Either way, it''s yours now - a souvenir from your first camping trip with us." Zeke pocketed the medallion, making a mental note to ask Adrian Levayne about it when they returned to the Academy. When the tents were all set up, the food was just about done, and Zeke came up to the fire where steaming hot potatoes and roasted chicken were passed around. It was simple, but it was lovely. Everyone ate their fill, and then sat back as they digested it all. "So, why don''t we all go around and share a memory from our childhood?" Victoria suggested. Ingrid groaned, and several other people looked away, but she pressed forward. "I have this memory of the first time I picked up a sword. I mean, like, really picked it up. I tried to duel the palace cat. I called it a coward for running away, and chased it all over the place for two days. I finally cornered it up in a redbud tree." She laughed, then sighed. "It still hasn''t regrown its tail." Several members of the group gasped in horror, and she burst out laughing. "I''m kidding, I''m kidding! I did try to chop it off, but the sword was blunt." Zeke laughed along with them all. After a moment, Ingrid spoke up as well. "I remember the first battle that I was involved in. I was six, and was watching it from a distance," her voice became distant. "We were attacking a castle that was held by a group of rebels in Agrad-Dul. They were part of some cult trying to end the world or something, I don''t really remember what exactly was happening there. All I remember is watching my father lead the charge. His shield was almost larger than his whole body, and he ran right through a torrent of arrows that should have killed him. When he reached the wall of the castle, he heaved up this grappling hook, which was connected to a metal cable that was almost impossible to cut through. I saw him climbing up, saw the rebels screaming and running around in terror. I''ll never forget it." There was silence for a long moment, and Zeke cleared his throat. "I remember when my brother, Artax, came home after completing the 34th Trial," he murmured. "He looked like a warrior out of one of my storybooks. I was so proud to see him standing there, ready to defend our world. I knew that there was nothing in the whole wide world that would be able to stop him." Zeke paused, thinking of his brother now - still strong in spirit but forever changed by his encounter with Socrax. "That''s why I''m here," he continued. "Not to replace him, but to stand beside him. To be the sword he can no longer wield." The group fell silent, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the clearing. After a moment, Victoria placed her hand on Zeke''s shoulder. "That''s what makes a true knight," she said softly. "Not the strength of your arm, but the strength of your heart." After that, everyone else shared their own memories - tales of first hunts, magical mishaps, childhood adventures. The stories ranged from hilarious to heartwarming, and Zeke found himself enjoying the camaraderie. These were his peers, fellow students on their own journeys to greatness, and for perhaps the first time since arriving at Leoncrest, he felt truly part of their world. As the fire burned lower and the night grew deeper, Victoria leaned forward with a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Now, who wants to hear about the ghost that haunts these very woods?" "Oh, not this again," Ingrid groaned, but the rest of the group eagerly gathered closer. "They say that long ago, before Leoncrest was even built, a powerful mage lived in these woods," Victoria began, her voice dropping to a whisper. "He was experimenting with dimensions beyond our own, seeking knowledge forbidden to mortals. One night, during a ritual performed right here in this clearing, he tore open a doorway between worlds." The fire seemed to dim as Victoria continued her tale. "Something came through that door - something ancient and hungry. It devoured the mage, but not before he sealed it away using his own life force. They say his spirit still guards the seal, and on nights when the veil between worlds is thin, you can hear him whispering warnings to those who listen." A twig snapped somewhere in the darkness beyond the clearing, causing several students to jump. Victoria grinned at their reaction. "Just a story," she assured them. "Probably." "Definitely just a story," Ingrid said firmly. "And with that, I think it''s time we all got some rest. We have to hike back tomorrow, after all." As everyone began to retire to their tents, Zeke found himself staring into the darkness between the trees. Was that a flicker of movement, or just shadows dancing in the firelight? He shook his head, smiling at his own imagination. Victoria''s story had obviously gotten to him more than he''d like to admit. When that was over, everyone started retiring to their tents. Victoria made a comment about yelling if you get attacked by ghosts, but Zeke was hardly paying any attention. He slid back into his tent and was about to zip it shut when Ingrid poked her head inside. "Mind if we chat for a second?" Zeke nodded. "Not at all." Ingrid stepped into the tent and sat down. It was hardly large enough for the two of them, but they just fit. "I was just wanting to ask you about your brother, Artax." "What about him?" Zeke frowned. "I just... I was wondering what it was like growing up in his shadow," Ingrid frowned. "I don''t mean to ask it like that, just so you know. I..." She sighed. "My older brother was supposed to be the warrior of the family, but he was crippled in a carriage accident as a child. I''ve taken up the banner, and obviously managed to make it here, but I know he wishes that he could be in my shoes." Zeke frowned and thought for a moment. "Honestly, it really wasn''t too bad." "It wasn''t?" Ingrid pressed. "You''re sure?" "I''m sure," Zeke nodded. "If I think that if Artax had treated me differently, it might have been, but he didn''t. He didn''t treat me with kid gloves, like I was this fragile little thing that couldn''t be broken. He just treated me like a brother. For everyone else, I was either a key to getting near to Artax, or I was just the spoiled prince. For him, I was his best friend. There was a lot about my life that I didn''t like, but taking a backseat to him? That wasn''t one of them." "Hmm," Ingrid frowned and nodded. "I''ll keep that in mind. Thanks." "Anything," Zeke shrugged, then nodded to her. "So what''s the real reason you came here?" "Real reason?" Ingrid asked. "What do you mean?" "I mean, your family has specialized in warfare for generations, the way you tell it. You know how to command an army," Zeke answered. "You almost certainly know how to wield a sword, but you''re not in a combat line of study. You''re not here just for legitimacy, either. New noble families rise all the time, all you''d have to do is buy some land and build a castle, and then demand a place in the Senate." "It''s not quite that simple, but I do know what you''re saying," Ingrid flashed him a small smile, then sighed and shook her head. "We only just met. I can''t reveal all my secrets to you, not just yet." "Fair enough," Zeke bowed his head. "That said... You''re perceptive," Ingrid slipped back out of the tent, pausing a moment to glance in at him. "I''ll certainly give you that. Catch you around?" With that, she was gone, and Zeke settled down in his borrowed tent. Just as he was about to close his eyes, he remembered the medallion he''d found. He pulled it out and studied it once more by the dim light filtering through the tent fabric. The sword and quill symbol was intriguing. A society that combined combat and scholarship? That sounded exactly like the kind of group that might help him prepare for the Trials. He wondered if they still existed in some form, perhaps operating in secret. Tucking the medallion safely away, Zeke lay back and listened to the sounds of the night. Muffled conversation continued to float around, punctuated by the crackling of the fire. Wind blew softly through the treetops, and the flickering light of the fire made long shadows across the walls of the tent. It was nice... Made even nicer by the fact that he now had friends to share it all with. He really was starting to make his way at the academy. He only hoped that, as time passed, he''d be able to continue that trend. Sometime in the middle of the night, Zeke was awakened by a strange sound. It wasn''t quite a voice, nor was it the wind - but something in between, a whisper that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Zeke sat up, fully alert. Was this part of Victoria''s ghost story come to life? Or perhaps some prank being played by one of the other students? The sound came again, slightly clearer this time. It almost seemed to be saying a word. His name? No, something else... Curiosity overcoming caution, Zeke slipped out of his tent. The clearing was silent, the fire now reduced to glowing embers. Everyone else appeared to be asleep in their tents. The floating lights created by the mage student still hovered at the edges of the clearing, casting a soft, ghostly glow. The sound came once more, definitely from the woods beyond the clearing. Against his better judgment, Zeke moved toward it, drawn by some instinct he couldn''t explain. At the edge of the clearing, just beyond the circle of light, he paused. This was foolish. The woods were dangerous enough in daylight, let alone in the middle of the night. He should go back to his tent and forget about the strange noise. But then he saw it - a faint blue glow between the trees, pulsing gently like a heartbeat. The medallion in his pocket suddenly felt warm against his leg. Before Zeke could decide what to do, a hand clasped his shoulder. He nearly jumped out of his skin, spinning around to find Ingrid standing behind him. "Going somewhere?" she asked quietly, her eyes narrow with suspicion. "I thought I heard something," Zeke explained, glancing back toward where he''d seen the glow. It was gone now, the forest dark and still once more. Ingrid followed his gaze, then shook her head. "The Old Woods play tricks on the mind, especially at night. Go back to your tent, de''Godfrey. Whatever you think you heard, it''s not worth risking your neck over." As they walked back to the tents, Zeke couldn''t shake the feeling that something significant had just happened - or almost happened. The medallion had cooled in his pocket, but the memory of that pulsing blue light remained vivid in his mind. He would definitely be asking Adrian about the Scribes of Steel when they returned to the Academy. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [Be Prepared: Get ready for the 2nd Trial] [New: Investigate the Scribes of Steel medallion] 19. Ancient Mysteries [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 1] [Date: October 20, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] The castle halls remained quiet for the next several days, as the break between terms continued. A great many of the students seemed to have flooded south to the Capital, likely to spend time both in the Senate and in whatever flavors of debauchery the Capital city had to offer. Zeke had no particular desire to go, particularly since none of his family was going to be there anyway. Instead, he spent his mornings training with Victoria and whoever else showed up at the practice grounds, his afternoons exploring the castle grounds, and his evenings researching in the library. The medallion he''d found in the woods never left his pocket - a constant reminder of the mystery he hoped to solve. On the morning of the 20th, he was just making his way off the sparring courts and toward the dining hall when a little paper bird fluttered up to him. It landed in his hand and unfolded, and he frowned down at an elegantly-scrawled note. "Dear Zeke de''Godfrey, I would like to request the pleasure of your presence in the library at some point today. Signed, Adrian de''Levayne." Zeke brightened, and he nodded, even though there was no way that anyone could see the response. This might be his chance to ask about the Scribes of Steel. With that, he stuffed the note into his pocket and started on down the stairs. It didn''t take long for him to gather up his breakfast, and he made his way to the library. He ate on the way, finishing up a few rolls (which Victoria almost certainly would have told him not to eat). A moment later, he arrived in the library, where Adrian looked up from a book that he was reading. "Ah! Zeke! Good to see you." "Thanks for inviting me," Zeke shrugged. "Sorry I''m a bit sweaty. Early morning workout, and all that." "Yes, so I''ve heard," Adrian was seated at a table, and gestured for Zeke to sit down across from him. "I''ve been following your progress, and from everything that I can tell, you''re doing an excellent job at pretty much everything." "I''m improving rapidly," Zeke countered. "That''s pretty far from just doing a good job." "Well, we all must start somewhere, and you''re off to a better one than most people, I daresay," Adrian sighed and folded his hands. "That''s why I''ve been hesitant to contact you. I know how busy you''ve been, and it seems that not even going on break can properly knock you down." "Hey, the classes aren''t going to get any easier when they come back into session," Zeke paused, then sighed. "I should probably be studying my history a bit more, too, but if I pay attention in his lectures I can at least get a halfway decent grade on his tests, so I''m a lot less concerned about that class than Aura Infusion and Swordsmanship." "Fair enough," Adrian nodded. "And what of your politics class?" "Honestly? It feels like a joke to me," Zeke shrugged. "I''m passing it with a high enough margin that I''m not concerned." "Good enough, I suppose," Adrian frowned for a moment, then sighed. "Well, I don''t mean to sound mysterious, but would you care to come with me?" Zeke frowned and slowly nodded. "What for?" "I have something to show you that might be of interest," Adrian replied, rising from his seat. "Something related to a certain medallion you might have recently acquired." Zeke''s hand instinctively went to his pocket where the Scribes of Steel medallion rested. "How did you know about that?" Adrian smiled cryptically. "I make it my business to know many things, young de''Godfrey. Now, shall we?" Without another word of explanation, Adrian stood up and slipped back through the rows of books. Zeke followed, and found himself traveling deeper into the library than he had yet gone. Back through the shelves, deeper and deeper into the sea of knowledge, until they came to a small doorway that led to an office. Adrian pushed open the door to reveal a simple desk, as well as a small bookshelf. He lifted a hand, and a handful of crystals around the area began to glow, lighting it well. They stepped inside, and he closed the door once more, motioning for Zeke to sit down across the desk from him. "So this is your office?" Zeke asked, taking his seat. "Yes," Adrian sighed as he sat down. "In my role as curator of the Library, I rarely use it, though. The majority of my work, at least by volume, comes from helping students locate the volumes that they need, as it can be quite tricky to find some of them. I also coordinate the acquisition of other volumes from an assortment of places across the nations, put books back when they get returned, track down books that have gone missing, and that sort of thing." "But sometimes you do need this office," Zeke frowned, wondering exactly where the conversation was going. "Yes," Adrian paused. "There is some knowledge in the world that should be kept secret, or that should be revealed only to certain, select people. This room is where I write letters that touch upon such subjects to one degree or another, or where I meet with people about such matters." "Shouldn''t knowledge just be free? Accessible to all?" Zeke asked, confused. "Some knowledge, yes," Adrian confirmed. "Other knowledge, no. For example, only a few years ago, one of our students accidentally discovered a recipe for creating a potion of death. Even a whiff could make a person sick, and to drink it would have been instant death. Pouring said potion into a river would have poisoned the land for hundreds of miles downstream. That sort of knowledge is not the sort of thing that needed to be given out. We recorded the recipe as she related it, swore her to secrecy, and then buried it. Well, I should say, I spent several weeks studying the recipe, trying to figure out exactly what made it tick." "Why would you do that?" Zeke asked. "Because death potions have long been known to the world," Adrian shrugged. "Witches, doctors, and even well-meaning peasants have long since stumbled upon them. What was startling to us is that there are a few plants and herbs that are known to be key ingredients in such compounds, and for generations, none of them have been allowed to grow upon Academy grounds. The new recipe that she provided contained none of them, but I was able to repeat the experiment to confirm that it did exactly what she claimed. After some study, and comparing to old recipes, I was able to discern that one of the other common ingredients in the old potions, long since assumed to be a mostly inert ingredient, was actually far more powerful than we realized. We were then able to take steps to limit access to said ingredient on Academy grounds, hopefully preventing anyone from being hurt in the future." "I have to say, I''m not sure exactly what you''re driving at," Zeke frowned. "I know I''m getting to it in a roundabout way, but," Adrian sighed. "In my job, I know a great many things. Some of them are good, and some are bad. All are useful, in the right hands. What I am going to tell you is like that. For you, it could become the key to unraveling an ancient mystery, or it could destroy you. The choice will largely lie in your hands." Zeke felt his heart beginning to hammer faster. "Okay. I''m ready." "I''m not certain that you are, but I''m not going to turn back now," Adrian bit his lip, then plowed forward. "I think someone has been trying to kill your brother, Artax, for far longer than he''s willing to admit." "What?" Zeke blinked in surprise. Of all the things that Adrian could have said, that certainly wasn''t it. "What do you mean?" The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "I''ve spoken to your brother, briefly, since the incident with the dragon. He does believe that he was tricked, and he said that he had told you as much, but he believes it to have been a crime of opportunity, nothing more," Adrian answered, folding his hands. "I, however, believe that someone has been trying to kill your brother since his time here at the Academy. The first assassination attempt happened when he hadn''t been here much longer than you, actually." Zeke''s mouth went dry. "You mean like using an enchanted sword in a fight?" "No," Adrian shook his head. "What happened with Diocletian was unfortunate, but was nothing more than a jealous peer with a few party tricks up his sleeve. What happened to your brother was far different. He was on his three-day march, the first Trial. He didn''t do that one until later into the year, and coming off of the desert, he was weary. He remembers striking his foot on something hard, and the next thing he knew, he was being pulled out of the river next to the castle. Everyone just assumed that he had gone down to the stepping stones and fallen in, or stumbled, and in his exhausted state, collapsed into the river." "You think differently?" Zeke queried. "I do," Adrian confirmed. "I was one of the first people to examine him, and when I did, I found something odd. There was a hole through his boot, punched clean through the leather sole. He hadn''t taken his combat boots, you see, since he didn''t want them to slow him down. Being less reinforced, it would have been possible to puncture it with some sort of poison. When I removed his boot, I found a matching puncture mark on the side of his foot, near his toe. I am convinced that someone struck him with a poisoned weapon, it could have been an arrow, or a dagger, or a sword, or any number of other things, and then threw his body into the river. When I attempted to bring it up to the Headmaster at the time, I was rebuffed, and when I returned to Artax, his boots had been swapped for new ones. The puncture mark was gone, and the wound on his foot was chalked up to bashing his foot against a stone or piece of wood or something similar in the river. Even he refused to believe me, but I am not one to be deceived." Zeke leaned forward, his mind racing with the implications. If someone had been targeting Artax years ago, they might now have shifted their focus to him. "You said something about an ancient mystery," Zeke crossed his arms. "What''s that?" "I''ll get to that in just a second. Let''s not be hasty," Adrian answered. "The point that I am trying to make is that I believe that someone was after his blood, and it wasn''t the last time that they tried. In several other trials, strange things happened that I believe weren''t just chance. I warned Artax, but he wouldn''t listen to me. He was certain that I was crazy, or at the least, that I was simply being over zealous. I believe that what he said was I needed to pull my nose out of my books, because I was seeing conspiracy where there wasn''t any." "Interesting," Zeke crossed his arms. "All of this leads to the circumstances that led him to that mountainside," Adrian paused for a moment. "I''ve been digging into that fateful trip, and something strange appeared to me. In your brother''s mission logs, it seems that the only reason that they were in that village, where they could receive the message to walk into the trap, was because of a coincidence in and of itself." "And what was that?" Zeke leaned forward. "Three weeks prior, he had been traveling through the city of Magnolia Root. There, he was planning to take a more southern road, heading toward a disturbance on the western front involving the possibility of some cave trolls. Nothing major, just routine work for the greatest knight of the realm. It was at that time that his second in command, Constantine, came to him and informed him that there was a report of bandits to the north. They traveled that way, and apparently chased the bandits for some distance before losing the trail. By that point, it was easier to continue in a different direction westward, instead of traveling back down to the place where they had begun." "So if the bandits were a ruse," Zeke said, his pulse quickening. "It ensured that he would be in the right place when the time came," Adrian confirmed. "And that is what scares me. If what Artax thinks happened is true, then it merely means that one of the assorted noble families keeps tabs on the Dragons of Calamity. Worrisome, but not the end of the world. For someone to have orchestrated such an elaborate ruse, though, speaks to something far darker. It becomes much more premeditated instead of simply a crime of opportunity." "Why would they want Artax dead?" Zeke demanded. "That is, indeed, the question," Adrian sighed. "I truly wish that I could say, and that brings me back to the ancient mystery. The eight Dragons of Calamity. You''ve heard of them?" "Only in legends," Zeke shrugged. "Legends are often enough based on truth," Adrian flashed a small, worried smile. "They say that when the dragons move, the world quakes. When the dragons snort, the world burns. When the dragons strike, the world crumbles. I fear for this, and I fear for it greatly." Adrian stood up and moved to a small bookshelf behind his desk. He pulled out an old volume bound in faded leather and set it before Zeke. Opening it carefully, he revealed pages of ancient text and illustrations of fearsome dragons. "The Dragons of Calamity are not merely beasts," Adrian explained, pointing to an illustration. "They are forces of nature, ancient beings with powers beyond our comprehension. According to these texts, they appear when the world is out of balance, when there is too much corruption in the seats of power." He turned the page to show an illustration of knights battling a massive dragon. "Throughout history, the only force that has successfully opposed them has been the Knightly Orders, particularly those dedicated to maintaining balance in the world." "Like House Godfrey," Zeke murmured. "Precisely," Adrian nodded. "Your family has a long tradition of standing against such threats. Which brings me to this." He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a medallion identical to the one Zeke had found in the woods. "The Scribes of Steel," Zeke breathed. Adrian looked surprised. "You know of them?" Zeke pulled out his own medallion and placed it next to Adrian''s. "I found this in the Old Woods during a camping trip. Victoria said they were some kind of society at the Academy." "They were much more than that," Adrian said quietly. "The Scribes of Steel were an order founded within Leoncrest over a century ago, dedicated to two purposes: preserving knowledge about the Dragons of Calamity, and training knights capable of standing against them when they returned." "What happened to them?" Zeke asked. "They were disbanded about forty years ago," Adrian replied. "Officially, because they were engaging in forbidden magical research. Unofficially..." He paused, glancing at the door. "Unofficially?" Zeke prompted. "Unofficially, I believe they discovered something that certain powerful parties didn''t want known. Something about the Dragons of Calamity and who might be controlling their appearances." Zeke''s mind reeled with the implications. "You think someone is controlling the Dragons? Making them attack specific targets?" "I don''t know for certain," Adrian admitted. "But I''ve been researching this for years, and the patterns are too convenient to be coincidence. The Dragons always seem to appear at moments that benefit certain factions. And your brother''s encounter with Socrax is a prime example." "But who would have that kind of power?" Zeke asked. "And why target my family specifically?" "That''s what I''ve been trying to discover," Adrian said. "And it''s why I wanted to speak with you today. The fact that you found this medallion is... significant. I believe it was meant for you to find." "By who?" "That''s the question, isn''t it?" Adrian smiled. "The Scribes of Steel may have been officially disbanded, but some believe they continue their work in secret. I think they''ve been watching you, Zeke. And I think they''re trying to help you." Zeke turned the medallion over in his hand, feeling its weight. "So what should I do with this?" he asked, feeling a mixture of excitement and unease. "For now? Keep it close," Adrian said. "And watch for signs. The Scribes were known for leaving clues in plain sight, messages that only the right people would understand." Adrian stood up, signaling that their private conversation was nearing its end. "Remember what I was saying at the beginning. Some knowledge is best if it is simply stored away. Such as, for example, old recipes for death potions. Then, when new opportunities arise, when new things happen, you have a point of reference to compare it to. What has happened to Artax could easily happen to you, too. Don''t give anyone that chance." With that, Adrian rose, and gestured idly with his hand. The door of the room sprang open, and Zeke bowed his head as he rose. A moment later, he slipped out, and Adrian followed him. "One more thing," Adrian said as they walked back through the library. "Your second Trial is approaching. Be exceptionally careful. If someone has been targeting members of House Godfrey, the Trials would be the perfect opportunity to strike." "I''ll keep my eyes open," Zeke promised. "Good. Oh, and regarding the Scribes of Steel," Adrian added in a lower voice, "there''s an old storage room in the east wing of Tower 3, fifth floor. It used to be their meeting place. Might be worth a look." Zeke nodded, his mind already racing with plans to visit the storage room at the first opportunity. As they approached the main area of the library, they found Ralph sitting at a table, surrounded by books on metalworking. He looked up as they approached. "There you are!" Ralph exclaimed. "I''ve been looking all over for you. Victoria''s been asking if you''re coming to afternoon training." "I''ll be there," Zeke assured him, then turned to Adrian. "Thank you for the... historical discussion. It was enlightening." "Any time," Adrian smiled. "And do let me know if you find any other interesting artifacts during your explorations." As Zeke and Ralph left the library, Ralph nudged him. "What was that all about? Secret librarian business?" "Something like that," Zeke replied, his hand closing around the medallion in his pocket. "Just learning about some old Academy history." "Boring," Ralph declared. "Anyway, you missed breakfast, and I heard Elise is looking for you too. Something about that weird blue light you saw in the woods." Zeke''s pulse quickened. "She found something?" "Don''t know, but she seemed excited," Ralph shrugged. "Said she''d be in the east courtyard after lunch." Zeke nodded, his mind whirling with all he''d learned. Adrian''s revelations about Artax, the Scribes of Steel, the Dragons of Calamity - it was all connected somehow. And now Elise might have discovered something about the strange light in the woods. The second Trial was coming, and Zeke now understood it wasn''t just a test of his abilities - it might be a test of his survival skills as well. Someone had tried to kill Artax during his Trials, and they might try the same with him. But unlike his brother, Zeke was forewarned. And he was determined not to fall into the same trap. As he walked through the castle halls, the medallion warm in his pocket, Zeke felt a strange mixture of fear and excitement. There were mysteries to be solved, dangers to face, and adventures to be had. Just like the heroes in the stories Artax used to tell him. With luck, he''d be able to see the signs of trouble before he wound up dead. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [Be Prepared: Get ready for the 2nd Trial] [Investigate: Find the Scribes of Steel meeting room] [Meet Elise: Discuss the strange blue light] 20. Midnight [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 1] [Date: October 25, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] Time continued to turn, and the empty halls seemed to grow ever more worrisome and dark. Zeke wasn''t the sort of person to jump at shadows, but he also wasn''t the sort of person to just ignore a threat, and what Adrian had told him was quite worrisome, indeed. Since learning about the possible threats against his family, Zeke had been spending his spare time exploring the castle, mapping out escape routes and hiding spots. He''d even begun carrying a small knife in his boot - just in case. Not that he was scared, exactly. More like... prepared. He''d also managed to sneak into the old Scribes of Steel meeting room that Adrian had mentioned. The door had been locked, but Zeke had picked up a thing or two from Ralph about getting into places he wasn''t supposed to be. The room had been mostly empty, just dusty shelves and tables, but he''d found an old tome hidden behind a loose stone in the wall. He hadn''t had time to examine it thoroughly yet, but he planned to take it to Adrian soon. Ralph was certainly no help with all the mysterious goings-on. Zeke flopped back on his bed, five days after the conversation with Adrian, as Ralph entered the room for the evening. "Oh, you have no idea what I just had to do," Ralph groaned and threw himself onto his own bed. "I just had to scrub all the desks in that classroom. Every. Single. One. Do you have any idea how much gunk there is underneath some of those desks? The bottom of the seats, under the lids... Bleh!" "I think I''ve seen you picking your nose in that class a few times," Zeke commented wryly. "Might you be one of the contributors?" "What? You have no-" Ralph snapped, then paused. "Wait. You''re not even in that class with me." Zeke just shrugged and laughed, and Ralph threw a pillow at him. They both sighed, when suddenly a knock came at the door. "Door''s open!" Zeke called out. A moment later, it popped open, and Elise poked her head inside. "Mind if I come in?" "Sure," Zeke shrugged. "It''s only half an hour until curfew, though. Wouldn''t want you to get stuck here." "Oh, I''m not staying," Elise shook her head. "I just wanted to invite you guys to come with me to something. There''s a cooking class happening over in Tower 6, and I thought you might find it fun." "A cooking class?" Ralph snorted. "Nah, count me out. I don''t need to be doing servant stuff." "Zeke?" She glanced over at Zeke, who frowned. "Ah, half an hour until curfew?" He asked, pointedly. "Oh, don''t worry about that," she shook her head, and held out a pass. "The professor in charge of it is giving out these things. They''ll protect you from the gargoyles. Professors have been handing them out left and right through the break." "Really?" Zeke frowned and took the pass from her. It clearly read: Good for the night of October 25th, and will protect the bearer from an untimely death at the hands of the Guard-goyles, provided that they are either on their way to the cooking class, or on the way back to their dorms, without making unnecessary detours or otherwise taking advantage of..." Ralph snatched the note out of his hand and read it quickly, then handed it back. "So what exactly do they not want us students doing at night? They really go out of their way to make sure we know that we can''t be out and about." "I can actually answer that," Elise shrugged. "A lot of black magic can only be accomplished at night. They used to not have a curfew at all, but students were doing all sorts of rituals and things. There was actually an incident where a budding necromancer accidentally summoned an army of skeletons that almost destroyed the castle. They started enforcing the curfew at 10:00, but some rituals can be done the moment that the sun goes down, so then they had to bump it back even more..." "So a few bad apples ruined it for all of us," Ralph scowled. "Something like that, yeah," Elise shrugged. "So, Zeke, you coming?" A cooking class wasn''t exactly what Zeke had planned for his evening. He''d been hoping to review some of the sword forms Victoria had taught him, or maybe take another look at that book he''d found. But there was something in Elise''s expression - a mixture of hope and nervousness - that made him reconsider. Besides, wandering the castle after dark with an official pass? That could be useful knowledge for later. "Sure!" Zeke grinned, hopping off his bed. "Let''s give it a whirl." Elise smiled, clearly relieved, and the two of them left the room and started down the stairs. All around them, a handful of people started trickling back into their rooms, not wanting to get caught outside. Then, as curfew hit, and they strode through the main halls of the Academy, Zeke heard a rumble as the very stones came to life. All around them, windows swung open, and gargoyles slowly climbed inside. They were huge and hulking, just like before, and several of them turned to look at the two students. Instantly, they spread their wings and stalked toward the two, growling and snarling. "Stop!" "We have a pass!" Zeke whipped out his pass and held it out. It flared with protective magic, and the gargoyles grumbled and came to a stop. "Hrumph. No tasty students tonight." "Come on," another one grunted. "Check gardens. Almost caught one there, last night." The gargoyles huffed and walked off, and Zeke felt a sign of relief. Elise beamed, and they struck off down the hall once more. Here and there, they had to stop to show off their pass, but they soon enough came to Tower 6, and made their way up to the immense kitchen that served as one of the culinary classrooms. "This is amazing," Zeke whispered to Elise as they entered. "I''ve never actually seen the castle kitchens before." "You''ve never been in a kitchen?" Elise asked, sounding shocked. "Well, not to cook anything," Zeke admitted. "Just to steal cookies when the cook wasn''t looking." Elise laughed. "Sounds about right for a noble." The room was really quite impressive. It was huge, with over a dozen ovens already heated and crackling. A workstation stood next to each one, while a professor at the front of the room turned to look at them entering. "Ah, welcome! Looks like you made it past the gargoyles?" The woman was younger, and had vibrant hair that gleamed in the light. Zeke wondered if she was another upper-level student, putting on a class for whatever her field of study happened to be. "They''re so creepy, I think." Zeke frowned and glanced over at Elise. He wondered if, perhaps, part of the reason that the class had been scheduled at night was simply to give all the students a bit of a taste of what they would be looking at if, indeed, they tried to slip out at night. Curiosity could be a powerful thing, and letting people see the gargoyles up close would likely prove to be quite the deterrent. "Yup, we made it!" Zeke nodded. He glanced around, and found two other students standing at another workstation. "What''s this here class going to look like?" "If you don''t mind, I''m going to wait for just a few more minutes to see if anyone else shows up," the woman smiled. "Then we''ll get down to business!" While they waited, Zeke examined the kitchen equipment with curiosity. He''d never paid much attention to how food was prepared - it just appeared when he was hungry. But now, looking at all the tools and ingredients, he felt a strange sense of excitement. This was something entirely new to learn. "Have you ever made bread before?" he asked Elise. "Of course," she replied. "Back home, we baked fresh bread every other day. My mother taught me when I was just six years old." "Well, I''ve never made anything more complicated than a mud pie," Zeke admitted with a grin. "So don''t laugh too hard when I mess this up." "Don''t worry," Elise smiled. "I''ll help you." Zeke wasn''t sure if anyone else was going to show up, but within ten minutes, the room was packed. He and Elise managed to snag a workstation close to the front of the room, but by the time everyone was there, there were no more desks available. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. The professor seemed surprised, but nonplussed. "Alright! This is great!" She clapped her hands. "Welcome to this meeting, I hope you''re all feeling great tonight. My name is Ericka de''Burgson, and I''m here to talk to you about the joys of cooking. Most nobles see it as little more than a servant''s task, but it''s really much more than that." She launched into a brief introduction, which Zeke frankly thought was rather unnecessary, given that everyone had already showed up and obviously didn''t need to be convinced. Finally, she shrugged. "Alright! For this first class, we''re going to be baking bread. Those of you at a workstation will go first, and then anyone who doesn''t have one will fill in as stations become available. Assuming that there''s a demand for it, we''ll meet in a larger room, next time," she clapped her hands in what seemed to Zeke to be slight over-excitement, then gestured at their tables. "Inside the cabinets underneath your cabinets, you''ll find some ingredients, bowls, and utensils. Start pulling them all out, and set them up like I have them up here!" Zeke nodded and followed along as best he could. Elise was able to quickly take everything out, she seemed to have a much better idea of how to set up a kitchen than he did. Which, all things considered, made sense, since she had grown up as a commoner. "So what goes first?" Zeke asked, looking at the array of ingredients. "We''ll start with the starter," Elise explained, reaching for a small container. "It''s a mixture of flour and water that''s been fermenting. That''s what makes the bread rise and gives it flavor." "It smells... interesting," Zeke commented, wrinkling his nose at the sour scent. "Wait until you taste the finished bread," Elise promised. "It''s worth it." In any case, they soon started in, mixing a bit of a gloppy paste (the "starter") with some water and sugar, and then adding some salt and flour. When it was all said and done, they had a rather lumpy blob of dough, which Zeke began to knead over and over and over. "You''re really going to want to work at it!" Ericka called out. "Actually, everyone who''s kneading, why don''t you move away from your workstations, and let the people who haven''t had a chance yet take a go?" Zeke nodded, and moved the bowl to the middle of the classroom. There were a few tables there, which were small enough that they wouldn''t have worked to actually make the bread, but which worked well enough for just kneading. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he drew in a deep breath. "Tiring already?" Elise taunted him. "My mother used to be able to bake six loaves of bread a day." "Really?" Zeke grinned, accepting the challenge. "Well, just watch this." He attacked the dough with renewed vigor, pushing and folding it with determination. His arms started to burn after a few minutes, but he wasn''t about to give up. This might just be bread dough, but it was also a test of endurance - something he''d been working on every day with Victoria. After about five minutes of intense kneading, though, even Zeke had to admit the task was more tiring than he''d expected. Without missing a beat in his rhythm, he whispered under his breath, "Activate Endurance." ¡¸?????????????????? ???????????? ??????????????????¡¹ ¡¾A soft golden glow spreads through your muscles¡¿ ¡¾Physical stamina increased by 40%¡¿ ¡¾Duration: 1 hour¡¿ A warm energy flowed through his arms, easing the burn without removing it completely. Zeke continued kneading with a satisfied smile. Elise laughed and sat down. "Did you really just activate an Emblem to help you knead bread?" "A knight uses every tool at his disposal," Zeke replied with mock seriousness. "Even against fearsome dough monsters." "You''re ridiculous," Elise said, but she was smiling. Zeke continued working the dough, finding a certain satisfaction in the rhythmic motion. It was tedious work, but there was something almost meditative about it. He was quite surprised by the time that Ericka finally walked over and told him that it was good to go. "Perfect!" She nodded. "Now, just let it sit there for a little bit. We''ll need to let it rise for about an hour." "How about a minute?" Elise asked. "Well..." Elise snapped her fingers, and the lump of dough began to grow in front of Zeke''s eyes. His jaw dropped, and Erika blinked in surprise. "You... ah... you can control time?" "Only when baking things," Elise muttered. Sweat broke out on her forehead. The minute passed slowly, and when it was done, the loaf had more than doubled in size. Erika shrugged, and nodded. "Alright, then. Knead it again, then shape it and get it into the oven." She walked on, and Zeke turned to Elise with wide eyes. "That was amazing! Why didn''t you tell me you could do that?" "It''s not exactly an impressive magic," Elise said with a self-conscious shrug. "Most of the mages here can shoot fireballs or levitate objects. I can make bread rise faster." "Are you kidding? That''s incredible!" Zeke insisted. "Think about it - in a siege, when food is scarce, you could help feed an entire castle. That''s not just impressive, it''s life-saving." Elise looked at him with surprise, then smiled. "I never thought about it like that." Zeke started kneading the dough again, releasing a small from the dough that was equally sour and disgusting, as well as actually quite pleasant. When he had finished, Elise had brought over a baking pan, and he handed the dough off to her. With expert hands, she tore the dough into strips, rolled it out into long strands, braided it together, and then lay it across the baking pan carefully. "Want to try a bit of braiding?" she asked, setting aside a portion of the dough. "Sure," Zeke said, watching carefully as she demonstrated. His first attempt was clumsy, the strands uneven and the braid loose, but Elise nodded encouragingly. "Not bad for a first try," she said. "Here, like this." She guided his hands, showing him how to roll the dough evenly and braid it tightly. With her help, his second attempt looked much better. "You''re a natural," she said, placing both braids on the baking pan. A moment later, it was in the oven, and she sat back down next to him. "Twenty minutes, and we''ll have freshly-baked bread for the taking." Zeke whistled and shook his head. "How''d you do that? The speeding up the rise time?" "It was one of the random things that I was able to do which convinced me to seek admission into the academy. I learned, naturally, to speed up the speed at which dough rises, or I could will plants to grow faster, that sort of thing. I also learned to disguise myself, which is..." she lowered her voice. "How I was able to hide us from the gargoyles. Most other students my age can''t even begin to do stuff like that." "Interesting," Zeke frowned. "And you don''t know how you do it?" "That pretty much sums it up," she answered. "Ask a pianist how they play the piano, and they won''t be able to give you an answer, because they just do it. I''m terrible when it comes to magical theory and things, and I''m not all that great at learning new spells, but I''m pretty decent at the few things that I do know how to do, simply because I learned how to do them back when I was learning how to do everything." "Huh," Zeke scratched the back of his neck. "Good to know." While they waited for the bread to bake, Zeke found himself enjoying the atmosphere of the kitchen. The warm air, the rich smells, the hum of conversation - it was nothing like the austere training grounds or the hushed library. There was something homey about it that reminded him of evenings spent in House Godfrey''s great hall when he was very young, before he understood what it meant to be a noble. "You know, I never thought I''d enjoy something like this," he admitted to Elise. "Baking bread seems so... ordinary." "Sometimes ordinary things are the most satisfying," Elise replied. "Back home, the best part of the day was often sitting down to a meal we''d all helped prepare. No fancy servants, no protocols - just good food with family." Zeke nodded thoughtfully. His childhood had been very different, filled with lessons and expectations, always with servants hovering nearby. Even meals had been formal affairs, with his father lecturing them on duty and honor between courses. Only his adventures with Artax had given him any taste of normalcy - sneaking out to fish in the river or exploring the forest beyond their estate. Those had been his happiest memories. The bread soon came out of the oven, and Elise cut off a section of it for him. The aroma was intoxicating, rich and yeasty. Zeke took a bite and nearly groaned aloud. It tasted beyond amazing, warm and chewy with a complex, tangy flavor he''d never experienced in the fine white bread served at noble tables. "This is incredible," he said, taking another bite. "I can''t believe we made this." "See? Ordinary magic," Elise said, smiling as she enjoyed her own piece. Several other students cast envious looks in their direction, and he winced in sympathy. The simple pleasure of eating something he''d made with his own hands was surprisingly powerful. "Well, I''d say that the two of you had a productive night," Ericka walked over to them, regarding the loaf of bread with some admiration. "You''re a commoner?" She addressed Elise. "Is that a problem?" Elise suddenly seemed to shrink back. "No, not at all! I''m currently studying food theory as a minor, and I''d honestly love to pick your brain over some of these techniques," she answered. "Will you be back for the next class?" "Next class?" Zeke turned to look at her. "Yeah..." Elise winced. "I... I maybe should have told you that this is actually a cooking club." Zeke laughed and shook his head, and Elise shrugged. "Yes, I''ll be back, at least." "Great! I''ll see you then." Ericka moved on, and Elise shrugged and climbed to her feet. Zeke followed, carefully wrapping the remaining bread in a cloth to take back to the dorm. Ralph might make fun of him for baking, but he''d bet his roommate would change his tune once he tasted this. They quickly walked out into the hall. There, Elise paused, then sighed. "Well... We have different routes back to our dorms, and these passes will only protect us as long as we''re walking along that route." "We can stand here and talk for a bit," Zeke suggested. "Yeah!" Elise brightened. "That''s true." "So..." Zeke raised an eyebrow. "You''re trying to get me to join a cooking class." "Not trying to get you to join. Trying to get you to see the beauty in cooking things," she sighed. "I don''t know. When I heard about it... It just seemed like a good chance to rekindle some of the love of the fire and of the earth that I had, back when I was living on the farm. I love this Academy, don''t get me wrong, but I''ll always pine for home, you know?" "Yeah, I know," Zeke flashed a small smile at her. "So this really means a lot to you, then?" "It does," she nodded. "It''s one of the few places here where I don''t feel... out of place. Where being a commoner is actually an advantage." Zeke thought about that for a moment. He''d never considered how difficult it must be for Elise, surrounded by nobles who had grown up with every advantage. For him, struggling to catch up in combat and aura control was challenging, but at least he understood the social rules. For her, every day must be a navigation through unfamiliar territory. "Then count me in," Zeke decided with a grin. "I''d love to do it with you, if it really means that much. Besides, this bread is amazing. I want to learn what else we can make." "Really?" Elise''s face lit up. "You''re not worried about what the other nobles will think? Ralph seemed pretty clear about it being ''servant stuff.''" "Ralph''s an idiot sometimes," Zeke said with a laugh. "And I don''t care what anyone thinks. If they want to mock me for learning a useful skill, that''s their loss. They''ll change their tune when they''re hungry and I''m the only one who can make food." "Great!" she beamed. "They haven''t set a date for the next class, they wanted to see just how many people would be interested, but... I''ll let you know!" "Looking forward to it," Zeke said. He hesitated, then added, "And Elise? Thanks for inviting me. I had more fun than I expected." Her smile grew even brighter. "Me too." With a wave, she turned and scampered off down the corridor. Zeke watched her go, then started back down through the halls toward the dorms, carefully showing his pass to each gargoyle he encountered. Cooking was something that he had absolutely no experience with, whatsoever. He had always had servants to take care of it wherever he had been. The closest he had ever come was setting out a picnic to entertain women, but even then, it had mostly been done by the servants. But tonight had been different. There was something deeply satisfying about creating something with his own hands - something that wasn''t about combat or aura control or noble politics. Just simple, honest work that resulted in something delicious. Zeke, the baker. His father would probably raise an eyebrow, and the other nobles might snicker. But Artax would understand. His brother had always appreciated the simple things in life, the experiences that connected people rather than divided them by rank. As he made his way back to his room, bread tucked carefully under his arm, Zeke felt a lightness in his spirit that had been missing since his conversation with Adrian. Yes, there might be threats lurking in the shadows. Yes, the second Trial was approaching. But tonight had been a reminder that not everything had to be about danger and duty. Sometimes, the most rewarding challenges were the ones you never expected. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [Be Prepared: Get ready for the 2nd Trial] [Cooking Up a Storm: Touch up on Cooking Skills] 21. Second Trial [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 1] [Date: October 29, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] The next few days passed in a blur of preparation. Zeke spent every spare moment in the training yard, practicing with different weapons and working on his aura control. Each morning he rose before dawn, slipping out to run laps around the inner courtyard while most students still slept. Each evening he collapsed into bed with aching muscles, only to start again the next day. "You''re going to wear yourself out before the trial even begins," Ralph commented one night, watching Zeke practice sword forms in their room. "Better tired than unprepared," Zeke replied, executing a perfect thrust-parry-slash combination that Victoria had taught him. The wooden practice sword whistled through the air. On the night before the trial, just as Zeke was settling into bed, a golden envelope slipped silently under their door. No messenger, no footsteps in the hall - just the silent arrival of a letter bearing the wax seal of the Academy. "What''s that?" Ralph asked, looking up from the throwing star he''d been polishing. Zeke picked up the envelope, noting its weight and the quality of the paper. "Must be about the next Trial." He broke the seal and unfolded the parchment inside. The message was brief, written in flowing script: "You are invited to the Dueling Arena for your next Trial. It will begin at 9:00 sharp. Headmistress Florence." Ralph bounded across the room, peering over Zeke''s shoulder. "Well? What''s it say? Do you know what the Trial is going to be?" "Dueling Arena tomorrow at nine," Zeke said, turning the note over to see if there was anything else. "The Headmistress mentioned something about a sparring match when I talked to her, but I can''t imagine a Trial would be that simple." "Nothing''s ever simple at Leoncrest," Ralph flopped back on his bed, tossing his throwing star toward the ceiling. It stuck with a soft thunk. "Remember when Professor Harkin said we''d have a ''simple'' exercise in basic alchemy? Jensen''s eyebrows still haven''t grown back." Zeke laughed, tucking the letter into his desk drawer. "True enough." "Want me to come watch tomorrow?" Ralph asked, pulling the star free and spinning it on his finger. "I could skip Professor Merton''s lecture. Not like I understand half of what he says anyway." "Better not," Zeke replied. "No sense both of us getting in trouble. Besides, if I fail, I wouldn''t want an audience." "You won''t fail," Ralph said with surprising seriousness. "You''ve been working harder than anyone I''ve ever seen." "Hope you''re right," Zeke said, blowing out the candle beside his bed. "Well, I''d better get some sleep. Big day tomorrow." "G''night then," Ralph yawned. "Try not to worry too much." He was asleep before his head fully settled on the pillow, leaving Zeke alone with his thoughts in the darkened room. Sleep didn''t come easy. His mind kept racing through all the weapons training he''d done with Victoria over the past weeks, wondering what challenges awaited him. Would it be a one-on-one duel? A test of accuracy with ranged weapons? Perhaps some bizarre Leoncrest twist, like fighting blindfolded or with one hand tied behind his back? There was no way to know until he faced it. Eventually, he drifted into an uneasy sleep, dreaming of swords that turned to snakes in his hands and armored opponents whose faces kept changing. Morning arrived with the tolling of the Academy bell. Zeke was already awake, staring at the ceiling beams. He''d been up since before dawn, mentally rehearsing what Victoria had taught him about each weapon. He rose quietly, careful not to wake Ralph, and splashed cold water on his face from the basin. The shock helped clear the fog of restless sleep. He strapped on his lightest training gear - no sense weighing himself down with heavy armor that might restrict his movement. His stomach growled, but he ignored it. Better to fight hungry than sluggish from a heavy meal. The halls were unusually quiet as he made his way toward the Dueling Arena. Most students would be in their morning classes, unaware that his future at Leoncrest hung in the balance today. A few early risers nodded to him as he passed, but no one stopped him to chat. The stillness was almost eerie. Zeke could hear his own footsteps echoing off the stone walls, could feel his heartbeat quickening with each step closer to the arena. Not from fear, he told himself. From anticipation. As he rounded a corner near the western quadrant, Victoria appeared from a side corridor, holding a small wooden plate of dried fruits, nuts, and a chunk of hard cheese. "Thought you might need some fuel," she said, falling into step beside him. "Can''t fight on an empty stomach." "Always looking out for me," Zeke grinned, grabbing a handful of nuts. The salt and protein were exactly what he needed. "Thanks." Victoria wore her practice gear - black and crimson leathers that matched her fiery red hair. She''d pulled it back in a tight braid today, a style Zeke had learned meant she was expecting serious business. "You''re going to crush this today," she said with unwavering confidence. "All that training is about to pay off." "It better," Zeke laughed, popping another nut into his mouth. "Or this is the last time you''ll see me in these halls." "Don''t even joke about that," Victoria nudged his shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. "You''re not going anywhere except through those doors to victory." They continued down the corridor, Victoria quizzing him on proper sword grips and the balance points of different weapons as they walked. It was her way of keeping his mind focused, preventing pre-fight jitters from setting in. "Remember what I told you about polearms," she said as they descended a wide staircase. "The key is¡ª" "Control the distance," Zeke finished for her. "Keep them at the end of your reach, never let them inside your guard." "And with a mace?" "Commit to each swing. The power is in the follow-through." Victoria nodded approvingly. "See? You''ve got this." They soon reached the Dueling Arena, located in the southwest corner of the castle grounds. Unlike most of Leoncrest''s towers and halls, which soared upward in elegant spires, the arena was a wide, squat building of dark stone. Ancient banners hung from its walls, faded with age but still bearing the crests of noble houses who had sponsored its construction centuries ago. Zeke pushed open the heavy oak doors, which swung inward with surprising ease. He whistled in appreciation at what lay beyond. The space was massive - a vast indoor room with tiered seating surrounding a central fighting area large enough for tournaments or group melees. Despite having no windows on its exterior walls, the room was bathed in natural light. An elaborate system of mirrors and skylights channeled sunshine down from openings in the ceiling, creating a bright but shadowless illumination perfect for combat. ¡¸?????????????? ??????????¡¹ ¡¾Location of legendary contests¡¿ ¡¾First constructed: 312 years ago¡¿ ¡¾Renovated: 5 times¡¿ ¡¾Notable duel: The Clash of Seven Houses, 174 FE¡¿ The arena floor was covered in fine white sand that would provide good footing while cushioning falls. Dark stains in some areas suggested that not all of those falls had ended without bloodshed. Zeke''s eyes were immediately drawn to a large weapons rack along one wall. Dozens of swords of various lengths and styles, spears, maces, halberds, shields, bows, and several weapons he couldn''t even name. Each was polished to a mirror shine, with dangerous edges. In the center of the arena stood a knight in polished black armor, idly twirling a longsword with practiced ease. The figure''s face was completely hidden behind a full helmet crafted to resemble a skull, giving no clue to their identity. Sunlight reflected off the obsidian plates, making them seem to shift and move like liquid shadow. "That''s some impressive armor," Zeke murmured to Victoria. "Never seen anything like it." "House Minziar forges," Victoria replied quietly. "The black is from a special quenching process. They say it takes three master smiths working in tandem to create a single set." As they approached the edge of the arena, Headmistress Florence materialized from the shadows beneath the tiered seating. Her crimson and gold robes seemed to catch the light differently than everything else in the room, creating an unsettling effect. She swept between Zeke and the arena with surprising speed. "I''m sorry, but there can be no contact between the contestant and the knight before the Trial begins," she stated firmly, her thin lips pressed into an even thinner line. "No problem," Zeke held up his hands in a peaceful gesture. "I wasn''t planning anything. I just wanted to get the details about what I''ll be doing." "Certainly," Headmistress Florence replied, her voice cool. "The task is quite simple, though extremely difficult. You will enter the ring and choose a weapon from the rack. You will then duel the knight, who has been provided by the royal garrison in the Capital. He will test your proficiency with the chosen weapon and determine whether you pass or fail. You must prove yourself proficient in five different weapons to complete the Trial." "Five different weapons?" Victoria''s jaw dropped. "That''s insane! Most first-years barely master one, let alone five!" "These Trials are not intended for the faint of heart or the merely adequate," the Headmistress turned to Zeke with a pointed look. "If you don''t feel up to the challenge, of course..." The unspoken invitation to withdraw hung in the air between them. Zeke could almost taste her desire to see him quit, to admit defeat before he''d even begun. "I''m ready," he said firmly, meeting her gaze without flinching. The challenge was daunting, but he wasn''t about to back down now. "Let''s do this." "Of course," she said, something flickering behind her eyes - disappointment, perhaps? "We will begin in three hours'' time. You may use that period to prepare, if you wish." She turned and glided away toward a small door at the far end of the arena, her robes making no sound as she moved. Zeke exhaled slowly, then exchanged glances with Victoria. She still looked shocked, but quickly regained her composure. "Three hours gives us time," she said decisively. "That knight isn''t going to go easy on you. Anyone hand-picked for this won''t pull punches." "I wouldn''t want them to," Zeke replied, rolling his shoulders. He''d rather face a real challenge than be coddled. "A pass means nothing if it''s just handed to me." "That''s the spirit," Victoria nodded approvingly. "Alright, let''s make a plan. Those weapons look standard, but we should check what''s available. I wonder if we can test them beforehand?" "Probably best not to push our luck," Zeke said, eyeing the Headmistress''s retreating form. "Just looking at what''s available should be enough." If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "Where''s Elise?" Victoria asked suddenly, scanning the empty seats. "I asked her to meet us here." As if summoned by her name, the door behind them swung open and Elise hurried in, slightly out of breath and carrying a large cloth bag. "Sorry I''m late," she panted, dropping the bag at their feet. "Getting these wasn''t easy." Victoria quickly explained the Trial''s requirements as Elise caught her breath. "Five weapons? That''s..." Elise trailed off, looking at Zeke with concern. "A challenge," Zeke finished for her with a confident grin. "But nothing we can''t handle." "That''s the attitude," Victoria nodded approvingly. She turned to Elise. "Did you get everything I asked for?" "Most of it," Elise replied, opening the bag to reveal a collection of training weapons - wooden swords, a staff standing in for a spear, a wooden mace, and several other practice implements. "Professor Harkin caught me trying to take the bow, though." "This is perfect," Victoria said. "Let''s find a place to work. We''ve got three hours to prepare for five weapons." They located a small antechamber off the main arena floor - likely a preparation room for duelists in tournaments. For the next three hours, Victoria proved to be a demanding teacher, drilling Zeke on proper grips, stances, and basic strikes for every weapon in Elise''s bag. The wooden sword was familiar territory - they''d trained with it extensively over the past weeks. Victoria focused instead on helping him identify the strengths and weaknesses of the other weapons. "The key is understanding the purpose of each weapon," she explained while demonstrating a proper spear grip. "A spear gives you reach - keep your opponent at a distance and use quick thrusts. Never let them inside your guard." She moved to a mace. "This is about raw power, not speed. Let the weight do the work. Use your whole body weight to add force to each swing. Remember - one good hit is worth more than ten misses." Elise stepped in to help with the staff, which could stand in for several polearms. "My father taught me some staff techniques for defending our farm," she explained. "It''s all about control and leverage, not strength." The bow seemed simplest until Victoria laughed at his confidence. "Shooting at a stationary target is nothing like a duel," she warned. "An opponent won''t stand still while you draw your arrow. You''ll need to get creative." "What about the buckler?" Elise asked, holding up a small round shield she''d included in her collection. Victoria considered it. "Defensive only, usually paired with a short sword. But..." "But what?" Zeke asked, taking the small shield and testing its weight. A sly smile crossed Victoria''s face. "Well, your particular... talent... with projectiles might be useful there. Remember your aura infusion class?" Zeke laughed, recalling the chaos he''d caused. "Hard to forget." "Maybe worth keeping in mind," Victoria said. "As a last resort." By the end of their improvised training session, Zeke had basic familiarity with seven different weapons. His arms ached and sweat soaked his tunic, but he felt more prepared than he had any right to be given the circumstances. "Time''s up, Godfrey!" Headmistress Florence called from the doorway, her voice cutting through their conversation. "Your Trial begins now." Zeke took a deep breath and caught Victoria''s eye. She gave him a firm nod. "Remember," she said. "Play to your strengths. And if all else fails, get creative." Elise squeezed his arm. "You''ve got this." Zeke strode into the arena, feeling the eyes of his friends on his back. The sand crunched beneath his boots as he walked. He glanced up at the tiered seating and noticed a few figures had appeared - faculty members there to observe, probably. None of the seats reserved for students were filled. This was not meant to be a public spectacle. He climbed over the low railing separating the seating area from the fighting floor and approached the center. The black knight turned to face him, armor without a single visible seam or joint. The mystery warrior said nothing, simply drawing a longsword with a fluid motion and assuming a ready stance. "The duration of this fight will depend entirely upon the testing knight!" Headmistress Florence announced from the sidelines, her voice carrying easily in the arena''s perfect acoustics. "If Zeke fails with any particular weapon, he cannot try again with that same weapon, but may attempt another. You must succeed with five out of the twenty available weapons to complete this Trial. Any questions?" Zeke shook his head, studying his opponent carefully. The knight''s posture revealed nothing - no favored side, no obvious weaknesses. Just perfect balance and poise that spoke of years of dedicated training. "In that case, begin!" Zeke strode confidently to the weapons rack. Starting with what he knew best made sense. He selected a sword similar in size and weight to his training blade - not too heavy, with a simple crossguard and straight double-edged blade. The grip fit his hand comfortably, and he gave it a few experimental swings as he returned to the center of the arena. The black knight raised his own sword in acknowledgement. For a long moment, they stood watching each other, measuring, calculating... Then the knight moved. Zeke had never seen anyone so fast. The black blade became a blur, slicing through the air toward his head. Pure instinct took over, his body reacting before his mind could process the attack. His sword rose to block - once, twice, three times in rapid succession. The sound of steel on steel rang out in sharp, clear notes that echoed through the arena. The knight suddenly stopped and stepped back, lowering his weapon. "What?" Headmistress Florence blinked in surprise from the sidelines. "So quick?" "In the real world, fights are decided in the blink of an eye," the knight replied, voice muffled but distinctly male behind his helmet. "Very few first-year students could have blocked that attack sequence. If I hadn''t known he only began training recently, I would consider him one of the most skilled swordsmen of his class." "But to truly test¡ª" the Headmistress began, her voice rising with indignation. "I was chosen for my expert opinion," the knight interrupted sharply. "I command the highest-rated unit in the entire Capital. I know what makes a knight a knight. What you just saw is how I test anyone who would enter my ranks. That much, and no more. Now, if you wish to release me from this service, do so. Otherwise, respect my judgment." The Headmistress nodded stiffly, her lips pressed into a bloodless line. The knight turned back to Zeke. "The point of this test is to evaluate you, not wear you out," he stated matter-of-factly. "It will not be an endurance test, but you will have no second chances. Choose your next weapon." One down, four to go. Zeke returned the sword to the rack, feeling a surge of confidence. The first pass had been easier than expected, but he knew better than to get cocky. He scanned his options for the next attempt. The spear had seemed easiest of the unfamiliar weapons during his brief training. He selected a long ash shaft tipped with steel and returned to the center. The weapon was lighter than he expected, perfectly balanced for quick thrusts and parries. The knight studied his stance for a moment, then attacked with blinding speed. Zeke rotated the spear to block, but the knight simply slapped the weapon aside and brought the blade to a stop an inch from Zeke''s neck. "And you''re dead," the knight stated flatly. "Fail." Zeke nodded, accepting the judgment without complaint. One success, one failure. He returned the spear to the rack and surveyed his options again, his mind racing. Victoria had warned him that spears were difficult in one-on-one duels against experienced swordsmen. He should have chosen something with more versatility. The mace caught his eye - a flanged metal head on a sturdy wooden handle. Victoria had emphasized that its raw power could force even skilled opponents to give ground. He lifted it, testing its weight, then walked back to face the knight. This time, Zeke positioned himself exactly as Victoria had shown him, holding the mace slightly above his shoulder, weight balanced on the balls of his feet. The knight gave a small nod of recognition. After a brief pause, the black warrior charged straight ahead. Zeke swung the mace in a powerful arc, the heavy metal head whistling through the air. The knight halted his advance, unwilling to test his blade against the crushing force of the mace. Taking advantage of the moment, Zeke stepped back then lunged forward, using the momentum of the heavy weapon to drive toward his opponent. The knight avoided the attack with a backward step, then nodded. "Pass." "Pass?" Headmistress Florence objected from the sidelines. "He looked completely awkward out there!" "As would anyone wielding a mace against a swordsman," the knight replied sharply. "It''s a weapon for jailers and barbarians, a last resort when all else fails. He made me retreat twice because he recognized the danger of blocking such a blow directly. He showed proper technique for the weapon''s purpose. Pass." Two successes, one failure. Zeke was feeling more confident as he returned the mace and considered his next choice. The bow and quiver of arrows seemed promising - Victoria had given him a clever strategy for dueling with it. He took position in the center, nocking an arrow but keeping the bow relaxed. The knight tensed visibly, preparing to charge the moment Zeke drew back the string. Zeke made a show of beginning to draw the bow. As expected, the knight immediately rushed forward. Instead of completing the draw, Zeke released the string and swung the bow like a club. The sudden change in tactics caused the knight to hesitate for just an instant. In that moment, Zeke lunged forward, wielding the arrow in his other hand like a dagger. The knight caught his wrist before the strike could land, easily disarming him of the arrow, but then laughed. "Pass!" Three successes, one failure. Only two more to go. Zeke''s spirits lifted as he returned to choose his fourth weapon, feeling Victoria and Elise''s eyes on him from the sidelines. The rapier seemed promising - a slender, elegant blade designed for precision thrusts. But its techniques proved too different from what he''d learned. The knight disarmed him in seconds - a clear fail. Next came a curved scimitar. This too resulted in quick defeat, the unfamiliar balance throwing off Zeke''s timing. Zeke tried the cat-o''-nine-tails next, more out of curiosity than confidence. The multi-tailed whip tangled around his own arm rather than striking his opponent, causing several spectators to chuckle. "Perhaps this will be over even quicker than I imagined," Headmistress Florence commented from the sidelines, her voice dripping with satisfaction. Three successes, four failures. The pressure was mounting. Zeke wiped sweat from his brow and turned back to the weapon rack, his confidence wavering. He needed to think carefully about his next choice. A heavy war hammer caught his eye - a metal head with a spike on one side and a flat crushing surface on the other. He hadn''t practiced with it specifically, but reasoned it might function similarly to the mace. He hefted it and returned to the center. His attack was clumsy - the hammer was heavier and more unwieldy than he''d anticipated - but he managed to use it to control the space between himself and the knight, forcing his opponent to respect the weapon''s crushing power. "Pass," the knight declared, to Zeke''s surprise. Four successes, four failures. One more to go, but Zeke was running out of weapons he had any idea how to use. If he failed again, that would be the end of his time at Leoncrest. Everything he''d worked for, his promise to Artax, his family''s honor - all of it hung on this final choice. The knight twirled his sword impatiently in the center of the arena. Zeke scanned the remaining weapons, searching for something, anything that might give him a chance. Then his eyes fell on a small item tucked between larger weapons - a round metal buckler, its surface polished to a mirror shine. Victoria''s words echoed in his mind: "Your particular talent with projectiles might be useful..." A smile spread across his face as inspiration struck. He reached for the small shield and lifted it down. It weighed about five pounds - perfect for what he had in mind. Headmistress Florence raised an eyebrow. "That was intended as a companion to the weapons, not a weapon itself." "Are you going to let me try?" Zeke asked, meeting her gaze steadily. The Headmistress sighed. "Very well. If you wishto humiliate yourself, who am I to stop you?" Zeke nodded and walked confidently to the center. He could hear whispers from the few spectators, could feel Victoria and Elise holding their breath. He held the buckler in front of him as if preparing to use it defensively. The knight raised his sword, giving a small, almost respectful nod - one professional acknowledging another''s attempt. As the knight charged, Zeke channeled his aura into the buckler - the same technique that had sent crystal spheres flying across classrooms all semester. He focused on building pressure, compressing the energy into a tight coil within the metal. BLAM! The buckler launched from his hand like a cannonball, the compressed aura releasing all at once. It streaked across the arena and smashed directly into the knight''s helmet with a resounding crash that echoed through the entire hall. The impact sent the black-armored figure flying backward to crash onto the arena floor in a clatter of metal. The dented helmet rolled away, revealing the face of a fair-haired man with clear blue eyes. A collective gasp rose from the spectators. Concerned he might have actually injured his opponent, Zeke rushed forward. His left arm hung limp at his side, slightly numb from the backlash of his aura technique, but that was a minor concern compared to potentially hurting the knight. As Zeke knelt beside him, the man''s left hand shot out, gripping Zeke''s arm with surprising strength and pulling him close. "My name is Constantine," he whispered urgently, his breath smelling of blood. "I knew your brother. What happened to him was no accident. Do not let it happen to yourself too. Beware the Court." With that cryptic warning, he shoved Zeke away, rose to his feet, and spat out a mouthful of blood onto the white sand. Headmistress Florence stood, her face darkening with anger. "Now, if that isn''t one of the worst displays of sportsmanship I have ever seen!" she declared, her voice ringing through the arena. "Zeke de''Godfrey, you are hereby¡ª" "PASS!" Constantine roared, cutting her off. The room fell silent as he spat another mouthful of blood onto the arena floor. "Name one other student who could weaponize a buckler like that. If I don''t return to my command post and immediately start training each of my soldiers to do the same, I''ve lost my mind. It was an incredible move - the sort of ingenuity only the greatest warriors possess. Pass." He stalked over, picked up his helmet and held it high to display the massive dent for all to see. Without another word, he hopped over the ropes and stormed out of the arena, blood still dripping from his mouth. The Headmistress stared after him, her expression unreadable but her knuckles white where she gripped the railing. After a long moment, she turned on her heel and swept away without acknowledging Zeke''s success. Zeke climbed out of the ring to find Victoria and Elise rushing forward to congratulate him. "That was incredible!" Elise exclaimed, eyes wide with admiration. "The way you launched that buckler - I''ve never seen anything like it!" "Unorthodox but effective," Victoria said with a proud smile. "Exactly what I''d expect from you." She examined his limp arm with a practiced eye. "That''s going to be sore tomorrow. The backlash from channeling that much aura needs control." "Worth it," Zeke grinned, flexing his fingers to get feeling back. "Five passes. I did it." "Never doubted you for a second," Victoria said, though the relief in her eyes suggested otherwise. As they made their way out of the arena, Elise lowered her voice. "The Headmistress really doesn''t like you. Did you see her face?" "No," Zeke admitted. "I was a bit preoccupied with the knight trying to skewer me." "She looked ready to explode when Constantine passed you on that last test," Elise said. "I think she was counting on you failing." "I''ll need to pay her a visit soon," Zeke said thoughtfully. "Whatever the Third Trial is, I should get details as early as possible if I want any chance of fair treatment." "Visit Adrian first," Elise suggested. "He can give you information she might try to withhold." "Good idea," Zeke nodded gratefully. "Thanks, both of you. I couldn''t have done this without your help." As they crossed the courtyard back toward the main castle, Zeke''s mind kept returning to Constantine''s warning. The Court? What could that mean? And what did he know about Artax''s injury? Questions for another time. For now, he''d celebrate this victory. He''d passed the Second Trial - something even his legendary brother had struggled with, according to the Headmistress. One more down, thirty-two to go. The path ahead would be difficult, but for the first time since arriving at Leoncrest, Zeke truly believed he could make it through all thirty-four Trials. After all, if he could turn a simple buckler into a weapon powerful enough to knock a seasoned knight off his feet, what couldn''t he do? As they reached the main hall, Victoria gave him a playful punch on his good shoulder. "So, buckler-thrower, ready for some lunch? You''ve earned it." "Starving," Zeke admitted with a grin. "Lead the way." Together, they headed toward the dining hall, his steps lighter than they''d been in weeks. Whatever challenges the remaining Trials might bring, he''d face them head-on - with a little help from his friends, and maybe a few more creative solutions along the way. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [The Devil You Know: Speak with Adrian about the Third Trial] [The Devil You Don''t: Speak with Headmistress Florence about the Third Trial] 22. Alliances [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Dining Hall] [Date: November 3, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] The next few days proved far too busy for Zeke to bother with speaking to Adrian or the Headmistress about the third Trial. News of his buckler-throwing victory had spread through Leoncrest like wildfire, and students who''d barely acknowledged his existence were suddenly eager to chat. "There he is!" someone shouted as Zeke entered the dining hall the day after the Trial. Dozens of heads turned his way. "Is it true you knocked a royal knight unconscious?" a first-year asked, eyes wide with admiration. "Did you really dent his helmet with just a buckler?" another called out. Zeke grinned and shrugged. "The helmet was pretty thin." By midday, he''d told the story so many times he was sick of hearing his own voice. Eventually, he had to flee to his dorm room just to escape the attention. Ralph found him there, sprawled on his bed with a pillow over his face. "Hiding from your adoring fans?" Ralph laughed, flopping onto his own bed. "You have no idea," Zeke groaned, lifting the pillow. "A third-year just asked me to teach him ''advanced buckler techniques.'' What am I supposed to say to that?" "Charge him for lessons?" Ralph suggested with a grin. "Five silver pieces per hour. You''d be rich by winter break." The excitement didn''t last forever, thankfully. After a few days, the novelty wore off, and Zeke found himself returning to a somewhat normal routine. He was no longer just that weird guy who shouldn''t be there. He had proven himself to a trained knight, and that was a feat that any student would have given their left arm for. Even Diocletian had stopped with the constant sneering, though he''d never admit to being impressed. Some of the professors had started treating Zeke differently too - with a bit more respect, as if he''d finally earned his place among them. As he ate breakfast on the morning of November 3rd, Elise sat down across from him and gave him a smile. "Victoria would kill you if she saw you eating that pastry." "Victoria isn''t here," Zeke replied with a mischievous grin, taking an exaggerated bite of the sweet, flaky treat. "And besides, I already ran five laps around the training yard this morning. I''ve earned this." "Still doesn''t mean she would like it," Elise commented, then shrugged. "You ready for the day?" "Hope so," Zeke said, licking sugar from his fingers. "What did Professor Gerald say we''d be starting in class today? Something about Aura Theory, I think?" "Yeah." Elise screwed up her nose. It had been mentioned offhandedly in their previous class, but had been done rather quickly at the end, and Zeke couldn''t quite remember what had been said about it. "I did a little research in the Library. It''s some pretty heavy stuff. From what I can tell, it''s actually an introduction to a whole series of classes we''ll be taking later on." "Can''t be worse than cleaning out the stables back home," Zeke said with a shrug. "Let''s get to it." As it turned out, it was definitely worse than cleaning stables. When they arrived at class, instead of finding strange items and weapons lying on their desks as usual, they found thick textbooks. Zeke flipped his open and peered inside, discovering tiny print alongside diagrams showing a wide assortment of items with complicated charts sketched next to them. He didn''t have the faintest idea what any of it meant. "Good morning, class!" Professor Gerald walked in, a flurry of robes swirling around him. He seemed somewhat agitated, his movements sharper than usual. Zeke caught a glimpse of what might have been the Headmistress in the hall, but then she was gone, and he frowned. Had they been arguing? "If you were paying attention at the end of last class, you''ll remember that today we''re starting our unit on Aura Theory," Professor Gerald announced. "This is a somewhat experimental branch of Aura Studies, but it''s quite critical to understanding how to master your own Aura." A hand shot up at the front of the classroom, and Diocletian rose without being addressed. "Do we really have to learn this?" "Yes," Professor Gerald nodded sharply. "No whining, either. As some of you know, you''ll be taking three separate classes over the next several years that will dive deeper into the subject matter. For now, I''m to give you an introduction so that when you get to those other classes, it hits you less like an anvil being thrown off a rooftop, and more like a runaway wagon rolling down a mountainside." The whole class, Zeke included, groaned. Professor Gerald flashed a thin smile, then folded his hands behind his back. "The field of Aura Theory began almost two centuries ago, when Professor Lupin de''Levayne realized that the concentration of Aura wasn''t dispersed evenly throughout a weapon he had charged. He began experimenting with it and found that even when masters charged their weapons with Aura, the distribution remained uneven. This launched a field of study that is still in development, but which has yielded..." He paused, and flipped over the textbook. "What term did they use? A garden of useful equations and formulas that will assist the intrepid warrior on their path to greatness." The class groaned again as they flipped open their books to the introductory chapter. As it turned out, a great many things about a weapon could determine how Aura was dispersed through the item - the material it was made from, the shape (curves had different effects than straight lines), the size, the power of the wielder''s Aura, and much more. At the front was a list of all the equations that had been discovered as of the printing of the book. "Two more were discovered only last year, relating to the density of Aura when submerging weapons in water," Professor Gerald informed them. The list made Zeke''s head spin. There were over a hundred equations, which was apparently intended as a "quick reference" guide for the rest of the volume. "Let''s start with something simple," Professor Gerald said, drawing a sword on the chalkboard. "When channeling Aura into a standard longsword, the energy tends to concentrate at the edges and tip. Can anyone tell me why?" No hands went up. Zeke glanced around at his equally confused classmates. "No? Then I''ll explain. Aura follows the path of least resistance, just like water flowing downhill. In metal implements, it''s drawn to the thinnest parts - edges, tips, and any decorative filigree. That''s why many ceremonial weapons actually perform poorly despite being beautiful. The Aura gets trapped in the decorations instead of reinforcing the blade itself." Zeke sat up straighter. This actually seemed... useful. Maybe there was something to this Aura Theory after all. Professor Gerald continued, "Now, look at Equation 3 in your books. This describes the basic distribution pattern in a simple weapon with a single edge." Zeke looked down at his book to see: R = K ¡Á (1/T) ¡Á L2 "Where R is the Aura concentration ratio, K is the conductivity constant of the material, T is the thickness at any given point, and L is the linear distance from the wielder''s hand," Professor Gerald explained. Just like that, Zeke''s newfound interest deflated. The rest of the class was nothing but pain as they tackled some of the most basic shapes and formulas. By the time it was done, Zeke''s head ached, and he stumbled out into the hall clutching his temples. "Oh, this is not going to be fun," he muttered. "I actually find it kinda fascinating!" Elise beamed. "Just think of all the practical applications of this knowledge!" Zeke turned to her and blinked a few times. "I can think of exactly one use for anything I just encountered in that class, and it''s using that textbook to clobber my enemies. Seems more effective than just about any weapon." Diocletian, who was just walking past them, laughed. "For once, I think I might agree with you, Godfrey!" He was gone before Zeke could say anything more, and Elise snickered. "I stand by it," Zeke shrugged. "Just because he agrees with me on something doesn''t mean I''m wrong. You know what they say about blind squirrels." If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "What do they say?" asked a voice from behind them. Zeke turned to find Victoria approaching, dressed in her training gear with a practice sword at her hip. "Even a blind squirrel finds a nut occasionally," Zeke explained. "We were just talking about how much Aura Theory makes my brain hurt." "Ah," Victoria nodded. "It''s brutal at first, but it gets more useful later. The higher-level courses actually teach you how to manipulate Aura distribution consciously." "Wait, you can do that?" Zeke asked, suddenly interested again. "Of course. How do you think I manage to cut through practice dummies with a dull training sword?" Victoria smirked. "I concentrate my Aura at the edge. Makes it sharper than any physical blade." "Now that sounds worth learning," Zeke admitted. "See you at afternoon training?" Victoria asked as she continued down the hall. "Wouldn''t miss it," Zeke called after her. Elise gave him a knowing look. "So you''ll endure Aura Theory after all?" "For a practical payoff like that? Absolutely." They parted ways, and Zeke made his way to his next class. Politics was next on the list, and proved as dull as ever. Zeke sat there, trying to keep a straight face, as the professor droned on and on about how important it was to eat meals in a civilized manner. "People are watching you all the time, you know," he intoned, his voice dripping with pomp. "When you are at a dinner party, the point isn''t the food you are eating, but the company you eat it with. As such, the strictest decorum must be upheld. When consuming soup, as we have previously discussed, you must always scoop your soup away from you, not toward you as is common." Zeke resisted the urge to roll his eyes. That seemed like a good way to splatter soup across everyone else at the table, but what did he know? He had always enjoyed hanging out with the commoners in his village, likely far more than most of the other nobles at the school. He hadn''t realized at the time just how uncommon it was, but the more he heard in politics class, the more he realized that in practice, most nobles never even came in contact with common folk at all, unless a peasant had come to the imperial courts to beg for judgment in some matter. Looking around at his classmates, Zeke could tell which ones had grown up completely isolated from ordinary people. They nodded along solemnly, taking detailed notes on which fork to use for fish versus fowl, while Zeke tried to remember what Victoria had taught him about hidden knives in courtly settings. "Now, we will practice," the professor announced. "Everyone, take up your spoons." The class passed slowly and not without much pain. They were given bowls of water and spoons, and the professor walked around to watch their progress as they attempted to perform the proper soup-eating technique. Zeke did the best he could, but apparently he held his fingers wrong, and the angle at which the spoon entered the water wasn''t quite right. "No, no, de''Godfrey," the professor chided, adjusting Zeke''s grip on the spoon. "The little finger must remain slightly extended - not enough to appear affected, but enough to signal breeding." "Seems like a lot of fuss over soup," Zeke muttered under his breath. The student next to him - a quiet noble named Marcus de''Hobbson - stifled a laugh. "Don''t let old Phineas hear you say that," Marcus whispered. "He once gave a student detention for using the wrong knife to spread butter." After what felt like an eternity, the class finally ended. Zeke gathered his things, already dreading the etiquette quiz the professor had promised for the next session. "Godfrey, a moment," the professor called as students filed out. Zeke approached the desk with trepidation. "Yes, Professor Phineas?" "Your soup technique leaves much to be desired," the professor said, wiping his spectacles with a pristine handkerchief. "But I must commend you on your duel with Sir Constantine. The entire faculty has been talking about it." "Oh," Zeke said, surprised. "Thank you, sir." "While I may teach the finer points of courtly manners, I was once a knight myself," Professor Phineas continued. "Quick thinking and adaptability are just as important as proper form, sometimes more so. Remember that." Zeke nodded, a new respect for the fussy professor forming. "I will, sir." With that unexpected interaction still on his mind, Zeke headed to his History class. History, which had initially seemed as dry as old parchment, was becoming increasingly interesting. At first, it had been pure and utter pain, but the further along in the class they went, the more some of the names started to become familiar, and the patterns of history began to reveal themselves. "And so..." The professor stood at the front of the classroom, chalking a large family tree onto the board. "As you can clearly see, House Goria was doomed from this moment, the instant when Proctor de''Goria married Diana de''Atlas. Proctor was the heir of Donald de''Goria, who was the de facto Senate Chair. At that time, as you''ll remember, the Senate Chair wasn''t an elected member of the Senate, but was an inherited position much like the imperial throne itself. The de''Atlas clan had carefully arranged this marriage, and Diana, while playing the part of a faithful wife, raised their son to question the motives of House Goria." Zeke leaned forward, drawn into the tale of political intrigue. This wasn''t just dusty history - it was a playbook of tactics that might be used against his own house. "When Victor de''Goria became Senate Chair a generation later," the professor continued, "he began to enact policies that eroded de''Goria control over the Senate. At the same time, other strategic de''Atlas marriages resulted in crumbling de''Goria control over the military as well as the agriculture sector. You''ll recall, of course, that it was this control over agriculture that had allowed de''Goria to seize power in the first place. This brings us back around to House Stragga, which had been watching everything up until now..." Zeke scribbled furious notes, seeing parallels to the current situation of House Godfrey. He was still struggling to get decent grades on the tests, but this was the sort of politics he could follow. The way that the different houses undercut each other was actually quite fascinating. It was concerning, of course, as he recognized many of the techniques that had been used against House Godfrey, but knowledge was power - especially knowledge of your enemies'' tactics. When class ended, Zeke hung back for a moment and slowly approached the professor''s desk. The man was older, Lawrence de''Byron, and he wearily sat down as Zeke stepped up. "Yes, de''Godfrey. What can I do for you?" He frowned up at Zeke, his eyes watery with age. "I must say, your test scores are improving remarkably. You''ve done well, for a student with your background." "I have a good instructor," Zeke replied with a grin. "And in my defense, I came into this class without any foundation. The first few weeks, you definitely assumed we knew some of the basic facts. Took me a while to catch up." "Hmm. I suppose I never would have imagined that you didn''t know some of them," Professor Lawrence folded his hands. "Still, as I said, you''ve done well, and I don''t foresee any problems passing you at the end of this term, provided your grades don''t fall. In any case, what can I do for you?" "I was actually wondering..." Zeke paused, choosing his words carefully. "A lot of people hate House Godfrey, and if we fell, we wouldn''t be the first noble house to collapse. I was wondering if you might be able to tell me what our enemies will do next. Based on your understanding of history, what will be their next move?" Professor Lawrence nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Believe it or not, I''ve actually been wondering that fact myself. I''ve started working on a book charting your house over the course of the last three generations." He turned and indicated a large stack of papers on the side of his desk. "It details your collapse to this point, and then your journey so far. In short, as you well know, if you fail so much as a single Trial, your house will be torn to bits. From my correspondence with people in the Senate, it sounds like a great many laws have been passed so that the moment things fall apart here, the Senate can move." Zeke set his jaw, but the professor wasn''t done. "The real question becomes what happens if you do succeed in the Trials. If you can pass, it won''t matter if you graduate and become the most famous knight in the world, or if you retire and just live out the rest of your life in the castle. The matter of a warrior-heir will be kicked down the road for another generation at least, and the Senate won''t want to wait. If I had to make a guess, at least one or two of them will try to propose a similar disastrous marriage, hoping to get their blood into your home. Your brother may have already received such a proposal, but that''s mere speculation. Beyond that... I don''t know. In such cases where the house is pretty small, it''s not uncommon that assassins are simply hired to get the job done manually, so to speak." "Good to know," Zeke said, rubbing the back of his neck. The information wasn''t surprising, but having it confirmed was sobering. "Guess I''ll just have to watch my back." "I do want you to know that your case isn''t hopeless," Professor Lawrence spoke up as Zeke turned to leave. "There have been other houses in similar straits before. House Stragga, for example, was down to fewer people than House Godfrey only two centuries ago. House Levayne has never been the largest noble house, but it was once reduced to only a single couple. They both rebounded, and House Godfrey can too." "Thanks. I appreciate it," Zeke said with a genuine smile. The professor''s words were actually encouraging - if other houses had come back from the brink, so could his. As he reached the door, he heard Professor Lawrence call out after him. "Make sure that this book ends well! I''d like to be known to history, and at this point, my only chance is to author a firsthand account of something particularly epic." Zeke turned around and found a jovial glint in Professor Lawrence''s eye. He laughed and gave a nod before slipping out. It was good that the history professor, who knew how these sorts of things often went, didn''t think it was a lost cause. Still, though... He didn''t exactly sound hopeful of House Godfrey''s recovery, merely acknowledging that it was possible. "Challenge accepted, Professor," Zeke muttered to himself as he headed down the corridor. "Your book''s going to need a spectacular ending." After classes ended for the day, Zeke found himself with a rare free hour before his training session with Victoria. Rather than heading back to his room, he decided to visit the library. If he was going to face more enemies - both inside the academy and out - he needed every advantage he could get. The library was quiet as usual, with only a few students scattered among the towering shelves. Adrian was nowhere to be seen, but Zeke didn''t mind. He had a specific section in mind today. He wound his way through the stacks until he found what he was looking for - a small section dedicated to the history of the Trials. Most students ignored these books, focusing instead on combat techniques or magical theory, but Zeke knew better. Knowledge of what came before could give him an edge on what lay ahead. He pulled down a leather-bound volume titled "The Thirty-Four Trials: A Comprehensive History" and settled at a nearby table. The book was old, its pages yellowed with age, but the information inside might be priceless. "Interesting choice," came a familiar voice. Zeke looked up to see Victoria standing beside his table, her red hair really lit up by the lamplight. "Thought you might be here," she said, sitting across from him. "Trying to get a head start on the Third Trial?" "That''s the plan," Zeke nodded. "Professor Lawrence made me realize I need to be smarter about all this. It''s not just about physical challenges - there''s a whole game being played behind the scenes." Victoria nodded approvingly. "Now you''re thinking like a noble." "Don''t insult me," Zeke replied with a grin. She laughed and pulled the book toward her, flipping through a few pages. "You know, my great-grandfather completed the Trials. Not for House Godfrey, obviously, but as part of his knightly training. The family stories say the Third Trial was the one that nearly broke him." "Any hints about what it involved?" Zeke asked hopefully. Victoria shook her head. "He would never speak of it directly. Just said it tested more than strength or skill - it tested resolve." "That''s... cryptically unhelpful." "Welcome to noble education," Victoria said dryly. "Ready for training? I''ve got some new sword forms to show you that might come in handy." Zeke closed the book and stood. "Lead the way. Between Aura Theory and etiquette lessons, I could use a good workout." As they walked to the training yard, Zeke reflected on how much had changed in just a few months. He''d gone from being an outsider barely tolerated at Leoncrest to someone with real friends and growing respect. The path ahead was still treacherous, with enemies on all sides and impossible trials to face, but for the first time, he wasn''t just fighting to avoid failure. He was fighting to win. And if Professor Lawrence was going to write the history of House Godfrey''s rise from the ashes, Zeke was determined to give him one hell of a story to tell. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [The Devil You Know: Speak with Adrian about the Third Trial] [The Devil You Don''t: Speak with Headmistress Florence about the Third Trial] 23. Making Deals [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 1] [Date: November 5, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] "I think the answer is three," Ralph declared, dropping into the chair at his desk with absolute confidence. "No way," Zeke said, squinting down at the worksheet in front of him. Aura class had surprised them all with something called "homework" - a concept Zeke found almost as unpleasant as cleaning the stables back home. The paper showed a sword and asked for calculations about "volume" that made his head spin. "If you look at this part here..." "I''m just saying, if you don''t know, the answer is always three," Ralph insisted, leaning back in his chair until it balanced on two legs. "Makes you look like you''re not just guessing, so the professors give you partial credit. You can modify it if you need to. If it looks like it should be a big number, put 300, or 3,000, or¡ª" "That''s your big academic secret?" Zeke laughed, tossing his quill onto the desk. "Just write down threes everywhere?" "Hey, I''m passing all my classes, aren''t I?" Ralph grinned. Zeke looked back at the worksheet. The instructions noted that "volume" could be determined by filling a bucket with water and dropping the sword inside to see how much water ran out. He''d been tempted to just write "I don''t have a bucket with me" and call it a day. "I need to get a good grade in this class," Zeke said, running a hand through his hair. "This Aura Theory stuff might as well be written in another language." "Why not ask Elise? She seems to know her stuff," Ralph suggested, balancing a pencil on the tip of his finger. "And she''s cute." Zeke rolled his eyes. "She''s busy today. Her private instructor is giving her some lecture on the ''proper relationship of commoners to nobles'' or something equally ridiculous." "Sounds thrilling," Ralph snorted. "So why not ask that old guy down in the library? The one who knows everything?" Zeke paused, then his face brightened. "Adrian! That''s not a bad idea." He checked the small clock on their shared desk. "I''ve got a couple hours before curfew. Catch you later!" "Don''t get eaten by gargoyles!" Ralph called after him as Zeke grabbed his papers and bounded out the door. The castle corridors were quieter than usual at this hour. Most students were in their rooms studying or had gathered in the common areas to socialize before curfew. Zeke trotted down the spiral staircase, taking the steps two at a time, eager to get Adrian''s help before the library closed. He nodded to a few students he recognized as he crossed the main hall. Since his victory in the Second Trial, people had started acknowledging him more. Some even smiled or waved now instead of looking away. Amazing what knocking a royal knight flat on his back could do for your social standing. The library doors stood open, welcoming the few dedicated students who preferred books to evening recreation. Zeke slipped inside, breathing in the familiar scent of old paper and leather bindings. A handful of people moved quietly between shelves or hunched over tables with open tomes. It took Zeke a moment to locate Adrian near the center of the vast room, carefully returning books to their proper places from a wooden cart. The old librarian smiled as Zeke approached, climbing down from a small stool. "Ah, Zeke! What can I help you with?" Zeke winced and held up the worksheet. Adrian''s expression immediately shifted to one of sympathetic understanding. "Aura Theory," he said with a knowing nod. "Come, sit down." They settled at a work table tucked between two tall shelves, away from the other students. Adrian examined the worksheet, his brow furrowing slightly. "Professor Gerald has quite the fondness for complex calculations," he muttered, pulling a piece of scrap paper toward him. "Right, let''s work through this step by step." Adrian''s explanation made the process clearer than Professor Gerald''s entire lecture had. He showed Zeke shortcuts for calculating the volume of irregularly shaped objects and explained the basic principles behind the formulas. It still wasn''t easy, but at least now Zeke understood what he was trying to accomplish. "So I multiply these two numbers, then divide by the density constant?" Zeke asked, working through the final problem. "Exactly," Adrian nodded approvingly. "You''ve got it." Zeke completed the calculation and sat back with a satisfied smile. "Thanks. I really appreciate the help." "Happy to assist," Adrian replied, gathering the scrap papers they''d used. "You seem to have a natural aptitude for practical applications. The theory just requires a different way of thinking." "Speaking of practical applications," Zeke said, tucking the completed worksheet into his notebook, "how important is Aura Theory, really? Will I actually use this stuff?" Adrian chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "For you right now, very important - you need to pass your classes, after all." "Right, I know," Zeke grinned. "But I mean in real life. You know, outside of tests and homework." "The short answer is... maybe?" Adrian shrugged. "Warriors fought for thousands of years without knowing a thing about Aura Theory. On the flip side, studying it has led to improvements in weapon design. Take a look at most modern swords - you''ll notice small notches near the base of the blade, right by the hilt. From a structural standpoint, those make the blade weaker and more likely to break, but from an Aura perspective, they strengthen the energy you can channel into the weapon." "Really?" Zeke said, genuinely interested. "So it could help me if I''m designing weapons someday." "That would be the primary application," Adrian agreed, "but I wouldn''t dismiss it entirely. Knowledge has a way of becoming useful at unexpected moments." The old librarian started to rise from his chair. "Now, if you''ll excuse me, I''m afraid I need to get back to work. These books won''t shelve themselves." "Wait!" Zeke held up a hand. "Sorry, one more thing. I wanted to ask about the Third Trial." Adrian paused, settling back into his seat. "Ah, yes. I imagine you''ll be facing that soon." "I need to set it up with the Headmistress," Zeke explained, "but I wanted to get your thoughts first. Any insights you can share?" "The Third Trial," Adrian said thoughtfully. "Like the first two, it''s designed to test your basic qualities as a warrior. The First Trial examined your endurance, the Second your weapon proficiency. The Third tests your ability to use Aura." Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Zeke''s face fell. "That''s probably what I''m worst at. And I''ve lost my private tutor." "Professor Gerald isn''t the only Aura instructor in the Academy," Adrian pointed out. "True, but there aren''t any others from houses allied with mine," Zeke replied, tapping his fingers on the table. "The closest I''ve gotten is Ralph''s relatives, and they''re good, but not exactly what I''m looking for." "I see." Adrian stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I do have some contacts in that department. I''ll see what I can do to find you a tutor." "That would be great," Zeke said, perking up. "Could you tell me more about what the test specifically involves? Knowing the Second Trial was a ''sparring match'' didn''t exactly prepare me for having to master five different weapons." "You make a fair point." Adrian closed his eyes, clearly searching his memory. "Let me see if I can recall... I was one of the moderators when your brother took it. It was an Aura Infusion test, as I recall. It was... Oh!" His eyes snapped open. "I can''t tell you." "You can''t tell me?" Zeke stared at him. "Why not?" "Because doing so would undermine the nature of the test," Adrian explained, looking genuinely apologetic. "It''s... complicated. What I can say is that you''ll need to infuse your aura into an item. I cannot tell you what the item is or what you''ll have to do with it, but you should begin practicing your infusion techniques immediately." "Great," Zeke said, trying not to sound discouraged. He''d been hoping for more specific information. "Any chance you could reach out to those contacts now?" Adrian smiled. "Let me see what I can do." Fifteen minutes later, armed with a letter of recommendation from Adrian, Zeke marched purposefully toward Tower 7. The sun was setting outside the high windows, casting long shadows across the stone floors as he climbed the spiral staircase to the ninth floor. According to Adrian, Professor Harold de''Hobbson was one of the most skilled Aura instructors at the Academy. He was also, unfortunately, from a house with no love for the Godfreys. Still, Zeke had faced worse odds before. He found the office door easily enough - a plain wooden door with a simple brass nameplate. Taking a deep breath, Zeke knocked firmly three times. For a moment, there was no response, and he wondered if he''d have to come back another day. Then the door clicked open just enough for a pale face to peer out. Professor Harold de''Hobbson was a narrow, gaunt man with skin so pale it seemed almost translucent. His black robes hung loosely on his thin frame, making him look like a specter from a ghost story. Cold eyes examined Zeke from beneath heavy brows. "What can I do for you, de''Godfrey?" The voice was as thin as the man himself, but carried an unexpected strength. "I have a letter here from Adrian de''Levayne," Zeke said, holding out the sealed note. "I was hoping I could secure your assistance with Aura training." "My assistance?" Professor Harold''s eyebrows rose as he took the letter, breaking the seal and unfolding it. His eyes scanned the page for a long moment before returning to Zeke. "You are aware, of course, that our houses want to destroy each other? I have received many letters asking me to fail you in whatever capacity I can, and have had the sad duty of informing my relatives that I do not have you in any of my classes." He continued, his voice taking on an edge. "In turn, your father has lobbied several times over the last two months to dissolve various Hobbson holdings, for a variety of reasons. All have been rejected, of course, but the fact remains that House Hobbson and House Godfrey are hardly on good terms. Why, pray tell, do you think I would help you?" Zeke met the professor''s gaze directly. "Honestly? I don''t have the faintest idea if you will. But I can''t go to House Stragga, House Minziar hates me even more than you do, and then there''s House Dracthen. Those are the only houses with professors in the Aura department, which doesn''t leave me many options." Professor Harold raised a thin eyebrow. "You haven''t been paying much attention in your political class, have you? What you''ve just told me is that I''m your only hope." Zeke winced, realizing his tactical error. This was exactly the sort of thing the political class should be teaching, instead of proper soup-spoon etiquette. "With my knowledge of the Trials," Professor Harold continued, "I am well aware that the next one involves Aura, which you are woefully unprepared for. Thus, I hold in my hands not only your future, but the future of House Godfrey itself. That is no small thing, however you may try to phrase it." Zeke thought quickly. "Is there a favor I could do for you in exchange?" "A favor, equal to the immense task I would be assisting you with?" The professor''s lips curved into something that wasn''t quite a smile. "That would seem to be a tall order, indeed." He sighed dramatically, then nodded. "Perhaps there is something." "What would that be?" Zeke asked, bracing himself. Would it be spying? Stealing something? There was no telling what this level of political maneuvering might require. "I would like you to write a letter to your father," Professor Harold said slowly, choosing each word with care. "Tell him to file an injunction with the Senate, asking them to look into House Minziar''s acquisition of the Greenmeadow Province last spring." Zeke blinked, surprised by the simplicity of the request. "That''s it?" "Yes," Professor Harold nodded. "That will be more than sufficient. Tell him, in particular, that the injunction should focus on House Minziar''s claim that the Greenmeadow Province was historically part of their territory, only becoming autonomous through the Second War of Succession. It was this claim that formed the foundation of their acquisition." He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. "However, if the proper records are pulled from the central archives, it will be discovered that the maps they relied upon were forged. A search through a secret, sealed compartment will reveal the correct diagrams, which were hidden away to cover up this crime. I will give you all the details at our first lesson, which will take place tomorrow afternoon." Zeke bowed his head, trying to hide his surprise at securing the deal so easily. "Thank you, Professor. I appreciate your assistance." Professor Harold merely gave a thin nod before closing the door firmly. Zeke stood there a moment longer, processing what had just happened, before heading back toward his dormitory. The sun had nearly disappeared beyond the horizon by the time he reached Tower 1. The windows were already creaking open along the corridors, preparing for the gargoyles'' nightly patrol. Zeke quickened his pace, slipping into his room just as he heard the heavy thud of stone feet in the hallway. Inside, he found Ralph standing on his bed, enthusiastically swinging an imaginary sword at invisible opponents. "What are you doing?" Zeke asked, dropping his books on the desk. "I''m practicing!" Ralph jumped down, his face flushed with exertion. "So what''d you find out? Anything cool?" "About Aura Theory? Not much," Zeke said, pulling out a fresh sheet of parchment and his quill. "But I did manage to secure private lessons with Professor Harold de''Hobbson." "Hobbson?" Ralph''s eyes widened. "How''d you manage that? They hate you Godfreys almost as much as the Minziars do." Zeke explained the deal he''d struck, watching Ralph''s expression grow increasingly amazed. "That''s the price of your private lessons?" Ralph burst out laughing when Zeke finished. "No way! Oh, House Minziar is going to hate you even more than they already do!" "Why?" Zeke asked, dipping his quill in ink. "Losing a province they just acquired is a setback, sure, but¡ª" "The Greenmeadow Province has been semi-autonomous for centuries," Ralph explained, suddenly serious. "It has an iron mine that produces some of the best steel in the nation, which House Arnette buys in massive quantities. The quality keeps our forges producing the finest weapons, and the trade keeps the province wealthy enough to pay off nobles who want to take control." He sat on the edge of his bed, warming to the topic. "Finally, just last year, House Minziar managed to ''prove'' they were the rightful owners and moved in. Everyone knew they were lying, but no one could figure out where they''d hidden the original documents. The archive vaults have serious security - getting in and tampering with records should have been impossible." "So if this works..." Zeke began. "If this works, House Minziar loses an enormous source of income that they just spent years scheming to acquire," Ralph finished. "And House Arnette will be thrilled. Minziar nearly doubled the prices on us, and we need that steel to maintain our reputation." He grinned. "Not that I care about any of that boring stuff, of course." "Of course not," Zeke said with a smile, turning back to his letter. "Well, seems worth it to me. I need all the help I can get for this next Trial." "Just be careful," Ralph warned, suddenly serious. "House Minziar isn''t known for taking setbacks gracefully. My father says they have more assassins on their payroll than servants." "I''ll watch my back," Zeke promised, beginning to write. The letter would need to be carefully worded - formal enough to be taken seriously, but not so detailed that his father would question where the information came from. As he wrote, Zeke wondered what other political games were being played behind the scenes at Leoncrest. The Trial system was challenging enough on its own, but now he had to navigate noble vendettas and centuries-old grudges too. Still, he couldn''t help but feel a thrill of excitement. This was real politics - not the stuffy table manners taught in class, but the kind that changed borders and shifted power. For the first time, Zeke wasn''t just reacting to the plots around him; he was making moves of his own. "Dear Father," he wrote, his handwriting unusually neat. "I hope this letter finds you well. I write to bring a matter of some importance to your attention, regarding a provincial issue that''s come up." The candle burned late into the night as Zeke carefully crafted his letter. By the time he finished, Ralph was fast asleep, snoring softly from across the room. Zeke sealed the letter with wax and set it aside to be sent first thing in the morning. Tomorrow would bring Aura training with Professor Harold, another step toward conquering the Third Trial. And perhaps, if he was lucky, a new ally in the political chess game that surrounded House Godfrey. One thing was certain - Leoncrest was teaching him lessons that went far beyond any classroom. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [The Devil You Don''t: Speak with Headmistress Florence about the Third Trial] [More Training: Meet with Professor Harold for Aura training] [Letters to Home: Write the letter to your father] 24. Weapon Mastery [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Outer Courtyards] [Date: November 11, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] "Lunge!" "Strike!" "Heave!" Zeke slashed at the air, putting everything he had into each blow. The practice dummy in front of him was lacerated with half a dozen wounds, all of which magically healed after only a few seconds. A bit of sand ran down from the burlap sacks in the moments before the fabric stitched itself back together, almost looking like blood. He stepped back, chest heaving but a grin spreading across his face. "Very good!" Victoria strode forward, her sharp eyes sweeping over the small group of students. "You''re all showing remarkable improvement. We''ll run a few more drills, and then call it quits for the morning!" Zeke nodded eagerly. The early morning air was crisp, and his breath formed small clouds with each exhale. Despite the cold, sweat trickled down his back beneath his training clothes. Victoria quickly demonstrated several more attack patterns, then clapped her hands. "Alright! We''re going to go fast now! Follow my lead, and do the best you can! High! Low! High-high! Mid-high! Mid-low!" The calls came faster and faster. Zeke''s sword became a blur as he matched each command with the corresponding strike. His muscles burned with the effort, but he pushed through, focusing on keeping his form clean even as the pace increased. Blow after blow rained down upon the dummy until finally, Victoria raised her hand. "Alright, everyone! I think that''s all we''ve got in us for today! Good work, and I''ll see you all tomorrow!" Zeke let out a long breath and sheathed his sword. He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his face, watching as the other students headed back toward the Academy''s main buildings. Some dragged their feet, clearly exhausted, but Zeke felt energized. Each session brought him one step closer to mastering the skills he''d need for the Trials. He turned and walked over to Victoria, who was gathering her training materials. "Hey, Zeke!" She waved as he approached. "You looked sharp out there today. That last sequence was nearly perfect." "Thanks," he said, helping her pick up some of the practice equipment. "I''ve been practicing those forms every night before bed." "It shows," she replied with an approving nod. "I''ve got a bit of an odd question," Zeke said, stacking the wooden practice swords. "I was wondering if I could start getting some extra training in weapons other than a sword." Victoria straightened up, giving him a thoughtful look. "Still thinking about the Trial?" "Yeah." Zeke pushed a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "The thing is, I''m not just trying to check off boxes for the sake of it. There''s a lot riding on my family right now, and if the Godfreys of the past thought it was important for a warrior to know all sorts of different weapons, then I should probably learn them too." He grinned. "Plus, you never know if it might come up again in a future Trial. They could be checking to see if we''ve learned from past challenges." "Smart thinking," Victoria said, crossing her arms. "I can certainly teach you a few myself. I''m not as good with the others as I am with a sword, but..." She bit her lip, considering. "I know some instructors who specialize in just about every form of combat. I can borrow some books from them, get some tips, and see what I can pass along. We''ll need to find time outside our normal class, though." "How about lunchtime?" Zeke suggested, mentally reviewing his packed schedule. Between Victoria''s morning sword class and his evening Aura lessons with Professor Harold, free time was becoming a rare commodity. "Don''t you want to eat?" Victoria asked, raising an eyebrow. "Sure I do," Zeke replied with a shrug. "But I can grab something and eat it in a few minutes. No problem." "Not good for digestion," she pointed out. "Unless you can meet even earlier than we already do, I don''t have much choice," Zeke said, grinning. "My schedule''s pretty packed these days." Victoria considered this for a moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded. "Let''s do lunchtime. Three days a week, alright? Nothing as intense as our morning sessions, but enough to teach you the basics of different weapons. First class today? We can meet in the courtyard adjacent to the dining hall, so we don''t have to completely skip eating." Zeke''s face lit up. "Perfect! Thanks, Victoria." "Don''t thank me yet," she warned with a smile. "You might regret it when you''re learning to use a war hammer." When lunch hour arrived, Zeke hurried to the dining hall. He spotted Victoria finishing her meal with a group of upper-year students. She caught his eye and nodded toward a side door before excusing herself from her friends. Zeke quickly filled a plate with sliced chicken, bread, and a handful of berries, then followed her outside. The small courtyard was enclosed by stone walls on all sides, with decorative garden beds lining the perimeter. The center was open space, ideal for their purposes. Victoria stood beside a small pile of weapons and equipment laid out on a cloth. She held an open book in her hands, studying it intently. "Alright," she said as Zeke approached. "I spoke with my instructors, and they loaned me this manual. It''s written by masters in each combat discipline, specifically designed so teachers who aren''t experts in every weapon can still provide effective training. It''s probably our best shot at getting you comfortable with a variety of weapons quickly." "That''s perfect," Zeke said, setting his plate on a nearby bench. "Thanks for going to the trouble." "Hey, it''s getting me extra credit in some of my classes, so we both win!" Victoria smiled. "What would you like to learn first?" Zeke surveyed the assortment of weapons. There was a heavy mace with a flanged head, a long spear with a blunted tip, and several hook-like implements he didn''t recognize. He had hoped to practice archery, but there was no bow in the collection. "Let''s start with the spear," he decided, picking it up and testing its weight. It was longer than he expected and took a moment to balance properly. "Good choice," Victoria nodded, flipping through her book. "The spear is a very useful weapon, with a wide variety of... you know what? I''m not going to read all this academic jargon." She lowered the book. "Here''s what you need to know: The spear isn''t usually a one-on-one combat weapon. In warfare, it''s all about the formation. When armies face off, the front soldiers carry spears to form battle lines that are nearly impossible to breach. If your army has six feet of pointy steel in front of it, enemy forces think twice before charging." Zeke nodded, fascinated. This was the kind of practical knowledge they never taught in regular classes. "A properly trained spear line can break cavalry charges and turn the tide of battle," Victoria continued. "But let''s say you''re on your own with just a spear. There are four main ways to use it effectively. One: Braced against the ground, usually for stopping larger opponents or horses. Two: Raised and jabbing, used for fending off opponents and keeping them at a distance. Three: Raised and lunging, used for attacking. Four: Thrown as a last resort." She raised the book again. "We''ll start with braced position. Hold the spear near its midpoint and lower the back end to touch the ground." Following her instructions, Zeke positioned himself. The cobblestones were slippery, making it difficult to set the spear properly, but after a few adjustments, he managed to brace it securely. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. "Good," Victoria nodded, picking up a shield from their equipment pile. "The tip is blunted for practice, so I won''t get hurt. I''m going to charge you, and you''re going to try to stop me. Ready?" "Ready!" Zeke called, widening his stance for stability. Victoria backed up several paces, then charged forward, her boots clattering against the stone. She raised the shield and crashed into the spear. The impact jarred through Zeke''s arms, and the butt end of the weapon slipped on the cobblestones. A moment later, Victoria had broken through his defense and tapped him with the shield. "Not bad for a first try," she said, stepping back. "Again." They practiced the braced position for fifteen minutes, with Victoria charging again and again. Zeke''s arms burned with the effort, but each attempt lasted longer than the previous one. Finally, on what felt like the twentieth try, he managed to hold his ground. Victoria slammed into the spear and came to a complete stop, the impact sending a shudder through the weapon. "Excellent!" she exclaimed, lowering her shield. "You''ve got it now. Your stance is solid." Zeke beamed with pride. "What''s next?" "Let''s move on to raised and jabbing," Victoria said, demonstrating the stance. This technique, she explained, was useful for keeping multiple opponents at bay. The spear''s reach meant you could threaten several people without committing to a single target - valuable when outnumbered. They practiced various jabbing patterns, with Victoria correcting his grip and stance. "Keep your back elbow higher," she instructed. "That gives you more control over the tip." By the time they''d worked through all four techniques, Zeke was drenched in sweat despite the cool autumn air. His muscles ached pleasantly, and he felt a deep satisfaction at having learned something entirely new. He collapsed onto the bench beside his now-cold lunch and began eating hungrily while Victoria packed up the equipment. "Question," he said between bites. "Is the sword really that much better than other weapons? Why isn''t something like the spear more common among knights?" Victoria secured the practice spear in its case before answering. "That''s actually a common misconception. Among regular soldiers and common folk, weapons like spears and axes are far more prevalent. A military commander facing battle would much rather have soldiers who can form a proper spear line than individuals skilled with swords." She sat beside him on the bench. "Swords became symbols of nobility and knighthood largely because they''re difficult and expensive to make well, and they require significant training to master. They''re also versatile personal weapons - you can carry a sword at your hip through daily life in a way you can''t with a spear or war hammer. But in actual warfare? A formation of spearmen will break a formation of swordsmen almost every time." Zeke listened intently as Victoria continued explaining different battlefield strategies and weapon applications. Her knowledge was impressive, going far beyond just the mechanics of combat to the real-world applications. "Each weapon has its ideal use," she concluded. "The best warrior isn''t the one who masters a single weapon, but the one who knows which tool to use in each situation." "That makes a lot of sense," Zeke nodded, finishing the last of his chicken. "I''m already looking forward to our next session." Victoria gathered her things and stood. "Two days from now?" "I''ll be here," Zeke confirmed. "Thanks again for this." Victoria smiled and headed off toward her afternoon classes. Zeke remained seated, reflecting on everything he''d learned. He was so lost in thought that he didn''t notice the door opening behind him until a voice broke his reverie. "Picking up new tricks, Godfrey?" He turned to see Ingrid standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a curious expression on her face. Unlike Victoria''s refined noble bearing, Ingrid had a rugged, practical presence that reminded Zeke of the professional soldiers he''d occasionally seen traveling through his family''s lands. "Hey," he greeted her. "Just trying to learn as much as I can." "So I see," she replied, approaching. "Victoria''s a good teacher. I watched part of your session from the window." "You were spying on us?" Zeke asked, amused. "Observing," Ingrid corrected with a half-smile. "I was checking in to see how the star of the Academy was doing." "I don''t know, but if he comes by, I''ll ask him," Zeke quipped, grinning. She rolled her eyes and sat down next to him. "Come on. Victoria told me you''re only doing this to help your house, but you have to know you''re making waves, right? People are taking notice. Some think you''re positioning yourself for something bigger." "Well, that''s what they get for thinking," Zeke said with a shrug. "I don''t play politics. You can ask my professor - he''ll tell you I''m terrible at it. I''m just doing what I have to do to keep my family safe." Ingrid raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Look," Zeke continued, his expression growing more serious, "it''s like this. Say your family was being threatened by rival mercenaries. Maybe training extra hard makes you stand out, but it also means the people you care about don''t wind up with daggers in their backs." Ingrid studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Fair enough. The only reason I came over was to see what you''d say. You seem genuine to me." She stood abruptly, as if ready to leave, but Zeke''s curiosity was piqued. "What about you?" he asked. "What weapons do you know how to use? I''ve never seen you wearing one, but I bet you''re skilled with several." Ingrid turned back, a coy smile playing at her lips. "Now that''s the sort of information that''s going to cost you." Zeke laughed. "And what would the price be for that favor?" "How about you owe me one?" she replied, returning to sit beside him. "I know how to use a sword, just like everyone else. I''ve trained with spears and bows, but my specialty is actually a sling." "A slingshot?" Zeke asked, picturing the Y-shaped toys children played with. "No, a sling," Ingrid corrected, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out what initially looked like a simple leather strap. As she unfolded it, Zeke saw it was about three feet long and an inch wide, with a widened section in the center forming a small pouch. "Remember the story of that shepherd who took down a giant? That kind of sling," she explained. "I''m not as physically strong as my brothers or most of my relatives - that''s just reality. But with this weapon?" She held up the simple leather strap. "You don''t need raw strength. It looks silly, I know, but it can deliver tremendous force. I''ve killed lions with it." "Wait, hold up," Zeke said, eyes widening. "You''ve seen lions? Not in some noble''s menagerie?" "Some of our territory extends out toward the desert regions," she nodded. "It gets pretty wild out there. The lions actually aren''t the worst - they get tired of competing with trolls and wyverns for food, so when humans come through, we''re easy targets." She held up the sling. "With this, I can hit something accurately from 200 feet away and can kill most threats that come within 100 feet." "That''s incredible," Zeke said, genuinely impressed. He''d never considered a sling as a serious weapon before. "Can you teach me?" "That''ll be a second favor," Ingrid said, puffing out her cheeks thoughtfully. "But I think we can work something out. Tomorrow?" They spent the next few minutes arranging details for their training session. Ingrid knew several secluded spots around the castle grounds where they could practice without drawing attention. When they finished, Zeke extended his hand, and they shook on their agreement. "You''re going to be sore in places you didn''t know you had muscles," Ingrid warned him with a mischievous grin. "Wouldn''t be the first time," Zeke replied cheerfully. "I''ll see you tomorrow." As Ingrid departed, Zeke gathered his things and headed for his afternoon classes. His schedule was now packed to bursting - morning sword training with Victoria, lunchtime weapon sessions three days a week, new sling training with Ingrid, evening Aura lessons with Professor Harold, and regular classes in between. He''d barely have time to breathe, let alone sleep. But as he walked through the castle corridors, Zeke couldn''t help smiling. Each new skill brought him one step closer to mastering the Trials and saving his family. And if he was honest with himself, he was enjoying the challenge. Let the other students spend their free time gambling and gossiping in the common rooms. By the time Zeke was finished, he''d know how to fight with everything from a war hammer to a dinner fork. And if the next Trial involved combat skills of any kind, he''d be more than ready. The next day, Zeke rose before dawn as usual for Victoria''s sword class. The training was grueling, but he pushed through with enthusiasm, earning a nod of approval from Victoria when he executed a particularly complex maneuver perfectly. After morning classes came his first session with Ingrid. She led him to a secluded garden on the eastern side of the castle grounds, where high walls ensured privacy and a row of hay targets had been set up against the far wall. "First things first," Ingrid said, handing him a simple leather sling similar to hers. "This is not a toy. People underestimate slings because they look primitive, but a good slinger can kill a man in full plate armor by targeting the right spots." She showed him how to hold the sling properly, one end looped around his middle finger, the other held between thumb and forefinger. The pouch in the center would cradle the stone or lead bullet. "The key is the release point," she explained, demonstrating the motion slowly. "You swing it overhead like this, building momentum, and then release the free end at exactly the right moment. Too early, and your shot goes high. Too late, and it hits the ground." Zeke watched intently as she loaded a smooth stone into her sling, whirled it three times over her head, and released. The stone flew true, smashing into the center of a hay target fifty feet away. "That looked easy," Zeke said, picking up a stone from the pile she''d gathered. "It''s not," Ingrid warned. "You''re going to miss. A lot. The important thing is to keep your eye on the target and maintain consistent motion." She was right. Zeke''s first attempt sent the stone sailing over the garden wall. His second went directly into the ground at his feet. The third spun wildly to the left, nearly hitting a decorative statue. "Not even close," Ingrid said, hiding a smile. "I''ll get it," Zeke replied, undeterred. He picked up another stone and tried again. For the next hour, Zeke practiced the basic motion while Ingrid corrected his technique. By the end of the session, he''d managed to hit the vicinity of the targets a few times, though nothing near the accuracy Ingrid displayed. "You''re actually doing better than most beginners," she admitted as they packed up. "It took me weeks to hit anything at all when I first started." "Really?" Zeke asked, rotating his sore shoulder. "No, I was a natural," Ingrid grinned. "But you''re not terrible. We''ll work on your aim next time." Despite his aching muscles, Zeke laughed. "I''ll take that as a compliment." "You should," she replied. "Oh, and one more thing. Don''t tell anyone I''m teaching you this. Slings aren''t considered ''noble'' weapons - they''re commoner tools. Some of the stuffier aristocrats would look down on both of us." "Your secret''s safe with me," Zeke promised. "Besides, if what you showed me is true, I''d rather have this skill and be mocked than be respected and dead." "Smart man," Ingrid nodded approvingly. "Same time tomorrow?" "Wouldn''t miss it," Zeke said. That evening, after his Aura lessons with Professor Harold, Zeke collapsed onto his bed, every muscle in his body protesting. Ralph looked up from the blade he was polishing. "You look like you wrestled a bear," he commented. "Feels more like the bear won," Zeke replied with a tired smile. "Worth it?" Zeke thought about everything he''d learned in just the past two days - sword techniques from Victoria, spear combat basics, the beginning of sling mastery with Ingrid, and advanced Aura control from Professor Harold. "Absolutely worth it," he said with conviction. "By the time the next Trial comes around, I''ll be ready for anything." As he drifted off to sleep, Zeke''s mind was already looking forward to tomorrow''s training. There were worlds of skills to master, and he intended to learn them all. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [The Devil You Don''t: Speak with Headmistress Florence about the Third Trial] [Even More Training: Meet with Victoria for unique weapon training] [More and More and More and More Training: Meet with Ingrid to learn how to use a sling] 25. Good Memories [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 1] [Date: November 20, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] Zeke came running through the door of his room and flopped onto his bed with a satisfied groan. His muscles burned from the day''s training, but the good kind of burn that meant progress. It had been about a week since he''d started his intensified training routine, and while his body protested, his spirit soared at each new skill mastered. "I''m telling you, you''re doing too much," Ralph commented, glancing up from the small dagger he was polishing. "You''re going to put yourself in an early grave." "Nah," Zeke replied, stretching his arms overhead until his shoulders popped. "Everyone else will put me in an early grave if I don''t learn to stand my ground. Besides, I''m getting stronger every day!" "I think you''re exaggerating how many people want to kill you," Ralph shook his head, returning to his work. "Maybe," Zeke grinned, rolling onto his side. "But better prepared than surprised. Right now, all I know is I could sleep for a week." Knock-knock. "Now who could that be?" Ralph wondered aloud, moving to open the door. His eyebrows shot up. "Ah! Allow me to welcome you into our humble abode, dear lady. Your wish is our command." He executed an exaggerated bow. Elise laughed as she stepped into the room. Her eyes quickly found Zeke sprawled across his bed. "Hey! You okay? You look like you''ve been wrestling bears." "Just wrestling with Victoria''s sword drills," Zeke replied, sitting up with renewed energy. "What''s up? Everything alright?" "Everything''s fine," she nodded. "I was just wondering if you were still planning to come to the cooking class tonight. We''re making pies, remember?" Zeke blinked a few times, then his face lit up. "That''s right! Apple pies!" He jumped to his feet, fatigue seemingly forgotten. "I''ve been looking forward to it all week." "We don''t have to go if you''re too tired," Elise said, studying his face with concern. "You''ve been pushing yourself pretty hard." "And miss pie-making? Not a chance!" Zeke grabbed his jacket from the bedpost. "I haven''t had a good pie since the harvest festival back home. Let''s go!" "You''re sure?" Elise asked again. "Absolutely," Zeke nodded firmly. "Besides, watching you work magic with food is worth staying awake for." "He''ll be back later, Ralph!" Elise called as they headed out. "I won''t wait up!" Ralph replied with a knowing grin. The halls were quiet as they made their way down through the castle toward the cooking classroom. Most students were either studying in their rooms or gathered in the common areas, playing games or sharing gossip. Torches cast a warm glow along the corridors, chasing away the November chill that seeped through the stone walls. "Thanks for coming to these classes with me," Elise said, glancing over at him. "It really does mean a lot." "Are you kidding? Thank you for inviting me," Zeke replied, hopping down the last few steps of a staircase. "It''s nice seeing something that''s such a big part of your life, you know?" "Yeah," she nodded, then frowned slightly. "I just wish I could see your childhood world too. What was it like growing up in a noble house?" "Oh, nothing special," Zeke shrugged, ducking beneath a low archway. "I spent most of my time trying to escape my tutors and going fishing with Artax. All the really interesting stuff started happening in the last six months. You haven''t missed much." "Somehow I doubt that," Elise smiled. "But I''ll take your word for it." As they approached the classroom, the smell of baking spices wafted through the air. Zeke''s stomach rumbled in response. "So what exactly goes into making a pie?" he asked. "I''ve eaten plenty, but never actually seen one being made." "Want me to spoil the surprise?" Elise asked, eyes twinkling. "No, but I''m curious how country folk like you make pies compared to the castle kitchen," he clarified. "Any big differences?" She considered the question for a moment. "Well, I suppose the main difference would be gathering the ingredients. When I was growing up, my mother and I would trek out into the woods to collect berries and fruits ourselves. There were dozens of berry bushes if you knew where to look, or we might walk down the road to find wild apple trees." Her eyes took on a distant look as she continued. "We''d spend hours searching for the perfect ones. Eventually, it became a competition to see who could bring back the most." She sighed, smiling at the memory. "Those were wonderful days." Zeke listened, fascinated by this glimpse into a life so different from his own. Where he had grown up with servants bringing food to the table, Elise had helped create meals from the very beginning. They soon reached the classroom. Ericka had secured a much larger space this time, and it was already filling with students. Zeke was surprised at how many people had come - at least three times more than the first class. "Popular class," he remarked as Elise led him to a workstation along the side wall. "Who wouldn''t want to learn to make pie?" Elise replied. As more students filtered in, Zeke observed the crowd with interest. There were far more nobles than he would have expected for what was traditionally considered servants'' work. Maybe cooking was becoming fashionable among the aristocracy? Or perhaps, like him, they were just looking for something different from the usual routine of combat training and political maneuvering. When the room was nearly full, Ericka stepped forward, clapping her hands for attention. "First off, I want to thank everyone for coming tonight," she announced, her voice carrying across the crowded room. "It''s wonderful to see such enthusiasm! Today, we''re making apple pie, a staple of the eastern half of the kingdom. We''ll start by selecting our fruit - if one person from each team could come forward, please take ten apples from this barrel." She gestured toward a large wooden barrel overflowing with crisp green apples. Elise nodded to Zeke and slipped off to join the line. When she returned, she carried ten perfect specimens that she arranged neatly across their workspace. "These look amazing," Zeke said, picking one up and inhaling its fresh, tart scent. "Alright, everyone!" Ericka called out. "First, we''ll prepare the filling. When you cut the apples, they''ll start browning immediately, so that''ll be the last thing we do. For now, look under your workstation and pull out the supplies there." This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Zeke crouched down and helped Elise retrieve several bowls, measuring cups, and wooden spoons. Following Ericka''s instructions, they began mixing different types of sugar with a chunk of butter, creating a thick, sweet paste that smelled incredible. "The way my mom makes it," Elise whispered, leaning closer, "we add nutmeg and ginger. I guess this recipe is more traditional." "Your mom''s version sounds better," Zeke whispered back, still stirring the mixture. When the filling base was complete, Ericka directed them to the next step: making the crust. "Now, I know you''re all expert bread makers after our first class," she called out with a smile, "but pie crust is an entirely different skill. Watch carefully!" She demonstrated the technique, pouring flour onto the workspace, adding cold butter, and then - to Zeke''s surprise - using a knife to cut the butter into the flour rather than mixing it. "This seems backwards," Zeke muttered as he tried to follow along. "Why not just mix it all together?" "The butter needs to stay cold and in little pieces," Elise explained. "That''s what makes the crust flaky. If you mix it too much, it gets tough." Zeke attacked the task with enthusiasm, chopping at the mixture with more energy than precision. Despite his best efforts, his arms - hardened from weeks of weapon training - began to burn from the unfamiliar motion. "Like this?" he asked, showing Elise his progress. "Almost," she encouraged. "Just a bit more... there, that''s perfect!" He handed the bowl to Elise, who added ice water, quickly forming the mixture into a ball of dough. She dusted the workspace with flour and began to roll out the dough before Ericka had even announced that step. "And now we''ll begin to roll the dough!" Ericka called out. Elise froze mid-roll, her cheeks flushing. "Oops. I''m getting ahead of the lesson." "Show-off," Zeke teased, nudging her with his elbow. Elise continued rolling, creating a large rectangle that she then trimmed to size. She gathered the scraps, rolled them out again, and cut the dough in half. With surprising dexterity, she draped one half over their pie tin, the pastry settling perfectly into place. "That''s amazing," Zeke said, genuinely impressed. "How many pies have you made?" "Hundreds, probably," Elise replied with a modest shrug. "It becomes second nature after a while." "Ahem." They looked up to find Ericka standing across from them, one eyebrow raised as she observed Elise''s already-perfect crust. "Hello," Elise said sheepishly, giving a small wave. "You seem to know this recipe better than I do," Ericka commented, arms crossed. "Maybe a little?" Elise winced. Ericka''s stern expression melted into a smile. "I''m just teasing. Think you can finish on your own?" Elise nodded enthusiastically. "Then go for it. I''ll check back in a few minutes." When Ericka moved on, Elise turned to Zeke with excitement. "Now for the fun part - chopping the apples!" Zeke picked up one of the apples and a nearby knife. He placed the fruit on the cutting board and sliced through it with a firm stroke. "Like this?" "Almost," Elise replied with a mysterious smile. She gathered the remaining nine apples and arranged them in a neat row. Holding the knife above them, she tapped the first apple with just the lightest touch. WHOMP! In an instant, all nine apples fell apart into perfect, even slices, their cores still standing upright like little trees. The slices fanned out like flower petals, perfectly arranged. Zeke''s jaw dropped. "You can do that?!" "Just another little trick I picked up," Elise said, trying and failing to look nonchalant. "That''s not a ''little trick'' - that''s incredible!" Zeke exclaimed, examining the perfectly cut slices. "I''ve never seen anything like it. Could you show me again? Wait, we don''t have any more apples..." "Psst," came a whisper from the next table. A student leaned over, gesturing to their untouched apples. "Could you do that for us too?" Elise''s face brightened. "With pleasure." She moved to their table and, with another light tap, transformed their whole apples into perfect slices. Word spread quickly, and soon Elise was making her way around the room, performing her apple-cutting magic for delighted classmates. Students laughed and applauded with each demonstration, and Ericka watched with amazement, scribbling notes in a small book. Zeke leaned against their workstation, watching Elise with a proud smile. She was usually so shy about her commoner background, but here, in her element, she shone. Everyone was seeing what he already knew - that Elise was extraordinary. When she completed her circuit of the room, Ericka addressed the class again. "Well, since that step has been completed for us so... efficiently," she said with an appreciative nod toward Elise, "let''s move on! Please mix your apple slices with the sugar mixture." Elise hurried back to their station, her cheeks pink from all the attention. "I didn''t mean to take over the class," she whispered to Zeke. "Are you kidding? That was amazing!" he replied. "Everyone loved it. Look at Ericka - I think she''s already planning to recruit you as her assistant." They mixed their apple slices with the sugar filling and poured everything into the waiting pie crust. While most students simply laid the second piece of dough over the top, Elise had different plans. She cut the remaining dough into thin strips and began weaving them into an intricate lattice pattern. "That looks complicated," Zeke observed, watching her fingers move with practiced precision. "Not really, once you know the pattern," Elise replied. "Over, under, over, under - just like basket weaving." The finished lattice was beautiful, far more impressive than the solid tops on the other pies. Ericka came by again to admire their work before directing everyone to place their pies in the ovens. With their creation baking, Zeke and Elise sat back at their station to wait. "Did you make pies with your mother often?" Zeke asked. "Here and there," Elise nodded. "Not every week or anything, and of course in winter it wasn''t possible without fresh fruit." A nostalgic smile crossed her face. "I remember waiting all spring for the berries to ripen. There was a bush not far from our house - it never had enough berries to make anything with, but it showed us when the others in the forest would be ready." She leaned forward, eyes bright with the memory. "I''d run out every morning to check on it, from the first moment I spotted leaf buds. My mom would come look and say, ''No, not yet,'' and I''d be so disappointed! But I''d go right back out the next day, and the next, until finally she''d pick a berry, taste it, and declare it was time." "That sounds wonderful," Zeke said, imagining little Elise checking her berry bush day after day. "It was. The waiting was terrible, but that just made the joy greater when the time finally came," she sighed contentedly. "This was nice. Thank you for coming." "Excuse me," Ericka approached, notebook in hand. "I couldn''t help overhearing. Would you be willing to share more stories about rural cooking traditions sometime? I''m fascinated by regional techniques." "Sure!" Elise agreed readily. After a moment, she bit her lip thoughtfully. "What are we making in the next class?" "I was planning on cakes," Ericka replied. Elise''s eyes lit up. "You should have us make pizza instead!" "Pizza?" Ericka frowned. "What''s that?" "It''s a dish from way out east, from another country," Elise explained excitedly, bouncing slightly on her stool. "Every village has their own version of it. I could meet with you before next class to explain the details!" While Elise and Ericka discussed the merits of this mysterious "pizza," the smell of baking pies filled the room. Zeke inhaled deeply, enjoying the sweet, cinnamony aroma. He hadn''t expected to find so much joy in something as simple as baking, but there was something deeply satisfying about creating food with his own hands. Soon the timer chimed, and Ericka directed everyone to remove their pies from the ovens. Elise slipped on thick cloth mitts and carefully extracted their creation. The lattice top had browned perfectly, and bubbling apple filling peeked through the gaps. "That smells incredible," Zeke said as Elise set the hot pie on a cooling rack. "Just wait until you taste it," she promised. After the pies had cooled slightly, Ericka provided small plates and forks, and everyone eagerly cut into their creations. Zeke watched as Elise sliced a perfect wedge from their pie, the filling still steaming as she transferred it to his plate. "Moment of truth," she said, watching expectantly as he took his first bite. The flavor was incredible - sweet, tart, buttery, and warm all at once. Zeke closed his eyes, savoring the taste. "This," he declared after swallowing, "is the best thing I''ve ever eaten." Elise beamed with pride. "Better than the castle kitchen''s desserts?" "A hundred times better," Zeke confirmed, already taking another bite. "We should open a pie shop if this whole ''saving House Godfrey'' thing doesn''t work out." Elise laughed, her eyes crinkling with delight. "I''ll hold you to that." As they enjoyed their pie, other students stopped by to compliment their creation and ask Elise for tips. She answered each question with growing confidence, no longer the shy commoner but an expert in her element. When the class ended, Ericka announced that the next session would indeed feature Elise''s suggested dish - pizza. Excited chatter filled the room as students packed up their supplies and wrapped leftover pie slices to take with them. "Can you believe it?" Elise said as they headed back toward the dormitories. "They''re actually going to learn to make pizza because of me!" "Of course they are," Zeke replied, carrying their wrapped pie pieces. "You clearly know more about cooking than anyone else here. Ericka would be crazy not to take your suggestions." Elise practically skipped down the hallway, enthusiasm overriding her usual reserve. "Wait until you try pizza - it''s completely different from anything you''ve had before. The dough is flat and crispy, and you put cheese and tomatoes and herbs on top, and sometimes meats or vegetables..." Zeke listened to her excited description, caught up in her happiness. Despite his exhaustion from the day''s training, he felt rejuvenated by the evening''s activities. There was something special about learning skills that had nothing to do with combat or politics - something purely for enjoyment. "Next class can''t come soon enough," he said as they reached the staircase where they would part ways. "Save me a spot at your workstation?" "Always," Elise promised, taking her share of the pie. "Get some rest, Zeke. You still look tired." "Worth it," he replied with a grin. "See you tomorrow!" As he climbed the stairs back to his tower, Zeke realized he was already looking forward to the next cooking class almost as much as he anticipated his weapon training. Perhaps, he thought, becoming a true knight meant more than just mastering swords and spears - it meant embracing all kinds of knowledge, even the sweet art of baking pies. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [The Devil You Don''t: Speak with Headmistress Florence about the Third Trial] [Return to Base: Head back to your dorm room] 26. Right Thing [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 12] [Date: November 25, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] Zeke took the tower stairs two at a time, his boots barely touching the worn stone as he bounded upward. The spiral staircase to the Headmistress''s office seemed to stretch forever, each turn revealing yet another flight. Any normal student might have been winded halfway up, but weeks of intense training had built Zeke''s endurance. Still, it wasn''t the climb that had his heart racing - it was the meeting ahead. Headmistress Florence had made her dislike painfully obvious during his first two Trials. Now he needed to request the third one from a woman who''d clearly prefer to see him fail. "No point putting it off," he muttered to himself with a determined grin. "Let''s see what she''s got planned this time." When he finally reached the imposing double doors of her office, he paused to straighten his uniform and catch his breath. The doors towered over him, dark oak carved with scenes of ancient battles. He rapped firmly three times. BROOOOOOM! The doors swung inward of their own accord, as if pushed by invisible hands. Zeke stepped into the cavernous office, his footsteps echoing across the stone floor. Headmistress Florence sat behind her massive desk, thin fingers steepled before her face. The severed head in its jar seemed to watch him as he approached. "You''re five minutes late," she snapped, not bothering with a greeting. "Just finished Aura Training with Professor Harold," Zeke replied easily. "He ran long today and I came straight here the moment he dismissed us." It wasn''t an apology - just a statement of fact. Victoria had been teaching him that in noble circles, excessive apologizing was seen as weakness. "I see." Headmistress Florence''s lips thinned further, if that was possible. "Well, you requested this meeting. What can I do for you?" "I''d like to set up the Third Trial," Zeke said, meeting her gaze directly. "I know you''re busy, but I''m eager to keep moving forward." Something flickered behind her eyes - surprise, perhaps? Or annoyance? "Ah. I see." Her long fingers tapped methodically against the polished wood of her desk. "I was merely contemplating the Trial at hand. It is the final of the introductory trials, and among the more unique ones. I presume that Adrian de''Levayne will want to moderate it again, as he''s quite qualified for it, but..." She paused, studying Zeke''s reaction. "I also believe a second moderator should be called upon. Perhaps Professor Gerald?" There it was - the threat, thinly veiled. Professor Gerald had been harder on Zeke than any other student since their first disastrous Aura class. Having him judge the Trial would be like asking a wolf to fairly evaluate a rabbit. Zeke grinned. "That works for me. Professor Gerald knows his stuff, and he definitely won''t give me any special treatment." The Headmistress''s eyebrows rose slightly, clearly not expecting his easy acceptance. "Then I''m glad we''re in agreement," she said, turning to study a calendar on the wall. "I believe we shall set the date for... January 25th. You are dismissed." Zeke didn''t move. "That''s two months away." Her head snapped back toward him, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Do you dare question me? If I allowed you to simply take all 34 Trials right now, do you think that would make you a warrior? The 34 Trials are designed to test you, not forge you. You are a student here at Leoncrest first and foremost. Do not forget it." "You''re right," Zeke said, nodding thoughtfully. "More training time means a better chance to succeed. January 25th it is." He paused, then added, "Will you give me the specific time and place now, or should I look for correspondence closer to the date?" It was a strategic question. Without pinning her down, he might show up on January 25th only to be told he''d missed the Trial entirely. "I will send out a letter no later than January 13th, once I have finalized the plans," she answered after a moment. "You are dismissed." Zeke rose from his chair and turned toward the door, already planning how to make the most of the extra training time. Two months might actually be exactly what he needed to master the Aura techniques Professor Harold had been teaching him. "Oh. One moment." He paused, turning back toward the Headmistress. Something in her voice had changed - a new sharpness that put him instantly on guard. "I was wondering if you know who the knight was, the one who tested you back in the Second Trial." The question seemed casual, but Zeke knew better. Constantine had whispered to him during that Trial, and now the Headmistress was fishing for information. He chose his words carefully. "During the fight, he mentioned that he commanded the most respected unit of soldiers in the Capital," Zeke answered. "I wrote to my father about it, and he gave me a name - Constantine? I don''t know much more than that." It wasn''t a lie. He had written to his father, though neither his father nor Artax had shared much in their replies beyond confirming Constantine had indeed taken over Artax''s old command. "Are you aware that he was in command of the same unit your brother formerly ran?" the Headmistress asked, her eyes never leaving Zeke''s face. "What do you mean, ''was in command''?" Zeke asked, instantly alert. "That''s what I meant to mention," she leaned forward, her voice dropping. "He was killed on his way back from the Academy to the Capital. Bandits struck his carriage as it crossed a bridge. The horses panicked, and the whole thing went over the edge before he even had a chance to draw his weapon. A terrible loss." Her eyes gleamed with something that might have been satisfaction. "Why are you telling me this?" Zeke asked, keeping his face neutral despite the chill running down his spine. "Well, he used to know your brother," she shrugged with mock sympathy. "I simply thought it might be worth writing back to tell him. Perhaps he cared about his old friend." The message couldn''t have been clearer if she''d written it out: They knew Constantine had spoken to Zeke, but not what he''d said. And now Constantine was dead because of it. "I''ll write to Artax and let him know," Zeke said evenly. "I''m sure he''ll be grieved." With that, he turned and walked out, his mind racing. The doors slammed shut behind him with an ominous boom. As he descended the tower stairs, Constantine''s warning echoed in his mind: "Beware the Court." What court? The Imperial Court? The Senate? Or something else entirely? His feet carried him automatically toward the library. If anyone knew what "the Court" might refer to, it would be Adrian. The old librarian seemed to know everything about everyone at Leoncrest. The library was quieter than usual when he arrived, with only a few students hurriedly finishing their work before curfew. The usual soft murmur of voices was absent, making his footsteps sound unnaturally loud on the polished floor. Zeke scanned the main chamber but saw no sign of Adrian''s familiar figure moving among the shelves. Strange. The old librarian was usually present until the last student left. "If it isn''t the wonder child himself." Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Zeke turned to find Diocletian leaning against a bookshelf, arms crossed and a familiar sneer on his face. Unlike usual, he was alone - no sycophantic followers trailing behind him. "Evening, Diocletian," Zeke replied cheerfully. "I''m not looking for trouble, just Adrian." "Then you''re wasting your time. He''s not here." Diocletian sighed dramatically. "I''ve been looking for him too. I need his help with this history project I''m working on, and I find it very annoying that he isn''t present at this time to assist me. Isn''t that his job?" "Strictly speaking, no," Zeke corrected. "He just happens to be willing to help us in his free time." "Well, you can call it what you will," Diocletian sniffed. "I say all the professors are here to help us achieve greatness, and if they''re not even willing to show up, I''m not sure what I can reasonably be expected to do about it." He paused, a strange gleam entering his eyes. "I don''t suppose you''d want to help me look for him? Perhaps he''s simply deeper in the library. I''ve heard this place has some rather hidden locations." Every instinct in Zeke''s body screamed danger. Diocletian had never voluntarily sought his company before, and the idea that he would now want to explore the library together was suspicious at best. The smart move would be to politely decline and leave. But then again, where was the fun in that? "Sure, why not?" Zeke shrugged with a grin. "I''ve got time before curfew." If Diocletian was planning something, Zeke was curious to find out what. Besides, after weeks of training with Victoria and Ingrid, he was confident in his ability to handle whatever the other boy might try. They began walking through the library, ostensibly searching for Adrian but really watching each other from the corners of their eyes. They passed the enormous wall-mounted shelves and the small study alcoves where a few desperate students frantically flipped through pages, racing against the ticking clock on the wall. As they reached the back of the library, Zeke spotted a narrow gap between a stone pillar and a tall bookcase. He remembered Adrian mentioning hidden study chambers that most students never noticed. "Hey, what about right there?" he suggested, pointing to the gap. Diocletian nodded a bit too eagerly, and they approached. The opening was so narrow that Zeke had to turn sideways to squeeze through. Inside was a small room no larger than a coach cabin, with a round table in the center surrounded by benches - the perfect spot for private study, completely isolated from the rest of the library. "Huh, this is actually pretty cool," Zeke remarked, genuinely impressed despite his suspicion. He''d have to remember this spot for future study sessions. The soft scrape of steel against leather was his only warning. Zeke spun around as Diocletian lunged forward, a dagger in his hand. Reacting on pure instinct, Zeke drew his own sword with lightning speed, deflecting the thrust upward. The clash of metal echoed in the small space. Diocletian''s eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting such a quick response. Before he could recover, Zeke''s fist connected solidly with his jaw. The blow sent Diocletian sprawling backward onto one of the benches. He groaned, sliding down to the floor, his dagger clattering away. "Did you really think I was going to fall for that?" Zeke asked, shaking his head. Diocletian growled, pushing himself up from the floor. Zeke didn''t give him the chance to regain his footing - a second punch sent him back down. "Stay down if you know what''s good for you," Zeke advised, backing toward the exit. As he slipped out of the alcove, a mischievous idea struck him. The small movable bookshelf nearby was exactly the right size to cover the gap. With a grunt, Zeke pushed it across the opening, completely blocking the entrance to the study nook. "That ought to teach you something," he said, admiring his handiwork. A glance at the wall clock showed it was nearly curfew. "The bookcase will keep the gargoyles out, so you''ll be safe enough. Someone will find you in the morning." He could hear Diocletian''s muffled shouts and banging from inside, but the thick bookcase effectively contained both the noise and the angry student. Zeke considered for a moment - maybe trapping Diocletian was a bit extreme? But then again, the boy had just tried to stab him. A night in the library seemed like a fair trade. "Think of it as extra study time!" Zeke called cheerfully through the bookcase before turning away. He hurried through the now-empty library, the last few students having departed. The gargoyles would be roaming the halls soon, and he needed to get back to his dorm. He jogged across the main hall and started up the long flight of stairs to the residential tower. He was about halfway up when he heard the telltale creaking of windows opening throughout the castle. "Not yet!" Zeke muttered, breaking into a full sprint. Heavy stone feet thumped in the hallway above, and a gargoyle''s head appeared at the top of the staircase, its eyes gleaming in the darkness. "Naughty student, out past curfew!" it growled. "Just running a bit late!" Zeke called back, racing up the remaining steps. The gargoyle lunged forward, stone claws extended, but Zeke ducked under its reach and bolted down the corridor toward his room. He could hear more gargoyles converging from other hallways, their heavy footsteps echoing on the stone floors. Skidding to a stop in front of his door, Zeke yanked it open, dove inside, and slammed it shut just as a gargoyle rounded the corner. "I guess that''s that," the monster grumbled from the other side, claws scratching briefly at the wood. "He got away. Stupid student. I was hungry." Stone footsteps thumped away down the hall. Zeke leaned against the door, heart pounding from the chase and a wide grin splitting his face. Nothing like a little danger to get the blood flowing. "Cutting it awfully close, aren''t we?" Ralph commented from his desk, where he was polishing what looked like a small throwing knife. "Had a study session in the library," Zeke replied, flopping onto his bed. "Lost track of time." "Uh-huh," Ralph said skeptically. "And I suppose that''s why you''re grinning like you just pulled off the heist of the century?" "Maybe I did," Zeke laughed. "Let''s just say Diocletian will be spending some quality time with the books tonight." Ralph raised an eyebrow. "Do I want to know?" "Probably not," Zeke admitted. "Though I bet the whole Academy will be talking about it by breakfast tomorrow." As night fell over Leoncrest, Zeke stared out the window at the stars appearing one by one. Constantine''s warning still echoed in his mind, now given new weight by the Headmistress''s thinly veiled threat. Beware the Court. Whatever it was, someone had died for mentioning it to him. The Third Trial was now two months away - time he would use not just for training, but for finding answers. Adrian had been mysteriously absent from the library, which was unusual in itself. Tomorrow, Zeke would seek him out, along with uncovering whatever this mysterious "Court" might be. As he drifted toward sleep, his mind replayed the confrontation with Diocletian. The other boy had actually tried to kill him - or at least seriously harm him. The stakes at Leoncrest were clearly higher than simple academic competition. He''d have to watch his back more carefully from now on. But rather than feeling afraid, Zeke felt a strange excitement building. Danger meant he was getting closer to whatever secrets surrounded House Godfrey''s fall from grace. And if there was one thing Zeke loved more than a good fight, it was a good mystery. The next morning, Zeke woke earlier than usual, slipping out of the room before Ralph had even stirred. He needed to check if Adrian had returned to the library, and frankly, he wasn''t in a hurry to face Diocletian''s wrath after a night trapped in the study alcove. The castle was peaceful in the pre-dawn hours. A few servants moved silently through the corridors, lighting lamps and preparing for the day, but most students were still asleep. Zeke nodded to a groundskeeper as he took a shortcut through the eastern courtyard, frost crunching beneath his boots. When he reached the library, he was surprised to find the massive oak doors already open. Inside, oil lamps cast a warm glow over the reading tables, and the smell of fresh bread wafted through the air - someone had brought breakfast to the library staff. Adrian stood near the center of the room, directing two younger assistants who were reshelving books from a cart. He looked tired but otherwise unharmed, much to Zeke''s relief. "You''re up early," Adrian remarked as Zeke approached. "Eager to start your studies?" "Looking for you, actually," Zeke replied. "I came by last night, but you weren''t here." "Ah, yes," Adrian nodded, his expression growing serious. "I was called away on urgent business. Something that couldn''t wait, I''m afraid." Before Zeke could ask for details, a commotion at the library entrance drew their attention. Professor Harkin, the stern history instructor, strode in with Diocletian trailing behind him, looking disheveled and furious. "There!" Diocletian shouted, pointing directly at Zeke. "That''s him! He trapped me in that alcove all night!" Professor Harkin turned to Zeke with a disapproving frown. "Is this true, de''Godfrey?" Zeke met the professor''s gaze steadily. "It is, sir. But only after he tried to stab me." "That''s a lie!" Diocletian protested, his face reddening. "I was simply showing him a historical artifact - a ceremonial dagger - when he attacked me without provocation!" Adrian stepped forward, his eyebrows raised. "A ceremonial dagger? From my library? I don''t recall giving you permission to handle any of the artifacts, Diocletian." "Well, I..." Diocletian faltered, realizing his mistake. "Furthermore," Adrian continued, "might I ask why you needed to show this supposed artifact in one of the most secluded corners of the library, rather than at a proper reading table?" Diocletian''s mouth opened and closed silently as he searched for an explanation. Professor Harkin sighed heavily. "Both of you, come with me. The Headmistress will need to sort this out." "Actually," Adrian interjected smoothly, "as this incident occurred within the library, it falls under my jurisdiction. I believe I can handle this matter without troubling the Headmistress." The history professor hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "Very well. But I expect a full report." After Professor Harkin departed, Adrian turned to the two boys. "Diocletian, you will report to Professor Merton for detention every evening this week. Attempting to remove historical artifacts from the library is a serious offense." "But I didn''t-" Diocletian began. "Unless you''d prefer I mention the knife to the Headmistress?" Adrian suggested mildly. Diocletian''s mouth snapped shut, and he glared venomously at Zeke before stalking off toward the exit. "As for you," Adrian continued, turning to Zeke, "while self-defense is understandable, trapping another student overnight was excessive. You''ll assist me in the library for three evenings this week." Zeke nodded, accepting the punishment without complaint. "Thank you." Once Diocletian was gone and the library assistants had moved out of earshot, Adrian''s expression grew grave. "Now, what was so urgent that you sought me out last night?" "Constantine," Zeke said quietly. "The knight from my Second Trial. He''s dead." Adrian''s face remained carefully neutral, but Zeke noticed his hands tighten slightly on the book he was holding. "How did you come by this information?" "Headmistress Florence told me yesterday. She said his carriage went off a bridge on the way back to the Capital." Zeke leaned closer, lowering his voice further. "She made it sound like an accident, but the way she told me... I don''t think it was." "I see." Adrian carefully placed the book on a nearby shelf. "And you''re telling me this because...?" "Because Constantine told me something during the Trial. He said to ''beware the Court.'' I need to know what that means." Adrian went very still, his eyes darting briefly to the library''s far corners as if checking for eavesdroppers. "Not here," he said finally. "Meet me in the east wing observatory tonight, after your last class. Come alone, and make sure you''re not followed." The urgency in the old librarian''s voice confirmed Zeke''s suspicions - whatever this "Court" was, it was dangerous enough to make even Adrian cautious. "I''ll be there," Zeke promised. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [Court of Intrigue: Figure out what sort of Court that Constantine was talking about] [Guilty Conscience (Optional): Apologize to Diocletian. Or don''t] [Secret Meeting: Meet Adrian in the east wing observatory] 27. Depend On [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 7] [Date: November 30, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] Winter''s first breath swept across Leoncrest Academy. The grounds transformed as autumn retreated - trees shed their colorful cloaks, morning frost painted the courtyards silver, and students hurried between buildings with collars turned up against the biting wind. Zeke bounded up the winding staircase of Tower 7, taking the steps two at a time despite the burning in his legs from that morning''s training session. Outside, wind howled around the stone towers, rattling the windows and promising snow before nightfall. "Perfect weather for Aura practice," he grinned to himself, pausing at a window to survey the Academy grounds far below. The view was spectacular - forest trees bending in the wind, their nearly bare branches swaying, while dark clouds gathered on the horizon. Leaves swirled through the air in crimson and gold spirals, creating what looked like tiny whirlwinds across the courtyard. His packed training schedule had barely given him time to appreciate the changing seasons. Victoria had moved her morning sword classes to an inner courtyard, competing with other outdoor activities for limited space. The cramped conditions hadn''t dampened his enthusiasm one bit - if anything, working in close quarters had improved his precision. His lunchtime weapons training continued without fail, and under Ingrid''s instruction, he''d become surprisingly proficient with a sling. "Never know when you''ll need to knock someone out from a hundred paces," she''d told him after he''d finally hit the bullseye three times in a row. He wasn''t a master of any particular weapon yet, but he could now pick up almost anything - mace, shield, bow, spear - and wield it with basic competence. Progress was progress, and Zeke was determined to keep pushing forward. Reaching Professor Harold''s door, he knocked firmly. The heavy oak swung open silently, revealing the austere office beyond. "Come in, come on," Professor Harold called from behind his desk, not bothering to look up from the stack of papers he was grading. "Are you ready for today''s lesson?" "Always ready," Zeke replied cheerfully, dropping into the chair across from his instructor. The door swung shut behind him with a soft click. "We''re working with liquids today, right?" "Yes, indeed." Professor Harold turned and pulled a cup from a shelf behind him, setting it carefully on the desk between them. He lifted his hand as if to begin, then paused, his expression shifting to something less academic and more... calculating. "Oh, by the way," he said in what seemed like a casual afterthought but was clearly rehearsed, "I thought you would want to know that your father came through. I just received word yesterday that all has come to pass as I knew it would. You''ve done House Hobbson a great favor." Zeke''s eyes narrowed slightly. "Regarding the Greenmeadow Province?" "Yes," Professor Harold nodded, a hint of satisfaction in his usually stern face. "You remember what I asked your father to do, correct?" "Direct the Senate''s attention to a series of hidden documents," Zeke confirmed, watching the professor carefully. "Precisely. Well, I received word some time ago that the injunction had been filed, and just yesterday, I learned the new documents had been located." A small smile played at the corners of his thin lips. "The Greenmeadow Province has now been transferred from House Minziar to House Hobbson. I''ve already drawn up a contract that should benefit House Godfrey, in gratitude for helping correct this gross injustice." So that had been the play all along. The "missing documents" hadn''t simply proven the province wasn''t Minziar''s - they''d conveniently shown it belonged to House Hobbson instead. Zeke might have been new to politics, but he wasn''t naive. This was how the game was played - favors traded, alliances formed, all wrapped in the language of "justice" and "rightful ownership." Rather than showing disappointment at being used as a pawn, Zeke grinned. One more powerful house in their corner was exactly what the Godfreys needed right now. "Glad I could help restore the proper order of things," he said with just enough sincerity to make it believable. "House Godfrey appreciates friends who know the value of historical accuracy." Something like respect flickered in the professor''s eyes. "And I am glad our houses have had this opportunity to grow closer. If House Godfrey truly is in ascension once again, I hope you''ll remember the friends who helped you get there." He raised an eyebrow, then turned back to the cup on his desk. "Now, let us get down to business. Do you know what this is?" Zeke leaned forward, studying the dark liquid. "Coffee?" "No," Professor Harold shook his head. "It is a liquid formed by grinding iron into an extremely fine powder, then mixing with water and a binding agent. It could technically be consumed without ill effects beyond an upset stomach, and is indeed used in medicine throughout the land." "Really?" Zeke''s curiosity was piqued. "What''s it for?" "The iron in the drink becomes absorbed into the blood," Professor Harold explained, warming to his subject. "Healing mages can then use the iron to focus their aura, allowing them to cast healing spells far more powerful than would otherwise be possible. The school of thought is relatively new but shows tremendous promise." His eyes took on an enthusiastic gleam rarely seen in his usually severe demeanor. "I''ve been on the cutting edge of this research since the possibility was first discovered. In fact, I was in my final years at the Academy when Professor Logan de''Faure first proposed it. I conducted my senior experiments on animals that had consumed the material. It has served as the foundation for much of my work here and continues to be the focus of my teaching and research." "That''s brilliant," Zeke said, genuinely fascinated. He leaned closer to examine the liquid. "I never realized aura could be channeled through the body like that." "You won''t find anything about it in Aura Theory until you reach level five," Professor Harold replied with a hint of pride. "The Headmistress doesn''t approve of teaching such recent developments. She believes traditions should be mastered before innovations are introduced." He waved his hand dismissively. "In any case, that''s not the point of today''s lesson." The professor raised his hand over the cup, and for a brief second, the air seemed to shimmer around his fingers. The liquid within began to quiver, then rose out of the cup and onto the desk, where it pooled briefly before rising upright to form a small humanoid figure. At first, the shape was rough and uneven, looking more like a hastily molded clay figure than a person. But as Professor Harold maintained his concentration, the features sharpened until a perfect miniature copy of the professor stood on the desk, looking up at Zeke with tiny liquid eyes. The figure bowed deeply, then leapt back into the cup, returning to its formless state. "Incredible!" Zeke exclaimed, eyes wide with appreciation. "How long did it take you to master that?" "Years of practice," Professor Harold replied, allowing himself a small smile. "You likely won''t see this again until you reach advanced Aura Theory - which, I''ll note, I do teach." He gestured toward the cup. "Now, try to infuse your aura into it. I''d like to see what you''re capable of." Zeke nodded eagerly, reaching out to touch the cup. He hadn''t yet mastered the ability to infuse objects without physical contact. Light flashed through the cup as his aura entered it, causing the vessel to rattle on the desk. "Come on..." he muttered, focusing his energy. The liquid inside jumped and swirled around... before bursting explosively out of the cup. The dark mixture sprayed across the room, splattering Zeke''s face and dousing several stacks of Professor Harold''s books. Zeke sat frozen in momentary horror before a laugh escaped him. "Well, that was dramatic!" Professor Harold''s lips twitched in what might almost have been amusement. "Believe it or not, I''ve seen far worse from people on their first attempt." He lifted a finger, and droplets rose from every surface they had struck, floating through the air to reform a single blob that settled back into the cup. "You obviously reached out to touch the cup," the professor observed, "which means you still require physical contact. Have you been able to master infusing your aura into a second-contact item? Can you infuse your aura into something that''s touching what you''re touching?" Zeke shook his head. "No, I haven''t practiced that yet." "Hmm." Professor Harold stroked his chin, considering. "While I cannot reveal the details of the next Trial... that may be a problem we need to address. I hadn''t considered it before. Still, working with this liquid may be the best way to prepare you." "You think so?" Zeke asked, already eager to try again. "If you can master this, you should be able to master doing it with solids," Professor Harold explained, folding his hands. His willingness to help had noticeably increased since Zeke had proven useful to House Hobbson. "Liquid is more difficult to control, making it excellent practice." Zeke threw himself into the task with enthusiasm. Second-contact infusion was incredibly difficult - he had to force his aura through the cup, then pass it into the liquid, then withdraw it from the cup while maintaining control of the liquid. It was a crucial stepping stone toward infusing objects without physical contact at all, a skill most professors used effortlessly to manipulate items around their classrooms. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "Alright," he murmured after several failed attempts, carefully channeling his aura from the cup into the liquid. "Let''s¡ª" FOOM! The liquid exploded upward, splattering across the ceiling. "One more go," he said, undeterred as Professor Harold reformed the liquid. This time, the surface quivered as his aura entered it. A few droplets bounced up, but the surface stayed relatively steady. "And¡ª" FOOM! "Come on, come on," he urged himself, trying again. This time, as his aura filled the liquid, the surface remained still. A smile spread across his face as he began to withdraw his energy from the cup. SPLAT! The liquid shot into the air, paused at the apex of its trajectory, then flew sideways to crash against the door. The thick mixture dripped down to the floor, forming a small puddle. "Sorry about that," Zeke said, though he was already looking forward to his next attempt. "Nothing to be sorry about," Professor Harold assured him, waving away the apology. "You''ve never had to do this before, and I''m starting you at the difficult end of the scale. Just keep at it." They continued practicing for another half hour. The professor''s office began to resemble a battlefield, with dark splatters marking the ceiling, walls, and floor despite Harold''s efforts to contain the mess. Finally, after what felt like his hundredth attempt, Zeke managed to transfer his aura fully into the liquid while withdrawing it completely from the cup. The liquid hovered, trembling slightly, for three precious seconds before exploding once again. "Yes!" Zeke punched the air triumphantly. Three seconds might not seem like much, but it was a breakthrough. "Excellent!" Professor Harold beamed, crossing his arms. "See? By the end of the week, you''ll be almost proficient. It''s no easy task, not by a long shot." Zeke stood, stretching his arms overhead to work out the stiffness from such intense concentration. "Thank you for the lesson." "No, thank you, de''Godfrey," the professor replied with unusual warmth. "You''ve proven there''s still good in House Godfrey, and I''m pleased to be your tutor in this matter." He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small scroll sealed with the emblem of House Hobbson - a crown above two crossed swords. "Here, take this, but don''t open it until you''re in your dorm room. Consider it a token of our appreciation." Zeke accepted the scroll with a bow of his head. "I look forward to more lessons." As he headed back to his dormitory, the scroll tucked safely in his jacket, Zeke found himself whistling despite his exhaustion. The windows were just beginning to open for the nightly gargoyle patrol as he slipped inside Tower 1 and bounded up the stairs to his room. Ralph was absent, likely visiting friends, which suited Zeke fine. He settled onto his bed and broke the wax seal on the scroll, unrolling it carefully. "To Zeke de''Godfrey, and by extension, the whole of House Godfrey," he read aloud to the empty room. "We wish to extend our heartfelt thanks for your assistance in the most recent matter of the Imperial Senate. It was done in good faith, and we wish to repay the kindness as best we can. For the time being, House Godfrey can consider House Hobbson a good ally in the Senate and upon the battlefield, in whatever matters may arise. If you ever need anything, please do not hesitate to call upon our services, and know that we will do likewise. To a long and fruitful partnership. Signed, Byron de''Hobbson, Patriarch of House Hobbson." Zeke''s jaw dropped as he read it a second time, then a third. They had just secured the alliance of House Hobbson! This was far more significant than he''d anticipated. Previously, their only reliable allies had been House Levayne and possibly House Arnette through Ralph. Now they had another powerful player in their corner. "Not bad for a kid who couldn''t even infuse a teacup properly," he chuckled to himself, carefully rolling the scroll back up. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He quickly tucked the scroll into his desk drawer before calling, "Come in!" Victoria pushed the door open, her training clothes replaced by the more formal red and gold attire she favored during evening hours. "There you are. I''ve been looking everywhere." "Just finished Aura training with Professor Harold," Zeke explained, gesturing for her to enter. "What''s up?" "There''s a rumor going around about Diocletian," she said, leaning against the doorframe. "Apparently, someone trapped him in the library overnight last week. You wouldn''t happen to know anything about that, would you?" Zeke''s expression remained innocent. "He tried to stab me in a hidden study alcove. Seemed only fair he spend some quality time with the books." Victoria shook her head, though a smile tugged at her lips. "You''re lucky you didn''t get caught. Speaking of which, I thought you should know he''s been watching you during training. Standing in the shadows, taking notes." "Really?" Zeke''s eyebrows rose. "Guess I made an impression." "More like you made an enemy," Victoria corrected. "Be careful. His family might not be as powerful as yours, but they have connections. And after that library incident, his pride is wounded." "I''ll keep an eye out," Zeke promised. "Thanks for the warning." Victoria nodded, then gestured toward the training yard visible through his window. "By the way, I''ve arranged for us to use the covered pavilion tomorrow morning. We''ll have more space, and it''s protected from the wind." "You''re the best," Zeke grinned. "Need me to bring anything special?" "Just yourself and that unusual ability to keep getting back up no matter how many times I knock you down," she replied with a small smile. "Rest well. Tomorrow won''t be easy." After she left, Zeke flopped back on his bed, mind racing despite his physical exhaustion. So much had happened in just one day - progress with his aura training, confirmation of a new alliance with House Hobbson, and now the news that Diocletian was plotting something. The Third Trial was still nearly two months away, giving him plenty of time to prepare, but also plenty of time for his enemies to scheme. He sat up suddenly, remembering Adrian''s warning about the Court. With everything else happening, he''d nearly forgotten to meet the librarian as promised. Leaping to his feet, Zeke grabbed his sword belt and buckled it on. The gargoyles would be patrolling, but he''d learned a few ways to avoid them over the past months. Slipping out into the corridor, Zeke moved silently toward the narrow service stairs at the far end of the hallway. Most students never noticed them, hidden as they were behind a tapestry, but Ralph had shown him the secret passage during their first week. The stone steps were steep and narrow, designed for servants rather than nobles, but they connected all the major towers without passing through the main hallways where gargoyles prowled. The passage was pitch black, but Zeke had brought a small stone that Professor Harold had taught him to infuse with light-generating aura. It cast just enough of a glow to illuminate the steps immediately ahead without attracting attention. As he descended through the hidden stairwell, Zeke''s mind wandered to the mysterious Court that Constantine had warned him about. Whatever it was, it had cost the knight his life, which meant it was something powerful and dangerous. The fact that Adrian had been so cautious about discussing it only underscored its importance. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Zeke pressed his ear against the hidden door, listening for the telltale sound of stone feet in the corridor beyond. Hearing nothing, he carefully pushed the panel open and slipped out behind a statue of some long-dead noble. The east wing observatory was located in a tower adjacent to the library, connected by a narrow covered bridge. During daylight hours, students used the glass-domed chamber for astronomical studies, but at night it was typically empty. Zeke made his way carefully through the shadowy hallways, freezing in place whenever he heard movement. Once, he had to press himself into an alcove as a gargoyle lumbered past, its stone head swiveling from side to side in search of rule-breakers. Only when its heavy footsteps had faded did he continue on his way. The observatory door was unlocked, as Adrian had promised. Zeke slipped inside, closing it silently behind him. The domed ceiling above was made entirely of glass panels, offering a spectacular view of the night sky. Stars glittered like diamonds on black velvet, and a half moon cast silvery light across the room''s circular floor. Adrian stood at the far side, gazing up at the stars through one of several brass telescopes positioned around the room. He turned as Zeke approached, his face grave in the moonlight. "You came," the old librarian said. "Good. We don''t have much time." "What is this Court that Constantine mentioned?" Zeke asked without preamble. "And why was he killed for telling me about it?" Adrian gestured toward a small table with two chairs. "Sit. This is not a simple explanation." Zeke took a seat, watching as Adrian pulled a small device from his pocket and placed it on the table. It looked like a child''s toy - a tiny silver bird with outstretched wings. "A detection charm," Adrian explained, noticing Zeke''s curious glance. "It will alert us if anyone approaches." He leaned forward, lowering his voice despite the precaution. "What I''m about to tell you is known to very few people at Leoncrest. Those who learn of it without permission tend to meet unfortunate ends." "Like Constantine," Zeke said grimly. "Precisely." Adrian nodded. "The Court he referred to is formally known as the Court of Owls, a secret society that has existed within the kingdom for centuries. Its members include some of the most powerful nobles, scholars, and military leaders - individuals who believe they should be the true rulers of the realm, operating from the shadows." Zeke frowned. "What do they want?" "Power, primarily," Adrian replied. "They manipulate events from behind the scenes, influencing succession, creating or resolving conflicts, all to further their own agenda. They''re patient and ruthless, willing to wait decades for their plans to come to fruition." "And they''re here at Leoncrest?" Adrian''s expression darkened. "Leoncrest is one of their primary recruitment grounds. They identify promising students with the right combination of talent and... flexibility of morals. Most initiates don''t even realize what they''re joining at first - they simply think they''ve been invited into an exclusive club for the elite." "Are you saying the Headmistress is involved?" Zeke asked, thinking of her reaction to Constantine''s death. "I can''t say with certainty," Adrian replied carefully. "But I believe so, yes. Her appointment was... unexpected. There were more qualified candidates, but they were passed over for reasons never fully explained." Zeke leaned back in his chair, processing this information. "What does this have to do with my brother? With House Godfrey?" Adrian hesitated. "Your brother was investigating them, though he didn''t know their true nature at first. He simply noticed strange patterns in how certain noble houses gained or lost power, how some military campaigns succeeded while others mysteriously failed despite having superior forces." "And they arranged his encounter with Socrax," Zeke concluded, the pieces falling into place. "It wasn''t an accident." "I believe so," Adrian nodded solemnly. "And now they''re watching you, especially since you began the Trials. Constantine recognized the danger and tried to warn you, but he wasn''t careful enough." "So what do I do?" Zeke asked. "If they''re as powerful as you say, how do I protect myself - protect my family?" "Knowledge is your first defense," Adrian replied. "Now that you know they exist, you can watch for their influence. Be careful who you trust. The Court recruits from all houses, so even traditional allies might be compromised." He reached into his robes and pulled out a small book bound in worn brown leather. "This journal contains what little information I''ve been able to safely gather about them over the years. Symbols they use, methods of communication, known recruitment tactics. Study it, but keep it hidden." Zeke accepted the book, tucking it inside his jacket. "Thank you." "There''s one more thing you should know," Adrian added, his voice dropping even lower. "The Third Trial. I believe it''s been specifically designed to test whether you might be... receptive to their approach." "They want to recruit me?" Zeke asked, surprised. "It''s possible," Adrian nodded. "A Godfrey would be a valuable addition to their ranks. If they can''t eliminate you, they may try to control you instead." The silver bird suddenly twitched on the table, its wings fluttering slightly. "Someone''s coming," Adrian whispered urgently. "Go, quickly. Use the service passage behind the star chart." Zeke rose, moving swiftly toward the indicated wall. Adrian''s hand on his arm stopped him briefly. "Be careful, Zeke. Trust no one completely - not even me. The Court has ways of compelling people to serve their interests." With that ominous warning, Adrian turned back to the telescope as if he''d been alone all evening. Zeke slipped behind the large star chart hanging on the wall, finding a narrow door hidden in the stone. He eased it open and disappeared inside just as the observatory door began to creak open. The service passage was pitch black, forcing Zeke to feel his way along the rough stone walls. His mind raced with everything Adrian had told him. A secret society operating within the kingdom''s highest circles, manipulating events, possibly responsible for his brother''s injury... and now watching him. By the time he made it back to his dormitory - slipping past a patrolling gargoyle by mere seconds - Zeke''s thoughts had settled into grim determination. If the Court of Owls was real, if they truly had targeted his family, then his duty was clear. He would continue the Trials, continue training, but with a new purpose beyond simply saving House Godfrey''s status. He would find out who in the Court had orchestrated his brother''s "accident" and ensure they paid for it. And if they thought they could recruit him in the process, they were gravely mistaken. As he lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, Zeke considered his growing collection of allies: Victoria and her combat expertise, Ingrid with her practical knowledge, Professor Harold and now House Hobbson''s political support, Adrian''s vast information network, and even Ralph''s genuine friendship. Against these, the shadowy Court of Owls didn''t seem quite so intimidating. Let them watch and scheme - he would be ready. His hand tightened around the small leather journal Adrian had given him. Tomorrow, he would start looking into it and try and learn everything he could about his hidden enemies. And the Court of Owls, for all their secrecy and power, had just become another challenge to conquer. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior Endurance [Active Quests:] [Court of Intrigue: Learn more about the Court of Owls] [Aura Mastery: Perfect second-contact infusion technique] 28. Winter Games [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Outer Courtyards] [Date: December 1, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] Frost crunched beneath Zeke''s boots as he jogged across the courtyard, his breath forming clouds in the frigid morning air. A bitter wind sliced through his training clothes, but he grinned as he pushed forward, keeping pace with the rest of Victoria''s early-morning training group. Around him, other students struggled against the cold, their faces pinched and miserable. "Keep moving!" Victoria called from the front of the pack, somehow managing to look perfectly comfortable despite the freezing temperature. "Cold is just another opponent to defeat!" Zeke picked up his pace, overtaking two shivering students. The wintery air burned his lungs, but he welcomed the challenge. Every obstacle conquered was one step closer to mastering the Trials. Besides, the bite of the cold kept him alert, his senses sharpened like the edge of a newly forged blade. The courtyard had transformed since autumn''s end. Frost glazed the stone paths, dead leaves skittered across the ground in the howling wind, and dark clouds hung low overhead, threatening snow before the day was through. The trees stood as bare sentinels along the castle walls, their skeletal branches clawing at the sky. "Alright!" Victoria shouted over the wind, turning to face the group. "Stop and duel!" Zeke skidded to a halt, spinning around to seek an opponent. The student next to him - a tall boy from House Byron who''d become something of a regular sparring partner - raised his sword with stiff, frozen fingers. Without hesitation, Zeke drew his own blade and struck. According to Victoria''s rules, they weren''t trying to disarm each other - just practicing how to transition from running to combat in challenging conditions. Their blades clashed with a satisfying ring that carried across the empty courtyard. Zeke parried a thrust, countered with a slash that was neatly blocked, then stepped back to avoid a sweeping blow. Despite the cold numbing his fingers, he maintained his grip, using the techniques Victoria had drilled into him over months of training. "That''s enough!" Victoria called after a few exchanges. "On the road again!" The group groaned collectively but turned and continued their run. Zeke shot his sparring partner a quick grin before picking up speed, his legs pumping as they rounded the corner of the East Tower. Though winter hadn''t officially arrived, the weather seemed eager for the change of seasons. The piercing wind cut right through his clothes, and a light drizzle had begun to fall, threatening to turn to sleet at any moment. Victoria led them on three complete laps around the Academy grounds, calling periodic halts for more brief sparring matches. By the final lap, even Zeke''s seemingly endless reserves of energy were flagging. His muscles burned, his lungs ached from the cold air, and his fingers had gone numb around the hilt of his sword. Yet when Victoria glanced back at the struggling group, her eyes briefly meeting his, Zeke straightened his posture and put on a burst of speed. He wasn''t going to be the one to show weakness - not when he had so much to prove. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of running, Victoria led them back up the front steps and into the entrance hall. The blessed warmth of the castle washed over them as they gathered in a semi-circle, panting and stamping their feet. "Good work!" Victoria declared, surveying her exhausted students with something like pride. "I''m impressed with each of you. None of you could have managed anything like this when we started months ago. You''re all making excellent progress." She clasped her hands behind her back. "Now, go get warmed up!" As the group began to disperse, she raised her hand. "Oh! One more thing. As you''re trying to get warm, do not just rush over to the fires - at least not right away. Go back to your dorm rooms and change into dry, warm clothing first, then come back down. Give your bodies a chance to warm gradually. Do it too quickly, and you''ll only kill yourselves. Or, at the least, lose a finger or two." The students grumbled but nodded and trudged off toward their respective dormitories. Zeke paused as he passed Victoria, overhearing her mutter to herself. "Well... so you technically won''t die yet, but the weather will get much colder, and I''d like to get everyone in the habit of warming up slowly now before it does become an issue." Zeke laughed, and Victoria glanced up, realizing he''d heard her talking to herself. She gave him a sheepish smile. "Good session today," he said, his voice still slightly breathless from exertion. "That last lap nearly did me in." "Yet somehow you managed to speed up at the end," Victoria observed with a raised eyebrow. "Impressive stamina." "Or just impressive stubbornness," Zeke grinned. "I''ve been told they''re often the same thing." Victoria shook her head, but there was warmth in her eyes. "Get changed before you freeze. I expect to see you at weapon practice at lunch?" "Wouldn''t miss it," Zeke promised before heading off. The idea of changing into dry clothes before his morning classes sounded sensible, but there was something else Zeke needed to take care of first. For days, he''d been turning over Adrian''s strange reaction to Constantine''s warning about "the Court." The old librarian clearly knew something - something he was reluctant to share. Rather than heading toward his dormitory tower, Zeke''s boots carried him in the direction of the library. His damp clothes clung uncomfortably to his skin, and his hair was plastered to his forehead from the combination of sweat and drizzle, but his curiosity outweighed his discomfort. The library doors stood open as always, welcoming students seeking knowledge or simply a warm place to study. Zeke stepped inside, relishing the warmth that immediately enveloped him. The familiar scent of old parchment, leather bindings, and beeswax candles filled his nostrils as his eyes adjusted to the softer light within. The vast room stretched before him, its arched ceiling soaring overhead. Morning light filtered through the high windows, casting gentle illumination across the rows upon rows of bookshelves. A handful of early-rising students were already settled at reading tables, poring over ancient tomes or scribbling notes. After a moment of searching, Zeke spotted Adrian near a side alcove, helping a group of first-year students select books from a high shelf. The old librarian had a patient smile on his face as he carefully handed down volumes to the eager young scholars. Zeke started in that direction, weaving between the tables. Adrian, perhaps sensing his approach, turned slightly to look over his shoulder. The moment their eyes met, Adrian''s smile froze on his face. In the space of a heartbeat, the librarian''s expression transformed from warm helpfulness to stony disapproval. His brow furrowed, and his arms crossed over his chest in a gesture that reminded Zeke of his father''s stance when delivering a lecture. Undeterred, Zeke approached with what he hoped was a disarming smile. "Morning, Adrian." "De''Godfrey," Adrian replied, his voice as cold as the winter air outside. "What a pleasant surprise. Is there a section of the library I can direct you to today?" The formal tone was so unlike Adrian''s usual friendly manner that Zeke momentarily faltered. "Did... did I do something wrong?" "Did something happen?" Adrian repeated, his eyebrows rising. "I don''t know... Oh, yes, something did happen. What happened was that a bookshelf was shoved in front of an alcove where an unconscious student was left overnight. I don''t have the faintest idea how that might have happened. Do you?" Understanding dawned, and Zeke winced. The Diocletian incident - he should have known it would get back to Adrian eventually. "In all fairness," Zeke said, keeping his voice low, "he tried to stab me." "And you thought that gave you the right to knock him unconscious and leave him trapped in the library overnight?" Adrian hissed, dismissing the students he''d been helping with a wave of his hand. "What''s the big deal?" Zeke asked, genuinely confused by the intensity of Adrian''s reaction. "He tried to kill me! I was just teaching him a lesson, nothing permanent." Adrian''s lips pressed into a thin white line. "You really don''t understand, do you?" "No, I don''t," Zeke admitted, spreading his hands. "The rules are in place for a reason," Adrian said, his voice softening slightly though his expression remained stern. "The curfew exists to keep students and faculty safe. The library is the most tightly secured place in the entire Academy due to what we keep here." He glanced around before continuing in a lowered voice. "Getting caught breaking curfew is never pleasant, but getting caught here? It could have ended his academic career. It could have ended his freedom. I''m not exaggerating - there have been students placed in life imprisonment for being in the library after hours. There are extremely dangerous texts here, and¡ª" Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. "First off, I didn''t know any of that," Zeke interrupted, holding up one finger. "Second, I believe I keep trying to emphasize that he tried to kill me. That would have been the end of my freedom too. The end of my life altogether!" Adrian sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead with one hand. "Zeke, please don''t make me state it again. What you did was wrong, and you owe both myself and Diocletian an apology." His expression softened slightly. "And no, no one else knows about it, certainly not the Headmistress." "Well, that''s something," Zeke muttered, then nodded. "You''re right. I''m sorry. I didn''t mean to cause trouble - just wanted to get away from the guy with the knife." "Your apology is accepted," Adrian said, his face finally relaxing into something approaching his usual friendly demeanor. Zeke realized the old librarian had mostly been making a point - not that he wasn''t genuinely concerned, but that he''d always intended to forgive the transgression once Zeke understood its gravity. "Now, to the second matter," Adrian continued, his tone shifting back to normal. "House Godfrey is allied with House Hobbson now?" "Hey, you''re the one who wrote me the letter of recommendation to see Professor Harold," Zeke pointed out with a grin. "Yes, but I didn''t mean for you to ally with him!" Adrian shook his head in mock dismay, then sighed dramatically. "I suppose I''ll just have to challenge you to ceremonial combat." They shared a laugh, the tension between them dissipating. Adrian gestured toward a nearby reading table. "Sit down, sit down," he said, settling onto a wooden chair. "Forgive my reaction. House Levayne and House Hobbson have been at each other''s throats for generations. There was once a vast library in the main castle of House Levayne, but it was seized by the Senate over a technicality, and then House Hobbson somehow managed to acquire it. It''s been a sore point between our houses for a hundred years now." "I had no idea," Zeke said, genuinely surprised. "I''m sorry about that." "Oh, it''s nothing," Adrian waved his hand dismissively. "But as a loyal member of House Levayne, I couldn''t possibly let such a slight pass without comment." His eyes twinkled with humor. "Now, what can I do for you? You look like you have something on your mind." "I do," Zeke admitted, glancing around to ensure no one was within earshot. "It''s about the knight from my Second Trial. Did you know he was my brother''s old second-in-command?" "Constantine de''Minziar?" Adrian frowned, his playful manner vanishing. "No, I had no idea. He was likely chosen because they believed he would be especially hard on you. It certainly raises questions about the nature of your brother''s... accident." "That nature has been in question for a while now," Zeke said grimly. "Yes, but..." Adrian sighed, then shook his head. "Never mind. What about him?" "Did you know he''s dead?" Adrian''s jaw dropped, genuine shock written across his face. "Explain everything." Zeke quickly recounted what the Headmistress had told him about Constantine''s supposed "accident" on the bridge. When he finished, he leaned forward, lowering his voice further. "Before he died, during the Trial, he whispered something to me. He told me to ''beware the Court,'' but I have no idea what court that might be. Do you know what he could have meant?" The color drained from Adrian''s face so rapidly that Zeke feared the old man might faint. For a long moment, the librarian sat frozen, his fingers gripping the edge of the table with white-knuckled intensity. Then, just as suddenly, his expression cleared. He gave a small, dismissive shake of his head. "Beware the court? Probably just warning you that there are people in the Senate who want you dead. I can''t imagine it''s anything worse than that." "You''re lying," Zeke said bluntly, crossing his arms. "I am a librarian. Lying is beneath my code of conduct," Adrian replied with forced lightness, rising abruptly from his chair. "Now please, I am sorry, but I have work to do." Before Zeke could press further, Adrian swept off into the labyrinth of bookshelves, muttering to himself. The abrupt dismissal only confirmed Zeke''s suspicions - Adrian knew exactly what "the Court" referred to, and it frightened him enough to break his usual forthright manner. Never one to give up easily, Zeke stood and quietly moved to the next aisle of books, positioning himself behind where Adrian now stood. If the librarian wouldn''t tell him directly, perhaps he could glean something from the man''s worried mumblings. Carefully keeping out of sight, Zeke strained to hear Adrian''s whispered words through the gaps in the shelving. "The eight will rise... The ground will quake... The Court will... Fly, fly, from death." The fragments came in broken snatches, too disjointed to form a complete picture. After several minutes of this fruitless eavesdropping, Zeke gave up and quietly retreated toward the library entrance. Whatever Adrian knew about this mysterious "Court," he wasn''t going to share it willingly. But as Zeke stepped back into the castle corridor, an idea sparked in his mind. If Adrian wouldn''t help, perhaps someone else would. By the time Zeke reached Tower 2, he''d finally begun to feel the effects of his prolonged stay in damp clothes. A chill had settled into his bones, and his teeth chattered slightly as he climbed the stairs to the female dormitories. The stairwell buzzed with activity, groups of girls chatting and laughing together as they headed to classes or study sessions. It was strikingly different from the male dormitories, where interactions tended to be limited to brief nods or occasional sparring challenges. Here, students sat on the stairs in small clusters, sharing stories and secrets, braiding each other''s hair, or reviewing notes together. Zeke had never visited Elise''s room before, but he knew approximately where it was located from previous conversations. Following the numbered doors along the corridor, he soon found the right one and knocked firmly. The door swung open almost immediately, revealing Elise''s surprised but delighted face. "Zeke!" she exclaimed, eyes widening as she took in his bedraggled appearance. "Come in, come in! You look half-frozen." She pulled him inside, closing the door behind him. The room was noticeably warmer than the corridor, with a small charcoal brazier glowing in the corner. "My roommate''s gone for the morning," Elise explained, gesturing to the empty bed on the other side of the room. "She''s off studying in Tower 5. What brings you here? And why haven''t you changed out of your wet clothes?" Zeke glanced around, taking in the cozy space. Unlike the spartan functionality of his own dormitory, Elise''s room was thoughtfully decorated. Dried flowers hung in small bunches from the ceiling beams, hand-painted landscape scenes adorned the walls, and colorful woven rugs covered portions of the stone floor. Several small vases held winter greenery, adding life to the space despite the season. "I got distracted," Zeke admitted, accepting the woolen blanket Elise thrust into his hands. He draped it around his shoulders gratefully. "And then I needed to talk to you about something important." "Must be important if it couldn''t wait until you were dry," Elise observed, settling cross-legged on her bed. "What''s going on?" "I overheard something today that might connect to everything that''s been happening," Zeke explained, sitting in the chair at her writing desk. "Something strange." "I''m listening." Zeke recounted his conversation with Adrian and the cryptic fragments he''d overheard afterward. As he spoke, Elise''s expression grew increasingly focused, her brow furrowing in concentration. "''The eight will rise... The ground will quake... The Court will... Fly, fly, from death,''" she repeated when he finished. "That definitely sounds like a prophecy fragment." "That''s what I thought too," Zeke nodded eagerly. "''The eight will rise'' - that has to refer to the Eight Dragons of Calamity from the old legends, right?" "Almost certainly," Elise agreed, her eyes lighting up with scholarly excitement. "And ''the ground will quake'' would fit with dragons awakening. But this ''Court'' reference - that''s interesting. It must be the same Court that Constantine warned you about." "Exactly!" Zeke leaned forward. "Adrian clearly knows what it means, but he won''t tell me. I was hoping you might have come across it in your studies." "Not specifically," Elise admitted. "Though there are many different ''courts'' in Athian history - the Royal Court, the Court of Justices, various noble courts..." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "But none that would provoke such a strong reaction from Adrian." "Could you help me look into it?" Zeke asked. "Adrian definitely knows more than he''s saying, but he clammed up the moment I mentioned it." "Of course I''ll help," Elise said without hesitation. "But we need to be careful. If this is connected to your brother''s accident and Constantine''s death, it could be dangerous." She paused, her expression turning thoughtful. "Do you think we could wait until after the Winter Festival?" "Why wait?" Zeke frowned, restless energy making him bounce his leg unconsciously. "Because I have a class - Theory of Magic - that will be doing a unit on prophecies after the Winter Festival," she explained. "It''s an introduction to higher-level classes on divination and prophecy interpretation. Once I start that unit, I can ask Adrian to help me find all the prophecy-related books in the library without raising suspicion. And, maybe, he''ll have forgotten about your questions by then." Zeke considered this, fighting his natural impulse to charge ahead immediately. "That''s actually pretty clever," he admitted. "A lot more subtle than my usual approach." "Which is?" "Kick down the door and see what happens," Zeke grinned. Elise laughed. "Sometimes that works too, but not when we''re dealing with ancient prophecies and mysterious courts that might be responsible for attempted murder." "Fair point," Zeke conceded. "Alright, I can wait until after the festival. Just don''t forget, okay?" "I never forget anything," Elise declared, hopping up from her bed. She walked to a small writing desk and picked up a leather-bound notebook, quickly scribbling something inside. "Or rather, my planner never forgets anything." "Perfect," Zeke said, rising to his feet and reluctantly removing the warm blanket. "I should probably go change before my next class. Thanks for listening." "You don''t have to leave just because you got what you came for," Elise said, a hint of shyness creeping into her voice. "I have some studying to do, but that can wait. I have a few board games we could play, and... I don''t know. Might be fun." A spark of joy ignited in Zeke''s chest at the invitation. Between training, classes, and investigating mysterious threats, he''d had precious little time for simple enjoyment lately. "I''d like that," he said with a genuine smile. "I have studying to do too, but as you said, it can wait." "Great!" Elise''s face brightened as she moved to a small chest beside her bed. After rummaging through it for a moment, she emerged with a wooden chess set. "We can play here at the desk. You know chess, right?" "Of course," Zeke laughed. "Who doesn''t? I won''t claim to be good, but I know how the pieces move." "Well, have you ever played Farmer''s Chess?" Elise asked, setting up the board between them. Zeke shook his head. "No, what''s that?" "It''s similar to regular chess, but it substitutes two of the pawns for Farmers," she explained, replacing two pawns on each side with slightly different carved pieces. "Farmers move differently - they can go forward one space like pawns, but they can also move diagonally forward without capturing, or directly sideways one space." "Sounds complicated," Zeke observed, studying the board with interest. "It adds some strategy," Elise replied. "In our village, the farmers were always the most valuable pieces because of their flexibility. My father used to say it reflected real life - peasants adapt while nobles stick to their rigid patterns." She blushed slightly. "Sorry, I didn''t mean¡ª" "No, he was probably right," Zeke laughed. "Look how long it took me to figure out how to do my own laundry." As Elise explained the rest of the rules, Zeke felt the lingering chill from his morning training finally leaving his bones. The room was warm, the company enjoyable, and for a moment, the looming threats of Trials and mysterious Courts seemed distant. They played their first game slowly, with Elise patiently reminding Zeke of the special Farmer moves whenever he forgot. Despite her guidance, she soundly defeated him in less than twenty moves. "Another round?" she asked, already resetting the board. "Definitely," Zeke nodded, determined to do better. "I think I''m getting the hang of it now." The second game lasted considerably longer. Zeke paid careful attention to the Farmers, using their unusual movement patterns to disrupt Elise''s strategy. He managed to capture her queen early, leading to a much more competitive match. "Check," he declared triumphantly after maneuvering a knight into position. Elise studied the board with narrowed eyes, then moved her king to safety. "Not bad. You learn quickly." "I had a good teacher," Zeke replied, planning his next move. Three moves later, Elise smiled sweetly and said, "Checkmate." Zeke stared at the board in disbelief, trying to see how she''d trapped him so effectively. "How did you¡ªI thought I was winning!" "That''s the beauty of Farmer''s Chess," Elise explained, pointing to one of the special pieces that had quietly moved into a powerful position while he focused on his knights and bishops. "The pieces that seem least important often decide the game." "Just like real life again," Zeke observed, leaning back in his chair. "The overlooked ones end up making all the difference." Their third game was interrupted by the distant tolling of bells announcing the next class period. "I should really go change now," Zeke said reluctantly, rising from his chair. "Professor Harkin will have my head if I show up to History in wet clothes again." "Again?" Elise raised an eyebrow. "Long story involving a fountain and a bet with Ralph," Zeke grinned. "I''ll tell you sometime." As he headed toward the door, Elise called after him, "Same time next week? For chess, I mean." "It''s a date," Zeke replied without thinking, then felt his cheeks warm. "I mean¡ª" "I know what you meant," Elise said, her own cheeks slightly pink. "Go on, before you''re late." [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [Strategic Move: Beat Elise in Chess] [Winter Prophecy: Investigate the mysterious Court after the Winter Festival] 29. Storm Letters [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Outer Courtyards] [Date: December 3, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] The chess game with Elise turned into five chess games, lasting until early afternoon. Time flew by as they played, laughed, and talked, making the hours feel like minutes. By the time Zeke walked back to his dorm room that afternoon, his mind was filled with strategies and counter-strategies rather than the Aura Theory he was supposed to be studying. He did eventually force himself to focus long enough to prepare for their upcoming test, but that was about all he could manage. "One more game and I''d have finally beaten you," he''d insisted as he left Elise''s room. "Keep telling yourself that," she''d replied with a playful smirk. That night, a massive storm struck Leoncrest, howling across the grounds with such fury it seemed determined to tear the castle from its very foundations. Rain lashed against the windows in sheets, wind screamed through every crack and crevice, and thunder crashed so loudly it rattled the stone walls. The storm raged through the next day (December 2nd), only to worsen overnight again. By the morning of December 3rd, the tempest had reached such intensity that Zeke wondered if classes would even be held. He woke to the sound of rain hammering against his window like an army of tiny fists demanding entry. Cold gusts whistled under the door, and small rivulets of water had begun to trickle through where the window latches weren''t quite tight enough. As Zeke rolled out of bed, he spotted several envelopes that had been slipped under the door during the night. He bounded across the cold stone floor to retrieve them. "What''s that?" Ralph snorted, jerking awake at the sudden movement. "Any of those for me?" "Let''s see," Zeke said, flipping through the small stack. "There''s an announcement from the Headmistress addressed to all students. Probably about the storm. Then..." He continued sorting. "A letter from Victoria for me, two letters from the Godfrey estate, and¡ª" he tossed an envelope toward Ralph''s bed, "¡ªone for you from the Arnette estate." "Finally!" Ralph said, snatching the letter midair. "Been waiting to hear from my father." Zeke broke the seal on the general announcement and cleared his throat dramatically. "Dear students!" he read aloud in his best imitation of the Headmistress''s clipped tones. "Due to this storm, which is projected to last for three more days, I am canceling all outdoor activities. Students are not to venture beyond the walls of the Academy courtyards, and those who do, do so at their own risk. Please stay safe, and know that I join you in hoping that it will soon pass." "Doesn''t affect me. I never go outside anyway," Ralph shrugged, already tearing open his own letter. Zeke opened Victoria''s note next: "Hey, everyone! You''ve probably heard by now that all outdoor activities have been cancelled. I tried to reserve the Dueling Arena for our classes, but it was already booked by the time I got there, so I''m afraid we''ll just have to call it a loss until the storm passes. If you want, do some exercise in your room to help stay loose until we can meet again. Stay safe!" "Well, there goes my morning training," Zeke said, though not unhappily. A break wasn''t the worst thing in the world after months of relentless practice. His eyes fell on the two remaining letters - one from his father and one from Artax. His fingers itched to tear them open immediately, but he had morning classes to prepare for. With remarkable restraint, he carefully tucked them into his desk drawer. "I''ll get to you as soon as the day is over," he promised the letters before heading out to face the day. Unfortunately, the day seemed determined to stretch on forever. His morning classes - Aura Infusion, Politics, and History - crawled by at an excruciating pace. The storm only made things worse, growing louder the higher up in the towers they went. In History class, which occupied the top floor of Tower 9, the howling wind and pounding rain nearly drowned out Professor Lawrence''s lecture entirely. Darkness was another challenge. Storm clouds had turned the sky almost as black as night, forcing professors to light their classrooms with candles instead of relying on the usual daylight from the tall windows. Professor Gerald, ever resourceful, turned this to his advantage in Aura Infusion by having the candles float around the room, using them to demonstrate principles of aura manipulation. "Note how the flames respond to the aura field," he explained as a dozen candles drifted in a complex pattern overhead. "Just as fire seeks to spread, aura naturally expands to fill available space unless constrained by will." Any other day, Zeke might have found it fascinating. Today, all he could think about were those unopened letters waiting in his room. When lunchtime finally arrived, Zeke hurried down to the dining hall, half-hoping his afternoon training sessions might still happen despite the weather. As expected, Victoria had also canceled his private weapons practice. She slid onto the bench across from him as he attacked a bowl of hearty beef stew. "Sorry about canceling," she said, nodding toward the adjoining courtyard. Through the thick glass windows, they could see curtains of rain pouring down, transforming the training area into something more like a shallow lake. "This is what they call Truce weather - weather so severe that even the most bitter enemies will call a truce rather than fight in it." Ingrid dropped onto the bench beside Victoria, setting down a tray laden with food. "The sewer worms are going to be having a feast day, though." "Sewer worms?" Zeke asked between mouthfuls of stew. "What are those?" "A myth, and nothing more," Victoria said dismissively. "Something upper-level students tell first-years to scare them." Ingrid held up a finger. "First, if that''s true, you''ve just spoiled a great deal of my fun. Second, that''s not true, because I''ve seen one." Victoria rolled her eyes as Ingrid turned back to Zeke. "The Academy is massive, right? We don''t get many storms, but when we do, we need to make sure the place doesn''t flood. There''s an elaborate sewer system underneath the entire castle to drain away water when needed." "She has a thing for sewers," Victoria said, elbowing Ingrid playfully. "They''re excellent for sneaking into castles or fortresses," Ingrid declared, completely serious. "A well-designed sewer system can hold an army at bay. A poor one will prove its doom, and this one is exceptional." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "Anyway, I''ve stormed a few sewers in my day, so I naturally explored the ones here when I first arrived. There are rumors of giant worms down there, thick as your torso and a hundred feet long. Well, I saw one. Just one, not the nests of them that you sometimes hear about, but it definitely existed." "Are they dangerous?" Zeke asked, eyes lighting up with interest. "Do they eat students?" "According to the upperclassmen, yes," Victoria replied, shaking her head at Ingrid. "I, however, discourage such fear-mongering. We have legitimate threats around - stone gargoyles, forest monsters - without inventing more." Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. "I say they don''t eat meat," Ingrid countered. "The one I saw didn''t have jaws or teeth. Besides, there isn''t much food down there. Anything that large in that environment would be a decomposer, eating leaves and organic waste that washes down." Zeke''s eyes gleamed with excitement. "You think we could go see them? Once the rain stops, I mean." "Absolutely not," Victoria said firmly. "Definitely," Ingrid replied at the exact same moment. They glared at each other while Zeke laughed. "The sewers are off-limits to students for good reason," Victoria insisted. "They''re dangerous, confusing, and filled with... waste." "The best adventures always are," Ingrid countered with a wink at Zeke. "Speaking of adventures," Zeke said, switching topics, "I got letters from home today. Haven''t had a chance to read them yet." "That''s great!" Victoria smiled. "It''s important to maintain those connections, especially during your first year away." "What''s your family like?" Ingrid asked. "Beyond the famous brother and stern noble father, I mean." "They''re..." Zeke paused, considering. "Complicated. My father expects perfection, always has. Artax somehow managed to provide it - until his accident. I was always the spare, the one who could get away with things because no one expected much from me." "And now the spotlight''s on you," Victoria observed. "Yeah," Zeke nodded. "But they''re still family. I miss them more than I expected to." The conversation drifted to other topics as they finished lunch, but Zeke''s thoughts kept returning to those unopened letters. What news from home awaited him? Had something happened? Was his family proud of his progress? Afternoon classes seemed to pass even more slowly than the morning ones. In Swordsmanship, Victoria had them practicing formation fighting in the cramped indoor space of the Dueling Arena, which they shared with two other displaced classes. After that came his Aura lessons with Professor Harold in Tower 7, where he continued working on second-contact infusion with mixed success. "You''re improving," the professor noted as Zeke managed to hold a small metal ball suspended for nearly twenty seconds. "Still unstable, but the control is developing." By the time Zeke finally made it back to his dormitory, the storm had intensified further. Rain hammered the windows with such force it seemed impossible the glass could withstand it. He lit several candles to combat the gloom, their warm light creating a small island of comfort in the darkened room. At last, he settled at his desk and reached for his father''s letter. Part of him balked at breaking the Godfrey seal, so he carefully tore the paper around it before extracting the message. "Zeke," it began in his father''s firm, precise handwriting, "I just want to tell you that you''re doing good work at the Academy! Securing the alliance with House Hobbson was a good move, and one that I think will pay off well in the long run." Zeke smiled. This was no hastily scribbled note, but a carefully crafted letter that must have taken his father significant time. "If you can do anything to appease House Levayne, it wouldn''t be the end of the world, but I''ve already made some overtures to them, and they understand that given our position, we desperately need allies. I don''t think there will be any bad blood. "Now, perhaps of somewhat more concerning matter is that of House Arnette. At present, there''s no ill will between our houses, but House Hobbson is considering raising the price on the steel mine that has made Greenmeadow so famous. If that happens, I have little doubt that House Arnette will place at least some of the blame upon us. We''ve always been neutral with Arnette, neither allied nor antagonistic, and I don''t anticipate any real change except perhaps a slight cooling of favor. See what you can do, and I will do the same on my end. "In any case, all is well here. Of further note, which I cannot discuss in detail for obvious reasons, is the state of our holdings. I have been doing what I can to put our assets beyond the Senate''s reach, should the worst happen. I don''t say this to imply I have no confidence in you - quite the opposite! Your actions have, at the very least, bought us the time we needed to further secure our position. You have single-handedly ensured the survival of House Godfrey in at least some fashion, and for that, you will forever be known in the annals of House Godfrey history." A lump formed in Zeke''s throat as he reread the last paragraph. His father wasn''t one for praise - especially not toward his "spare" son. The words meant more than his father could possibly know. Carefully setting aside the first letter, Zeke broke the seal on Artax''s message, his heart beating faster. "Hey, little brother!" it began in Artax''s bold, slightly messy handwriting. "Been hearing lots of great things about you. Really can''t tell you how proud I am to have you as my little brother. From the rumors I''m hearing, you could soon be an even greater knight than I was!" The lump in Zeke''s throat grew larger. He blinked rapidly, fighting back the sudden moisture in his eyes. "I won''t take up too much of your time, just wanted to wish you the best. I''ll try to come into the Academy for one of your Trials, I just keep missing the date. Almost like someone there doesn''t want me to show up! Imagine that. "I still might come for the Winter Festival - we''ll see. Oh, I got a letter from Constantine. Sounds like he was the one who evaluated you? Congrats on passing! He''s no wimp, and he was always stricter on the men than I was. If he passed you, it means something. Keep up the good work! "Oh, and I think I''m hearing from the weather mages that there''s a storm on the horizon. Watch out for sewer worms - they like to come up when the sewers fill with water. I saw one once, and the things are enormous. Jaws that could bite your whole head off. Just tread lightly, and probably stay inside. They usually cancel all outdoor activities when the sewers start to flood, just to be on the safe side, so you ought to be good. "One more thing! If you''re ever down in the library and Adrian isn''t around, go check out the statue of the lion in the northwest corner. That''s all I''ll say, for now. It might hold a bit of a secret. Catch you later! Your brother, Artax." A few tears escaped despite Zeke''s best efforts. He wiped them away quickly, glad Ralph wasn''t around to see. The letter had been written before Constantine''s death, clearly - another reminder of how dangerous his situation truly was. The mention of the lion statue immediately piqued his curiosity. What secret could it hold? Something about the Court that Constantine had warned him about? Something about Artax''s accident? The possibilities raced through his mind, building excitement despite the melancholy brought on by thoughts of home. After a moment of contemplation, Zeke pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and picked up his quill. "Artax," he began, "it was great to hear from you. I''m loving the Academy so far." He paused, considering his next words. "The training is intense, the classes challenging, and there''s never a dull moment. I''ve made some good friends already - Victoria from House Reinfir has been teaching me advanced swordplay, and Ingrid Stormhall is showing me how to use a sling with deadly accuracy. Even managed to beat a royal knight in my Second Trial using a buckler as a projectile!" He smiled as he wrote, imagining Artax''s reaction to that particular story. "How''s life treating you now that you''re the one expected to do nothing but get married and have heirs? Though what am I saying - you''re the great Artax! You probably have a hundred women lined up. Hope the one you choose is kind. "The storm here is incredible - I''ve never seen anything like it. The professors had to cancel all outdoor training, which gives me a rare chance to catch my breath. Speaking of breathing, how''s your recovery coming along? Father mentioned in his letter that things are going well at home, but he didn''t give details about you. "Oh, and Ingrid claims she''s seen the sewer worms too, though Victoria insists they''re just stories. Victoria says they don''t have teeth, but you mentioned jaws that could bite off heads - can''t wait to find out who''s right! (Don''t worry, I''ll stay out of the sewers. Probably.) "I miss you, brother. More than I expected to. When I started this journey, I was just trying to save our family name, but now I find myself wanting to make you proud too. To prove that your little brother can stand on his own." Zeke continued writing, filling one page and starting another, pouring out stories of his training, his Trials, his friends, and his discoveries. The letter became a stream of consciousness, jumping from topic to topic with youthful enthusiasm. As he wrote about Elise teaching him to play Farmer''s Chess, a roll of thunder so loud it seemed to shake the very foundation of the castle interrupted his thoughts. The candles flickered, momentarily plunging the room into darkness before stabilizing again. For a moment, Zeke paused to listen to the storm. The wind howled like a living creature, rain hammered against the castle walls, and occasional flashes of lightning illuminated his room through the window. Despite the ferocity outside, he felt strangely peaceful within the stone walls of his chamber, letters from home spread before him. A sudden thought struck him - he should investigate the lion statue as soon as possible! With the storm keeping everyone inside and classes disrupted, there would never be a better opportunity to explore the library without arousing suspicion. Most students would be huddled in their common rooms or dormitories, avoiding the drafty corridors. Turning back to his letter, he added: "I almost forgot - thanks for the tip about the lion statue. I''ll check it out the first chance I get. Speaking of secrets, there''s something odd happening here at Leoncrest. Constantine mentioned something about a ''Court'' I should beware of, and then he died in a suspicious ''accident'' on his way back to the Capital. Sound familiar? Adrian nearly jumped out of his skin when I asked him about it. If you know anything, a hint would be appreciated. Not that I can''t handle it myself, of course." Zeke grinned as he wrote the last line, knowing it would make his brother smile. He''d always pretended to be braver than he felt when they were younger, and Artax had always played along with the charade. He finished the letter with a flourish, promising to write again soon with news of his progress and any discoveries about the mysterious lion statue. Just as he was folding the parchment, heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway outside - the unmistakable sound of stone guardians beginning their nightly patrol. "Perfect timing," Zeke muttered, setting the letter aside to be sent in the morning. The gargoyles would make venturing out impossible tonight, but tomorrow... tomorrow he would find that statue. Whatever secret Artax had left him, it might be the key to understanding everything that had happened - to his brother, to Constantine, perhaps even to House Godfrey itself. As thunder crashed overhead and rain hammered against his window, Zeke lay back on his bed, a plan already forming in his mind. The storm might keep others trapped inside, but for him, it was the perfect opportunity for adventure. And if there was one thing Zeke de''Godfrey never turned down, it was an adventure - especially one that might help save his family. Outside, the tempest raged on, but inside his room, surrounded by letters from home and the promise of tomorrow''s expedition, Zeke felt a warmth that no storm could touch. For the first time in weeks, he fell asleep with a smile on his face, dreaming not of Trials or training, but of home. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior Endurance [Active Quests:] [Lion Down: Check out the Stone Lion in the Library] [Winter Days: Prepare for the Winter Festival] 30. Their Loss [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Library] [Date: December 4, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] The very next day, Zeke woke before dawn, listening to the storm still lashing against the windows. The worst had passed, but the rain continued to drum steadily on the roof tiles. Most students would sleep in, but Zeke had never been one to waste daylight ¨C even hidden behind storm clouds. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched, glancing at Ralph who snored thunderously in the next bed. His roommate could sleep through a dragon attack, never mind a little thunder. "No point lying around," Zeke muttered to himself, pulling on his boots. Classes weren''t canceled today despite the weather, but they wouldn''t start for hours. Rather than staring at the ceiling, Zeke decided to explore. The Academy held too many secrets to ignore, and a stormy morning seemed perfect for uncovering one or two. He grabbed a small notebook he''d started keeping ¨C filled with sketches of the castle layout, notes about its history, and rumors he''d collected from other students. Slipping it into his pocket, he headed out the door. The storm''s noise faded to a distant rumble as he descended into the main halls of the Academy. A few early-rising students nodded to him as he passed, but most of the corridors remained empty. Perfect for exploration. His feet carried him naturally toward the library. If there was one place in Leoncrest that held more secrets than anywhere else, it was those ancient shelves. The massive doors stood partially open, lanterns already lit inside. Zeke wasn''t the only one taking advantage of the quiet morning. A handful of students hunched over books at scattered tables, their faces illuminated by dancing lantern light as lightning flashed behind rain-streaked windows. The scene had an almost magical quality ¨C the storm raging outside while knowledge was quietly pursued within. Zeke scanned the library, looking for Adrian, the elderly librarian who seemed to know every corner of Leoncrest. Not seeing him immediately, Zeke''s eyes drifted toward his secondary target ¨C the Stone Lion. He''d heard whispers about the statue since his first week at the Academy. Some claimed it guarded a hidden passage to forgotten archives. Others insisted it contained a powerful artifact that could grant wishes. Most dismissed it as just another academy legend, but Zeke wasn''t so sure. The old stories usually had some truth to them. It took several minutes of searching before he spotted the lion tucked away in a distant corner, nearly hidden by tall bookshelves. The stone beast crouched on its pedestal, ruby eyes catching the lamplight. No wonder most students never noticed it ¨C you''d have to be deliberately looking to find it back here. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, Zeke approached the statue. The craftsmanship was remarkable ¨C every strand of the mane individually carved, the muscles beneath the stone skin so lifelike he half-expected the creature to leap off its pedestal. "Alright," he murmured, circling the statue carefully. "What''s your secret?" The lion''s mouth hung open, displaying jagged stone teeth. Its ruby eyes stared forward, unblinking. Zeke ran his fingers over the cool stone, searching for any irregularity that might indicate a hidden mechanism. Finding nothing obvious, he cautiously reached into the beast''s mouth. Unlike most students, who''d be afraid of triggering a trap, Zeke figured secrets rarely revealed themselves to the timid. His fingers probed between the teeth, feeling for a switch or button. Nothing. He tried pressing the ruby eyes, then looking for seams in the pedestal, then examining the paws ¨C all yielding nothing. "Maybe it''s triggered by weight," he muttered, carefully pushing down on the lion''s back. Still nothing. Unwilling to give up so easily, he knelt down to examine the stone floor around the statue. Maybe the secret wasn''t in the lion itself but in its surroundings. The sound of approaching footsteps made him quickly stand and try to look casual. "You''re not really trying to find the secret of the lion, are you?" Zeke turned to see Elise standing at the corner of the bookshelf, an amused smile on her face. Her hair was tied back in a simple braid, and she carried a stack of books against her chest. "Course I am," he replied with a grin. "Aren''t you curious what''s hidden here?" "Another fable the old-timers invented, if you ask me," she shrugged, setting her books down on a nearby table. "There''s no mention of the lion''s secret in any of the older material in the library. It only starts getting referenced about a hundred years ago. We know the statue is over three hundred years old, though, so..." Zeke''s eyebrows shot up. "You''ve researched this?" "A little," she admitted. "I got curious last term." Zeke frowned, considering this new information. "But couldn''t the secret have remained secret for those first 200 years?" "Maybe. I''m not buying it," Elise shrugged. "Anyway, I was in here studying, and I saw you come in. When I saw you come over this way, I figured I''d try to catch you in the act." "Well, it looks like you succeeded," Zeke answered with a laugh. He gave the statue one last look before walking away from the corner. He wasn''t defeated ¨C just postponing the mystery for now. "What were you in here for so early?" "Well, you know the winter festival is approaching," Elise said, gesturing to her stack of books. "I was digging around for a cookbook. There''s a recipe I''d like to try to make for everyone, but I''m struggling to find it." "You mean you don''t just remember how to make it?" Zeke raised an eyebrow. "I''m shocked. Miss Perfect Memory needs a book?" Elise laughed and gave his shoulder a playful shove. "I know, crazy right? The reality is that I do know the recipe by heart, but only using ingredients we have back home. I don''t know how some of them convert to the ingredients here, so I was hoping I''d find a local version. Problem is, there aren''t many cookbooks here, and none from my region. They''re all local or historical, things for study, not actual cooking." "Huh," Zeke frowned thoughtfully. "What about Ericka? Could she help?" "Nah, I already asked her," Elise sighed. "She was the one who gave me the cookbook idea. She honestly doesn''t know nearly as much as you might think, given her area of study. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. That said, she considers me an expert on the subject, so I suppose that might be why she''s studying it in the first place." Lightning flashed outside, briefly illuminating the entire library. Zeke watched the rain streaming down the windows, then had an idea. "Do you have access to the pantries?" he asked. "Yeah. Ericka gave me free access, why?" Elise frowned. "I don''t know. I just thought we could go there together," Zeke shrugged with a smile. "Maybe do some experimenting, try out a few different things, and see what we come up with. Not like we can do much outside in this weather anyway." Elise''s face brightened. "You''d be willing to do that with me?" "Sure, why not? Sounds more fun than reading about the Thirty Years'' War for Professor Amden''s class," Zeke nodded. "I''ve never been much for baking, but I''m a quick learner." "Alright, then," Elise nodded, a new excitement in her voice. "When? This evening?" Zeke thought for a moment, mentally reviewing his schedule, then nodded. "This evening works. After the last bell?" "Great!" Elise beamed. "I''ll see you then!" As she gathered her books and headed back toward the main part of the library, Zeke turned once more to look at the stone lion. Its ruby eyes seemed to watch him mockingly. "I''ll figure you out eventually," he whispered to the statue before following Elise. The rest of the day dragged by like a wounded turtle. The storm outside made the classrooms dark and gloomy, requiring extra lanterns even at midday. Professor Gerald seemed particularly irritable during Aura Infusion, snapping at students for the slightest mistakes. Even Aura tutoring with Professor Gilda felt longer than usual, though Zeke was making good progress. He could now hold a steady flame in his palm for nearly five minutes ¨C a vast improvement from his first disastrous attempts months ago. When the final bell rang, Zeke rushed through the rain-soaked courtyard, using his cloak as meager protection against the downpour. He made his way to Tower Six where the kitchens were located. It took some searching to find Elise. She wasn''t in any of the main cooking classrooms, but after knocking on several doors, he located her in a small, private kitchen on one of the tower''s lowest levels. The cozy room was connected to a massive pantry, and steam already billowed from a pot on the stove. "You made it!" she called when he entered, shaking rainwater from his cloak. "Course I did," he nodded, hanging his wet garment on a hook by the door. "So what exactly is on the menu for tonight?" "Well, the thing I want to make is called a Cinnamon Roll," Elise explained, moving to a counter where flour and other ingredients were already laid out. "It''s made from a really soft bread that you spread out, then you sprinkle it with butter and sugar and this stuff called cinnamon, then roll it all up, chop it, and bake it." "I''d be lying if I said I was following all of that," Zeke said with a laugh, rolling up his sleeves. "But I''m game. What''s the problem?" "The problem is the cinnamon, which is the key ingredient," Elise sighed, leading him to the pantry door. She pushed it open to reveal a room almost twice the size of the kitchen. The pantry was stocked floor to ceiling with every imaginable ingredient. Barrels of flour and sugar lined one wall, while wheels of cheese and tubs of butter occupied another. Shelves of jars and containers filled the rest of the space. One entire section was dedicated to small glass containers of spices ¨C at least two hundred different varieties by Zeke''s quick count. "Whoa," he whispered, impressed by the collection. "I had no idea the Academy kept this much food." "Feast days are serious business here," Elise nodded. "So what we''re looking for would be in the spice section, but there''s nothing labeled ''cinnamon.'' That doesn''t mean they don''t have it ¨C just that it goes by another name. I''ve opened about sixty jars, but that''s taken me half an hour already." "I''d be glad to help," Zeke said, approaching the spice wall and picking up a jar. "So what does cinnamon smell like exactly?" Elise''s eyes went distant for a moment. "It smells like a warm cup of hot apple cider in the middle of winter. It smells like the warmth of a home when the weather is raging outside, it smells like a hug by the fire when the snow is piled so high you can''t possibly escape." Zeke turned back to her and raised an eyebrow. "Spicy? Sweet? Something a bit more specific maybe?" "Yes. Both." "You are not helping," Zeke laughed as he opened the jar in his hand. The smell hit him immediately ¨C powerful and sharp, but definitely not what she described. It reminded him of spaghetti sauce. He put it back and tried another, which smelled like... well, like the bottom of a dirty boot. "But I''ll use that description as much as I can." "It''s kind of a reddish-brown color?" Elise offered with a shrug. "If that helps?" The color did help narrow things down, and they began methodically working through the rows of spices. Whenever Zeke found something that seemed promising, he set it on a small shelf behind him. Elise did the same with potential substitutes. An hour later, they''d reached the end of the collection with fifteen candidate jars. Elise carefully opened each one, sniffing them thoughtfully before narrowing down to three finalists. "Alright," she said, crossing her arms. "None of these are cinnamon, but they''re all sort of close. Pick one, and we''ll go with it." Zeke took his time, giving each jar a thorough sniff. The first had a bitter edge to it, the second was intensely sweet, but the third... "This one," he nodded decisively. "It smells like... I''d describe it as smelling like a warm kitchen in an Academy in the middle of a storm." "That does seem like it would fit our current situation pretty well," Elise said with a smile. She examined the jar more closely. "Let''s see... This says it''s called Butterflower Extract. That means absolutely nothing to me, but it ought to work. Let''s give it a try!" They returned to the kitchen, where Elise had already prepared most of the other ingredients. Making the bread dough turned out to be surprisingly straightforward. Unlike the dense bread Zeke had helped make back home, this dough was soft and pliable, easy to knead and shape. "Where''d you learn to do this?" Zeke asked as he rolled the dough into a large rectangle across the workspace. "My mother taught me," Elise replied, melting butter in a small pan over the hot coals in the stove. "Every winter, she''d make these for the solstice celebration. All the neighbors would come by for a taste." As she drizzled the melted butter across the flattened dough, Zeke spread it evenly with a wooden spoon. The kitchen filled with a rich, warm aroma. Next, they mixed sugar with the Butterflower extract in a bowl, with Elise tasting the mixture every few adjustments. "Just a bit more," she murmured, adding another pinch of the spice. "That''s just about it... No, maybe a tad more?" When she was satisfied, they sprinkled the mixture across the buttered dough. Zeke watched carefully as Elise demonstrated how to roll it all up into a long log. Butter and sugar oozed from the ends, and he caught some on his finger, tasting it with a grin. "That''s already amazing," he said, licking his finger clean. They sliced the log into thick discs and arranged them on a baking tray. When they slid it into the oven, the small kitchen quickly filled with a heavenly aroma that made Zeke''s stomach growl. "How long do they bake?" he asked, already eyeing the oven door. "About twenty minutes," Elise replied. "Let''s clean up while we wait." They fell into an easy rhythm, washing utensils and returning ingredients to the pantry. Through the small kitchen window, Zeke could see the storm had finally begun to ease, the rain settling into a gentle patter. "Do you think it''ll turn out alright?" he asked as they finished tidying up. "Yes, it will," Elise nodded, though a small frown crossed her face. Zeke noticed but didn''t press the issue. Instead, he told her about his most recent Trial ¨C a night navigation exercise that had him identifying stars through breaks in the clouds. By the time he finished the story, the kitchen timer chimed. "They''re ready!" Elise exclaimed, grabbing thick cloths to protect her hands. They pulled the tray from the oven together. The rolls had expanded impressively, nearly spilling over the edges of the pan. Golden-brown and glistening with caramelized sugar, they looked delicious. Zeke grabbed two plates while Elise carefully transferred a roll onto each. The first bite was revelatory. The bread was soft and pillowy, the filling sweet and aromatic with a subtle spicy note from the Butterflower extract. Zeke closed his eyes, savoring the flavors. "This might be the best thing I''ve ever eaten," he declared after swallowing. But when he opened his eyes, he saw Elise looking somewhat disappointed despite her own appreciative bites. "What''s wrong?" he asked. "These are incredible." "I don''t know," she bit her lip, then shrugged. "It''s just not quite the same as when I was growing up." "Of course not," Zeke said gently. "It''s not the same ingredient." "I know, I know, but I think I was still expecting the effect to be the same," she shrugged. "You don''t know the feeling, but there''s just something about being transported back to a moment in time that you''ve long forgotten, being taken back to a moment that has passed forever." Zeke set down his fork and thought for a moment, then slowly put an arm around her shoulders. "Well, from what I''ve heard you say, just baking in general has brought back good memories for you, right?" "Right," she frowned with a small nod. "I suppose that''s true." "And right now..." Zeke shrugged, giving her a gentle squeeze. "This doesn''t seem like the worst memory to make. Baking together in the Academy while a storm is dying outside. Maybe someday you''ll make these Butterflower rolls for your kids and tell them about the time you had to improvise during a winter storm at Leoncrest." Elise''s expression softened, and she leaned against him briefly. "You know what?" she murmured after a moment. "I think you just might be right." That small moment of connection lingered between them, comfortable and warm like the kitchen itself. They didn''t need to say anything more as they finished their treats and packed up the remaining rolls to share with their friends. As they prepared to leave, Elise carefully wrapped half a dozen rolls in a cloth. "Don''t forget to take some for Ralph," she said. "And maybe save one for Adrian? He might know something about that lion statue after all." Zeke nodded, accepting the package with a smile. "Thanks for letting me help. This was way better than sitting around watching the rain." "Thank you for coming," she replied, her eyes bright in the lantern light. "Most guys wouldn''t be caught dead baking." "Their loss," Zeke shrugged. "They''re missing out on good food and better company." [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [Winter Days: Prepare for the Winter Festival] 31. Winter Festival [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 1] [Date: December 25, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] The rest of December flew by in a blur of training and studying. As the Winter Festival approached, excitement built throughout the Academy. Students chattered about shows, talent competitions, and baking contests instead of the usual duels and challenges. Zeke found himself caught up in the growing anticipation, curious about what made this event so special that even the most serious students seemed giddy about it. Thankfully, he didn''t have too long to wait. Classes dragged on right up to the festival, though Zeke found his Aura Infusion sessions getting easier as they moved from theory back to practical work. His private training grew more intense each day, with Professor Gilda pushing him harder than ever. "You''re making real progress," she''d told him yesterday after he successfully maintained an aura shield for nearly ten minutes. "Just in time for a well-deserved break." Finally, the day of the Winter Festival arrived. Zeke woke before dawn, noticing a letter that had been slipped under the door during the night. He hopped out of bed and snatched it up. "Is it for me?" Ralph asked, sitting up. His red hair stuck straight up on one side like a rooster''s comb. "Both of us," Zeke replied, fighting back a laugh at his roommate''s appearance. He broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. "The Headmistress cordially invites all students down to the Dueling Arena for the Winter Festival. Dress for indoors, but bring outdoor clothing if you wish to venture outside." "Outside?" Zeke frowned, rereading the last line. "Why would we want to¡ª" His voice trailed off as he glanced toward the window. Large, thick flakes of snow drifted lazily past the glass. A grin spread across his face as he jumped up for a better look. "Snow!" he exclaimed, rushing to his wardrobe. "Perfect timing!" Ralph groaned, pulling his blanket over his head. "Gross." "How can you not like snow?" Zeke asked, pulling on his boots. "Back home we hardly ever got any. Too far south." "The Arnette Estate is practically at the edge of the northern wilds," Ralph muttered from beneath his covers. "I''ve seen enough snow to last three lifetimes." While Ralph continued grumbling, Zeke finished dressing and bounded down the long spiral staircase. The main halls were already filling with students heading toward the Dueling Arena. Zeke joined the flow, his excitement building with each step. When he entered the arena, he stopped in his tracks, mouth hanging open. The space had been transformed into a winter wonderland. Magical snow swirled in intricate patterns overhead, weaving between banners and torches without ever touching the ground. Below, the entire arena floor was filled with tables heaped with food, student displays from various classes, and small performance stages. "Isn''t this magical?" Elise appeared beside him, her eyes bright with wonder. Music drifted from one corner of the room, a gentle melody played on strings and flutes. "It really is," Zeke nodded. "Way better than the Fall Festival." "You just say that because Diocletian tried to kill you," Elise said with a laugh. "And I think that''s a perfectly valid reason," Zeke replied with a grin. He followed Elise as she headed toward a round table at the side of the arena. She carried a platter of pastries he recognized immediately. "You got them made! Which recipe did you go with?" Elise shrugged. "Actually, believe it or not, I managed to find some real cinnamon. It was in a different part of the pantry, not labeled as a spice." She held up the platter for him to see. Despite her words, the pastries looked and smelled identical to the ones they''d made together weeks ago. "But you went with our Academy style anyway," Zeke said, surprised. "I decided to go with what we made together," Elise said simply. "It just seemed more fitting, somehow." A warmth that had nothing to do with the heated room spread through Zeke''s chest. They placed her entry on the contest table among dozens of other baked goods, though none looked nearly as appealing as Elise''s rolls. Suddenly, a commotion erupted from the entrance. A crowd had formed, people craning their necks and talking excitedly as they pushed forward. "What''s going on?" Zeke asked, standing on tiptoes to see over the crowd. Elise, being taller, gasped. "Zeke! That''s your brother!" "Artax?" Zeke''s jaw dropped. Without hesitation, he darted forward, weaving through the crowd like an eel through water. People parted as he approached, and suddenly there he was¡ªArtax de''Godfrey in the flesh. His brother stood tall in his full battle armor, complete with several dents that told the story of his dragon fight more eloquently than words ever could. His broken sword hung at his right side, balanced by a new blade on his left. When he spotted Zeke, his serious expression broke into a wide grin. "There you are!" Artax exclaimed, opening his arms wide. "I''ve been looking all over for you!" Zeke rushed forward, nearly tackling his brother with a hug. Despite the cold metal armor, the embrace felt warmer than any fire. "You should have told me you were coming!" Zeke said, stepping back to look at his brother. "When did you get here?" "A couple hours ago. We rode through the night to make it in time," Artax replied, looking around the transformed arena. "It looks just like I remember it." "It''s amazing," Zeke agreed. "But what are you doing here?" "To see you, of course!" Artax beamed. Noticing the crowd still watching them eagerly, he turned to address the onlookers. "Alright! I''ll do a meet and greet this afternoon at three. Anyone who approaches me before then gets put on my blacklist. I came to spend time with my brother, not tell war stories." The crowd groaned but dispersed respectfully. Artax turned back to Zeke with a more relaxed smile. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. "Well," Zeke said, "want me to show you around?" "This is your school now. You show me around," Artax replied. Zeke glanced back and spotted Elise hovering uncertainly at a distance. He waved her over. "Artax, this is Elise. She''s one of my best friends here." "Good friends, huh?" Artax said with a wink that made Zeke''s ears burn. He extended his hand to Elise, who curtsied before shaking it. "Good to meet you. You''re from the commons?" Elise nodded. "Yes, I''m afraid so." "Nothing wrong with that at all," Artax replied, studying her. "Your accent... Redriver Province?" Elise''s eyes widened. "You can tell?" "I did a tour of duty there about four years ago. One of my first assignments after graduating," Artax explained. "Had to clear out a family of ogres from a swamp near a village called... Brimstone, I think?" "Yes!" Elise nodded enthusiastically. "I remember when that happened. Brimstone was about a day''s ride from my home." "The people of Redriver were exceptionally good to me," Artax said warmly. "I''ve never forgotten that trip. So tell me, what''s your specialty here at the Academy?" As they walked around the arena, Elise explained her studies in magical theory and herbalism. Zeke added stories about her skills in the kitchen, which made Elise blush and change the subject to ask Artax about his adventures. The day unfolded in a parade of delights. A theater club performed a play about star-crossed lovers from rival houses, though unlike the traditional tale, this version ended with both lovers imprisoned by their families, never to see each other again. The audience applauded enthusiastically despite the dark ending. Next came a talent show featuring everything from juggling and magic tricks to singing groups. There were no winners declared; it was simply a chance for students to showcase their abilities. "When I was here," Artax whispered to Zeke, "I did a sword-swallowing act. Nearly cut my throat, but the applause was worth it." "Really?" Zeke asked, impressed. "No," Artax laughed. "I can''t believe you fell for that." After the performances, the judges began evaluating the baking contest entries. Five judges, including Ericka from the cooking class, sampled each dish with serious expressions. Zeke, Artax, and Elise watched nervously as they approached Elise''s pastries. "And the winner is..." the head judge announced after deliberation, "Elise Arvand''s Butterflower Rolls!" Elise gasped in delight as everyone applauded. She accepted a small blue ribbon and returned to Zeke and Artax, beaming. "Congratulations!" Zeke said, giving her a quick hug. "Well deserved," Artax added. "I can''t wait to try them." Once the contest ended, all food entries were available for general consumption. Zeke helped himself to several of Elise''s rolls, along with a sampling of other treats. As they enjoyed their snacks, the doors to the outer courtyards swung open. Snow covered the grounds outside¡ªreal snow, not the magical display inside. Students poured out to engage in sleigh rides and snowball fights. "My roommate''s over there," Elise said, pointing to a girl waving enthusiastically near one of the sleighs. "She wants us to take a ride together. I should go. I''ll catch up with you later?" "Go have fun!" Zeke encouraged her. As she hurried away, Artax nudged him with an elbow. "She''s cute." "Stop it," Zeke muttered, though he couldn''t keep from smiling. "Hey, warriors can have relationships too, you know," Artax said. He nodded toward the sleighs. "Want to take a ride?" "Isn''t that just something guys do with people they love?" Zeke asked skeptically. Artax clutched his chest in mock offense. "Are you saying you don''t love me, little brother?" "What? That''s not¡ª" Zeke began. "Come on!" Artax laughed. "I''m the most famous knight in the castle, which means I can do whatever I want. And by extension, so can you." Zeke wasn''t entirely convinced by that logic, but he followed his brother anyway. They joined the line for sleighs, about ten people behind Elise and her roommate. From here, Zeke could see the full extent of the snowfall¡ªit covered the Academy grounds completely but stopped precisely at the walls. Not a flake had fallen beyond them. "This little stunt takes the weather mages weeks to prepare," Artax commented as they moved forward in line. "They hate every second of it, but the Headmistress insists there must be snow." "She''s not someone you want to disappoint," Zeke agreed. "No indeed!" Artax laughed. A few minutes later, they climbed into a sleigh pulled by two dappled gray horses. As they glided across the snow-covered grounds, the noise of the festival faded behind them. The silence, broken only by the soft crunching of snow beneath the runners, was peaceful. "Zeke?" Artax said after a while. "There''s something I want to talk to you about." "What''s that?" Zeke asked, turning to his brother. "Well..." Artax adjusted his gauntlets. "I thought you should be the first to know that I just got engaged. I''m getting married in the spring." "What?" Zeke''s face split into a huge grin. "That''s amazing! Congratulations!" The smile faltered slightly. "Not to someone from House Minziar, I hope?" "No, no," Artax laughed. "Actually, she''s not from a noble house at all. Back before I left for the Academy, there was this girl from our village. The baker''s daughter. We were sweethearts all through childhood. Now that I''m home for good, we''ve rekindled things." "And she never got married all this time?" Zeke asked, surprised. "Said she kept waiting for the right guy to show up, and no one compared to me," Artax shrugged, trying and failing to look modest. "Anyway, I''d like you to be my best man." "I''d be honored," Zeke said immediately. After a moment''s thought, he asked, "What does Father think about you marrying a commoner?" "Well..." Artax rubbed the back of his neck. "Let''s just say that... You know how you were treated growing up? That''s more or less how I''m being treated now. He''s not unkind, but his mind is always on matters of state. He''s concerned with how the House can benefit, and there''s little I can do to affect that now." "That''s not true," Zeke frowned. "You''re still the heir." "Only in name, not in practice," Artax said. "Everyone sees you as the heir now. When the time comes, even if my name is on the paper, it will all go to you." "I don''t want to take that from you!" Zeke protested, sitting up straight. "You''re my brother! I never wanted to replace you." "You''re not taking anything from me," Artax assured him, placing a hand on Zeke''s shoulder. "Honestly, this has made things easier. I''ve thought about Samantha ever since I left for the Academy. Being back now, I can pursue that dream. I never could have done it before, both because of my duties and because such a marriage would have given our enemies political ammunition. Now I''m free. I''m having a good life, and from what I can see, so are you." Zeke looked up at the castle as they passed by a towering wall. "I''m still figuring it all out, but I am enjoying it. It''s good, even when it''s exhausting." "You''ve got a lot of pressure on you," Artax acknowledged. "But from what I hear, you''re putting in the work, and it''s paying off." He grinned suddenly. "Now, tell me about all the mischief you''ve gotten into." "I really haven''t," Zeke answered. "What?" Artax looked genuinely shocked. "How many times have you snuck out after curfew?" "Once," Zeke admitted. "Only once?" Artax seemed appalled. "And how many times have you gone down into the sewers looking for sewer worms?" Zeke''s jaw dropped. "Why would I ever do that?" "For the fun of it!" Artax sighed dramatically. "At least tell me you figured out the secret of the stone lion?" "I tried," Zeke winced. "For how long?" "Five minutes." Artax''s groan was audible over the clopping of hooves and the crunching of snow. "We need to have a long talk about making the most of your Academy years." "I''ve been a little busy trying not to get killed or expelled," Zeke reminded him. "Between Diocletian''s challenges, the Senate''s plot against our house, and the 34 Trials that I can''t fail even once..." "Fair point," Artax conceded. "But there''s more to the Academy than just training. Some of my best memories are from the adventures between classes." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Did you know there''s a hidden passage behind the kitchens that leads directly to the east tower? Saved me from getting caught out after curfew at least a dozen times." "Really?" Zeke leaned forward, suddenly interested. "Where exactly?" "Third pantry, behind the flour barrels," Artax said, grinning at his brother''s enthusiasm. "Push on the wall stone with the chip in the corner. But be careful¡ªsometimes the night cook uses it for secret meetups with the librarian''s assistant." Zeke laughed, storing this information away for future use. As the sleigh rounded a bend, bringing the main hall back into view, he felt a new appreciation for his time at the Academy. He''d been so focused on survival and proving himself that he''d missed some of the adventure along the way. "So about that stone lion," Zeke said casually. "Any hints?" Artax''s eyes twinkled. "Let''s just say its secret involves the full moon, midnight, and knowing which ruby eye to press first." "Left or right?" Zeke pressed. "Where would the fun be if I just told you?" Artax laughed. "Some things you need to discover for yourself." As they completed their circuit of the grounds, Zeke smiled contentedly. Whether or not riding in a sleigh with his brother was considered cool didn''t matter one bit. He was getting to spend time with Artax away from the crowds and chaos, learning secrets of the Academy he might never have discovered on his own. "Tell me more about these sewer worms," Zeke said as they approached the sleigh station. "And exactly how dangerous are they?" Artax grinned. "Well, they''re not exactly dangerous, but they are exceptionally slimy..." As the brothers stepped down from the sleigh, Artax launched into another tale of Academy mischief, and Zeke listened eagerly, already planning his next adventure. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior Endurance [Active Quests:] [Winter Days: Enjoy the Winter Festival!] 32. Winter Training [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Outer Courtyards] [Date: December 28, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] The Winter Festival ended, but there was hardly a break to speak of. While some students traveled to the Capital for the official week-long holiday, most of the Academy''s activities continued as normal. Classes focusing on specialized topics not covered in the regular curriculum were offered as "optional" sessions. Zeke signed up for all of them. "You''re taking the advanced theory of magical resonance?" Ralph asked incredulously when he saw Zeke''s schedule. "That''s not even required for third-years!" "Can''t hurt to know more," Zeke replied with a shrug, tucking the schedule into his notebook. "Besides, I''ve got nothing better to do while you''re visiting your cousins." The truth was, with his next Trial less than a month away and no room for failure, Zeke wasn''t about to waste even a day of potential training. If that meant spending his winter break in classrooms while others relaxed, so be it. Victoria''s outdoor sparring sessions were the toughest to endure. Once the major storm passed, she immediately moved all training back to the snow-covered yard, where bitter winds cut through even the thickest training clothes. "When you''re up against a frost troll, it isn''t going to stand there and ask if you want to put on insulated armor before it starts fighting you!" Victoria shouted over the howling wind. "When the barbarians realize that the rivers are frozen and they can attack by routes that were previously impassable, they''re not going to wait around for warmer weather! You have to learn to tough it out!" Zeke grinned despite his numb fingers. "Wouldn''t expect anything less from you, Victoria!" He pushed through the discomfort, ignoring the way his sword felt like an icicle in his grip and how his muscles stiffened in the cold. After each session, he''d return to the common room with his fellow students, all of them stamping snow from their boots and laughing about their various slips and falls. "You''re getting better," Victoria told him after a particularly grueling session. "Your form is tighter, and you''re adapting to the cold." "Thanks," Zeke said, rubbing feeling back into his fingers. "Though I think my toes might not speak to me for a while." Victoria''s mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. "Tomorrow we add weights." Zeke just nodded. Whatever it took. The one gap in his training schedule was Professor Harold''s sessions. The professor had traveled to the Capital on business, promising to return before the start of the next term. On the day Professor Harold was due back, Zeke climbed the long spiral staircase to the man''s office and knocked firmly on the door. "Come in, come in," Professor Harold called, swinging the door open with a look of pleasant surprise. "You really aren''t a slacker, are you?" Zeke stepped into the warm office with its familiar scent of old books and magical components. "My next Trial has something to do with Aura Infusion, and it''s less than a month away. One mistake and my house falls. So yeah, I figured we should get back to it." "You''re going to do great," Professor Harold assured him, motioning Zeke to a chair. "I can tell you right now that you''re more prepared than your brother was when he completed it. Only took him one try, too." "Still, he had the option of failing," Zeke said, taking his seat. "Everyone expects me to be this great warrior because of my family name. I''ve got to live up to it." "I''m not saying anything you''re doing is bad," Professor Harold said, gathering training materials from a nearby shelf. "Frankly, I''m impressed. When you first arrived, everyone expected you to crash and burn ¨C that you wouldn''t have the stamina to train and study. From what I can tell, you''re putting most everyone else to shame." The professor set a collection of metal rods on the table between them. "I''m pleased to be working with you, and I''m glad you came by today. Actually, I just got back from a meeting with your father." "Really?" Zeke perked up immediately. "What did he say about me?" "Not much specifically. He asked how your studies were going, that sort of thing," Professor Harold replied. "Most of our interactions were in a larger setting. House Hobbson met with representatives from Houses Godfrey and Reinfir to discuss the transfer of border territories and fortresses we''ve been unable to maintain. I think we worked out a deal that will benefit both our houses." The professor arranged the metal rods in a specific pattern. "Your father is an impressive man. I can see how House Godfrey has managed to survive these past generations. Most noble houses would have crumbled fifty years ago." Pride welled up in Zeke''s chest as he picked up the metal rods Professor Harold had set out. Without needing instructions, he began the familiar warm-up exercise ¨C passing his aura from one rod into a matching rod on the table, then touching it with a rod in his opposite hand to transfer the energy back into his body. "Do you mind if I ask you something?" Zeke asked as he worked through the exercise. "That depends on what it is," Professor Harold looked up with a knowing smile. "I have a feeling you''re about to dip your toes into political waters again, which I believe we''ve established you''re not well-equipped to tread." "Yeah, maybe a bit," Zeke laughed. "Don''t even take this as a proper request. I don''t want to jeopardize these training sessions or the relationship between our houses." Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. "Alright," Professor Harold nodded. "Normally, I would understand such a statement to be a veiled threat or probe, but with you, I''ll take it at face value. You''re honestly just searching for information. Tell me, what can I do for you?" "I was wondering about the library of House Levayne," Zeke said, continuing the exercise with a steady hand. "House Godfrey has long been allied with House Levayne, and when House Godfrey suddenly signed an alliance with House Hobbson¡ª" "It damaged your relationship with House Levayne," Professor Harold finished. "And you''re trying to see if you can mend that relationship somewhat?" "More or less," Zeke nodded. "I only know what I''ve heard from Adrian, the librarian here. I don''t have a clue what House Hobbson''s side of the story is. I just figured I''d bring it up and see what might come from it." Professor Harold considered this for a moment, his expression thoughtful rather than annoyed. "Well, the story from House Hobbson''s perspective is fairly straightforward. House Levayne had been hoarding documents that rightfully belonged to other houses ¨C genealogies, histories, magical tomes, the whole works. They were positioning themselves to become the intellectual center of the kingdom." He adjusted one of the rods as Zeke continued his exercise. "When several noble houses complained, the Senate launched an investigation and determined that House Levayne had indeed violated numerous laws and conventions. The library was seized and held by the Senate for almost twenty years." "What happened then?" Zeke asked, genuinely curious. "All information deemed to have been improperly withheld was copied and distributed to the proper owners. The collection was made ready to return to House Levayne, but by then they had fallen on hard times. The patriarch sold the collection to House Hobbson to pay debts incurred after a barbarian raid. It wasn''t until several generations later that House Levayne began accusing us of impropriety, but by then, there was simply nothing to be done." "Interesting," Zeke said, considering both sides of the story. It was likely somewhere in the middle of what Adrian had told him and what Professor Harold just shared. Maybe House Hobbson had paid the barbarians to attack? Or perhaps House Levayne was trying to rewrite history in their favor? Either way, it was clear why the issue had remained unresolved for so long. "So, master politician, what would you propose?" Professor Harold asked, his tone not mocking but genuinely curious. "Can you think of a solution, or at least a way to partially heal those wounds? Or should it remain a sore point between the houses for another hundred generations?" Zeke thought for a moment, then offered, "What if a small handful of books could be returned? Nothing large, just a few items from the original collection that deal most closely with House Levayne''s history? Things they would consider treasures but that haven''t been touched by anyone in House Hobbson in decades?" "An interesting proposal," Professor Harold said, inclining his head. "Allow me to think on it." "You''re serious?" Zeke asked, surprised. "I was serious when I told you that House Hobbson is allied with House Godfrey. You stand as the heir of House Godfrey, and that makes your word mean something. Don''t forget that," Professor Harold said firmly. "But I''m not the heir," Zeke protested. "From what I gather, your brother is marrying a commoner," the professor said with a shrug. "Not that I disapprove of such things personally, but when the eldest son does this, it''s usually seen as effectively relinquishing the throne." Zeke looked down for a moment, conflicted about his brother''s situation and his own unexpected position. "Well, thank you for considering it, at least." "I cannot promise anything will come of it," Professor Harold cautioned, raising a finger. "That said, it does seem a reasonable request. A few books that haven''t been noticed in years? You have the makings of a diplomat yet." He gestured to the training materials. "Now, let''s get to work on what you have to master, which is Aura Transfer." They dove into the real training, focusing on the theory and practice of moving aura outside the body. Zeke picked up a cup of blackish liquid and focused on transferring his aura into it. The surface quivered like the ground during an earthquake, then settled. "Very good," Professor Harold murmured. "Now try to bring it out." Zeke took a deep breath and began to direct the liquid with his aura. It flowed up and out of the cup, over the rim, down onto the saucer and then the desk. There, it formed a quivering blob. Beads of sweat broke out on Zeke''s forehead, but he maintained focus. "Not bad," Professor Harold nodded. "Try to shape it." Zeke gritted his teeth as he concentrated, forcing the blob of liquid to pull itself upward. First a head formed, then two arms, followed by legs. The figure was lumpy and misshapen ¨C like a clay figure made by a child ¨C but it held its shape. A vast improvement over his first attempts, which had ended with exploding saucers and liquid splattered across the ceiling. Professor Harold smiled warmly, then placed a second cup on the far side of the table. Before giving further instructions, he laid several sheets of white paper between the two cups. "I want you to walk it across without making a single footprint," he said. Zeke nodded and focused even harder. The figure took its first step, then another, then a third. As he concentrated on keeping the feet intact, the head began to wobble and melt. Zeke gasped and quickly stabilized the figure. When it was back in shape, it took another step, nearly losing its balance as the arms started to dissolve. Finally, it reached the other cup, climbed in, and splashed back into liquid form. Zeke let out a relieved breath and leaned back in his chair. Professor Harold examined the papers. "Not terrible. You left two footprints, though." Looking closer, Zeke saw two small spots where he''d lost focus, allowing drops of the liquid to fall onto the paper. Professor Harold simply handed him the cup again and took the empty one. "Shall we try again?" "Absolutely," Zeke said, setting his jaw in determination. For the next hour, the figure crossed the desk three more times. Each attempt resulted in only a single footprint ¨C progress, though not yet perfection. By the fourth crossing, Zeke was exhausted but satisfied with his improvement. "That''s enough for today," Professor Harold said, noting Zeke''s fatigue. "We''ll continue this for the next few sessions until you can complete a crossing without leaving any prints. I know it might seem like busywork, but¡ª" "No, I get it," Zeke said, standing up and stretching. "I need better control. Precision matters as much as power." "Exactly right. A finely attuned aura will take you further than the most powerful one, any day," Professor Harold confirmed. "A hammer is no weapon for fighting a dragon." "Unless it''s a really, really big hammer," Zeke quipped. Professor Harold laughed. "I suppose there''s always that exception." As Zeke prepared to leave, he paused at the door. "Professor? Thank you. Not just for the training, but for taking my question seriously." "You''re welcome, Zeke," the professor replied. "You''re approaching politics differently than most young nobles ¨C with genuine interest in resolution rather than advantage. That''s rare, and worth encouraging." Zeke smiled and slipped out into the hall, starting down the stairs with a lighter step despite his physical exhaustion. The week ahead would be grueling with all his extra classes and training, but every day brought him closer to being ready for the next Trial. He had a long way to go, but he was making up ground fast. With luck, it would be enough to get him through. With even more luck, he might actually help House Godfrey secure new alliances along the way. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Zeke spotted Ingrid and a few other students heading toward the training yard, despite the fading daylight and bitter cold. "Extra practice session?" he called out to them. "Victoria''s idea," Ingrid replied with a rueful smile. "Night fighting in winter conditions." "Give me two minutes to grab my gear," Zeke said, already changing direction toward his dormitory. Ingrid looked surprised. "You don''t have to. These are completely optional." "I know," Zeke grinned. "But how often do you get to practice fighting in the dark while freezing? Can''t miss that opportunity." As he jogged to his room to grab his training sword, Zeke felt a surge of energy despite his earlier fatigue. He might not be the heir anyone expected, but he was determined to be the knight House Godfrey needed ¨C even if that meant training until he couldn''t feel his fingers or toes. For House Godfrey. For Artax. For himself. Two minutes later, he rejoined the group, sword in hand and ready for whatever Victoria had planned for them in the snowy darkness. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [Working Overtime: Make the most of the short winter break] 33. Meat Pies [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Outer Courtyards] [Date: December 30, y. 485 of the Fourth Age] The training yard lay buried under six inches of fresh snow as Zeke charged across it, wooden practice sword raised high. Victoria waited on the other side, her own blade at the ready. The bitter dawn air stung his lungs, but he grinned anyway. Nothing woke you up faster than a morning duel in freezing temperatures. "You''re getting predictable, Godfrey!" Victoria shouted as she easily sidestepped his attack and rapped him sharply on the back with her practice blade. Zeke rolled with the hit and spun around, already planning his next move. "Just warming up!" Five other early-risers watched from the sidelines, stamping their feet and blowing into cupped hands for warmth. Victoria had started these optional dawn sessions three weeks ago, and Zeke hadn''t missed a single one. He feinted left, then dropped to one knee and swept his blade in a low arc. Victoria jumped the attack but wasn''t expecting his follow-up - a handful of snow flung at her face. She sputtered and stumbled backward, giving Zeke just enough time to tap her side with his sword. "Point!" called one of the watchers. Victoria wiped snow from her face, her expression caught between annoyance and grudging respect. "Dirty trick." "You said use any advantage," Zeke reminded her with a grin. "So I did." She reset her stance. "Again." They continued for another half-hour until the bells rang for breakfast. By then, Zeke''s muscles burned pleasantly and his tunic was soaked with sweat despite the cold. These morning sessions were brutal, but he welcomed any edge he could get with his next Trial looming. "Same time tomorrow?" he asked Victoria as they gathered their gear. "It''s New Year''s Eve," she replied, arching an eyebrow. "Even better. We''ll have the yard to ourselves." Victoria shook her head but looked pleased. "Fine. Don''t be late." Back in his dormitory, Ralph was still a lump under his blankets as Zeke changed into dry clothes. "Last day of freedom," Ralph moaned from his cocoon. "You''re insane, you know that?" "Can''t waste daylight," Zeke replied cheerfully, pulling on his boots. "Besides, the cold wakes you up better than any coffee." Ralph just pulled his pillow over his head in response. The day stretched before Zeke like a challenge waiting to be conquered. By lunchtime, he had attended an optional lecture on advanced defensive spellcraft and practiced sword forms for another hour. His muscles protested, but his mind felt sharper than ever. He was halfway through a bowl of stew in the dining hall when Elise dropped into the seat across from him, her eyes bright with excitement. "What''s up?" he asked, noticing her grin. "You look like you just discovered a new spell." Her face fell slightly. "Don''t you remember what tonight is?" Zeke bit his lip, mentally flipping through his crowded schedule. "Ah..." He closed his eyes and held up a finger. "Don''t tell me... Don''t tell me..." "Meat pies!" Zeke snapped his fingers. "Right! For some reason I was thinking that was tomorrow." "Nope, tonight," she said, suddenly looking worried. "You''ll still be able to make it, right?" "Definitely," Zeke nodded, tearing off a chunk of bread. "It''s not like I''m doing much. I''ll head down to the kitchens as soon as I''m done with Professor Hobbson." "Great! I''ll see you then!" She started to rise, then paused. "You know, if you ever come up with anything that you''d like to invite me to, I''d be more than happy to join you." Zeke flashed a smile. "I know, I know. Honestly, I just haven''t run into much that excites me the way cooking excites you." "Yeah," she frowned, looking down at the table. "Is that okay?" Zeke raised an eyebrow. "I can ask if you can tag along for one of my private tutoring sessions with Professor Harold if you want." "No, no," she shook her head. "It''s nothing. I just... I''m glad that you''re sharing the things I like to do, but I''d also like to share in the things you like to do." She shrugged. "I don''t know, maybe I''m overthinking it. I''ll see you tonight." As she walked away, Zeke frowned thoughtfully. What did he like to do? Growing up, he''d spent most of his time chasing girls or finding ways to avoid his father''s disapproving gaze. Since arriving at Leoncrest, he''d been so focused on survival and training that he hadn''t made time for anything else. "Huh," he muttered to himself, "maybe I need to fix that." That afternoon, Zeke found himself in Professor Harold''s study, carefully manipulating a blob of shimmering aura-infused liquid. The professor had challenged him to form it into increasingly complex shapes, and Zeke''s forehead beaded with sweat as he willed the substance to take the form of a small castle. "Excellent control," Professor Harold noted as tiny crenellations formed along the miniature battlements. "You''ve improved remarkably since we began." The liquid castle held its shape for nearly a minute before collapsing back into a formless blob. Zeke exhaled slowly, feeling the drain on his energy reserves. "Thanks for squeezing me in during the break," Zeke said, wiping his brow. "I know most professors are taking time off." "Happy to help a dedicated student," Professor Harold replied, storing the aura-liquid in a sealed container. "Besides, your next Trial is approaching. How are you feeling about it?" "Ready as I''ll ever be," Zeke said with more confidence than he felt. "Whatever it is, I''ll handle it." The professor studied him for a moment. "You know, when you first arrived, most of the faculty expected you to quit within a week. Too soft, they said. No discipline." He smiled slightly. "I believe I''ve won several bets on your behalf." Zeke grinned. "Glad to be profitable for someone." "More than profitable. Inspiring, actually." The professor glanced at the clock on his wall. "I believe that''s enough for today. Don''t you have somewhere to be this evening?" "The cooking club," Zeke confirmed, gathering his things. "We''re making meat pies." "Ah, Ericka''s famous regional cuisine experiment," Professor Harold nodded knowingly. "She''s been quite excited about it. Do enjoy yourself." Zeke paused at the door. "Professor, did you have any hobbies when you were a student here? Besides studying, I mean." "Indeed I did," the professor replied, looking amused. "I was quite the spelunker. The cave systems beneath Leoncrest are fascinating, though strictly off-limits to students now." He winked. "For good reason." Zeke filed this information away for later consideration as he headed toward the kitchens. The cooking classroom was more crowded than he''d ever seen it. Students from all years had packed in, filling every workstation. Elise had managed to secure a spot near the front, and she waved enthusiastically when she saw him. Ericka sat at the back with a notebook, talking to a group of students who all appeared to be commoners ¨C none wore house colors, though their clothes, while simpler than the nobles'', were far from shabby. "I think we''re just about ready to begin!" Elise said as Zeke joined her at the workstation. "So we''re making meat pies tonight?" Zeke asked, rolling up his sleeves. "What exactly makes them so special?" This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it "They''re one of the oldest dishes in the kingdom," Elise replied with a grin. "Every region has their own version, and they tell you so much about the people who make them. You''ll see!" Ericka approached the front of the room, consulting her notebook before addressing the gathered students. "Alright, everyone! Welcome to this very special edition of our little cooking club." Her voice carried more excitement than Zeke had heard from the usually reserved instructor. "When Elise mentioned at our last meeting that we should make meat pies, I had no idea what was in store for me. After discussing ingredients with her, I began my own research, and what I discovered was fascinating." Zeke leaned against the counter, intrigued despite his fatigue. "Elise mentioned that every region has its own version of meat pies, but that''s quite an understatement," Ericka continued. "These pies are perhaps the most culturally significant dish across our kingdom. They reflect not just taste preferences, but trade routes, available resources, and even historical conflicts between regions!" Elise leaned closer to Zeke. "When she said she found it fascinating, she wasn''t joking. She''s writing a historical treatise on meat pies ¨C twenty pages so far, and she hasn''t even gotten past the Northern Wars." Zeke chuckled as Elise and four other students made their way to the front. Each described their region''s pie variation. Though the basics remained the same ¨C pastry crust with a meat filling ¨C the differences were remarkable. A student from the mountainous regions used goat meat with strong herbs and stone-ground wheat crust. Elise''s homeland version featured beef and root vegetables with a hint of wine. A coastal student described seafood pies with butter-rich crusts. After the students finished, Ericka delivered a ten-minute lecture detailing even more regional variations. Though interesting, Zeke found himself shifting his weight impatiently. He''d come to cook, not sit through another lecture. Finally, Ericka clapped her hands. "For tonight''s meeting, you''ll be making your own meat pie ¨C whatever style you prefer. In the next room, there''s a table with all the ingredients we could find. I have recipes for different crusts and fillings... Go ahead and dive in!" The room erupted in activity as students rushed to gather ingredients. Zeke turned to Elise. "What are we making?" "Oh, I don''t know," she shrugged with a casualness that immediately struck Zeke as suspicious. "What would you want to do?" "What aren''t you telling me?" Zeke asked, crossing his arms. "You love choosing what we make." "I let you help choose the spice for the cinnamon rolls," Elise pointed out. "And then you made the final call," Zeke countered with a grin. "Come on, I know there''s something going on." Elise sighed, then lowered her voice. "Ericka is running an experiment. She''s recording how everyone makes their pies to see if nobles from particular regions create versions similar to commoners from the same area." "That''s brilliant," Zeke said, genuinely impressed. "And I have no idea how commoners from my region make meat pies, so I''ll be a perfect test subject." They set to work, Zeke following his instincts. The pastry came together under his fingers ¨C he opted for a richer crust than he''d used before, with plenty of butter. For the filling, he faced a dizzying array of options. Ericka had provided meats from across the kingdom, vegetables of every description, and more herbs and spices than he knew existed. He moved down the line, sampling unfamiliar ingredients and trusting his gut on what would taste good together. His final creation featured venison and pork, apples, onions, and a blend of herbs topped with a lattice crust. "How''d I do?" he asked Elise as he slid his creation into the oven. "How close to my region''s style?" Elise pulled a folded paper from her pocket and examined it. "Pretty close, actually. This is what Ericka predicted you''d create, and it''s not far off. The apples are exactly right ¨C that''s unique to your southern province." Zeke peered at the list and laughed at the similarities. "Maybe there''s something to this theory after all." Soon the room filled with the mingled aromas of baking pastry, simmering meat, and herbs as students retrieved their creations from the ovens. "Behold the meeting of cultures!" Ericka proclaimed, gesturing around the room. "Try your own, try others, enjoy!" The feast lasted another hour, with students wandering from station to station, sampling different regional styles and comparing notes. When it finally ended, Ericka distributed permission slips for students to return to their dormitories after curfew. Rather than heading straight back to his room, Zeke decided to take a detour. The cooking session had ended just before midnight, and the castle halls were nearly deserted. Perfect for a little exploring. "Where are you going?" Elise asked as they reached the main corridor junction. "Just thought I''d take the scenic route back," Zeke replied with a mischievous smile. "Care to join me?" Elise glanced at her permission slip. "We''re only cleared to go straight back to our dormitories." "Technically, there''s no rule saying which route we have to take," Zeke pointed out. "Besides, I''ve been thinking about what Professor Harold told me earlier." "Which was?" "That there are cave systems beneath the castle." Elise''s eyes widened. "You''re not seriously thinking of¡ª" "No, no," Zeke laughed. "Not tonight, anyway. But I thought I might check out the old library section. The one with maps of the castle grounds. Just to see what''s there." Elise hesitated, then shook her head. "You''re insane. If you get caught¡ª" "I won''t," Zeke said confidently. "The patrol gargoyles are on a predictable route. I''ve been timing them." "Of course you have," Elise sighed. "I should have known you weren''t just sitting there counting the seconds during study hall." She bit her lip. "Look, I need to get back, but... be careful, okay?" "Always am," Zeke assured her, though they both knew that wasn''t entirely true. After they parted ways, Zeke made his way to the eastern wing of the castle. The old library section was rarely used these days ¨C most of its contents had been transferred to the main library over the years. But some of the older, fragile maps and architectural drawings remained in their original location. The door creaked slightly as he pushed it open, and he froze, listening for any sound of approaching gargoyles. When he heard nothing, he slipped inside and closed the door behind him. Moonlight streamed through tall windows, illuminating rows of dusty shelves. Unlike the main library with its orderly organization, this room had a forgotten quality to it. Scrolls and leather-bound volumes sat haphazardly on shelves, some clearly untouched for years. Zeke moved carefully through the stacks, looking for anything related to the castle''s structure or underground passages. After several minutes of searching, he found a large leather portfolio labeled "Leoncrest Foundations and Lower Levels - Original Plans." "Jackpot," he whispered, carefully lifting it from the shelf. He carried it to a reading table near one of the windows, where the moonlight provided enough illumination to see. Inside were detailed architectural drawings of the castle''s lowest levels, including what appeared to be natural cave formations that had been incorporated into the structure''s foundation. Several of the caves had been marked with strange symbols. Notes in the margins indicated some had been sealed off due to "unstable conditions" or "unsuitable air quality." But one passage in particular caught Zeke''s attention ¨C a tunnel marked "Sealed by order of Headmaster Levayne, 413 F.A." with no further explanation. The tunnel appeared to connect to a chamber directly beneath the western courtyard. If the measurements were accurate, the entrance would be... A sudden scraping sound from the corridor outside made Zeke freeze. The distinctive sound of stone claws on marble could only mean one thing ¨C a patrol gargoyle was approaching. He quickly returned the portfolio to its shelf and looked around for a hiding place. The footsteps grew louder, pausing just outside the door. Zeke ducked behind a tall bookcase, pressing himself into the corner as the door slowly creaked open. The gargoyle''s shadow stretched across the floor as it entered the room. Unlike the smaller gargoyles that guarded specific corridors, this one was massive ¨C easily seven feet tall with wings that brushed both sides of the doorframe. It moved with deliberate slowness, its stone head swiveling as it scanned the room. Zeke held his breath, willing himself to become one with the shadows. The gargoyle took several steps into the room, its stone talons clicking against the floor. It paused, sniffing the air like a predator seeking prey. For one heart-stopping moment, it turned directly toward Zeke''s hiding place. Then, just as he was certain he''d been discovered, a sound from the corridor drew its attention. With a final sweep of the room, it turned and lumbered back into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind it. Zeke waited several minutes before daring to move. That had been too close. He made a mental note to add larger patrol gargoyles to his timing observations. Still, the near-discovery hadn''t diminished his excitement about what he''d found. A sealed tunnel with no explanation was exactly the kind of mystery that begged to be investigated. Perhaps he''d found his hobby after all. He made it back to his dormitory without further incident, slipping through the door to find Ralph hunched over a textbook, a mug of coffee at his elbow. His roommate''s eyes were bloodshot, and he didn''t look up when Zeke entered. "Big test tomorrow?" Zeke guessed, flopping onto his bed. "Yeah, and I swear the professor never mentioned it," Ralph muttered. "Have to memorize the entire history of winemaking in the Bluelake province by morning." "Sounds rough," Zeke said, stretching out his tired muscles. "Hey, what sorts of things did you enjoy doing growing up?" "What do you mean?" Ralph asked, still not looking away from his book. "Like playing pranks?" "No, I mean sports. Hobbies. Things you did for fun." "Oh, I didn''t really enjoy any organized activities," Ralph shrugged. "I preferred goofing off. Team stuff takes too much effort." "Right," Zeke sighed, but Ralph continued. "But the rest of my family loved this game called lanceball." "Lanceball?" Zeke sat up. "What''s that?" "You''ve seen jousting tournaments, right?" Zeke nodded. He''d attended plenty of those growing up. "It''s like that, but on foot with padded lances, and you have to pass the ball between team members while avoiding getting tagged," Ralph explained. "House Arnette is crazy about it. Why, looking for a new hobby?" "Something like that," Zeke said, sitting up excitedly. "I just realized I spend all my time training or studying, but I never do anything just for fun. Elise mentioned it earlier, and it got me thinking." "If you try adding one more thing to that insane schedule of yours, you might actually explode," Ralph warned, finally looking up from his book. "You''d have to drop something first ¨C maybe that evening aura practice?" "That''s exactly what I was thinking," Zeke nodded. "If I pass my upcoming Aura Trial, I won''t need those extra sessions anymore. That opens up a chunk of time." "So what would you want to do with it?" Ralph asked, seemingly glad for the distraction from his studying. "Well, I found some interesting old maps tonight," Zeke said, lowering his voice. "Did you know there are cave systems beneath the castle?" Ralph''s eyes widened. "No way. Are you thinking of exploring them? That''s definitely against about fifty Academy rules." "Probably more," Zeke grinned. "But think about it ¨C no one''s been down there in years. Who knows what we might find?" "Collapse, death, expulsion," Ralph counted off on his fingers. "But also... potentially awesome discoveries." He looked torn between responsible caution and the allure of adventure. "I also thought about starting a lanceball team," Zeke added. "After all, if I''m going to have a hobby, it might as well be something I can share with friends. Something that gets me outside, uses strategy, and involves a bit of risk." "Now you''re talking," Ralph said, his enthusiasm growing. "We could organize informal matches in the eastern courtyard ¨C that one''s barely used in winter. I could probably get some equipment from home after the break." "And I bet Elise would enjoy watching," Zeke mused. "Maybe even playing." "Victoria too," Ralph suggested with a sly smile. "I''ve seen how you two are during training." "It''s not like that," Zeke protested, though he felt his ears warming. "She''d probably just enjoy having another way to knock me down." "All the more reason to invite her," Ralph laughed. "So, what''ll it be? Secret cave exploration or lanceball?" "Why not both?" Zeke said, reaching for a blank parchment. "I''m writing to Artax tonight about what he did for fun during his Academy days. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior Endurance [Active Quests:] [Letters Home: Write to Artax and ask him what he did for fun] [Time to Kill: Figure out what sort of a hobby you might want to do] 34. Snow Day [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Outer Courtyards] [Date: January 1, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] Dawn came in Leoncrest with a piercing cold that made windows crack and breath turn to fog. Zeke woke before his alarm, already grinning at the sight of fat snowflakes drifting past his window. A real blizzard had swept through overnight, not one of the weather mages'' controlled snowfalls. The Academy grounds would be transformed. "Perfect," he whispered, throwing off his blankets. Ralph groaned from the other bed. "By the gods, why are you so cheery? It''s freezing!" "New year, new snow," Zeke replied, pulling on an extra layer before his training clothes. "What better way to start it?" "Staying in bed until spring?" Ralph suggested, burying himself deeper under his covers. Zeke laughed as he laced his boots. "Missing out on the first day of the year is bad luck." "So is frostbite!" Shaking his head, Zeke headed for the door, grabbing his thickest cloak on the way out. The stone corridors were quiet, most students still sleeping off the previous night''s New Year celebrations. He moved briskly, breath clouding before him as he descended the tower stairs. The great hall was nearly empty, with only a few early risers huddled near the massive hearth where a fire roared. Zeke grabbed a hot roll and a mug of spiced cider before continuing toward the training yards. When he pushed open the heavy oak doors leading outside, the cold hit him like a wall. The bitter air swirled around him as he stepped into a transformed world. Snow lay thick across the grounds, smoothing the Academy''s sharp edges into gentle curves. The high towers wore white caps, and the sweeping rooftops sagged under the weight of fresh powder. Only the gargoyles remained clear, their stone bodies radiating enough heat to melt any snow that touched them. Zeke pulled his cloak tighter and trudged forward, his boots crunching through snow that reached halfway to his knees. The path to Victoria''s training ground had disappeared completely, but he followed the vague depression where others had already broken trail. When he arrived at the courtyard, he found Victoria and a handful of dedicated students already at work with shovels, clearing a practice space. Victoria spotted him and immediately tossed him a shovel. "About time you showed up, Godfrey!" Zeke caught the tool and grinned. "Wouldn''t miss it. Even the weather wants us to train harder." He threw himself into the work, shoveling with enthusiasm. The physical effort warmed him quickly, and soon he was clearing snow with his cloak thrown back. Victoria worked nearby, methodically cutting clean lines through the drifts. "Where''s everyone else?" Zeke asked, noticing their group was smaller than usual. Victoria snorted. "Apparently some people think a little snow is reason to skip training." "Their loss," Zeke said, heaving another shovelful. "More room for us." Within half an hour, they had cleared a decent practice space. The remaining students ¨C about a dozen in all ¨C gathered in the center of the courtyard, stamping their feet to stay warm. Victoria stepped forward, her breath clouding around her face. "Alright! This seems like a good day to practice combat in snow conditions! It doesn''t seem like it would be much different, but it really is. For starters, you''ll notice that even though we''ve cleared this area, the ground is still slick. It''s easy to lose your footing, and that can cost you your life. We''re going to begin by¡ª" She froze mid-sentence, spinning around with surprising speed. Her shield flashed up just in time to intercept a snowball that arced in from across the courtyard. The projectile exploded against the metal surface, and she lowered her shield slowly as a figure approached from the direction of the attack. "Hey! Reinfir! What do you say to a little skirmish?" Victoria narrowed her eyes as an upperclassman strode into the courtyard. He wore the burnt orange and bronze colors of House Burgson, and Zeke immediately understood the tension. Houses Burgson and Reinfir were bitter rivals, both commanding border territories and competing for military prestige. "And what sort of skirmish are we talking?" Victoria demanded, her stance shifting to something more defensive. "The sort that can only come from a day like today." The student bent down, scooped up a snowball, and lobbed it toward her again. She caught it on her shield with practiced ease. "Training Woods. We''re assembled and ready. See if you can successfully attack our fortifications." With that challenge delivered, he turned and walked away, his confidence unmistakable in every step. Victoria watched him go, then turned to her students with fire in her eyes. "Who wants to crush another training class in glorious combat?" Zeke''s hand shot up immediately, along with everyone else''s. A real battle ¨C even one fought with snow ¨C would be more valuable than any standard practice session. "That''s what I thought," Victoria nodded approvingly. "Form up! We march in two minutes!" The group quickly assembled their gear. Some strapped on light training shields, while others grabbed practice weapons ¨C not that they''d be using them, but old habits died hard. Zeke took a moment to adjust his boots, tightening the laces for better traction in the snow. "Heard of House Burgson before?" asked another student, a tall boy named Linus who usually partnered with Zeke during drills. "Only that they control the eastern borders," Zeke replied. "What''s their style?" "Defensive specialists," Linus said. "Big on fortifications and siege tactics. We''re in for a challenge if we''re attacking their position." "Good," Zeke grinned. "Wouldn''t be fun otherwise." Victoria called them to attention and led them toward the Training Woods. Though they hadn''t practiced much marching in formation, she quickly organized them into a reasonable column. As they approached the gate to the woods, she turned to address the group. "Alright! If I know House Burgson, they''ll have picked an easily defensible location. Likely a small grove of trees with trunks close together. They''ll have built walls between the trunks, giving them good cover with a long range of fire. Even though they''re behind walls, they''ll have stockpiled enough ammunition to outlast a direct assault." "So what''s the plan?" asked a third-year student near the front. Victoria thought for a moment, then smiled. "We''re going to use this as a tactical exercise. Divide into three groups ¨C A, B, and C Flanks. Each flank will be led by an upperclassman. Once we locate their fort, A Flank will attack head-on to draw their fire. B Flank will circle around and attack from one side, while C Flank hits from the other. They''ll be fighting on three fronts, which should force them to divide their attention." She paused, scanning the group. "And watch for ambushes. Burgson loves their traps. Let''s move!" They slipped through the gate and entered the Training Woods. Thankfully, the snow made tracking easy ¨C a well-trodden path led deeper into the trees, left by their opponents. Victoria took point, leading them through the quiet forest until, in the distance, they spotted their target. Just as Victoria had predicted, House Burgson had constructed a snow fortress between a cluster of trees. The walls stood about four feet tall, with small gaps serving as firing positions. Several defenders ducked back inside as Victoria''s group approached. Victoria raised her hand, signaling them to halt. "Alright! Split! Give them what for!" With a collective cheer, the group divided into their assigned flanks. Zeke found himself with Victoria in C Flank, along with two other students. They slipped through the trees as quickly and quietly as possible while A Flank began their frontal assault. The sounds of battle cries and the soft impacts of snowballs filled the air. Victoria led them on a wide arc around the fortress, careful to stay behind cover. Eventually, they crouched in the shadow of a massive oak about eighty feet from the enemy position, with a clear view of one side of the fort. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. So far, the defenders hadn''t spotted them. "Everyone ready?" Victoria whispered, eyes fixed on their target. Zeke scooped up a handful of snow, packing it into a dense ball. "Ready as I''ll ever be." The other two students nodded, similarly armed. "Good. Stay quiet until we''re in position, then hit them hard." They moved forward through the trees, careful to place each step silently in the snow. Through gaps in the foliage, Zeke could see snowballs flying back and forth at the front of the fortress as A Flank maintained their assault. He couldn''t help smiling at the concentrated look on Victoria''s face ¨C she was treating this like a real military operation. "Get ready," she murmured as they reached their attack position. "And... attack!" They charged forward, hurling their snowballs over the walls. Surprised shouts erupted from inside the fort as their missiles found targets. Within seconds, the defenders had regrouped, and a barrage of snowballs flew back at C Flank. "Take cover!" Victoria dove behind a tree, with Zeke right behind her. Their companions found shelter behind another trunk as snowballs peppered the area around them. Victoria peered around the edge of their tree, assessing the situation. After a moment, she signaled to the other two members of their flank, gesturing for them to circle back and approach from another angle. They nodded and slipped away into the trees. "What''s the plan now?" Zeke asked, gathering more snow. Victoria''s eyes gleamed with mischief. "You ready for a challenge? I''ve got an idea." "Always," Zeke nodded eagerly. "We need a distraction while they get into position," she said, packing several snowballs. "Ever infused your aura into snow before?" "No," Zeke shook his head, then paused. "But I''ve done something similar with liquids in Professor Harold''s class." He grabbed a handful of loose snow and focused, allowing his aura to flow into it. Using the techniques he''d practiced, he shaped the snow into a tiny figure ¨C a miniature soldier about six inches tall. The snow figure stood on his palm, perfectly formed and ready to move at his command. Victoria''s jaw dropped. "That''s amazing! I''ve never seen anything like it before!" She stared in wonder, then recovered her composure. "How far away can you control it? Any chance you could make one that''s six feet tall?" "Not even close," Zeke laughed. "This is my limit." "Still useful," Victoria said. "Can you make it move toward the fort? It might just distract them enough." Zeke nodded, and with careful concentration, threw the snow figure toward the enemy fortification. As it flew through the air, he maintained his focus, pouring more aura into the connection. The figure landed about twenty feet from the fort, and though Zeke couldn''t see it anymore, he visualized it performing a little dance. The reaction was immediate. "What the¡ª!" "Look at that!" "Is it moving?" "Stomp it! Stomp it!" Victoria grinned at the commotion. "Now!" They charged forward, each armed with several snowballs. The defenders were momentarily distracted by Zeke''s creation, allowing Victoria and Zeke to close half the distance before being spotted. When the first volley came their way, they were forced to take cover again, but they''d gained valuable ground. "Think that trick will work a second time?" Zeke asked, catching his breath. "Probably not," Victoria replied. "Where''s our backup?" Scanning the woods, they spotted their two companions sneaking toward the rear of the fortress. But just as they were about to launch their attack, Zeke noticed movement in the trees behind them ¨C a group of Burgson students closing in silently. "Ambush!" he whispered urgently. "They''re going to be caught from behind." Victoria muttered a curse. "We have to warn them." "No time," Zeke said, already scooping up fresh snow. He packed it tight, infused it with aura, and with a surge of energy that left his arm momentarily numb, launched it with incredible force. The charged snowball streaked through the air like a comet, flying past their companions and striking one of the ambushers square in the chest. The impact knocked the older student completely off his feet, sending him sprawling into a snowdrift. His companions froze in shock, giving C Flank''s members time to turn and launch a counter-attack. What followed was glorious chaos. The carefully planned assault dissolved into a free-for-all as defenders poured over their walls, attackers charged from all directions, and snow filled the air like a localized blizzard. Zeke stayed near Victoria, the two of them working as a seamless unit. When one threw snowballs, the other gathered ammunition. When one was targeted, the other provided covering fire. They moved like dancers through the battlefield, taking few hits while delivering many. "Cover me!" Victoria suddenly shouted, charging toward the heart of the fortress. Zeke launched a rapid series of snowballs to clear her path as she vaulted over the wall and landed inside the enemy stronghold. He scrambled up after her, arriving just in time to see her engaged in furious combat with the Burgson commander. They circled each other, shields raised, looking for an opening. Though both were skilled, neither could land a decisive blow. Zeke seized the opportunity, flanking the enemy leader and landing a perfect shot to the side of his head. The commander groaned dramatically and collapsed into the snow. Victoria raised her fist triumphantly. "And that''s the game! We have triumphed!" She grabbed the red flag flying above the fort and waved it to signal their victory. All around them, students from both houses were laughing, groaning, or helping each other up from the snow. The Burgson commander rose, brushing snow from his hair. "I told them not to abandon their posts," he grumbled good-naturedly. "It''s just a game," Victoria shrugged, extending her hand. "Good fight." "For now," he replied, accepting the handshake. "Rematch tomorrow?" "You''re on." The formal battle concluded, but the snow fight continued for another hour as students from both houses mingled, forming new teams and challenges. Zeke found himself building a snow fortress with a mix of Reinfir and Burgson students, laughing as they worked together to defend against a new coalition. By mid-morning, everyone was thoroughly exhausted, soaked, and freezing. With classes beginning soon, they reluctantly abandoned their battlefield and started back toward the castle. "Good show out there," Victoria said, falling into step beside Zeke as they climbed the path. "That snow figure trick was impressive." "Couldn''t have done it without your planning," Zeke replied. "You''re a natural commander." Victoria smiled slightly at the compliment. "Strategy has always come easily to me. It''s why I''m here, to develop those skills further." "Is that what you plan to do after graduation? Lead troops?" "That''s the goal," she nodded. "I''m hoping to secure a command in House Reinfir''s army, maybe even the Imperial Army someday. Reinfir has always kept mostly to itself in military matters, sending support when requested but maintaining our independence." "You''ll be great at it," Zeke said sincerely. "The way you organized us today ¨C everyone knew exactly what to do." "It''s all I''ve ever wanted," Victoria admitted, her voice softening. "My father was Captain General of Reinfir''s forces for decades before his death. I just want to follow in his footsteps." "Do you have siblings who might compete for the position?" Zeke asked. "I know Ingrid only got her chance because her brother was injured." Victoria''s expression grew somber. "No, actually. My mother died giving birth to me, and my father never remarried. He always said a man could only truly love one woman in his lifetime, and he never stopped loving her." A small, sad smile crossed her face. "I admired him for that loyalty." "He sounds like a great man," Zeke said. "He was. Everyone in House Reinfir looked up to him, even Lord Reinfir himself." She straightened her shoulders. "I know he''s watching over me. Everything I do is to honor his memory." As they approached the castle, Zeke found himself appreciating Victoria in a new light. Behind her stern exterior was someone driven by love and loyalty ¨C values he shared, though he''d never expressed them quite so openly. After changing into dry clothes, Zeke hurried to his morning classes. Professor Gerald''s Aura Infusion lecture seemed especially relevant after his snow figure experiment, and he took detailed notes on maintaining control over aura-infused objects at a distance. When lunchtime arrived, Zeke found himself surrounded by excited chatter about the morning''s snow battle. Word had spread quickly, and students from other houses were already organizing their own challenges. "There you are!" Elise exclaimed, sliding onto the bench beside him. "Everyone''s talking about your trick with the snow soldier. How did you do that?" "Just an application of what Professor Harold''s been teaching me," Zeke explained between bites. "Though I never thought to try it with snow before." "Can you show me sometime?" she asked eagerly. "Of course," Zeke nodded. "Maybe this weekend? If there''s still snow." "It''s a date," Elise said, then immediately blushed. "I mean, not a date-date, just¡ª" "I know what you meant," Zeke laughed, feeling his own face warming slightly. Ralph appeared, dropping onto the bench across from them with a dramatic sigh. "I finally drag myself out of bed, and all anyone can talk about is how amazing Zeke was in some snow fight I missed." "There''s always tomorrow," Zeke grinned. "Victoria and the Burgson commander already arranged a rematch." "Count me in," Ralph said, piling food onto his plate. "House Arnette has a few snow battle techniques that''ll blow your minds." The rest of lunch passed in animated discussion of strategy for the next day''s battle. As they were finishing, a messenger in Academy livery approached their table. "Zeke de''Godfrey?" the young page asked. "That''s me," Zeke confirmed. "Professor Harold requests your presence in his office after your afternoon classes. He says it''s regarding your next Trial." Zeke''s stomach tightened. With all the excitement of the morning, he''d almost forgotten about the looming challenge. "Thank you. Tell him I''ll be there." As the messenger left, Elise placed a supportive hand on his arm. "You''ve been working harder than anyone. You''ll be ready." "I hope so," Zeke said, his mind already shifting to what might await him. The afternoon seemed to crawl by. When his final class ended, Zeke made his way to Professor Harold''s office, his thoughts churning with possibilities. What would his next Trial involve? How soon would it take place? Was he truly prepared? Professor Harold''s door stood open, revealing the familiar study with its wall of books and collection of aura-infused objects. The professor himself sat at his desk, writing in a leather-bound journal. "Ah, Zeke," he looked up with a smile. "Come in. I hear you''ve had quite the eventful morning." "News travels fast," Zeke said, taking a seat. "In Leoncrest, always." Professor Harold closed his journal. "I received word from the Headmistress this morning. Your next Trial has been scheduled for one week from today." Zeke took a deep breath. "And what will it involve?" "The Aura Labyrinth," Professor Harold said gravely. "It''s one of the more challenging early Trials. You''ll navigate a maze whose walls are charged with aura. Touch them, and you fail. The only way through is to sense and counter the aura patterns." "Like what we''ve been practicing," Zeke nodded. "Similar, but more complex. The Labyrinth changes for each candidate ¨C it responds to your own aura signature, creating a unique path." Zeke considered this. "So I''ll need to strengthen my sensitivity to different aura patterns." "Precisely," Professor Harold nodded approvingly. "We''ll intensify your training this week. Two sessions daily ¨C morning and evening." "I''m ready," Zeke said firmly. "Whatever it takes." The professor smiled slightly. "I expected nothing less. Now, about this snow creation technique I''ve heard about ¨C it seems you''ve found a practical application for our lessons." "It was instinct, really," Zeke admitted. "When Victoria mentioned using aura with snow, I just tried what we''ve been practicing with liquids. Snow holds shape better, though." "Fascinating," Professor Harold leaned forward. "And how far could you control it?" "About twenty feet, but barely. Any further and I''d lose the connection entirely." "That''s still impressive for your level," the professor said. "With more practice, you could extend that range significantly. Perhaps we should incorporate snow into our training this week." "I''d like that," Zeke nodded eagerly. They spent the next hour discussing strategies for the upcoming Trial, with Professor Harold explaining the history and purpose of the Aura Labyrinth. By the time Zeke left, night had fallen, and the castle corridors were quiet. As he made his way back to his dormitory, Zeke felt a curious mix of anxiety and excitement. The Trial would be difficult ¨C perhaps the most challenging yet ¨C but he was better prepared than he''d been for any previous test. Between Professor Harold''s training, Victoria''s tactical lessons, and his own growing confidence, he had tools his brother might never have had at this stage. The snow-covered courtyard gleamed under the rising moon as he passed a window. Tomorrow would bring another battle in the fresh powder, but beyond that lay a far more important challenge. Somehow, he''d find time for both ¨C proving himself in friendly competition while preparing for the Trial that could decide his future. "One day at a time," he whispered to himself, a smile forming. "One snowball at a time." [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [Snow Warriors: Participate in tomorrow''s rematch] [Trial Preparation: Train for the Aura Labyrinth] 35. Passage [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 1] [Date: January 3, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] Morning came too early, as always. Zeke woke before the bell, already mapping out his day in his head. Snow still blanketed the Academy grounds outside his window, though pathways had been cleared by the groundskeepers. "Another perfect day for training," he muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Ralph groaned from beneath his blankets. "Perfect for hibernating, you mean." "Can''t afford to hibernate," Zeke replied cheerfully, splashing cold water on his face from the basin. "Trial''s coming up." "Two weeks away," Ralph protested. "Take a day off before you break something." Zeke just laughed, pulling on his training clothes. "Breaking is how you know you''re pushing hard enough." The morning passed in a blur of classes and combat training. Victoria worked them especially hard in the yard, focusing on footwork in the icy conditions. By midday, Zeke''s muscles ached pleasantly, and his mind felt sharp from the exertion. After lunch, he headed to the dueling hall for his afternoon sparring session. The session was rigorous but productive. Zeke had improved significantly since his arrival at Leoncrest, and he could now hold his own against second-year students. As they finished, he stretched his tired arms and started toward the main building. A messenger boy in a white sash appeared, dashing through the doors and making straight for him. "Zeke de''Godfrey?" the boy asked, slightly out of breath. "That''s me," Zeke replied, frowning. "What is it?" "Professor Harold de''Hobbson asked me to inform you of his regret that he will be unable to give you any training this evening," the messenger recited formally. "He''s been called away for a short time to the Hobbson Estate, but he wishes you the best, and will be back with plenty of time before your next Trial in a few weeks." Zeke nodded, surprised by the unexpected free time. "Thanks for letting me know." The messenger bowed and darted away. Zeke stood there for a moment, considering his options. Free time was a rare luxury, and he didn''t want to waste it. "You alright?" Victoria appeared beside him, her practice sword slung over her shoulder. "You look lost." Zeke laughed. "Not lost. Just suddenly have a few hours to myself, which doesn''t happen often! I''ll figure out something good to do with it." Victoria nodded, starting up the castle steps. "I''d offer another training session, but I have a meeting with my course advisor. I''ll catch you tomorrow!" As she disappeared inside, an idea sparked in Zeke''s mind. He knew exactly how to use this unexpected free time. With a grin, he bounded up the steps and made his way to the female dormitory wing. When he reached Elise''s door, he knocked confidently. After a brief pause, it swung open. "Zeke?" Elise looked surprised, a textbook in her hand. "Aren''t you supposed to be in private tutoring?" "Got canceled," he explained, bouncing slightly on his toes with excitement. "I''ve got a free afternoon, and I thought you might want to join me for a little adventure." "Adventure?" Her eyebrows raised. "What kind of adventure?" "The kind we might get in trouble for," Zeke said with a mischievous grin. "But worth it, I promise." Elise''s face lit up, and she nodded eagerly. "Now you''re talking. Let me grab my shoes." She quickly marked her place in her textbook, then stepped into the hall, locking her door behind her. As they descended the spiral staircase, she glanced over at him. "So what''s the plan? You finally find a hobby?" "Not exactly," he shook his head. "Still working on that, but I''ve got something even better. Not a hobby per se, but... you''ll see. You might kill me afterward, but you''ll see." Elise''s expression turned suspicious as they entered the library. When Zeke made a beeline for the stone lion statue, she groaned. "Oh no. Not this again." The majestic stone beast stood in its corner, ruby eyes gleaming in the afternoon light. It looked exactly as it had during their previous attempts ¨C imposing, silent, and completely ordinary. "Zeke, I told you, I''m pretty sure this is just a legend," Elise sighed. "Will you help me look it over anyway?" he asked, undeterred. "Artax wouldn''t tell me what the secret was, but he was pretty certain it exists." "Is he the type of brother who plays pranks on you?" she asked, crossing her arms. "Not like this," Zeke replied, circling the statue. "He''d do stuff like stealing clothes while I was swimming, but he never lied about things. He hated those kinds of jokes." He paused, looking at her curiously. "What makes you so sure it''s just a legend? You''re usually the one believing in things, not me." Elise leaned against a bookshelf. "I''m not usually cynical, but I''ve studied a lot of the Academy legends. The sewer worms? I''d give those 50-50 odds of being real. Ghosts in the old forest? Maybe 70-30 in favor ¨C there are reports going back generations. But this?" She gestured at the lion. "It''s a relatively new addition to the lore, despite being a very old part of the Academy. The timing doesn''t make sense." "Well, I''m determined to try," Zeke declared, rolling up his sleeves. For the next hour, they examined every inch of the stone lion. Zeke poked his fingers into every crack and crevice, tapped on hollow-sounding sections, and even tried pulling on the ears. Nothing happened. They had to scatter several times when Adrian wandered nearby, pretending to browse books until the old librarian moved on. Other students passing by would snicker or nod knowingly at their efforts, but no one stopped to help. Zeke was getting discouraged, but refused to give up. "I think we''ve tried everything," Elise finally said, sitting on a nearby stool. "I''m sorry, Zeke. I guess it really wasn''t meant to be. I know free time is precious for you ¨C it must sting to waste it like this." "Maybe," Zeke frowned, then slowly placed his hand on the lion''s nose. "What you just said... about my training..." If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "What about it?" Elise raised an eyebrow. "I don''t know. Just a hunch," he shrugged. "Let me try one more thing, and if it doesn''t work, we''ll go do something else. Promise." She nodded, and Zeke closed his eyes, focusing on what Professor Harold had been teaching him. He began to channel his aura into the stone lion. The surface glowed briefly as his energy flowed through it, mapping out the statue''s internal structure. Suddenly, he felt something ¨C a hollow space at the creature''s core, and within it, a mechanism no human hand could reach. His heart raced as he directed his aura to the hidden lever. With a mental push, he activated it. A sharp click echoed, followed by a low rumbling sound. "Zeke?" Elise whispered, looking around frantically. "What did you just do?" "I found it," he replied, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. "Quick, check if anyone''s watching." Elise scanned the area. "All clear." With another rumble, hidden gears turned within the statue, and the entire lion slid backward, revealing a stone staircase that descended into darkness. Without hesitation, they darted inside. The air was stale and dusty, and seconds later, the lion rumbled back into place above them, sealing the entrance. They stood in pitch blackness until Elise conjured a small orb of light. The magical glow revealed stairs that stretched down about twenty feet before turning sharply. They descended quickly, rounded the corner, and continued down another flight before reaching a long corridor. "This is incredible," Elise whispered, her voice echoing slightly. "I can''t believe it was real all along." "Never doubt Artax," Zeke grinned, leading the way down the passageway. As they walked, muffled voices drifted through the wall to their right. Zeke pressed his ear against the stone, and Elise did the same. "That''s Professor Jared Stragga!" she exclaimed quietly. "This must run alongside the Theater classroom. It would be in about the right location ¨C it''s down in the basement, dark and dingy. Professor Jared says the atmosphere helps with performances." "So we''re in a service passage," Zeke guessed, continuing forward. They passed several more rooms, which Elise identified based on their location and the voices they heard. At the end of the corridor stood a simple wooden door. Zeke pushed it open slowly, revealing a small room about twenty feet square. Inside were several plush chairs and a comfortable-looking couch arranged around a low table. Lanterns hung from the ceiling, automatically lighting as they entered. Across the far wall, a welcome message was carved into the stone in ancient lettering: "Welcum Tu The Rum!" "To the rum?" Zeke frowned, trying to decipher the old text. "It''s written in an older form of our language," Elise explained, excitement in her voice. "It says ''Welcome to the Room.'' Back then, they spelled ''room'' with a ''u'' instead of ''oo,'' and it didn''t have the silent ''e'' at the end." "Incredible," Zeke murmured, taking in the hidden chamber. Near the door sat a small table with a leather-bound book. The cover was simple, with two words etched into it: "Gest Buk." "Guest book," Zeke translated, carefully opening it. The first page contained entries dating back over eight hundred years. The very first name was "Dorian Le''Dorik," followed by a group that had all signed on the same day, 5th of August, year 952 of the Third Age. Zeke whistled softly as he turned through the yellowed pages, watching centuries pass. Sometimes there would be a flurry of entries in consecutive months or years, followed by decades of emptiness. About halfway through the book, the entries ended. Zeke''s breath caught as he found the third-from-last signature: "Artax de''Godfrey. November 7, y. 469 of the 4th Age." "He really was here," Zeke said softly, running his finger over his brother''s handwriting. "We should add our names," Elise suggested, pulling a small pencil from her pocket. She carefully wrote their names and the date below the last entry. With that done, they turned to explore the room properly. "It''s basically a clubhouse," Elise observed, running her hand along the back of one of the chairs. "But a secret one," Zeke added, flopping onto the couch. Despite its apparent age, the furniture was surprisingly comfortable. "This doesn''t feel centuries old." "Someone must maintain it," Elise said, bouncing slightly in one of the chairs. "I wonder how they got all this furniture down here without anyone noticing." "Maybe there''s another entrance," Zeke suggested, looking around the room more carefully. Now that they''d gotten over the initial shock of discovery, they began to notice details they''d missed. The walls were covered with carvings, notes, and drawings left by previous visitors. Hearts with initials inside them, faded messages written in chalk, even small sketches of the Academy as it had looked in different eras. "J + D," Elise read from one carving. "I wonder who they were." "And if they ended up together," Zeke added. "These walls have seen centuries of secrets." They found notes about which professors were cute, which students were cheaters, and hints about other Academy secrets that had long since been forgotten or changed. It was a living record of student life through the ages. "Look at this," Zeke called, pointing to a small alcove they hadn''t noticed before. Inside was a collection of items left by previous visitors ¨C small trinkets, old coins, even a tarnished knight''s pin from at least a century ago. "It''s tradition to leave something behind," Elise realized, examining the collection. Zeke dug in his pocket and found a small silver button that had fallen off his formal uniform months ago. He placed it carefully among the other treasures. "Your turn," he said to Elise. She thought for a moment, then removed a thin ribbon she''d been using as a bookmark. She tied it in a small bow and added it to the collection. "I owe you an apology," she said after a while. "I shouldn''t have doubted you about this place." "Don''t worry about it," Zeke shrugged. "I probably would have been skeptical too. I''m just glad it turned out to be real." "Me too," Elise smiled, settling back in her chair. "And now we have somewhere to escape the crowd when we need to." "Exactly," Zeke nodded. "But we''ll have to keep it secret." They spent the next hour talking and exploring the room''s details. Elise discovered a small shelf of books ¨C ancient volumes that had probably been "borrowed" from the library over the centuries and never returned. Zeke found a chess set with pieces carved from stone, set up mid-game as if the players had simply stepped away for a moment... perhaps decades ago. Eventually, realizing curfew must be approaching, they reluctantly prepared to leave. Before they did, Zeke wanted one more look at the guest book. He flipped back through the pages before Artax''s entry, scanning the names from years past. "Here it is," he said, pointing to an entry. "Adrian de''Levayne. September 10, year 442." "So the librarian knows about it," Elise frowned. "And look at this one," Zeke added, indicating the entry immediately below. "Florence de''Dracthen!" "The Headmistress?" Elise''s eyes widened. "That''s... concerning." "Very," Zeke agreed. "We definitely need to be careful about who we tell." They made their way back down the corridor toward the exit. When they reached the lion, Zeke discovered a small periscope built into the statue. One of the ruby eyes concealed a looking-glass that allowed them to check if anyone was nearby before opening the passage. There was also a mechanical lever, meaning he wouldn''t need to use his aura to escape. A few students were visible through the periscope, so they waited patiently until the area cleared. Finally, Zeke pulled the lever, and the statue slid forward enough for them to slip out before rumbling closed behind them. Zeke''s heart pounded in his chest as they casually strolled away from the lion, trying to look as though they''d simply been browsing books. "Enjoy it?" Adrian''s quiet voice made them both freeze mid-step. They turned slowly to find the old librarian kneeling nearby, reshelving books. He barely glanced in their direction, but a small smile played on his lips. "It''s..." Zeke began, but Adrian shook his head. "It''s secret, and for good reason," the librarian said softly. "Say nothing of your visit to anyone who hasn''t been there themselves. And whatever you do, do not let the Headmistress know you''re aware of the Room." "Understood," Zeke nodded. Adrian returned to his work, and they quickly made their exit. Once safely in the main hallway, Elise turned to Zeke, her eyes still wide with excitement. "That was incredible," she whispered. "Thank you for not giving up." "Best afternoon I''ve had in ages," Zeke replied with a grin. He glanced at the darkening sky outside the windows. "I don''t have training tomorrow either. Want to meet up again? Maybe not for the same thing, but..." "I''d love that," Elise said, her smile bright in the torchlit hall. That night, Zeke lay in bed, unable to sleep despite his physical exhaustion. His mind kept returning to the hidden room and all it represented ¨C generations of students sharing the same secret, leaving their mark on the Academy in ways the professors never knew. "You''re still awake?" Ralph mumbled from the other bed. "What''s got you so wired?" "Just thinking about the Trial," Zeke lied, staring at the ceiling. "You''ll crush it," Ralph yawned. "You always do." "Hope so," Zeke replied, though his thoughts were far from his upcoming challenge. He''d found something special today ¨C not just a hidden room, but a connection to his brother and to the Academy''s long history. It wasn''t exactly the hobby he''d been looking for, but it was something uniquely his own. Well, his and Elise''s now. As sleep finally began to claim him, Zeke wondered what other secrets Leoncrest might be hiding. The stone lion had guarded its mystery for centuries, revealing itself only to those clever or persistent enough to find it. What else might be waiting for those willing to look beyond the obvious? Tomorrow would bring more training, more studies, more preparation for his Trial. But now he had something else to look forward to ¨C afternoons exploring with Elise, mapping out the hidden Academy that existed beneath the one everyone else knew. With that comforting thought, he drifted off to sleep, dreaming of secret passages and ancient rooms waiting to be discovered. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance [Active Quests:] [Best Kept Secret: Tell no one about the hidden room (ongoing)] 36. To The Woods [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 2] [Date: January 6, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] Zeke bounded up the stairs of Tower 2, taking them two at a time. His afternoon was wide open again with Professor Harold still away, and the prospect of free time made him grin. Winter sunlight streamed through the narrow windows, casting long rectangles on the stone steps. Reaching Elise''s door, he rapped his knuckles against the wood, eager to see what adventure they might find today. The door swung open, but instead of Elise''s usual smile, she greeted him with a frown. "What''s up?" he asked. "Something wrong?" "Not wrong exactly," she sighed. "I was planning to convince you to try a new recipe I found, but my Principles of Magic professor just hit us with a surprise test tomorrow. I''ve got one night to read through almost four hundred pages." Zeke whistled. "Ouch. Want help studying?" "I don''t think it would do much good," she replied, shaking her head. "When I read, I sort of zone out and forget the outside world exists. I''m really sorry." "No worries!" Zeke said with an easy shrug. "I''ll find something else to do. Good luck with the studying!" As Elise closed her door, Zeke turned and headed back downstairs, mind already racing with possibilities. It was strange ¨C most students had no trouble filling free hours, but he still hadn''t found that perfect hobby. Growing up at the Godfrey estate, his days had been structured around avoiding his father''s disappointment rather than pursuing interests. He was considering heading back to his room to see what Ralph was up to when a voice called from behind. "Hey! De''Godfrey?" Turning, he spotted Ingrid striding toward him, her short black hair slightly tousled as though she''d been outside. Unlike her usual composed self, she had a restless energy about her. "Hey Ingrid! What''s up?" She sighed, shoulders dropping slightly. "I don''t know. I''m bored." "Same here," Zeke nodded. "My afternoon professor is still away, and I''m terrible at doing nothing." "Me too," Ingrid said, frowning. "I usually study, but all my classes have lighter loads this week. Must be something in the air ¨C half the staff have been summoned to their home estates for one reason or another." She paused, something mischievous flashing in her eyes. "If you want to do something, I''d be game." "Like what?" Zeke asked, immediately interested. "I''m up for anything." A small smile flickered across Ingrid''s face. "Want to go see if we can find the tomb of Dorian Le''Dorik?" The name made Zeke start slightly. "Who''s that?" "Who''s that?" Ingrid''s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Only the first student to ever graduate from the Academy! They say he loved this place so much that when he died, he was buried somewhere on the grounds. His tomb supposedly contains loads of treasure, and no one''s ever found it." "The odds of us finding it seem pretty slim then," Zeke pointed out, though excitement was already building in his chest. "Oh, I know," Ingrid shrugged, "but the alternative is going back to my room and staring at the wall until it''s dark enough to sleep. Are you coming with me or not?" Zeke grinned. "Lead the way!" Twenty minutes later, they were trudging through the Academy grounds, heavy cloaks wrapped around them against the winter chill. Most of the snow had melted during a brief warm spell, though patches still clung to the shadows of trees and walls. "So how''d you get interested in this tomb?" Zeke asked as they crossed the stone bridge spanning the river. Below them, icy water thundered over rocks, sending up a fine, frigid mist. "I read about it in a book about Academy legends," Ingrid replied. "Most students focus on ghost stories or the sewer worms, but the tomb caught my attention. A first-year spending time in the library? I know, shocking." "Hey, I''ve been to the library," Zeke protested. "At least three or four times." Ingrid laughed. "Three or four times in half a year? I''m there three or four times a week!" They passed through the Training Woods where a handful of students were engaged in sparring matches despite the cold. Soon they reached the edge of the Old Woods, where ancient trees grew so closely together their trunks seemed to merge into a single knotted mass. "From what I''ve read," Ingrid said, pausing at the low stone wall marking the boundary, "the tomb should be somewhere in there, fairly close to the school. Ready for some real exploring?" "Born ready," Zeke replied, vaulting over the wall. The difference between the Training Woods and the Old Woods was immediately apparent. Here, the ground was uneven and treacherous, with hidden dips and rises concealed by years of fallen branches. Even without leaves to block their sight, progress was slow. Dried vines crisscrossed between trunks, and thorny brush grew so thickly in places they had to force their way through. "This place is wild," Zeke said, ducking under a low-hanging branch. "No wonder they don''t use it for training." "They used to," Ingrid replied, carefully picking her way around a tangle of roots. "Centuries ago, before they cleared the Training Woods. Hard to believe now, but apparently first-years would get lost in here all the time." Zeke laughed. "I can see why. I''d be lost already if I wasn''t following you." As they pushed deeper into the forest, Zeke began to wonder if Ingrid had more information than she was sharing. She moved with purpose, occasionally consulting what looked like mental landmarks. Finally, they ducked under a massive fallen tree and stepped into a small clearing. "Here!" Ingrid announced triumphantly. Zeke looked around, uncertain what he was supposed to see. The clearing was mostly bare, with patchy grass still holding wisps of snow. As his eyes adjusted, however, he noticed several weathered cobblestones poking up through the ground. "I was on an expedition with Victoria a couple weeks ago," Ingrid explained, kneeling to examine one of the stones. "We were doing a navigation exercise ¨C blindfolded, dropped in the middle of nowhere, find your way back to the Academy." "And you could?" Zeke asked, impressed. "Easily," she shrugged. "Finding direction in a forest isn''t hard if you know what to look for, and the Old Forest has distinctive features. Anyway, I stumbled across this place and have been wanting to come back ever since." "You think this is the tomb?" Zeke asked, tapping one of the cobblestones with his boot. "More likely an old training dungeon," Ingrid replied. "There are about two dozen active training dungeons scattered throughout the grounds, but historical records mention over a hundred throughout the years. Most are so far gone you''d be lucky to find a couple stones, but this one seems more intact." "So how do we find the entrance, if there is one?" "We look," Ingrid said simply. "And if we don''t find anything today, I''ll come back in spring with a shovel." They began methodically searching the clearing, checking under tree roots and brushing away years of accumulated debris. Finding nothing, they widened their search to the surrounding area, but still came up empty-handed. After about twenty minutes, Ingrid returned to the center of the clearing, muttering to herself. "Two hundred feet... left turn... right turn... traps..." "What are you doing?" Zeke asked, joining her. "Just thinking," she replied. "I originally thought these cobblestones might be part of an entrance, but now I''m wondering if this is actually the roof of one of the main chambers. That would explain the clearing ¨C no soil above it for trees to root in. If that''s the case, the entrance should be nearby." She scanned the area, then pointed. "Probably that way, judging from the lay of the land." You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. They pushed through more underbrush until suddenly the ground dropped away. They stood at the edge of a sharp ravine about ten feet deep, with walls of broken rock and exposed tree roots. "Careful," Ingrid warned, beginning a controlled slide down the slope. She used roots as handholds, testing each one before putting her weight on it. Zeke followed her example, adrenaline pumping through his veins. This was the kind of adventure he''d read about in books but never experienced growing up in the sheltered Godfrey estate. At the bottom of the ravine, Ingrid pointed ahead. "There!" Zeke rushed forward, excitement building. A stone arch was cut into the ravine wall, mostly hidden by dried vines. Beyond it, a dark tunnel plunged into the earth. Ingrid formed a ball of light in her palm and strode forward. "Come on." "Do you think this is the entrance?" Zeke asked, following close behind. "Not the original one," she replied, her voice echoing slightly in the narrow passage. "This was probably a side tunnel. The main entrance would have been elsewhere, but the ravine formed and cut through the old passage. So yes, it''s an entrance now, but not the one people would have used in the old¡ª" She stopped abruptly as they reached a solid wall of stone. "Days." Zeke frowned, running his hand across the obstacle. It wasn''t a pile of rubble from a recent collapse ¨C this was ancient, the stones long since fused together by time and pressure. It was simply a dead end. "Well, that''s frustrating," Ingrid sighed, biting her lip. "Nothing to be done about it, though." To Zeke''s surprise, she turned and walked back out of the tunnel without another word, heading toward the Academy rather than returning to the clearing. "Ingrid?" he called after her. "Aren''t you going to keep searching for a way in?" "No," she replied, glancing back with a puzzled expression. "I told you, I''ll come back with a shovel. It''s getting too late now ¨C I''ll wait for the break between winter and spring terms, then spend a few days working on it properly. Nothing more we can do today." "Couldn''t there be another entrance?" Zeke pressed, catching up to her. "If one ravine cut through a tunnel, maybe another did too." "Possible," she conceded. "Unlikely, though." She paused. "Do you want to keep looking?" "Not particularly," Zeke admitted, feeling the cold more acutely now that they''d stopped moving. "I wasn''t exactly raised to be an explorer. I just figured you were set on getting in there." Ingrid shook her head, continuing through the trees. "If there''s one thing I learned growing up in a mercenary family, it''s that if you run into a problem once, you''ll likely run into the same problem again using the same tactics. If we found another entrance, it would probably just be collapsed too. Better to try a different approach entirely." "Makes sense," Zeke nodded, hurrying to keep pace. "So what was it like, growing up in a family of mercs?" "Mercenaries," she corrected sharply. "Mercs is a derogatory term. And it was... hard, in many ways." She paused as they climbed over a fallen log, then ducked under a cluster of hanging vines. "We moved constantly. Village folk thought we were thugs, nobles saw us as tools. Few people respected what we did." "Sorry to hear that," Zeke said sincerely. "What made our family different was that we actually investigated every conflict," she continued, picking her way across a particularly rocky section. "If hired to storm a castle, we''d talk to both sides first ¨C discreetly, of course ¨C to understand why. More than once, we ended up working against the people who''d hired us initially." Zeke grinned. "Sounds like a good way to do business to me!" "When your livelihood depends on nobles paying you to fight, it''s not ideal," Ingrid replied dryly. "That''s why we''re trying to establish ourselves as a minor noble house. We''d still do what we''ve always done, but with the stability and respect that comes with a title." "Your family sounds... interesting," Zeke said, genuinely impressed. "I''d like to meet them someday." "Being away from them has been the hardest part of all this," Ingrid admitted, her usual tough demeanor softening slightly. "I''ve been here three years, and it already feels like forever. Victoria helps ¨C she''s a great friend ¨C but she can''t replace family." "No," Zeke agreed, thinking of Artax. "No one can." They walked in companionable silence after that, both lost in their own thoughts. The light was starting to fade, long shadows stretching across the forest floor. Zeke''s mind wandered to his upcoming Trial, wondering if Professor Harold would return in time for a few more practice sessions. So deep in thought was he that he almost didn''t hear Ingrid''s sudden shout. "Zeke! Get down!" Something in her voice triggered an instant response. As she lunged toward him, he was already dropping to the ground. Her body collided with his, driving him flat as something whistled through the air where his head had been moments before. A solid thunk followed, and Zeke rolled to see a knife buried nearly to its hilt in a tree trunk. Heart pounding, he scrambled to his feet as Ingrid did the same, her eyes scanning the trees around them. Someone had just tried to kill him. "This way," Ingrid hissed, grabbing his arm and yanking him behind a large oak. "Stay low!" Zeke pressed his back against the rough bark, every sense suddenly heightened. The forest seemed too quiet ¨C no birds, no rustling leaves, just the sound of his own breathing. "Did you see where it came from?" he whispered. "That direction," Ingrid pointed west, deeper into the forest. "About fifty yards, I think." Zeke peered cautiously around the tree, seeing nothing but more trees and undergrowth. "Who would¡ª" "Questions later," Ingrid cut him off. "First priority is getting back to the Academy grounds. We''re sitting targets out here." She was right. Neither of them was armed beyond a small utility knife Ingrid carried, and whoever had thrown that blade clearly knew what they were doing. "Options?" Zeke asked, scanning for the quickest route back. "We could make a run for it," Ingrid said, "but that exposes us. Or we can stay under cover, move slow and careful." "Slow gives them time to circle around," Zeke pointed out. "I say we run." Ingrid nodded grimly. "On three. One... two..." A second knife thudded into the tree just inches from Zeke''s face. "Three!" he shouted, grabbing Ingrid''s hand and bolting. They crashed through the underbrush, all attempts at stealth abandoned. Behind them, branches snapped as their pursuer gave chase. Zeke ducked instinctively as something whizzed past his ear ¨C a third knife, this one missing by mere inches. "They''re gaining!" Ingrid gasped. The edge of the Old Woods was still at least two hundred yards away, and every step felt like wading through molasses. Worse, they''d been driven off course, away from the most direct path back. "We need to split up," Zeke decided. "I''ll draw them off ¨C you get back and bring help." "Absolutely not," Ingrid snapped. "If we separate, they''ll just pick us off one by one." A flash of movement to their right caught Zeke''s eye. Their attacker was paralleling their course, moving with surprising speed through the dense forest. For a brief moment, he caught a glimpse of a dark cloak and hood ¨C then they disappeared again behind a thicket. "There!" he pointed. "Wearing black!" Ingrid nodded, immediately changing direction to put more obstacles between them and their pursuer. They scrambled over a fallen tree, splashed through an icy stream, and darted behind a dense stand of pines. "Keep moving," Ingrid urged when Zeke paused to catch his breath. "The Training Woods are just ahead ¨C there''ll be students there!" Hope surged through Zeke''s chest. If they could just reach the more populated area, they''d be safe. He pushed forward with renewed energy, ignoring the burning in his lungs and the scratches on his face from low-hanging branches. Then disaster struck. Ingrid''s foot caught on a hidden root, sending her sprawling forward with a cry of pain. She rolled, clutching her ankle, face contorted in agony. "Go!" she hissed. "Get help!" Zeke didn''t hesitate. Instead of running toward safety, he dropped to her side. "Put your arm around me." "What are you doing?" she demanded. "You need to¡ª" "I''m not leaving you," he said firmly, helping her to her feet. She winced as she put weight on her injured ankle. "Lean on me." With one arm supporting Ingrid, they moved forward at a painfully slow pace. Every shadow seemed to conceal their attacker, every rustle of leaves a warning of impending danger. "They''re toying with us," Ingrid muttered. "If they wanted us dead, we would be already." "That''s comforting," Zeke replied grimly. Suddenly, the trees thinned ahead of them, revealing the stone wall that marked the boundary of the Training Woods. Relief flooded through Zeke ¨C they were almost safe. Then a figure stepped out from behind a tree directly in their path. Cloaked in black, face obscured by a deep hood, they stood completely still, blocking the way forward. Zeke froze, every muscle tensed. "Run," he whispered to Ingrid, stepping in front of her protectively. "I''m not leaving you either," she replied, her voice steady despite her injury. The figure raised an arm, and moonlight glinted off a fourth knife. Zeke braced himself, ready to dodge, to charge, to do anything that might give Ingrid a chance to escape. Then the impossible happened. "Enough," called a familiar voice from behind them. "I believe they''ve learned their lesson." Zeke spun around, disbelieving, as Adrian the librarian stepped out from between the trees, looking perfectly at ease. "What?" Zeke managed, utterly confused. The hooded figure lowered the knife and pulled back their hood, revealing¡ª "Victoria?" Ingrid exclaimed, shock and anger warring on her face. "What in the nine hells are you doing?" Victoria shrugged, twirling the knife casually between her fingers. "Teaching a lesson. Students venturing into the Old Woods alone need to understand the dangers." She glanced at Ingrid''s ankle. "Are you actually hurt?" "No," Ingrid said flatly, putting her full weight on the supposedly injured limb. "I''m not." Zeke looked between them, understanding slowly dawning. "This was a setup? You two planned this?" "Not exactly," Adrian said, stepping forward. "After your little adventure finding the Room behind the lion, I became concerned about your growing appetite for exploration without proper preparation." "So when Ingrid mentioned you were bored and suggested an expedition," Victoria continued, "I asked her to lead you somewhere challenging but ultimately safe, where we could stage a... let''s call it a practical demonstration of why the Academy has rules about venturing into certain areas." "You could have killed me!" Zeke protested, anger rising. "Those knives barely missed!" "I never miss unless I mean to," Victoria said simply. "Twenty years of training under the best weapons masters in House Reinfir ensures that." "And Ingrid?" Zeke turned to her, feeling betrayed. "You were in on this the whole time?" "Not until we entered the Old Woods," she admitted, looking somewhat apologetic. "Victoria contacted me while you were examining the clearing. The plan was just to scare you a little, make you appreciate the dangers." Zeke shook his head, struggling to process everything. "And the tomb? The training dungeon? Was any of that real?" "Oh, that was all true," Adrian assured him. "Though finding them would require more than an afternoon''s exploration." "So all of this was to teach me... what? Not to explore? Not to have adventures?" Zeke demanded. "To be prepared," Adrian corrected gently. "To understand that real adventures require real skills and real preparation. What if Victoria had been a genuine threat? What would you have done, unarmed and untrained in wilderness survival?" The question hung in the air between them. Zeke wanted to argue, but he knew Adrian was right. He''d rushed into potential danger with no plan, no equipment, and no way to defend himself or Ingrid if things had gone wrong. "Fine," he conceded. "Point taken. Next time I''ll be better prepared." "Next time?" Victoria raised an eyebrow. "You''re a stubborn one, aren''t you?" "You have no idea," Zeke replied with a hint of a smile. "So, since we''re all friends again... any chance you might share the actual location of the tomb?" Adrian laughed, shaking his head. "Some secrets should remain earned, not given. But I will say this ¨C if you complete your Trial successfully, I might be persuaded to offer some more accurate guidance for your explorations." As they walked back toward the main Academy buildings, Zeke''s mind was already racing with plans. Adrian was right ¨C he needed to be better prepared. That meant training, equipment, and research. But far from discouraging him, today''s "lesson" had only strengthened his resolve. There were secrets hidden throughout Leoncrest, and he intended to find them all ¨C only next time, he''d be ready for whatever dangers awaited. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior Endurance [Active Quests:] [Be Prepared: Gather proper equipment for future explorations] [Trust Issues: Decide whether to forgive Ingrid and Victoria] 37. More Than You Know [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Old Forest] [Date: January 6, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] The knife quivered in the tree trunk where it had struck, just inches from where Zeke''s head had been moments before. Time seemed to freeze as he stared at the weapon, then his instincts kicked in. He scanned the trees, spotting a figure in brown clothing standing about fifty yards away. The moment the attacker realized he''d been spotted, he turned and bolted deeper into the forest. "Get that knife!" Ingrid shouted, already sprinting after the figure. "Then follow me!" Zeke yanked the blade from the tree with a sharp tug and took off after her. The forest floor was treacherous ¨C fallen branches, hidden roots, and unexpected dips made running at full speed nearly impossible. Ingrid moved like she''d been born in these woods, leaping over obstacles and ducking under branches without breaking stride. "Come on!" she called back, barely visible through the trees ahead. Zeke pushed himself harder, ignoring the scratches from thorny bushes and the sting of low-hanging branches whipping his face. He''d never been much for wilderness exploration growing up ¨C the Godfrey estate had perfectly manicured gardens, not wild forests ¨C but the thrill of the chase awakened something primal in him. When he lost sight of Ingrid completely, he paused, listening for any sound of pursuit. The forest had gone eerily silent. No birds, no rustling leaves ¨C just his own heavy breathing. He slowed to a careful walk, knife held ready. "Ingrid?" he called softly. Movement to his left made him spin around, but it was just Ingrid returning. Her face was flushed from exertion, eyes sharp with frustration. "Lose him?" Zeke asked, already knowing the answer. "What gave it away?" she muttered, scanning the trees around them. "Yes, I lost him. His trail just vanished into thin air. Must have climbed a tree and jumped or something. Doesn''t take much time, but it''ll throw off pursuit every time." She gestured for him to follow. "Come here. Let me show you something." Ingrid led him through the undergrowth, pointing out barely visible marks in the forest floor ¨C broken twigs, disturbed moss, the faintest of footprints that Zeke would never have noticed on his own. Following this trail, they soon reached a small rise overlooking a relatively clear section of the forest. "That''s the tree where the knife was aimed at you," she said, pointing to a distant oak. Zeke whistled, impressed despite the circumstances. "How far away is that?" "I''d estimate about 200 feet," Ingrid replied, eyes narrowed as she calculated. "And I''m pretty good with distances." "That''s one hell of a throw," Zeke muttered. "Or a good weapon," Ingrid added. Zeke pulled out the knife, examining it properly for the first time. It was beautifully balanced, with a blade that gleamed even in the dim forest light. The craftsmanship was unmistakable. "This is Arnette forge work, isn''t it?" he asked, handing it to Ingrid. She turned the weapon over in her hands several times, examining every inch of the blade and handle. "Definitely Arnette. See this mark here?" She pointed to a tiny stamp near the hilt. "North Forge ¨C that''s their mountain workshop. High-end stuff, not something you''d find in the hands of a common bandit." She looked up at him, expression serious. "Why would someone throw a dagger at you, Zeke?" Zeke shrugged, trying to appear more casual than he felt. Truth was, there were plenty of people who might want him dead ¨C anyone connected to those opposing House Godfrey, anyone who stood to gain from his failure at the Academy. But a direct assassination attempt in broad daylight? That was bolder than he''d expected. "Could be random," he suggested, not really believing it himself. "Wrong place, wrong time?" Ingrid snorted. "In my experience, there''s no such thing as random when it comes to knife-throwing." She knelt down, examining the ground more carefully. "Mind if I keep this?" she asked, holding up the knife. "I can run some tests back at the Academy, maybe learn more about who owned it." "Go for it," Zeke nodded. "What can you tell me about our mystery attacker?" Ingrid''s eyes narrowed as she recalled the figure. "Definitely male, based on stride length and depth of footprints. Heavy ¨C I''d estimate around 200 pounds. Some of that could be armor or gear, but he moved too fast to be wearing much. The spacing of his prints suggests he''s tall, probably six and a half feet." She turned, pointing back the way they''d come. "He approached from the same direction we did, but I don''t think he was following us the whole time. More likely he spotted us elsewhere, then cut around to this position knowing we''d pass by." "Which means...?" Zeke prompted. "He knows these woods well," Ingrid concluded. "Well enough to predict our path and set up an ambush point with good visibility. And if he happened to spot you out here, it suggests your paths cross regularly. Most attempted murders aren''t random encounters ¨C they happen because people move in the same circles." Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. "That''s comforting," Zeke said dryly. "What made you spot him anyway? I didn''t hear or see anything until you tackled me." "Training," Ingrid said simply. "My family taught me to develop a sort of sixth sense for danger. When something feels wrong, I don''t question it ¨C I act." Zeke nodded, grateful for her quick reflexes. "We should head back," he suggested, glancing at the darkening sky. "Before our friend decides to try again." The walk back to the Academy was tense, both of them constantly scanning their surroundings. When they finally passed through the Training Woods and reached the main grounds, Zeke felt like he could breathe again. "I''ll see what I can learn about this," Ingrid said, holding up the knife. "And I''ll let you know as soon as I find anything." With that, she headed toward the student workshops, leaving Zeke alone with his thoughts. He should have gone straight to his room, but his feet carried him toward the library instead. If anyone might have answers, it would be Adrian. The library was quiet, most students already at dinner or back in their dormitories. Adrian sat at his desk near the entrance, surrounded by stacks of ancient-looking texts and scrolls. He looked up as Zeke approached, a smile forming that quickly faded when he saw Zeke''s expression. "What can I do for¡ª" his voice faltered. "Zeke? Are you alright?" "Someone just tried to kill me," Zeke said without preamble, keeping his voice low. Adrian was on his feet instantly, leading Zeke to a secluded alcove where they wouldn''t be overheard. As Zeke related the events in the forest, the old librarian''s face grew increasingly grave. "You were lucky Ingrid was with you," Adrian said when Zeke finished. "Though I wouldn''t have been out there in the first place if she hadn''t invited me," Zeke pointed out with a wry smile. "Guess that sword cuts both ways." "I don''t blame her at all," he added quickly. "There''s no way she could have known. I just..." He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I''ve been so focused on the Trials, I figured if anyone wanted me dead, that''s how they''d do it. A duel gone wrong, a training accident ¨C not a knife in the back while I''m out for a walk." "I''ll see what I can discover," Adrian promised. "I have sources throughout the Academy that might know something. But Zeke, you need to report this to the Headmistress." Zeke groaned. "Do I have to? For all I know, she was behind it." "I doubt that," Adrian said firmly. "Florence doesn''t like you, but she''s not foolish. A dead student brings unwanted attention and questions. A student who fails a Trial is just a notation in a ledger." He leaned forward. "Besides, if your attacker is connected to the Academy, it''s best to establish that you report threats rather than hide them. Makes you a less appealing target." "You make a good point," Zeke conceded. "Doesn''t mean I''m looking forward to that conversation." "She''s not as terrible as you think," Adrian said with a small smile. "Once you convince her you''re not a waste of space, maybe," Zeke replied, standing up. As he turned to leave, Adrian called after him. "Oh! One more thing." "Yes?" Adrian''s expression softened. "I received word yesterday that fifty of the old House Levayne books are being returned from House Hobbson''s archives." Zeke paused, surprised by the news. "They included a note stating that as long as we remained allied with House Godfrey, they wished to have us as allies as well," Adrian continued, voice thick with emotion. "Both houses have launched research teams to study each other''s archives. I foresee a great period of intellectual cooperation in the future." He smiled warmly. "Thank you, Zeke. Whatever you did, it worked." Zeke returned the smile and bowed slightly. "Glad to hear it." He hadn''t expected Professor Harold to act so quickly on their conversation, but he was pleased nonetheless. The trek to the Headmistress''s office felt longer than usual, each step bringing Zeke closer to a conversation he''d rather avoid. Still, there was no getting around it. He knocked on the imposing door, bracing himself as it swung open with its customary booming sound. Headmistress Florence sat behind her desk, quill flying across parchment as she worked. She looked up as he entered, eyes narrowing in recognition. "You know, Godfrey, most students only visit this office once or twice during their entire Academy career," she remarked dryly. "While your determination to break records is admirable in some twisted sense, this is one I don''t recommend pursuing." "I wouldn''t be here if it wasn''t important, Headmistress," Zeke replied, standing straight. "Adrian de''Levayne suggested I speak with you immediately." "And what, pray tell, might be so urgent?" she asked, still writing. "Someone tried to kill me today," Zeke stated plainly. "I was in the Old Woods with Ingrid Stormhall when someone threw a knife at my head." The Headmistress''s hand froze mid-sentence, her gaze sharpening. "The Old Woods?" "Yes," Zeke confirmed. "Ingrid compiled a description of the attacker ¨C tall, heavy-set, dressed in brown." "Six and a half feet tall?" she demanded, setting down her quill. Zeke blinked in surprise. "Yes, exactly. How did you¡ª" "I will send for Stormhall immediately," the Headmistress interrupted, all pretense of disinterest gone. "You may leave." "With all due respect, Headmistress, I think I deserve to know what''s going on," Zeke countered. "Someone just tried to kill me." "And why, pray tell, would that be your concern?" she asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, for starters, I''d like to know if he''s specifically after me or just some madman in the woods," Zeke replied, refusing to be intimidated. "Those are two very different problems." The Headmistress seemed to weigh her options, lips pressed into a thin line. "If I tell you, and I discover you''ve shared this information with anyone, I will have you on the first carriage back to whatever remains of your estate. Is that clear?" "Crystal," Zeke replied. She leaned forward slightly. "We believe he is an escaped convict from the Capital. Reports began shortly after the first snowfall ¨C tracks were more visible, and he stood out against the white background. We organized a search but found only abandoned hideouts." Her voice lowered. "When we contacted the Capital, we learned of a jailbreak in late November. Several prisoners escaped, and one particular fugitive had been imprisoned for murdering numerous young adults. The description matches what we''ve pieced together, suggesting he''s been hiding in the Old Woods, watching for an opportunity. You''re the first person he''s actually attacked, to our knowledge." Zeke exhaled slowly, processing this information. "Why hasn''t the student body been warned?" "And cause mass panic?" The Headmistress raised an eyebrow. "We''ve increased patrols and taken precautions. The last thing we need is hundreds of terrified students, or worse, foolhardy ones venturing into the woods hoping to capture him themselves." She had a point, Zeke had to admit. He could easily imagine some of the more competitive students turning it into a contest. "I understand," he said finally. "I won''t speak of it." "See that you don''t," she replied, picking up her quill again. "Not even with Stormhall. Don''t write about it, don''t discuss it. As for the Old Woods ¨C I shouldn''t need to tell you to avoid them, though I suspect our fugitive will relocate after today''s failed attempt." She paused, her expression softening almost imperceptibly. "Thank you for reporting this promptly. Many students would have kept it to themselves. Now go, and be vigilant." Zeke left the Headmistress''s office feeling strangely relieved. If the knife-thrower was indeed an escaped prisoner rather than an assassin specifically targeting him, that was something of a comfort. Still, questions nagged at him. How had a known murderer evaded capture for so long? Why attack Zeke specifically? And why did the Headmistress seem so certain about the attacker''s identity without even speaking to Ingrid? As he descended the tower stairs, he nearly collided with Victoria, who was climbing up with purpose in her stride. "Careful, Godfrey," she warned, sidestepping gracefully. "What''s got you so distracted?" "Just Academy stuff," he replied vaguely, remembering his promise. "Heading to see the Headmistress?" "Council meeting," she confirmed. "Student representatives from each year. Probably boring administrative nonsense." "Probably," Zeke agreed, wondering if the meeting might actually be about the fugitive. "Have fun with that." In the main hall, he found Ralph waiting near the dining room entrance. "There you are!" his roommate called. "I was about to eat without you. Where''ve you been all afternoon?" "Just exploring," Zeke said, the half-truth coming easily. "Getting to know the grounds better." "Find anything interesting?" Ralph asked as they entered the dining hall. Zeke just smiled and shook his head. "Nothing special. Just needed some fresh air." [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior Endurance [Active Quests:] [Back to Normal: Go about your ordinary business without telling anyone of the attack] [Unseen Shadows: Remain vigilant for further threats] 38. Come Midnight [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 1] [Date: January 11, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] Life at the Academy fell back into its familiar rhythm after Professor Harold returned from his trip. Zeke''s schedule once again became a relentless cycle of training, studying, and more training. In some ways, the grueling routine was a blessing. It left little time to dwell on the knife-thrower in the woods or worry about who might want him dead. The evening of January 11th found Zeke trudging up the stairs to his dormitory, hands throbbing from the day''s intense aura exercises. Professor Harold had been pushing him to project his aura farther from his body, a skill that would be essential for his upcoming Trial. By the time he reached his room, every muscle ached with a deep, satisfying fatigue. He collapsed onto his bed with a dramatic groan, and Ralph glanced up from the book he was reading. "You know what they say about too much work," his roommate remarked. Zeke raised an eyebrow. "Do tell?" "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." Ralph held up a finger sagely. "I like to abide by that principle." "You''re going to get kicked out for being too lazy," Zeke replied, though there was no real criticism in his tone. He forced himself up and walked to their window, where frost patterns decorated the edges of the glass. "And you''ll graduate without a single friend or connection to help you in the world beyond," Ralph countered. "That''s what I''m doing here, building relationships. I''m not the heir or brother of an heir. I''m just a fifth cousin twice removed, which means I only need to know people and be rich. I can do that without all the extra training." Zeke snorted and shook his head, gazing out at the moonlit grounds. The silver light transformed the Academy, giving the stone spires an ethereal glow and making the few remaining patches of snow shine like beacons against the dark ground. That''s when he noticed it, a shadow moving across one of those bright patches of snow. He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "That''s strange..." "I don''t like that look," Ralph said, setting down his book. "That''s the look people get right before doing something really stupid." "Someone''s out there," Zeke murmured, tracking the shadow as it moved across the grounds. It reached one of the gates leading to the Training Woods and paused, clearly backlit by snow. The figure seemed to beckon to someone behind it, then slipped through the gate. Moments later, more shadows darted across the courtyards, sometimes vanishing behind spires before reappearing. "Something''s happening down there," Zeke said, excitement building in his chest. "And let me guess, your fear of missing out is too strong to just let it happen?" Ralph raised an eyebrow. "I need to see what''s going on," Zeke decided, already moving. He grabbed his sword and belted it on, then collected his sling and several smooth stones from his nightstand. Ingrid had been teaching him to use the weapon over the past weeks, and while it had taken time to master, he''d come to appreciate its advantages. Small, easily concealed, and silent. He paused at the door, listening for the telltale sounds of patrolling gargoyles. "I''ll start planning your funeral!" Ralph called as Zeke slipped out. The corridors were silent except for the occasional rumble of stone feet against stone floors. Zeke had learned the gargoyles'' patterns well enough to anticipate them, ducking into doorways and alcoves whenever he heard one approaching. He made it down the spiral staircase without incident, but rather than heading for the main doors, he veered toward a specific window on the ground floor. Zeke had noticed the gargoyles used certain windows to patrol outside the castle, which meant those same windows could serve as exits. Finding one unlatched, he quickly slipped through, pulling it closed behind him before dropping to the ground outside. The night air bit at his face as he pressed himself against the castle wall, moving through deep shadows toward where he''d seen the figures. When he reached the corner nearest the gate, he paused to assess the situation. Between him and the gate stretched an open expanse of courtyards and training grounds, about three hundred feet with little cover. Anyone looking out their window would easily spot him crossing. But what choice did he have? Keeping low and avoiding the patches of bright snow, Zeke darted across the open space. His heart pounded, not from fear but from the thrill of the chase. This was exactly the kind of adventure he''d read about in books, never imagining he''d experience it himself. Reaching the outer wall, he slipped through the gate into the Training Woods. He paused, scanning the trees for any sign of the mysterious figures. Nothing moved in the darkness, no sound except the whisper of wind through bare branches. Which way would they have gone? The Old Woods? The Dark Forest? He had no way to tell. Then, carried on the breeze, a fragment of sound reached his ears. A voice, perhaps, or the crack of a branch. It came from the direction of the Dark Forest. Without hesitation, Zeke moved deeper into the woods, stepping carefully to avoid crunching through patches of snow. Soon, a flickering light appeared between the trees ahead. Zeke approached cautiously, moving from trunk to trunk for cover until he reached a massive oak not twenty feet from the source of the light. A small fire burned in a clearing, surrounded by figures in black hooded cloaks. Zeke counted twelve of them, arranged in a circle, chanting in unison with arms raised toward the night sky. His blood ran cold at the sight, but curiosity kept him rooted to the spot. Every instinct told him to run, yet he had to know what this was. One figure rose and stepped forward, continuing the chant in a louder, deeper voice. Though Zeke strained to understand, the language was unlike anything he''d heard before, full of guttural sounds and strange clicks. The standing figure circled the fire, making elaborate gestures with gloved hands. Suddenly, the flames roared upward, taking the form of an owl''s head with blazing blue eyes. The fiery apparition turned slowly, as if examining each cloaked figure in turn. "What in the world...?" Zeke whispered, shifting slightly for a better view. The owl''s head snapped toward him instantly, its eyes flashing from blue to yellow. It opened its beak in a silent screech, and all twelve hooded figures whirled to face Zeke''s hiding place. "After him!" the leader shouted, voice deep and commanding. Zeke didn''t wait to see more. He bolted through the trees as fireballs exploded against the ground behind him. The cultists gave chase, their shouts echoing through the woods. Rather than simply running, Zeke made a split-second decision. He ducked behind another massive tree, grabbed a low-hanging branch, and pulled himself up. Climbing swiftly and silently, he reached a secure position just as his pursuers arrived below. "Where did he go?" "I saw him this way!" "No, he''s not there!" "You idiot, you let him escape!" "He''s not gone." The deep voice of the leader silenced the others. "I can feel his presence... he''s still here." Zeke''s mind raced. They were searching the ground thoroughly, and it was only a matter of time before someone thought to look up. He needed a distraction. Reaching into his pocket, he extracted one of his sling stones. Taking careful aim at a spot far from his position, he threw it hard. The stone clattered loudly against the stone wall in the distance. "I heard something!" one of the cloaked figures shouted. "This way!" "He''s heading for the Academy!" "Don''t let him reach it!" The group rushed toward the sound, all except one figure who hesitated, seemingly uncertain. Zeke waited until the others were out of sight, then carefully loaded his sling. The stone flew true, striking the lone cultist at the base of the skull. The figure crumpled without a sound. Zeke descended quickly and approached the fallen figure. He needed to know who these people were. Kneeling beside the unconscious form, he pushed back the hood. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Diocletian''s face stared up at him, eyes closed. "Somehow, I''m not surprised," Zeke muttered, patting him on the shoulder. "I suddenly feel a lot less bad about locking you in the library." The sound of voices returning spurred Zeke into motion. He couldn''t go back through the main gate, they''d be watching it. He needed another way into the Academy. Following the outer wall, he ran toward the river that bordered the Academy grounds. As the rushing water grew louder, an idea formed. If he remembered correctly from the maps he''d studied... There it was, a large dark opening in the cliff face below the Academy. The sewer entrance. "Not the most dignified way back in," Zeke said to himself, "but beggars can''t be choosers." He carefully climbed down to the opening and slipped inside. The tunnel was large enough to walk through comfortably, though the smell left much to be desired. The passage was mostly dry, with just a trickle of snowmelt running down its center. "According to every adventure story I''ve ever read, sewers are the best way to infiltrate a castle," he muttered, moving quickly through the darkness. He soon encountered a heavy iron grate blocking the tunnel. The bars were thick, with gaps too small for even a child to squeeze through. But upon closer inspection, Zeke noticed something interesting. A section had been cut out and fitted with hinges, creating a makeshift door. Some enterprising student from years past had created a secret entrance. "Thank you, unknown predecessor," Zeke whispered, flipping the latch and slipping through. The sewer system beneath Leoncrest was more extensive than he''d imagined. The main tunnel led straight to the castle, where it branched into smaller passages, each one rising higher than the last. Zeke followed the upward path until he reached a grate that opened into a small garden near the dining hall. Pushing it aside, he climbed out into the crisp night air, filthy but triumphant. All that remained was to reach his dormitory without being caught by patrolling gargoyles, a challenge he''d mastered weeks ago. As he crept through the silent halls, his mind raced with questions. What was that ritual? Who were those people? And most importantly, what did it have to do with Diocletian? One thing was clear: this was bigger and more dangerous than a simple Academy rivalry. This had all the markings of something sinister, perhaps even connected to the Court of Owls mentioned in the old stories. For now, though, he would keep what he''d seen to himself. With no proof beyond his word, and with no idea how far the cult''s influence reached, speaking out might only put him in greater danger. "Where have you been?" Ralph demanded when Zeke finally slipped back into their room. "And why do you smell like the wrong end of a sewer?" "Because I came in through the right end of one," Zeke replied with a grin, pulling off his filthy boots. Ralph''s eyes widened. "You actually went out there? What did you see?" Zeke hesitated. Ralph was his roommate and something of a friend, but could he trust him with this? Better to keep it simple. "Just some students sneaking out to meet up in the woods," he said with a casual shrug. "Nothing exciting." "So you risked getting expelled for nothing?" Ralph asked skeptically. "I wouldn''t say that," Zeke replied, thinking of Diocletian''s face beneath the hood. "I learned something useful. Always good to know who''s breaking rules and why." Ralph shook his head. "You''re insane, you know that? Most people would be focusing on their upcoming Trial, not playing detective in the middle of the night." The Trial. With everything that had happened, Zeke had almost forgotten how close it was. Professor Harold had said it would test his ability to project and control his aura at a distance, exactly what they''d been practicing. "Speaking of the Trial," Zeke said, changing the subject, "do you know anything about the Aura Labyrinth?" "Only rumors," Ralph replied, seeming relieved by the topic shift. "They say it''s different for everyone, the maze responds to your aura signature and creates a unique path. Touch the walls and you fail." "Sounds straightforward enough," Zeke mused. "That''s what everyone thinks until they''re in it," Ralph warned. "The walls don''t just sit there, they move, they change, they try to trap you. Some students say it''s like the maze is alive, testing not just your aura control but your resolve." That was concerning, but Zeke pushed aside his worry. He''d been training hard, he could handle whatever the Labyrinth threw at him. "Well, I should probably get some sleep then," he said, heading for the washbasin to clean up. "Big day tomorrow." "You''re not going to tell me what really happened out there, are you?" Ralph asked. Zeke just smiled. "Sweet dreams, Ralph." The next morning dawned bright and cold. Zeke woke early, his mind still processing what he''d witnessed the night before. As he dressed, he caught sight of his sword leaning against the wall, a simple training blade, nothing special. But it was his, and it had served him well so far. Today''s schedule was packed with classes and training, culminating in another aura session with Professor Harold. Despite his late-night adventure, Zeke felt surprisingly energized. The mystery of the cult gave him something new to focus on, a puzzle to solve beyond just surviving his classes and Trials. As he headed to breakfast, he spotted Diocletian in the dining hall, looking perfectly normal, if a bit tired. No sign of the blow to the head Zeke had delivered the night before. Their eyes met briefly, and Diocletian''s narrowed in suspicion but showed no recognition. Either he hadn''t seen Zeke''s face in the darkness, or he was a very good actor. Zeke filled his plate and found a seat near Victoria and Ingrid. "You look cheerful for someone with an Aura Trial coming up," Victoria commented, eyeing him over her cup. "Why wouldn''t I be?" Zeke replied. "The sun is shining, the food is... well, it''s food, and I''m making progress with my training." Ingrid studied him with a thoughtful expression. "You''re up to something." "Me? Never," Zeke said, feigning innocence. "Just focused on my next Trial. Speaking of which, either of you done the Aura Labyrinth before?" Victoria nodded. "First year. It''s challenging but fair." "Any advice?" Zeke asked. "Trust your instincts," she said after a moment''s consideration. "The Labyrinth responds to hesitation, show weakness and it will exploit it." "Also," Ingrid added, "don''t get distracted. Some students report seeing things in there, visions, memories, even fears. Keep your mind on the path forward." Visions and memories? That was new information, and potentially troubling. Zeke wondered what the Labyrinth might show him, his family? The knife-thrower in the woods? Last night''s cult meeting? "Thanks for the tips," he said, finishing his breakfast. "I should get to class." As he rose, Victoria caught his arm. "By the way, did you hear about Diocletian? Someone attacked him in the woods last night, found him unconscious near the Training Grounds this morning." Zeke''s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his expression neutral. "Really? Is he okay?" "Fine, just a headache," she replied. "Claims he doesn''t remember what happened. Probably snuck out to meet a girl and got jumped instead." "Or he doesn''t want to admit what he was really doing out there," Ingrid suggested. "Either way, the Headmistress is furious," Victoria continued. "New curfew enforcement measures are coming, magical wards on all exits, they say." That would complicate any future nighttime investigations. Zeke filed the information away for later. "Well, glad he''s alright," Zeke said. "Never wish serious harm, even on rivals." Ingrid''s eyebrows rose slightly at his magnanimous tone, but she said nothing. Throughout his morning classes, Zeke found his thoughts drifting to the owl in the fire and what it might mean. The Court of Owls was mentioned in Academy legends as a secret society of powerful figures who manipulated events from the shadows. Most students dismissed it as fiction, but after what he''d seen... During his afternoon break, he slipped into the library, finding a quiet corner where he could browse books on Academy history. Most contained only passing references to the Court, rumors, unsubstantiated claims, conspiracy theories. Nothing concrete. "Looking for something specific?" Zeke nearly jumped out of his skin. Adrian stood behind him, arms folded across his chest. "Just general Academy history," Zeke said quickly. "Thought I''d learn more about the place while I''m here." Adrian glanced at the open books. "The Court of Owls is a fascinating topic, though mostly legend these days." "So it was real once?" Zeke asked, unable to contain his curiosity. "There are records from the Second Age that suggest a group of powerful mages formed a council they called the Court," Adrian said, voice low. "They claimed to work for the greater good, guiding the kingdom from behind the scenes. But power corrupts, and eventually their methods became... questionable." "What happened to them?" "The official record says they were disbanded by the King''s forces centuries ago," Adrian replied. "Though some believe they simply went deeper into hiding." He fixed Zeke with a penetrating stare. "Why the sudden interest?" "Just curious," Zeke said with a shrug. "Hard not to be when there''s a severed head in a jar in the Headmistress''s office." Adrian didn''t look convinced, but he didn''t press further. "Your aura session with Professor Harold begins soon. You shouldn''t be late." Zeke nodded, returning the books to their shelves. As he turned to leave, Adrian called after him. "Zeke?" "Yes?" "Be careful where your curiosity leads you. Some secrets are kept for good reason." Professor Harold''s office was filled with the usual collection of aura-infused objects. Today, a new addition stood in the center of the room, a large cube made of what appeared to be glass, though it shimmered with an inner light. "Your progress has been excellent," Professor Harold said as Zeke entered. "Today, we''ll attempt something more challenging, a miniature version of what you''ll face in the Labyrinth." He gestured to the cube. "This is an Aura Maze. Much smaller than the real Labyrinth, of course, but operating on the same principles. Your task is to guide your aura through it without touching the walls." Zeke approached the cube, examining it closely. Inside was a complex system of transparent barriers, forming a three-dimensional maze. "How will I see where my aura is going?" he asked. "You won''t, not with your eyes," Professor Harold replied. "You''ll need to feel it, sense its position and movement through your connection to it." That sounded significantly harder than anything they''d tried before. "And if I touch a wall?" "You''ll know," the professor said with a small smile. "Nothing dangerous, but quite uncomfortable. Consider it motivation." Zeke took a deep breath and focused. This was what all their practice had been building toward. He extended his aura into the cube, feeling it separate from his body, a strange sensation, like stretching an invisible limb. The moment his aura entered the maze, the walls glowed faintly. He could sense them now, not see them, exactly, but feel their presence as resistance against his aura''s movement. Slowly, carefully, he guided his aura through the first turn. So far, so good. The second turn was tighter, requiring more precise control. "Excellent," Professor Harold murmured. "Now try increasing your speed slightly." Zeke accelerated his aura''s movement, navigating the next several turns with growing confidence. This wasn''t so hard after all. Then the maze shifted. Without warning, the walls rearranged themselves, blocking his planned path. Zeke''s aura nearly collided with a barrier that hadn''t been there a second before. "The real Labyrinth does that too," Professor Harold explained calmly. "It responds to your confidence, when you think you''ve mastered it, it changes the rules." Adapting quickly, Zeke found a new route. The walls shifted again, and again he adjusted. For nearly an hour, this dance continued, Zeke finding paths, the maze changing them, Professor Harold offering occasional guidance. By the end, Zeke was drenched in sweat, but his aura had successfully navigated the entire cube. "Very impressive," Professor Harold said as Zeke collapsed into a chair. "Few students master the cube in their first session." "Will the real Labyrinth be that responsive?" Zeke asked, wiping his brow. "More so," the professor replied. "And significantly larger, with more complex shifts. But the principle is the same, adaptation is key." As Zeke prepared to leave, Professor Harold added, "Oh, and I received a message from your father. He sends his regards and wishes you success in your upcoming Trial." Zeke paused, surprised. His father rarely sent personal messages. "Thank you for letting me know." "He also mentioned that House Godfrey has secured a new alliance with House Byron," the professor continued. "Apparently, your family''s fortunes are improving." That was unexpected but welcome news. Perhaps his efforts here were already having positive effects back home. "One more thing before you go," Professor Harold said. "The books from House Hobbson arrived safely at House Levayne''s archives. Adrian asked me to convey his deepest gratitude." Zeke nodded, pleased that at least one of his initiatives had borne fruit. "I''m glad to hear it." As he walked back to his dormitory that evening, Zeke felt a strange mix of emotions. The Trial ahead was daunting, yet he felt more prepared than he''d expected. The mystery of the cult and the Court of Owls tugged at his curiosity, demanding investigation. And somewhere in the Academy, Diocletian was nursing a headache, perhaps planning his next move. Life at Leoncrest was certainly never boring. Between deadly Trials, midnight adventures, and ancient conspiracies, Zeke had found more excitement than he''d ever dreamed possible back at the Godfrey estate. And despite the danger, or perhaps because of it, he wouldn''t have it any other way. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning [Active Quests:] [Trial Preparation: Master the Aura Labyrinth techniques] [Secret Investigation: Learn more about the Court of Owls] 39. Circle [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 1] [Date: January 13, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] For the next few days after his midnight adventure, Zeke kept his head down and eyes open. He watched Diocletian carefully between classes, noting the impressive welt on the back of his head that the other boy tried to hide by keeping his hood up. Despite his vigilance, Zeke didn''t catch Diocletian speaking with any suspicious figures or sneaking off to secret meetings. In fact, everyone involved seemed to be pretending nothing had happened at all. During lunch on the 13th, Zeke noticed Diocletian sitting with his usual group, laughing a bit too loudly at someone''s joke while constantly readjusting his hood. "What''s so interesting about Diocletian today?" Victoria asked, sliding onto the bench across from him with her tray. Zeke shrugged, quickly looking away. "Nothing. Just wondering why he''s wearing a hood indoors." "Heard he got into a fight in the Training Woods," she replied, spearing a potato with her fork. "Won''t say with who, though. Probably embarrassed he lost." "Probably," Zeke agreed, hiding his smile behind a cup of water. Victoria studied him for a moment. "Your Trial''s coming up soon, isn''t it? Three days from now?" The reminder sent a jolt through Zeke''s stomach. "That''s right." "Nervous?" "Excited," Zeke corrected her. It wasn''t entirely true, but it wasn''t entirely false either. Part of him was genuinely looking forward to proving himself. "Professor Harold says I''m making good progress." "Well, good luck," Victoria said. "The Aura Labyrinth isn''t easy, but it''s fair. Just keep your wits about you." "That''s what I''ve heard," Zeke nodded, finishing his lunch. "Thanks for the encouragement." As he headed to his afternoon classes, Zeke wondered if any of the hooded figures he''d seen that night were walking among the other students right now, pretending to be normal Academy attendees. The thought made his skin crawl, but also fueled his determination. Whatever they were planning, he''d be ready. That evening, Zeke returned to his bedroom after his aura training session, his mind and body equally exhausted. Professor Harold had been pushing him harder than ever, preparing him for the upcoming Trial. He flopped down at his desk and pulled out a dense textbook, flipping it open with a sigh. "What''s that?" Ralph asked from his bed. Zeke''s roommate was reading his own book, though he seemed more interested in idly flipping pages than actually reading the content. "Politics homework," Zeke muttered. "It''s a volume on proper court etiquette, written in novel form. Basically just people walking around in a room doing good things and bad things, with everyone either praising or yelling at them." "Sounds thrilling," Ralph replied dryly. "It was written by the professor," Zeke explained, which earned a knowing grimace from Ralph. "Say no more." Ralph suddenly snapped his fingers as if remembering something. "Speaking of reading materials, you have a letter. It''s on my desk somewhere." Zeke perked up immediately. "A letter? From who?" "Didn''t check," Ralph shrugged. "Not addressed to me, is it?" Zeke crossed to Ralph''s cluttered desk, digging through piles of half-written assignments, crumpled papers, and oddly, several orange peels. He finally spotted an envelope tucked beneath a stack of books, rescuing it with a triumphant "Aha!" The handwriting on the front was instantly recognizable ¨C bold, slightly slanted strokes that could only belong to Artax. Zeke returned to his own desk, slitting open the envelope with an eager finger. He pulled out a single sheet of paper and unfolded it carefully. "Hey, Zeke! This is Artax. Hope all is well up there!" Warmth flooded through Zeke''s chest at his brother''s words. With everything that had happened recently ¨C knife-wielding assassins, mysterious cult meetings, and the looming Trial ¨C he''d almost forgotten how much he missed his family. Well, Artax at least. "You asked me in your previous letter what I used to do for fun around the Academy. Unfortunately, not much. One of the harsh realities of being a Godfrey at the Academy is that you''re held to a much higher standard than the rest of the students. You have to train longer and harder, and it certainly does seem like you have that part of things down pat!" Zeke smiled. Leave it to Artax to find a way to encourage him even from a distance. "That said, there were a few things I managed to find to do for fun. For starters, trying to hunt down all the Academy legends. There are quite a few of them, and while not all of them are real, quite a few of them have some merit. Ask Adrian about the Ghost of the Attic, it''s an interesting story." "Already found one legend," Zeke murmured to himself, thinking of the secret room behind the stone lion. "That said, the one thing that I really enjoyed was the board game club. I think it''s technically called the Strategy Circle. It started out as a war game simulator for the upperclassmen, but it''s sorta evolved since then. You should check it out, you might just find that you like it." A board game club? That seemed so... normal. Zeke hadn''t expected something so ordinary from his legendary brother. "Anyway, wish I could see you more. We''re getting details for the wedding put together, I''ll send them to you here in a few weeks when they''re ready. Catch you later! Artax." Zeke read the letter again, smiling at his brother''s enthusiasm about the wedding. Despite everything that had happened to Artax ¨C losing his aura core, stepping back from his position as heir ¨C he''d found happiness. Maybe there was hope for Zeke too. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was getting late, but not yet curfew. "Hey, Ralph?" he turned, tucking the letter into his pocket. "Have you ever heard of the Strategy Circle?" Ralph looked up from his book, brow furrowed in thought. "Oh yeah, them? For sure. They''re that board game club, right? They meet in Tower 10, I think." He glanced at the clock. "Actually, I think they''re meeting tonight. You''d have to hurry to make it before curfew, though." Zeke was already on his feet, grabbing his coat. "Perfect! Thanks!" "Wait, you''re going now?" Ralph called after him. "Your Trial is in three days!" "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy!" Zeke called back, echoing Ralph''s own words from days earlier. "Besides, Artax recommended it!" Before Ralph could protest further, Zeke was out the door and racing down the stairs. The last stragglers were making their way back to their rooms, but the patrol gargoyles hadn''t yet emerged for their nightly rounds ¨C he still had time. He sprinted across the main hall, narrowly avoiding a collision with a group of first-years. The halls were quieter than usual, most students already settled in their dormitories for the night. Zeke reached Tower 10 and started up the stairs, only to nearly run into a professor descending from above. "Whoa there, young man!" the professor said, steadying himself against the wall. "What''s the rush?" "Sorry, sir," Zeke replied, catching his breath. "I''m looking for the Strategy Circle. Do you know where they meet?" The professor''s stern expression softened. "Ah, a game enthusiast! Floor 3, room 17." He pointed upward. "Better hurry, though. Curfew''s almost upon us." "Thank you, sir!" Zeke continued his ascent, reaching the third floor just as the distant sound of windows opening announced the emergence of the patrol gargoyles. He found room 17 and knocked quickly before pushing the door open. The room that greeted him was larger than he''d expected, filled with tables of different shapes and sizes. No chairs ¨C everyone stood around the tables, leaning over game boards with intense concentration. Nearly three dozen students filled the space, representing every house in the Academy from their varied robes. "Hey, welcome!" called a student in the crimson and gold of House Minziar, waving Zeke in. "Come in, come in!" Zeke blinked in surprise. He''d never received such a warm welcome from anyone in House Minziar before. Usually they just sneered or ignored him entirely. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. The student crossed the room, hand extended. "You''re Zeke de''Godfrey, right? Here to complete the Trials?" "That''s me," Zeke confirmed, shaking the offered hand cautiously. "Is that going to be a problem?" "Not at all!" The boy grinned, revealing a chipped front tooth that somehow made his smile more genuine. "Name''s Jack. Jack de''Minziar. Here in the Strategy Circle, you''ll find people from every single house." He gestured around the room proudly. "The rule on the door is that you can stab someone in the back the moment you walk out of this room, but in here? The only way you''re killing someone is by defeating them on the board." Something in Jack''s eyes told Zeke he was completely serious, despite his friendly tone. This was neutral ground ¨C sacred space where house rivalries were set aside in favor of friendly competition. "My brother mentioned this place," Zeke said. "Said he really enjoyed it during his time here." Jack''s eyes lit up. "Your brother? Let me see... that''d be Artax, right?" He snapped his fingers. "He''s actually in our book of champions!" "Book of champions?" Zeke repeated, intrigued. Jack''s grin widened. "Let''s start from the top, and I''ll explain what this place is all about." For the next fifteen minutes, Jack led Zeke around the room, explaining the different types of games and how the club operated. The largest table contained what Jack called the original wargame ¨C an elaborate battle simulation played on a huge map of a rocky valley, with wooden figures representing troops and commanders. "This is where it all started," Jack explained, gesturing to the eight players intensely focused on the map. "The leadership students needed practical experience with strategy, so they created this game. It''s still the most complex thing we play." They moved to several round tables where students played with cards, tokens, and tiles, building imaginary kingdoms, trading resources, and forming alliances that lasted only until someone got too powerful. "These are our mid-level strategy games," Jack continued. "They tend to be themed around building something ¨C villages, trade empires, magical academies, that sort of thing. Less direct conflict than the wargames, but still highly competitive." Finally, they reached a section with smaller tables where pairs of students hunched over familiar games like chess, checkers, and mancala, along with some Zeke had never seen before. "And these are our classics," Jack finished. "Games you''ll find in taverns and noble houses alike. Simple to learn, difficult to master." At the far end of the room stood a pedestal holding a large leather-bound book, reminiscent of the guest book in the secret room behind the lion statue. "And this," Jack said with reverence, "is the Book of Champions. Every year at the end of spring semester, we hold a tournament. Everyone chooses one category to compete in ¨C wargames, mid-weight, or classics. After we crown a champion in each category, those three play each other in all categories to determine the overall victor." He opened the book to a page marked with a red ribbon. "Your brother never claimed the overall championship, but he won the mid-weight bracket twice and the wargames once. Pretty impressive record." Zeke ran his finger down the page until he found Artax''s name, written in elegant script alongside his accomplishments. Somehow, knowing his brother had been here, had played these same games, made Zeke feel closer to him than he had in months. "This is amazing," Zeke said, meaning it. "Count me in!" "Great!" Jack replied. "Unfortunately, you''ve caught us toward the end of tonight''s session. You''re welcome to watch any game you want, or we could probably get you into a quick classic game if you''d like to play. We have guardgoyle passes by the door if you want to stay late, but most folks head back at a decent hour." "I''ll just watch for now," Zeke decided, drawn back to the wargame table. "I want to see how this works." He approached the massive battle map, fascinated by the intricate setup. The map was marked with a subtle hexagonal grid, and the wooden pieces varied in size and detail, clearly representing different types of units. Each team had four players ¨C one captain and three generals ¨C all intensely focused on the battle unfolding before them. "Alright," murmured the captain of the red team, a tall girl with a serious expression. "Donald, you move, and Lucy, I want you to see if you can go around their flank." Zeke watched as the team structure became clear. The captain gave general orders, and the generals executed them as best they could. Once all three had moved their pieces, they gave brief reports back to their captain. "I''d suggest charging up the middle," one general whispered. "I don''t think I''ve got enough power to flank them," Lucy replied, gesturing to her units. "I need more resources." When the red team finished, play passed to the blue side, whose captain orchestrated a frontal assault that tore through the red defensive line in several places. Dice clattered across the table, determining combat outcomes ¨C larger dice for more powerful units, Zeke noticed. After the blue attack, the red captain paused to consider her options. "Everyone hold. Raise guards. Don, transfer some of your resources to Lucy. You too, Bud." The red team repositioned their forces, bringing forward what appeared to be defensive units. The other generals passed cards to Lucy, who accepted them with a calculating smile. The blue team launched another attack on their turn, but the reinforced red defenses held in most areas, with only minor breakthroughs. When red took control again, Zeke could feel the tension in the air. "Everyone, you know what to do," the red captain said simply. Lucy grinned and played several cards from her hand, dramatically increasing the power of her units. The blue team groaned collectively as her forces surged forward, punching through their line and driving toward their base. Over the next few turns, Lucy''s forces cut through the remaining blue defenses and captured their castle. "And that''s the end!" declared the red captain, extending her hand to her blue counterpart. "Good game." "Good game," the blue captain replied reluctantly, shaking her hand. "How do you always beat me? Your dice rolls are impossibly lucky." "Luck has nothing to do with it," she replied with a smirk. "Strategy beats chance every time." As the two captains continued their good-natured banter, one of the blue generals looked up from a sheet covered in calculations. "Wait a minute! I''ve been tallying the scores, and it looks like we win after all!" "What?" The red captain spun around. "How?" "We still have all five of our generals on the field," he explained, pointing to the figures still standing. "They''re worth 100 points each, which gives us... 724 points from surviving units. You got 200 points for capturing our base, and you took out a lot of our troops, but four of your generals fell, which leaves you with only 649 points. That makes it a Pyrrhic Victory, and we claim the win!" The blue team erupted in cheers while the red players groaned and protested. Zeke couldn''t help laughing at the dramatic reversal. "So," Jack asked, returning to Zeke''s side. "Think you''re ready to join us next week?" Zeke nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. Count me in." By the time Zeke left the Strategy Circle, curfew had long since begun. Jack provided him with a guardgoyle pass ¨C a small stone token engraved with the Academy seal that, when presented to a patrol gargoyle, would allow him safe passage back to his dormitory. As he walked through the silent halls, Zeke felt lighter than he had in weeks. Between assassins, cults, and the pressure of his upcoming Trial, he''d forgotten what it felt like to simply enjoy something for its own sake. The Strategy Circle had reminded him that there was more to Academy life than just survival and training. He encountered a gargoyle near the main hall, its stone eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. Zeke held up his pass, and the creature examined it before stepping aside with a grinding sound that might have been grudging approval. "Thanks," Zeke said, though he wasn''t sure the gargoyle understood human speech. As he climbed the stairs to Tower 1, Zeke''s mind was already working through strategies for the wargame. Perhaps he''d start with classics to learn the basics, then work his way up to the more complex games. The tournament was months away ¨C he had time to improve. Ralph was still awake when Zeke returned, though he''d moved from reading to sketching something in a notebook. "You''re back later than I expected," Ralph remarked without looking up. "Find the Strategy Circle?" "I did," Zeke replied, hanging up his coat. "It''s amazing, Ralph. People from every house playing together like house rivalries don''t even exist." "That''s the beauty of games," Ralph said, finally looking up from his drawing. "They create their own rivalries that make the old ones seem pointless." He tilted his head. "So, you going back?" "Definitely," Zeke nodded. "Next week, after my Trial." "Speaking of which," Ralph flipped his notebook closed, "shouldn''t you be resting? Big day coming up." "I''ll be fine," Zeke said, dropping onto his bed. "Sometimes the best preparation is giving your mind a break." "If you say so," Ralph replied skeptically. "Just don''t blame me if you fall asleep in the middle of your Labyrinth." Zeke laughed. "I won''t." He pulled off his boots, thinking about what he''d witnessed tonight. "You know, it''s strange." "What is?" "I saw a Minziar and a Godfrey laughing together tonight. A Dracthen and a Stragga working as teammates. Houses that have been enemies for generations, all getting along." "Within those four walls," Ralph reminded him. "Step outside and it''s business as usual." "But why?" Zeke pressed. "If they can set aside their differences for a board game, why not for everything else?" Ralph shrugged. "Centuries of grudges don''t disappear overnight. Besides, some of those rivalries are practical ¨C houses competing for the same resources or positions at court." "I suppose," Zeke conceded, though he wasn''t entirely convinced. What he''d seen tonight gave him hope that perhaps the rigid house system wasn''t as immutable as everyone claimed. As he drifted toward sleep, Zeke''s thoughts wandered to his upcoming Trial, then to the mysterious cult meeting in the woods, and finally to the Strategy Circle. Three very different challenges, each requiring its own approach. For the Trial, he needed focus and discipline. For the cult, vigilance and caution. For the games, creativity and adaptability. Different skills, but all essential parts of who he was becoming at Leoncrest. Not just a warrior, not just a Godfrey heir, but something more complex ¨C a strategist in his own right. With that satisfying thought, Zeke fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The next morning, Zeke woke early and headed to the dining hall for breakfast. He spotted Elise sitting alone by a window and joined her, sliding his tray onto the table. "Morning," he greeted her cheerfully. "Sleep well?" "Better than you, apparently," she replied, eyeing him curiously. "You look...different today." "Different good or different bad?" "Different good," she decided after a moment. "Like you''ve figured something out." Zeke grinned, spearing a sausage with his fork. "I found it." "Found what?" "A hobby," he announced proudly. "Something that''s not training or studying or avoiding death by mysterious attackers." Elise raised her eyebrows, intrigued. "Do tell." Between bites, Zeke described the Strategy Circle and the games he''d observed the night before. As he spoke, Elise''s expression grew increasingly amused. "What?" he asked when he''d finished. "Why are you looking at me like that?" "Because," she said, trying not to laugh, "all this time you''ve been stressing about finding some exotic hobby, and you end up with board games?" "They''re strategic simulations," Zeke corrected her with mock seriousness. "Very sophisticated." "Of course they are," she agreed, eyes twinkling. "And I''m sure they have nothing to do with your competitive nature or need to outsmart everyone around you." "I have no idea what you''re talking about," Zeke said innocently, though they both knew she''d hit the mark perfectly. "Well, I''m happy for you," Elise said sincerely. "Everyone needs something that''s just for fun." "You should join me sometime," Zeke suggested. "They have all kinds of games ¨C not just the war ones." "Maybe I will," she replied. "After your Trial. Speaking of which, how are you feeling about it?" "Ready," Zeke said with more confidence than he truly felt. "Professor Harold''s been drilling me relentlessly. If I can handle his practice mazes, I can handle the real thing." "That''s the spirit," Elise encouraged him. "Just remember what Victoria always says ¨C the Labyrinth responds to fear and hesitation. Stay confident, even if you''re not sure." "Good advice," Zeke nodded, finishing his breakfast. "I should go ¨C morning training with Victoria before class." As he stood to leave, Elise caught his arm. "Zeke? I''m glad you found something you enjoy. You deserve some fun among all this pressure." The simple statement warmed him more than he expected. "Thanks, Elise. That means a lot." Heading out into the crisp morning air, Zeke felt balanced for the first time since arriving at Leoncrest. The Trial loomed large, yes, but it no longer seemed like his entire world depended on it. He had friends, he had interests, he had a life beyond just surviving the Trials. Whatever the Labyrinth held, he would face it with a clear mind and a lighter heart ¨C and that might make all the difference. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurace, Cunning [Active Quests:] [Game On: Return to the Strategy Circle after your Trial] [Aura Labyrinth: Complete your next Trial successfully] 40. Sparring Warning [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Sparring Courtyard] [Date: January 20, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] Morning frost still clung to the cobblestones as students gathered in the sparring courtyard, breath forming clouds in the chilly air. Despite the cold, Zeke felt energized. His Trial was approaching fast, and every practice session brought him one step closer to being ready. "Form up!" Victoria called, pacing before the assembled students. "Today we''re working on combination attacks. If you can master these, you''ll have an advantage against any single-strike fighter." The class arranged themselves in neat rows, practice swords at the ready. Victoria demonstrated the sequence first, her movements fluid and precise. "And... lunge!" she commanded. The class surged forward as one, blades striking invisible opponents. "Slash! Lunge! That''s it!" Zeke''s arms burned with the effort, but he pushed through it. This formal class was actually easier than the dawn training sessions Victoria ran for the truly dedicated, but it counted toward his grade, so he put everything into each movement. "Faster!" Victoria called. "An enemy won''t wait while you catch your breath!" They repeated the sequence again and again, sweat streaming despite the January chill. From the corner of his eye, Zeke noticed several professors watching from the edge of the courtyard, clipboards in hand. Victoria''s evaluation day. After a final sequence that left everyone gasping, Victoria called them to attention. The senior professor stepped forward, a thin man with silver-streaked hair and the green and silver robes of House Reinfir. "Not bad," he declared with a nod. "It certainly looks like you''ve been doing good work here, Victoria." "I have a good class," she replied, bowing her head slightly. "They''re hard workers and deserve most of the credit." "Well, a good class can only get so far without a good teacher," the professor countered. "You''ve all done magnificently. I wish you the best as you continue to progress." He turned to Victoria. "Would you care to join us for your formal evaluation?" Victoria nodded and followed the professors away, leaving the students to disperse. Zeke sheathed his practice sword and grabbed a towel from a nearby rack, wiping sweat from his face. Even in the frigid air, the intense workout had left him drenched. "Nice form today, Godfrey," commented a fellow student, a tall boy from House Byron. "You''ve improved a lot since fall." "Thanks," Zeke replied, surprised by the compliment. "Just trying to keep up with everyone else." "Keep that up and you''ll be leading the class by spring," the boy said before heading toward the changing rooms. Zeke grinned to himself. Small victories. When he''d first arrived at Leoncrest, most students had barely acknowledged his existence, let alone offered praise. Things were changing, slowly but surely. After changing into dry clothes, he headed straight for Tower 8. Professor Harold was expecting him for advanced aura training, and Zeke didn''t want to be late. His next Trial loomed just days away. At Professor Harold''s classroom, he knocked three times and waited. The door swung open to reveal the professor standing there, his usual welcoming smile replaced by a worried frown. "Please, come inside," Professor Harold said, his tone oddly tense. Zeke stepped into the familiar room with its shelves of unusual objects and training materials. Something felt off. The professor''s normally organized desk was cluttered with papers, and a half-eaten meal sat forgotten on a side table. "Is everything alright?" Zeke asked, settling into his usual chair. Professor Harold closed the door carefully and took his seat, fingers drumming nervously on the desk. "Well, as you know, we''re only a few days from your Third Trial," he began, then hesitated. "Perhaps... I don''t know what I should... There was an incident, just a few weeks ago, out in the forest." Zeke kept his expression neutral, though his heart quickened. Did Harold know about the cult meeting he''d witnessed? "Really?" he asked, feigning ignorance. "What sort of incident?" The professor seemed too agitated to notice Zeke''s reaction. "The sort of incident involving the very thing the curfews were put in place to prevent. One of your classmates ¨C I won''t say which one ¨C was found in the woods in the early morning, unconscious, dressed in ceremonial robes." Diocletian, Zeke thought immediately, remembering the sling stone he''d used to knock the boy out. "I''ve been informed to say nothing to anyone," Harold continued, "but we are allies. It''s my duty to keep you safe, and I fear you were the target of whatever ill deed was being planned out there." Zeke held up a hand. "You''ll have to take it back a few steps. Something was being planned?" "Probably." Professor Harold bit his lip. "There''s much I don''t know. What I do know is that the student was found dressed in robes of one of the ancient cults. That narrows it down to something like twenty, which isn''t enough information to go on, so I won''t speculate. What I do know is that when cultists meet, it''s not usually for marshmallows and hot chocolate." Despite the seriousness of the situation, Zeke had to suppress a smile at the image. "Unless they''re planning a sacrifice for one of their various gods," Harold continued, "the purpose is always to advance the cult''s interests. I''ve studied them extensively, so I can speak with some authority." "And you think they were meeting about... me?" Zeke asked, playing the role of the confused student. "I mean, I know the Senate wants me gone, but a cult? Why would they want me dead?" "I imagine for the same reason they might have tricked your brother into encountering Socrax," Harold replied gravely. "I assume you''ve figured out by now that the ambush was no accident." "I''ve suspected as much," Zeke admitted. This part wasn''t an act ¨C he had indeed wondered if Artax''s fateful meeting with the dragon had been arranged. "But it doesn''t make sense. The only reason to eliminate House Godfrey is to gain our wealth, right?" "The Godfreys possess immense wealth, yes, but so do other noble houses. The Senate smells blood in the water, so they go after you." Professor Harold''s fingers continued their nervous drumming. "A cult? Most have enough power to rob entire warehouses blind. Money isn''t their concern." He leaned forward. "Here''s what I suspect. The incident took place when I was away, visiting my home estate. As it turned out, dozens of other professors were also called away. The timing seems concerning. Suddenly, the Academy had thirty fewer pairs of eyes? Perfect conditions for activities normally impossible." "That is suspicious," Zeke agreed, thinking back to his own observations during that period. "Another thing," Professor Harold continued. "Every noble house is known for something. House Levayne for their studies and intellect. House Hobbson for our court strength and alliance with the Emperor. House Godfrey, though, is known for warriors. Not average warriors, but the legendary kind. A single House Godfrey knight can put a hundred others to shame." He lowered his voice. "If you were a cult planning something terrible, House Godfrey is exactly the house you''d want neutralized well in advance." "I see," Zeke murmured, the pieces falling into place. "If that''s the case..." "Then darker plans are afoot," Harold finished grimly. "I can only imagine there might be an attempt on your life during your Third Trial. I don''t know what form it will take, or if it will happen at all, but I want you prepared." "What does that mean?" Zeke asked, determination replacing concern. If someone was planning to attack him during the Trial, he''d be ready. "It means for the next five days, I want to extend our training sessions," Harold replied. "After you pass the Third Trial, I honestly don''t think you''ll need them anymore. Aura is one of those things that once learned is never lost, so I''m not worried about you relapsing. And I imagine you could use a break from your current regimen. Give me five more days to ensure you''re ready for anything they might throw at you." Zeke nodded without hesitation. "Let''s do it." "We''ll begin with our ordinary warm-up," Professor Harold said, reaching for a cup of the black liquid he used for aura exercises. "You know what to do." A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Touching the cup briefly, Zeke transferred a portion of his aura into the metal-infused liquid. Within seconds, the substance pulled together into a small figure that hopped onto the desk. Though not as detailed as Professor Harold''s creations, it was vastly improved from Zeke''s early attempts. The figure walked across the desk, bowed to the professor, then climbed back into its cup. "Very good," Harold nodded approvingly. "Now, try the same with ordinary water." He placed a glass of clear water before Zeke. "It won''t be as easy without the metal particles, but I believe you can do it." Zeke touched the glass, focusing his aura with intense concentration. The water was more resistant, but he managed to form a wobbly humanoid figure that climbed out and waved at Professor Harold. "Perfect," the professor said. "And now for the real challenge." He bent down with a grunt, lifting a large basting pan filled with red-dyed water. Setting it on the desk, he looked at Zeke expectantly. "What is this?" Zeke asked, though he had a sinking feeling he knew the answer. "This is the hardest aura training exercise I''ve yet devised," Harold replied. "If you can master this, you''ll handle anything they throw at you. Observe." The professor turned to his own glass of water, forming a miniature version of Zeke complete with tiny sword. The figure pranced around the desk, showing off its swordsmanship. "You don''t have to show off quite so much," Zeke said with a laugh. "Just making a point," Harold chuckled, then directed the water-Zeke to leap into the pan of red liquid. The figure maintained its shape underwater for several seconds, swimming across the pan. Halfway across, however, red dye began seeping into it. By the time it reached the far side, the once-clear figure had turned completely red before dissolving back into the pan. "Even maintaining form is nearly impossible," Harold explained. "The goal is to cross without absorbing any of the surrounding dye. As you saw, I haven''t mastered it myself. For now, just try placing your figure in the liquid and holding it together." Zeke nodded, directing his water figure toward the pan. It climbed up the side and flopped in¡ªimmediately dissolving on contact with the red water. "Try again," Harold said, pushing forward another glass of water. Determined not to fail, Zeke created a second figure, focusing intensely on making it more solid than the first. Instead of jumping in completely, he had it reach one arm into the water. The arm promptly dissolved and fell off. "One more time," Zeke muttered to himself, forming a new arm on his creation. This time, he concentrated every ounce of his will on maintaining the arm''s integrity as it touched the red water. For a split second, the arm remained intact before disintegrating, sending ripples across the pan as the entire figure collapsed. "Progress," Harold observed, grabbing towels to mop up the splash. "Just keep at it." For the next two hours, Zeke pushed himself to the limit. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the mental exertion, but he refused to give up. If someone was planning to attack him during the Trial, this training might save his life. By the end of the session, his water figure could jump into the pan and walk several inches underwater before dissolving. Though it still turned red almost immediately upon contact, the ability to maintain form was significant progress. "Very good," Professor Harold said as they concluded for the night. "You''re advancing faster than I expected. We''ll continue tomorrow, then give you a day of rest before the Trial." Zeke shook the professor''s hand, muscles aching from aura exertion but spirits high. "Thank you for the warning and the extra training." "Just be careful," Harold cautioned. "Trust no one unfamiliar on the day of your Trial." The castle halls were quiet as Zeke made his way back to his dormitory. Curfew approached, but he had just enough time to return without needing a pass. As he walked, he contemplated Professor Harold''s warning. He''d missed the Strategy Circle meeting he''d been looking forward to, but that was a small price to pay for potentially life-saving training. The board games would still be there next week¡ªassuming he survived his Trial. "Zeke!" a voice called from behind him. He turned to see Elise hurrying to catch up, several books clutched to her chest. "Late night studying?" he asked as she fell in step beside him. "Research," she corrected. "Victoria mentioned you discovered a game club, so I''ve been looking into Leoncrest''s gaming history. Did you know they held the first Strategy Tournament over two hundred years ago?" "I didn''t," Zeke admitted. "I was supposed to go tonight, but Professor Harold needed me for extra training." "That''s too bad," Elise said. "I was hoping to hear all about it." "Next week," Zeke promised. "After the Trial." "Are you ready?" she asked, her expression growing serious. "Getting there," he replied. "Professor Harold''s been pushing me hard." They reached the junction where their paths would separate¡ªElise to the female dormitories, Zeke to the male. "Be careful with your Trial," Elise said suddenly. "I''ve been hearing rumors." Zeke stopped. "What kind of rumors?" She glanced around to ensure they were alone. "Just whispers, really. Some of the older students saying the Aura Labyrinth is different this year. More dangerous." "Different how?" "No one knows exactly. Victoria mentioned something about new elements being added, but she wouldn''t elaborate." Elise bit her lip. "Just... watch yourself in there, okay?" "I will," Zeke assured her. "And thanks for the warning." They parted ways, and Zeke continued to his room, Professor Harold''s concerns now reinforced by Elise''s information. Something was definitely off about this Trial. Ralph was already in bed when Zeke entered their dormitory, though not yet asleep. "There you are," his roommate said, setting aside a book. "Thought the gargoyles got you." "Not yet," Zeke replied, dropping onto his own bed. "Just extra training with Professor Harold." "You look exhausted," Ralph observed. "Pushing yourself too hard before the big day isn''t smart, you know." "Better tired than dead," Zeke muttered, then caught himself. "I mean, better prepared than not." Ralph sat up. "Do you know something I don''t?" Zeke considered his options. He''d promised Harold to keep their conversation private, but Ralph was his roommate and might notice something suspicious. "Just being cautious," he said finally. "These Trials aren''t exactly known for being safe." "True enough," Ralph conceded. "But you''ve got this. You''re Artax''s brother, after all." "That''s the problem," Zeke said quietly. "Everyone expects me to be just like him." "So? Be better," Ralph said with a shrug. "Show them what Zeke de''Godfrey can do." The simple encouragement lifted Zeke''s spirits. "You know what? You''re right. Thanks, Ralph." "Don''t mention it," Ralph replied, returning to his book. "Just promise me one thing¡ªwhen you''re a famous knight and I''m a struggling craftsman, remember who gave you all the good advice." Zeke laughed. "I''ll have a statue made in your honor." As he prepared for bed, Zeke''s mind cycled through everything he''d learned. Professor Harold''s warning about cultists, Elise''s rumors of a changed Labyrinth, his own encounter with the owl-headed fire ¨C all pointing to danger ahead. But danger had followed him since arriving at Leoncrest. The knife in the woods, Diocletian''s challenges, the impossible expectations ¨C he''d survived them all. The Third Trial would be no different. Whatever waited in the Aura Labyrinth, he''d face it head-on. The next morning arrived too soon, sunlight streaming through the dormitory window. Zeke groaned and rubbed his eyes, body still aching from yesterday''s extended training. "Rise and shine, future champion," Ralph called cheerfully, already dressed and ready. "Big day ahead!" "Every day''s a big day here," Zeke muttered, dragging himself upright. Despite his exhaustion, he grinned. "But today might be bigger than most." After a quick breakfast, Zeke headed to Victoria''s morning training session, where she worked them harder than ever. "The Labyrinth tests more than just aura control," she explained as they practiced. "It tests endurance, focus, and will. If your mind wanders for even a moment, the walls will sense it." "Sounds cheerful," one student muttered. "It''s not meant to be cheerful," Victoria replied sharply. "It''s meant to ensure you''re ready for real combat situations. When a dragon is breathing fire at you, a momentary lapse in concentration means death." Her words struck Zeke as particularly meaningful given what had happened to Artax. Had his brother''s concentration faltered in that critical moment? "Again!" Victoria called, and they resumed their exercises. By midday, Zeke was ready for his second session with Professor Harold. This time, they focused exclusively on the red water challenge. "Remember," Harold instructed, "the key is to create a boundary between your aura and the surrounding liquid. Imagine an invisible skin holding your creation together." Zeke nodded, focusing intensely. His water figure stepped to the edge of the pan, then slowly descended into the red liquid. This time, it remained intact for nearly ten seconds before beginning to dissolve, and managed to walk halfway across the pan. "Excellent progress," Harold beamed. "Now, let''s try something different." For the remainder of the session, they worked on variations of the exercise ¨C having the figure swim rather than walk, creating multiple figures simultaneously, and even attempting to manipulate objects underwater. By the end, Zeke could maintain his water figure for almost twenty seconds in the red liquid ¨C still not enough to cross without becoming stained, but significantly better than yesterday. "One more session tomorrow, then rest," Professor Harold said as they finished. "You''re nearly ready." As Zeke left the classroom, he felt a strange mix of confidence and apprehension. His skills were improving rapidly, but would it be enough? And what exactly was he preparing for? The corridors seemed unusually quiet as he made his way back to his dormitory. Most students were attending afternoon classes, but Zeke had been excused to focus on Trial preparation. As he rounded a corner near the main hall, he spotted a familiar figure ¨C Diocletian, engaged in hushed conversation with another student Zeke didn''t recognize. They fell silent as he approached, both turning to watch him pass. "Problem, Godfrey?" Diocletian called, his tone falsely casual. "Not at all," Zeke replied evenly, continuing past without slowing. "Nice welt, by the way. Walked into a door?" Diocletian''s hand instinctively went to the back of his head, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Accidents happen. Sometimes they happen more than once." The threat wasn''t subtle, but Zeke merely smiled. "Looking forward to seeing you at the Trial. I hear they allow spectators." He continued on his way, resisting the urge to look back. The encounter confirmed his suspicions ¨C whatever was planned for the Trial, Diocletian was involved. That evening, instead of returning directly to his room, Zeke made a detour to the library. If danger awaited in the Labyrinth, he wanted to learn everything he could about it beforehand. Adrian was reorganizing a shelf of ancient scrolls when Zeke entered. The old librarian looked up with a smile that faded when he saw Zeke''s expression. "Let me guess," Adrian said. "Researching the Aura Labyrinth?" "How did you know?" Zeke asked, surprised. "Everyone does before their Trial," Adrian replied, setting aside his work. "What specifically are you looking for?" "Anything unusual," Zeke said. "Changes to the standard setup, potential hazards, that sort of thing." Adrian studied him thoughtfully. "Has someone warned you about the Labyrinth?" "Should they have?" Zeke countered. After a moment''s consideration, Adrian gestured for Zeke to follow him to a secluded corner of the library. From a locked cabinet, he withdrew a thin, leather-bound volume. "This is the original architect''s guide to the Labyrinth," he explained, carefully opening it to reveal intricate diagrams. "Few students ever see this." The pages showed complex patterns of walls and corridors, with notations in a script Zeke couldn''t read. "The Labyrinth was designed as more than a test," Adrian continued. "It''s a living thing, in its way. It reads the person navigating it, adapting to their strengths and weaknesses." "So no two experiences are identical?" Zeke asked, studying the diagrams. "Correct. But there are constants," Adrian pointed to various symbols in the book. "These represent standard features ¨C the entrance, the central chamber, the exit. What changes is the path between them." He turned to a new page showing what appeared to be a cross-section of the Labyrinth. "The walls are infused with concentrated aura from thousands of previous students. Touch them, and your own aura will be... disrupted." "Disrupted how?" "It varies. Some describe pain, others disorientation. A few have reported hallucinations." Adrian closed the book carefully. "What concerns me is that you''re asking about changes to the Labyrinth." Zeke hesitated, then decided to trust the librarian. "I''ve heard rumors that this year''s Labyrinth is different. More dangerous." Adrian''s expression grew grave. "I''ve heard similar whispers. The Headmistress ordered modifications last month, though their nature wasn''t disclosed to staff." "Any guesses?" "None I care to share without evidence," Adrian replied. "But Zeke, if you feel the Trial has been compromised, you can request postponement. It''s your right as a student." "And give everyone the satisfaction of seeing me back down?" Zeke shook his head. "Not a chance." Adrian sighed. "I expected as much. In that case, remember this ¨C the Labyrinth responds to certainty. Doubt yourself, and it will use that against you." "Thank you," Zeke said, genuinely grateful for the advice. "I won''t forget." [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning [Active Quests:] [Trials and Tribulations: Prepare for Trial Three] [Unseen Threat: Be vigilant during the Trial] 41. The Third Trial [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 1] [Date: January 25, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] Zeke woke before dawn on the day of his Third Trial, his eyes snapping open to the darkness. No need for extra sleep today ¨C his body knew what was coming. He stretched and rolled out of bed, feeling surprisingly good. Taking Professor Harold''s advice to rest the previous evening had paid off; his mind felt sharp and his muscles ready. "Today''s the day," he told himself, splashing cold water on his face. After days of intense training, he''d finally mastered getting a water figure across the red pan without changing color. It wasn''t pretty, but it worked. Whatever waited in the Trial, he was ready. Probably. Unless someone tried to kill him. That was always a possibility at Leoncrest. "Hey, this is the big day, right?" Ralph''s voice came from across the room as his roommate popped up from under his blankets, hair sticking out in all directions. "This is gonna be awesome. Can I come watch?" "Sure, knock yourself out," Zeke replied, strapping on his belt. "Everyone else is coming too." He pulled his Trial invitation from his desk drawer, confirming the time and location. The Dueling Arena again, but not for several hours. Plenty of time for last-minute preparation. "Let''s get some breakfast," he said, heading for the door. Halfway down the tower stairs, they encountered Elise climbing up to meet them. "There you are!" she called, turning to join their descent. "Ready for today?" "Born ready," Zeke said with more confidence than he felt. But showing doubt wouldn''t help. "After today, my schedule gets a whole lot easier ¨C either I pass and drop the extra training, or I fail and spend the rest of my life as a wandering vagabond. Either way, more free time!" "Oh, it won''t be that bad," Elise laughed, then paused. "Would it? If you failed?" "Pretty much," Zeke said with a shrug, keeping his tone light despite the gravity of the situation. "But hey, I''ve always wanted to see the world. Silver linings." The dining hall was nearly empty at this early hour, but Victoria was already there, a plate of food waiting at her usual table. "Sit," she commanded as Zeke approached. "Eat. You''ll need energy." "You''re not going to let anything slip past you, are you?" Zeke asked, taking the seat. "Not when it comes to my students succeeding," Victoria replied matter-of-factly. "I''ve researched past Third Trials extensively. Once we''re in the arena, you''ll have time to assess the challenge before beginning." "Any hints about what I might face?" Zeke asked between bites. "Each Trial is tailored to the candidate," she said, shaking her head. "I can tell you it will test your aura control in ways you haven''t imagined." "Like Professor Harold''s red water challenge?" Ralph asked through a mouthful of bread. Victoria''s eyes narrowed. "What red water challenge?" "Just some extra training," Zeke said quickly. "Nothing important." "If Professor Harold designed it, it''s important," Victoria insisted. "What did it involve?" Zeke briefly explained the exercise with the water figures and red dye, watching Victoria''s expression shift from curiosity to understanding. "Clever," she murmured. "He''s preparing you for aura separation techniques. That could be very useful today." "Is that allowed?" Elise asked. "Getting special training for a specific Trial?" "There are no rules against it," Victoria replied. "Every advantage counts in these Trials." When they finished eating, a larger group had gathered ¨C Ingrid had joined them, along with several other students curious about the day''s events. "We should head over," Victoria announced, checking the time. "Better to be early than rushed." The walk to the Dueling Arena took them across the main courtyard, where morning frost still clung to the stones. Students called out encouragement as Zeke passed, many planning to watch the Trial instead of attending morning classes. "Looks like you''ve got fans now," Ralph observed. "Remember us little people when you''re famous." "Hard to forget someone with your spectacular bedhead," Zeke shot back, grinning. The Dueling Arena was mostly empty when they arrived, just a handful of professors making preparations. In the exact center stood a small pedestal with what appeared to be a ball resting on top. Headmistress Florence and Adrian were already present, deep in conversation. "Ah, you''re here!" they both exclaimed simultaneously, then glared at each other before turning back to Zeke. "Right on time," the Headmistress said, regaining her composure. "Would you like to examine the challenge?" She gestured toward a small gate in the arena barrier. Zeke nodded, leaving his friends behind as he followed her onto the floor. As he approached the pedestal, the nature of the "ball" became clear ¨C it was an intricate sphere of metal wire, thin as silver thread, knotted into an impossibly complex tangle. "This ball contains almost four miles of thread," Headmistress Florence announced, unable to hide the pride in her voice. "Your task is to unravel it completely using only your aura. You may touch it initially to infuse your aura, but after that, your hands must not interfere." "Interesting," Zeke said, circling the sphere. "Four miles, huh? And how long do I have?" "Six hours," she replied with a small, satisfied smile. Zeke kept his face neutral, though his mind raced. From what Victoria had said, the standard was three miles and twelve hours. They''d doubled the thread and halved the time. Someone definitely wanted him to fail. "Meh," he said with a casual shrug. "If I can handle Professor Harold''s training, I can handle this." The Headmistress visibly twitched at his nonchalance. Zeke turned and walked back to his friends, keeping his concerns hidden behind a confident smile. "Well?" Elise asked anxiously. "How bad is it?" "It''s a challenge," Zeke admitted in a low voice. "I need to unravel four miles of thread in six hours using only my aura." "Four miles?" Victoria hissed, eyes widening. "The standard is three! And your brother had twelve hours, not six!" "Then I guess I''ll just have to work twice as fast," Zeke said, rubbing his hands together. "Nothing like a good challenge to get the blood pumping." "This isn''t fair," Elise protested. "Life rarely is," Ingrid said, speaking for the first time. "But I''ve seen you train, Zeke. If anyone can do this, you can." Over the next hour, the arena filled with spectators ¨C students eager to see the infamous Zeke de''Godfrey face his Third Trial, professors evaluating his performance, perhaps even some hoping to see him fail. Zeke spotted Professor Harold slipping into a seat high in the stands, their eyes meeting briefly in acknowledgment. "Look," Ralph whispered, nudging Zeke. "Diocletian''s here with his crew." Sure enough, Diocletian and several other students from rival houses had taken seats with a clear view of the arena floor, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and disdain. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. "Good," Zeke said. "Let them watch. It''ll be a better show than they''re expecting." When the appointed time arrived, Zeke mounted the steps and entered the arena alone. Adrian and Professor Harold joined the Headmistress at the edge of the floor, though they maintained their distance from one another. "Welcome, everyone, to the Third Trial of Zeke de''Godfrey!" Headmistress Florence called out, her voice echoing through the space. "In this Trial, Zeke will have exactly six hours to unravel four miles of thread!" Murmurs rippled through the crowd ¨C even those unfamiliar with the standard parameters knew this was exceptional. "Zeke de''Godfrey? Are you ready?" the Headmistress asked, turning to him. Zeke took a deep breath, centering himself. "Ready as I''ll ever be." "Good," she nodded curtly. "Then... begin!" Zeke approached the tangle of wire with measured steps. Following his training, he touched the sphere, transferring a substantial amount of aura into the metal. Then he stepped back and sat cross-legged on the floor, closing his eyes. "Could someone get him a chair?" Adrian called from the sidelines. Footsteps scurried away, but Zeke barely noticed. His aura spread throughout the ball, tracing each strand, feeling every twist and knot. The complexity was overwhelming at first ¨C thousands of intersecting threads all competing for his attention. But rather than panic, he breathed deeply, allowing his mind to settle. "That isn''t going to help anything," he muttered to himself. "First..." First, he needed to check for traps. Professor Harold''s warning about an attempt on his life seemed increasingly plausible. He sent his aura pulsing through the tangle, searching for anything unusual. He found one thread end on the outer edge of the ball, just waiting to be pulled. Following the maze of knots and loops, he tracked the thread to its other end. There, at the center of the tangle, his aura detected something ¨C a small metal sphere embedded within the wire. It radiated magical energy, though Zeke couldn''t identify its purpose. Was it explosive? Fire? Lightning? Poison? There was no way to know without triggering it. Someone placed a chair behind him, but Zeke remained focused on the wire ball. He had to proceed carefully. He grasped the outer thread end with his aura and began unwinding it, working it back through the many loops. Progress was painfully slow ¨C at this rate, he''d never finish within six hours. Then an idea struck him. His aura infused the entire sphere ¨C why not move everything simultaneously? Concentrating intensely, he visualized the entire ball unwinding at once. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, the threads began to move. Not one at a time, but all together, the entire structure shifting and expanding as the wires separated. Gasps rose from the audience as the sphere began to grow, the tightly wound threads spreading outward. Zeke''s mind strained to maintain control of so many elements at once. Pain shot through his temples, his arms burning though they weren''t physically engaged. The days of intense training with Professor Harold had pushed his limits, but this was another level entirely. "No!" he shouted, his face contorted with effort. "I can''t lose focus now! Ahhh!" The sphere continued expanding, filling more and more of the arena as the wires untangled themselves. Sweat poured down Zeke''s face, his entire body trembling with the mental strain. His aura flickered visibly around him, a rare phenomenon that occurred only under extreme duress. In the stands, his friends watched with a mixture of awe and concern. "Is he supposed to be glowing like that?" Ralph whispered to Victoria. "No," she replied tensely. "He''s pushing way beyond safe limits." Just when it seemed Zeke might collapse from the effort, the sphere stopped expanding. The last knots unraveled, leaving a massive network of straight wires spanning the entire arena, with Zeke at its center. He opened his eyes, blinking in disbelief at what he''d created. With a final effort, he recalled his aura, causing the wires to fall limply to the floor around him. "Well," he said, attempting to stand but finding his legs unsteady. "I think that just about does it." Headmistress Florence stood frozen, her expression caught between amazement and fury. "How..." Zeke managed, his voice hoarse. "How long did it take me? Did I do it in time?" Adrian approached, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. "You did it in ten minutes. That sets a record by almost eight hours, I''d guess." "H-how?" Headmistress Florence stammered, finding her voice. "I''ve never seen... There are professors here who couldn''t do that!" "In all due fairness, they don''t have the motivation I do," Zeke replied, finally managing to stand. "Also, I should probably mention there''s a little ball at the center of all this. Has some sort of enchantment on it." The audience began filing out, many still discussing what they''d witnessed in awed tones. Zeke''s friends remained, cheering from the sidelines. At his mention of the ball, Adrian frowned and approached the center of the fallen wires, followed by Professor Harold and the Headmistress. "A little ball?" Headmistress Florence scoffed, though her eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?" "Here," Adrian said, bending to retrieve a small metal sphere from among the wires. He turned it over in his fingers. "I have a reasonably high analysis skill. Let me see..." His expression changed suddenly. "It''s time-delayed, set to go off in about an hour. I believe it''s an Aura Pulse." "What? Give me that," the Headmistress demanded, snatching it from his hands. She examined it briefly before her face paled. "That... that would have killed him." "Instantly," Adrian agreed grimly. "If he had taken the normal amount of time, it wouldn''t have been a matter of strength or skill." "Who assembled this?" Headmistress Florence demanded, voice rising. "I don''t know," Adrian replied, visibly confused. "I was told you were handling it. I have a letter you sent to prove it." "What? I never sent any letters on the subject! You sent me a letter asking if you could be one of the moderators!" "No," Adrian shook his head firmly. "I would never have asked for such a privilege. Conflict of interest." "I received a letter from you as well," Professor Harold interjected. "Stating you would be providing the challenge materials." "Let me see these letters immediately!" the Headmistress demanded. As the three argued over how they had been manipulated, Zeke made his way to the edge of the arena where his friends waited. Ralph pumped his hand enthusiastically, Elise beamed with pride, and Victoria clapped him firmly on the back. Even Ingrid offered a small nod of approval. "Dude, you should have seen it from out here!" Ralph exclaimed as they walked toward the exit. "When that thing started growing ¨C I''ve never seen anything like it! And the look on Headmistress Florence''s face was priceless!" "How did you do it?" Elise asked, walking beside him. "Moving everything at once like that ¨C I could use those techniques in my own magic." "I just sort of... imagined it all moving together," Zeke explained, still surprised it had worked. "Like how your hand knows to move all five fingers without thinking about each one separately." "I''m just glad it''s over," Victoria said. "And that you made it through without dying, which is always a bonus." "Always appreciate the little things," Zeke agreed with a weary smile. "I''ll answer all your questions, but first, I need to lie down for a bit." By mid-afternoon, word of Zeke''s extraordinary performance had spread throughout the Academy. Students stopped him in the hallways to congratulate him or ask questions. Even some who had previously ignored him now seemed eager to make his acquaintance. After a much-needed rest in his room, Zeke found himself surrounded by friends in the common area. The exhaustion had mostly faded, though using his aura so intensely had left a lingering soreness, like muscles the day after hard training. "So what happens now?" Ralph asked, lounging across an armchair. "No more extra training, right?" "That''s the plan," Zeke confirmed. "Professor Harold said I''ve mastered the basics of aura manipulation. The next Trial isn''t for months, so I can focus on regular classes for a while." "And the Strategy Circle," Elise added. "You promised to go next week, remember?" "Wouldn''t miss it," Zeke assured her. "I''ve been looking forward to it since the last meeting." A commotion at the common room entrance drew their attention. Victoria entered, her expression unusually serious. She made her way directly to their group. "The professors are looking for you," she told Zeke. "They''ve been comparing those letters. Turns out they were all forgeries." "Any idea who sent them?" Zeke asked. Victoria shook her head. "Not yet. But they''re taking it seriously ¨C trying to murder a student during a Trial isn''t something they can ignore." "Have they identified the device?" Ingrid asked. "An Aura Disruptor," Victoria confirmed. "Rare and extremely deadly. When triggered, it releases a pulse that shatters the aura core of anyone within range. Death is... not quick." A heavy silence fell over the group. "Well," Zeke said finally, "guess I picked a good day to show off." "This isn''t a joke, Zeke," Victoria snapped. "Someone went to extraordinary lengths to kill you. And they''ll likely try again." "I know," Zeke replied, his smile fading. "But what can I do besides stay alert and keep training? I can''t exactly hide in my room until graduation." "Actually," a new voice interjected, "that might not be the worst idea, at least temporarily." They turned to find Professor Harold standing in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically grim. "Professor," Zeke greeted him. "Come to congratulate me on passing your training test with flying colors?" "Among other things," Harold replied, entering the room. "May I have a word in private?" Zeke nodded, following the professor to a quiet corner away from the others. "First, remarkable performance today," Harold began. "I knew you had potential, but what you accomplished exceeded all expectations." "Thanks to your training," Zeke acknowledged. "That red water exercise was perfect preparation." "Nevertheless, the execution was all yours," Harold insisted. "But that''s not why I''m here. The investigation into the sabotaged Trial has revealed... concerning information." "What kind of information?" Harold glanced around to ensure they weren''t overheard. "The forgeries weren''t amateurish. They used official Academy seals and paper, with handwriting nearly identical to the supposed authors. Few people have access to such materials." "Someone inside the Academy administration," Zeke guessed. "It appears so," Harold confirmed. "Which means this conspiracy reaches higher than we initially suspected. The Headmistress is furious ¨C both at the attempt on a student''s life and at being manipulated so easily." "What does this mean for me?" Zeke asked. "It means you need to be extraordinarily careful," Harold warned. "Until we identify the culprits, trust no one without absolute certainty of their loyalty. And perhaps consider keeping your true capabilities hidden. Your demonstration today was impressive, but it also showed potential enemies exactly what you''re capable of." Zeke nodded slowly. "So act weaker than I am?" "Precisely. Let them underestimate you next time." "Assuming there is a next time," Zeke said. "Oh, there will be," Harold assured him grimly. "Whoever orchestrated this won''t give up after one failure." As Professor Harold departed, Zeke rejoined his friends, his mind churning with possibilities. The level of planning required to manipulate three senior Academy members, create convincing forgeries, and obtain a deadly magical device pointed to resources far beyond what he''d imagined. This wasn''t just about passing Trials anymore. This was about survival. "Everything okay?" Elise asked, noting his expression. Zeke forced a smile. "Sure. Just thinking about how I''m going to spend all my new free time." As his friends launched into suggestions ¨C visiting the Strategy Circle, exploring the Academy grounds, even sneaking into the village outside Leoncrest''s walls ¨C Zeke nodded along, keeping Harold''s warning at the forefront of his mind. Someone powerful wanted him dead. His unexpected success today had bought him time, but the next attempt might come from any direction. He needed to be ready. But for tonight, at least, he would celebrate with his friends. He''d earned that much. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning [Active Quests:] [To the Victor: Celebrate your win] [Hidden Enemies: Identify who tried to sabotage your Trial] 42. Investigative Notions [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 12] [Date: January 27, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] The days following Zeke'' completing the Third Trial were busy. His reputation started spreading and suddenly everyone wanted some of his time. Students who''d previously ignored him now greeted him in hallways. Professors who''d barely acknowledged his existence now nodded respectfully when he entered their classrooms. "De''Godfrey! Hey, de''Godfrey!" A group of first-years flagged him down as he crossed the main courtyard. "Is it true you unraveled four miles of wire in ten minutes?" "Well, I didn''t count the minutes myself," Zeke replied with a grin, "but that''s what they tell me." "How''d you do it?" one asked, eyes wide with admiration. "Practice," Zeke said simply. "And maybe a little motivation from whoever planted that explosive." He continued on his way, leaving them buzzing with excitement. The attention was strange¡ªnot unwelcome exactly, but definitely unfamiliar. Back home, he''d always been "Artax''s little brother." Here, for the first time, people were seeing him for his own accomplishments. During lunch that day, three different upperclassmen invited him to join their training groups. Two noble students tried to casually mention how their families had "always respected House Godfrey" (a blatant lie in at least one case). Even Diocletian seemed to be avoiding direct confrontation, settling for glaring from across rooms. Ralph was loving every minute of it. "You''re practically a celebrity now," he declared as they left the dining hall. "And that makes me a celebrity''s roommate, which is almost as good." Zeke laughed. "Enjoy it while it lasts. They''ll find something new to talk about soon enough." "Maybe," Ralph conceded, "but you''ve definitely changed how people see you. Nobody thinks you''re just some lucky punk anymore." Zeke knew Ralph was right. The barriers were breaking down. He was no longer seen as just the wimpy kid who had barged his way into the academy. That said, he could tell that most people approaching him were just angling for power. They saw him as someone who could wield influence, and wanted to attach themselves to his rising star. He didn''t confirm or deny anyone''s hopes, instead navigating the sudden attention with a friendly but noncommittal attitude. Let them wonder. It was safer that way, especially with someone still trying to kill him. By the third day, the frenzy had begun to die down, and Zeke found himself re-entering a more normal routine. As he finished up his Swordsmanship class, he strode back into the main Academy building and paused, realizing he now had a giant, gaping hole in the middle of his day where his extra Aura training had been. Professor Harold had declared his specialized training complete¡ªat least until they identified whoever had tried to poison him. "No point teaching you more tricks if someone''s just going to stab you in your sleep," he''d said bluntly. Zeke rolled his shoulders, enjoying the rare feeling of having nowhere urgent to be. "Now what?" he muttered to himself. His freedom was short-lived. There was still one matter he needed to address. He desperately wanted to go in any direction other than the one he chose, but he still made himself climb the long stairs to the office of Headmistress Florence. Outside her door, he paused for a long moment before knocking and slowly stepping inside. "De''Godfrey," she nodded as he walked in. "I was hoping you would come up. Please, take a seat." It was the most cordial she had ever spoken to him. Zeke blinked in surprise, then quickly walked over and sat down. She folded her hands and pushed aside whatever she had been working on. "I can only assume you have questions regarding the attempt on your life." "Many," Zeke nodded. "I''ve not really wanted to bother you, but¡ª" "No, no, you''re good," the Headmistress sighed. "It''s no secret that I don''t want you here. There are many reasons for that fact, and I won''t mince words about it. Our houses are at odds with one another, and I am under great pressure to make you fail. That said, I do not wish you dead. When I took this office, I took an oath to defend this institution, and I hope you know I will abide by that. You will have nothing easy from me, but neither will you have death." Zeke studied her face, noting the sincerity behind her usual stern expression. He crossed his arms and nodded. It wasn''t exactly what he wanted to hear from her, but it was something he could work with. "Thank you. What have you discovered so far?" "Thankfully, all of us who received the letters are good record-keepers," she replied, taking a folder from her desk drawer. "We retrieved the notes we were sent and compared them. They were all written by the same person, that much is obvious." She spread three letters on her desk¡ªeach on official Academy parchment, each bearing a different signature but clearly written in the same hand. "Professor Sebastian de''Byron, our handwriting expert, examined them," she continued. "He determined that these were written using a specific technique designed to disguise the writer''s hand, making identification much harder. However, Sebastian maintains handwriting samples from everyone at the Academy and is conducting a thorough analysis to determine potential suspects." "How long will that take?" Zeke asked. "Difficult to say. The technique used is quite sophisticated," she replied, tapping one of the letters. "Whoever did this has training¡ªeither in forgery specifically or in intelligence work." "A spy?" Zeke raised his eyebrows. "Perhaps," the Headmistress said, her expression unreadable. "Or simply someone with access to knowledge they shouldn''t have. Either way, we will get to the bottom of it." "Thank you," Zeke nodded. "Any theories on why someone would want me dead?" The Headmistress let out a short, humorless laugh. "If you truly need an answer to that question, you''re just as stupid as everyone thought when you first arrived. There are few people in this realm who wouldn''t benefit from your death. The real question is why they would make a spectacle of it instead of simply stabbing you in the middle of the night." Zeke leaned forward, intrigued. "And do you have an answer to that question?" "I have theories, but no certainties," she replied, closing the folder. "Public failure would humiliate House Godfrey more thoroughly than a private death. Perhaps someone wants to make an example of you. Or perhaps there are political advantages to having your death witnessed during an official Trial." "The Senate," Zeke guessed. "Possibly. Though not all your enemies sit on the Senate," she replied. "I do, however, wish you to know we are working diligently on this matter." Zeke nodded, appreciating her candor despite her opposition to him. "The reason I came here was actually to ask about the next Trial. When can I expect it?" You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. The Headmistress''s expression tightened. "For the time being, the Trials will have to be set aside. If an attempt was made on your life during this Trial, it will certainly come again at the next one. Give us time to catch whoever did this, or at least put some fear into them. Then, once we have done so, we will set a date for the Fourth Trial." Zeke''s eyes narrowed as he sat up straighter. "You know what I think? I think you''re using this as an excuse. You admitted you want to make things harder for me. You want to make the Trials take as long as possible." The barest hint of a smile appeared on Headmistress Florence''s lips. "If that''s the case, I wouldn''t advise complaining about my decision. It will only make me wish to take even longer." "Fair enough," Zeke acknowledged, recognizing the futility of pushing further. He started to rise, then paused. "What is the Trial, if I can ask? So I can start to prepare." Her smile returned, slightly wider this time. They both knew the point of his question¡ªif Zeke knew about the Trial in advance, he would have more time to prepare, and delaying it would only help him get ready. "The mountains visible from the Academy''s east tower? They''re known as the Mountains of Bones. The tallest peak, Dragonpeak, has long been a training ground for students here. You will be draped with chains and must run a predetermined route within a certain time limit." Zeke raised an eyebrow. "Chains?" "Chains," she confirmed with a nod. "Now, off with you. Our business here is concluded." Zeke thanked her and slipped out of the room, his mind already turning toward the upcoming Trial as he descended the tower stairs. A mountain run with chains? It sounded brutal, but at least now he had time to prepare. Victoria instantly came to mind as someone who could help him train, but he knew she was busy that afternoon with dueling practice. Instead, he found himself wandering toward the library, hoping to find information about Dragonpeak. When he slipped through the heavy oak doors, Elise looked up from a table nearby and waved. "Hey, Zeke! The conquering hero returns!" she called, earning a stern "Shh!" from a nearby student. "Hey," he replied more quietly, sliding into a chair across from her. "What are you working on?" "Just research for my history class," she answered, pushing a leather-bound book across the table. He picked it up and glanced at the cover, finding it was an in-depth analysis of the rise and fall of some obscure noble family he''d never heard of. "House Lorcast?" he read, suddenly remembering the severed head in the Headmistress''s office. "Didn''t they..." "Get completely wiped out over a poisoning attempt? Yes," Elise nodded. "Supposedly there''s a lesson about political maneuvering in there somewhere." Zeke frowned and pushed the book back across the table. "Sounds cheerful." "What brings you down here?" she asked. "I know you don''t have training anymore. Seems like a boring place if you don''t need to be here." "I''m trying to learn about the Mountains of Bones," Zeke explained. "The Fourth Trial will be a run through them wearing chains, and I want to know what I''m up against." "Chains? That sounds awful," Elise grimaced. "I was going to try to find maps, information about the terrain¡ªanything that could help me prepare." "I''m afraid such information is highly restricted," Adrian''s voice came from behind a nearby bookshelf before the elderly librarian emerged, carrying a stack of tomes. "The path changes every time someone attempts it. The entire layout of Dragonpeak is kept secret so we can create the most realistic training scenarios." He walked on without further comment, and Zeke frowned. "Great. Well, I guess I''ll just start general training. Go for runs around the Academy grounds or something." "You should ask Ingrid," Elise suggested. "I think she''s busy this afternoon, but she''s mentioned how being a mercenary often requires traveling through rough terrain. She might have tips for mountain climbing." "Good idea," Zeke nodded, making a mental note to track down Ingrid the next day. "Still doesn''t leave me with anything to do now. What do people normally do with free time around here?" Elise laughed. "There''s a lot you can do if you''re willing. For example, you could study for your classes." "Nah. Sounds boring," Zeke grinned. Then a thought struck him. "Speaking of studying, did you ever learn anything about that prophecy thing? You know, the one Adrian mentioned?" Elise''s eyes went wide, and she glanced over at Adrian, who was busily shelving books about twenty feet away. She gave a small nod, then scribbled something on a scrap of paper and pushed it across the table. "Meet me at my room in two hours. Now let me study!" Zeke rolled his eyes but nodded and stood up. "Thanks for all the help," he said loudly for Adrian''s benefit, then headed out. The two hours passed surprisingly quickly. Ralph convinced him to join a paper football tournament that had spontaneously formed in the mess hall, and Zeke managed to advance to the semifinals before getting knocked out by a fourth-year with suspiciously good aim. "You were robbed," Ralph insisted as they left. "That last shot definitely went wide." "I''ll recover somehow," Zeke laughed. "Listen, I''ve got to meet Elise about something. Want to grab dinner later?" "Can''t," Ralph shook his head. "My aunt wants me to help her inventory some new weapons that arrived for the forge. Probably take all evening." They parted ways, and Zeke made his way to the east wing of the castle where the female students'' dormitories were located. He knocked on Elise''s door, which opened almost immediately. "Get in here," she said, quickly pulling him inside and checking the hallway before shutting the door. Her room was smaller than the one he shared with Ralph, but considerably neater. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books and small magical artifacts. A few potted plants sat on the windowsill, their leaves gently swaying despite the lack of breeze. Elise plopped down on her bed while Zeke sat in her desk chair. "Alright, so here''s what you told me Adrian said," she began, clearing her throat. "''The eight will rise... The ground will quake... The court will... Fly, fly, from death.''" "Right," Zeke confirmed. "Well..." Elise pulled out a notebook and flipped through several pages covered in her neat handwriting. "I found something that I think matches. The wording is slightly different, but that could be a different translation, or just something you misheard." She cleared her throat again. "''The eight will rise from darkened lair, the world trembles everywhere, the Court will speak with foulest breath, if ye still breathe, then fly from death.''" "Yeah, that sounds right," Zeke nodded, a chill running down his spine. "What''s the context?" "It comes from about six hundred years ago," Elise explained, referencing her notes. "The Academy already existed then, and the world wasn''t that different from today, except most noble houses were different." She turned a page in her notebook. "There was this wanderer¡ªa former noble who had renounced his house. Some thought he was crazy, others called him a prophet. What we do know is that he successfully predicted several attacks against the kingdom''s borders and led defenses against them. He united peasants and nobles, convinced the aristocracy to treat commoners better¡ªthat sort of thing." "Do the records say if he was actually a prophet?" Zeke asked. "They don''t make a clear judgment," Elise replied. "But they do state that without his influence, the kingdom would have collapsed multiple times during that period." "And what about these ''eight'' mentioned in the prophecy?" Zeke pressed. "That''s where it gets interesting," Elise said, leaning forward. "At the time, the Eight Dragons of Calamity were starting to wake, causing legions of lesser beasts to become agitated and attack settlements." "Like the dragon that injured Artax," Zeke realized. "Exactly. The records believe this wanderer somehow drove them back, though they don''t specify how. What we do know is that on his deathbed, he related this prophecy. Most scholars interpret it as foretelling another rise of the Eight Dragons, with ''the Court'' referring to some group that will work with the dragons." Zeke crossed his arms, thinking. "So when Adrian mentioned that prophecy, he was suggesting the Dragons are waking again? But Artax already fought one that was awake, so¡ª" "That''s not exactly what it means," Elise interrupted. "Dragons aren''t like normal creatures. Their power ebbs and flows. When they grow stronger, people call it ''waking,'' and when they weaken, it''s called ''sleeping.'' It doesn''t necessarily relate to their actual physical state." "So a ''sleeping'' dragon could still be actively causing trouble?" Zeke asked. "Exactly," Elise nodded. "Just not at full strength." "And if all eight reach full strength at once..." Zeke trailed off, the implications sinking in. "It would be catastrophic," Elise finished. "But the prophecy has been referenced for six hundred years. Every time dragon activity increases, people wonder if it''s happening, then things quiet down again." She closed her notebook. "What I''m saying is, don''t get too worked up about it. Either the prophecy is finally coming true, in which case there''s not much you can do right now except stay on your path, or it''s another false alarm. Someone actively trying to kill you is the more immediate concern." "That''s fair," Zeke acknowledged. "Still, what do you think this ''Court'' is? Could it be connected to whoever tried to sabotage my Trial?" Elise bit her lip. "I found a few references to something called ''The Court of Owls'' in later texts¡ªa secret society that supposedly formed to monitor dragon activity. Some sources suggest they eventually became corrupted, believing the dragons should rule rather than be contained." "A dragon-worshiping cult," Zeke mused. "That would explain the sophistication of the attack. An organized group rather than a single enemy." "But it''s mostly rumor and speculation," Elise cautioned. "There''s no proof this Court still exists, if it ever did." Zeke stood up and paced the small room. "Still, it fits. The forged letters, the enchanted explosive¡ªthat takes resources and planning. And why target me specifically? House Godfrey has a history of fighting dragons." "Including your brother," Elise pointed out. "Who nearly killed one, even at the cost of his aura core." Zeke stopped pacing, a troubling thought forming. "What if Artax wasn''t just unlucky? What if he was deliberately sent to face that dragon, expected to die?" "That''s a big leap," Elise said, though her expression showed she was considering it. "Maybe," Zeke conceded. "But I can''t ignore the possibility that whatever''s happening to me now might be connected to what happened to him." He sat back down, collecting his thoughts. "Thanks for researching this. It gives me something to think about." "Anytime," Elise smiled. "Want to come to board game night tomorrow? A few of us are getting together in the common room." "Count me in," Zeke nodded, grateful for the change to a lighter topic. "I could use some fun after all this doom and gloom." As he reached the door, he paused. "One more thing¡ªany idea who might know more about mountain climbing? I should start preparing for the Trial, even without knowing the exact route." "Try Victoria first," Elise suggested. "Her family''s estate is in the highlands, so she probably grew up climbing. And if she can''t help, I know there''s a Wilderness Club that meets on Tuesdays." "Perfect," Zeke said. "See you tomorrow, then." [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning [Active Quests:] [Window to the Future: Investigate the prophecy] [Mountain Challenge: Prepare for the Chain Run] 43. Games Ahead [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Tower 1] [Date: January 28, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] The very next night was the meeting of the Strategy Circle board game club. After a grueling Swordsmanship class that left him sweaty but satisfied, Zeke headed back to his room to change into fresh clothes. He found Ralph hunched over his desk, quill in hand, staring at a half-written letter with the intensity of someone defusing a bomb. "Heading down to your strategy club?" Ralph asked without looking up. "That''s the plan," Zeke replied, pulling a clean tunic over his head. "What about you? Important correspondence?" "Just trying to invite my sister for the Spring Festival." Ralph sighed dramatically. "It''s a month away, but Father''s already hounding me about it." "I didn''t know you had a sister," Zeke said, surprised. In all their conversations, Ralph had never mentioned siblings. "That''s because she''s annoying and I don''t like her much," Ralph shrugged, scratching out a line on his parchment. "So I don''t talk about her." "Then why invite her?" Zeke asked, buckling his belt. "Because my father says if I don''t make an effort to get along with her, he''s writing us both out of the will." Ralph stabbed his quill into the inkwell with unnecessary force. "He''d do that?" Zeke''s eyebrows shot up. "It''s an Arnette tradition. They don''t want siblings spending decades fighting over inheritance," Ralph explained. "Better to get along now or lose everything. Makes family dinners really interesting." He looked up from his letter. "Got any plans for the Spring Festival yourself?" "Nothing yet," Zeke replied, combing his fingers through his hair. "Don''t know much about it, honestly." "It''s the best one of the year! The breaking of spring ¨C flowers everywhere, dancing, tournaments," Ralph''s eyes lit up. "Plus, the feast is amazing. Last year they had these little pastries filled with¡ª" He caught himself mid-sentence. "Anyway, I should finish this torture document." "Good luck with that," Zeke laughed, heading for the door. "Try not to insult her more than three times per paragraph!" "Don''t mock my pain!" Ralph called after him, but Zeke could hear the smile in his voice. The castle corridors were relatively quiet as Zeke made his way toward Tower 10. His footsteps echoed off the stone walls, and he found himself taking the stairs two at a time, energized by the prospect of an evening free from training and trials. After weeks of constant pressure, the simple joy of playing board games felt like a luxury. When he reached the tower''s base, he found Elise already waiting, a leather satchel slung over her shoulder. "You made it!" she called, waving. "I was starting to think you''d forgotten." "Not a chance," Zeke grinned. "What''s in the bag?" "A surprise," she replied mysteriously as they began climbing the tower stairs. "Something I thought might come in handy." The Strategy Circle''s room was already bustling with activity when they arrived. Groups had formed around various tables, with games in different stages of play. The familiar clatter of dice and excited voices filled the air. Jack spotted them immediately and bounded over, hand extended. "Zeke! I was hoping we''d see you again!" he exclaimed, pumping Zeke''s hand enthusiastically. "Totally get why you couldn''t make it last week. We were all following the news about your Trial." He turned to Elise. "And I see you brought a friend?" "Elise Arvand," she introduced herself with a smile. "Jack de''Minziar," he replied. "Well, I''m glad you both could make it. What are you feeling like playing today?" Jack quickly ran through the explanation of the different tables again ¨C Classic games, War simulations, and Modern strategy games. When he finished, Elise''s eyes lit up as she spotted something on the Classic table. "Is that Towers?" she asked excitedly, pointing to a small stack of game boxes. "I haven''t seen one in years!" "Yeah, we have Towers!" Jack confirmed, retrieving the box. "I''m surprised you know it. Not many people do." "It''s popular in the Sandwatch Province," Elise explained, taking the box almost reverently. "I used to play it when my father took business trips there. Oh, Zeke, could we try this one? It''s really fun!" "Sure," Zeke nodded, curious. "I''m always up for learning something new." "Towers works best with four players," Jack said. "Want me to find you two more opponents?" "The more the merrier," Elise replied. Jack quickly rounded up two more players ¨C a quiet boy from House Levayne and a sharp-eyed girl from House Dracthen. As they settled around the table, Elise unpacked the game and began explaining the rules. "So it''s played on this board," she said, setting out a checkered grid that reminded Zeke of chess. "Everyone starts with one marker in one of the four center squares." Zeke received a stack of black tokens, similar to checkers pieces. Elise had white, the Levayne boy brown, and the Dracthen girl red. They each placed a single token in the center squares. "Good! Now, the game is pretty straightforward," Elise continued. "We take turns placing tokens either on top of another token, creating a tower, or on a new square. The rules are you can''t place directly next to or on top of your own tokens." She demonstrated by placing a white token next to her existing one, then moving it one square over. "Diagonally is fine though." "And how do you win?" Zeke asked, studying the board. "Towers can only go three high. When someone claims the top of a tower, they get two points. The middle position gets one point, and the bottom gets nothing." If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Elise pointed to the score sliders on the board''s edge. "First to twenty points wins!" "Sounds simple enough," Zeke said, though he was already seeing potential complexities. "What happens when a tower reaches three tokens?" "Good question! When a tower hits three, all tokens are removed. Scores are added, and the tokens return to their owners¡ªexcept for the one on top. That player loses that token permanently." Zeke frowned thoughtfully. "So placing on top gets you more points, but costs you a token in the long run." "Exactly!" Elise beamed. "It''s all about balancing immediate points against long-term strategy." As they began playing, Zeke quickly realized there was much more to Towers than appeared at first glance. The board was only five spaces by five, and with everyone having ten tokens, space became a premium commodity almost immediately. Towers rose and fell across the board as players jockeyed for position, trying to maximize points while preserving their supply of tokens. Elise played with the confident precision of someone who had mastered the game years ago. She seemed to anticipate moves three or four turns ahead, manipulating the board to force others into disadvantageous positions. By the time the first game ended, she had scored a decisive victory with twenty points, leaving the Dracthen girl in second with thirteen, the Levayne boy with ten, and Zeke trailing with five. "Another round?" Elise asked innocently. "Definitely," Zeke nodded, determined to improve. "I think I''m starting to see the patterns." They played two more games, each as intense as the first. With each round, Zeke''s understanding deepened. He began to see how placing a token in certain positions could force opponents into no-win situations. By the third game, he''d closed the gap considerably, scoring eleven points to Elise''s twenty. "You''re getting better," she remarked as they reset the board. "Quick learner," Zeke replied with a grin. "One more?" The Levayne boy and Dracthen girl excused themselves to try other games, so Elise suggested a two-player variant. "When it''s just two people, everyone plays two colors to keep the placement restrictions interesting," she explained, keeping her white tokens and taking the brown ones as well. "You''ll be black and...?" "Red," Zeke decided, taking the red tokens. The two-player variant proved even more challenging. With control of two colors, Elise executed a series of moves that left Zeke constantly on the defensive. Her tokens seemed to appear exactly where they''d cause him the most trouble, and despite his best efforts, she defeated him twenty to ten in what felt like half the time of the previous games. "Good game!" she said cheerfully as they packed up the pieces. "Why is it you''re better than me at just about everything?" Zeke asked, shaking his head with a good-natured smile. He wasn''t truly bothered¡ªjust impressed by her skills. "Oh, I''d be terrible at most of these other games," Elise assured him as they walked toward the War game table. "My uncle in Sandwatch taught me Towers strategy. Once you know the patterns, it''s actually very straightforward. The game is what experts call ''closed''¡ªall possible moves have been mapped out. Someone who''s memorized the optimal responses like I have is almost impossible to beat." "Good to know my wounded pride can blame your unfair advantage," Zeke laughed. At the War table, a new game was just beginning. Jack, commanding the Red forces, spotted them and waved them over. "Want to learn how to play?" he asked. "Definitely," Zeke nodded eagerly. "Perfect! We usually get in two games per evening, so watch this round, and you two can join the next one," Jack explained, rubbing his hands together. "Alright, generals. Let''s begin!" Zeke and Elise watched attentively as the battle unfolded. The game was considerably more complex than Towers, with each "general" controlling thirty troops of varying strengths and abilities. There were intricate movement rules, different dice for combat resolution, and a resource system that added another layer of strategy. The map for this battle depicted a desert landscape, with stone formations that restricted movement and provided cover. Zeke watched, fascinated, as the armies maneuvered into position¡ªarchers and mages taking the rear, infantry forming protective walls, scouts darting forward to collect resources scattered across the battlefield. When the forces finally clashed, it was spectacular. Blue tried to outflank Red with a sweeping maneuver, but Jack countered by sending berserkers straight through Blue''s center. The powerful units tore a hole in Blue''s line before being surrounded and eliminated, but the damage was done. Blue''s formation began to crumble, and Red systematically picked off the scattered units. "That was amazing," Zeke said as Jack claimed victory. "The way you sacrificed those berserkers to break their formation was brilliant." "Thanks!" Jack beamed. "Strategy''s all about knowing when to sacrifice pieces for a greater advantage. So, you two ready to try? You can be my generals." Zeke hesitated. "I''d love to, but I barely understand the rules¡ª" "Hey, no pressure," Jack assured him. "I played almost fifty games before winning my first battle. It''s complicated, but that''s what makes it fun!" As the House Dracthen girl from earlier took position as a Red general, Jack assembled his Blue team with Zeke and Elise. The desert map was rolled up, and Jack conferred with his opponents briefly. "Let''s use the prairie map for the newcomers," Jack suggested. "It''s more straightforward." "Do maps make that much difference?" Zeke asked. "Huge difference," Jack confirmed. "The prairie is mostly open terrain with just a pond in the middle. Forests block ranged attacks, swamps slow movement but favor archers¡ªeach battlefield demands different tactics." Once the pieces were set out, Jack gathered his generals for a quick strategy session. "I''m only allowed to give each of you one sentence of direction," he explained. "Zeke, go left and hit hard. Elise, provide support with ranged units. Donna, you''re our center¡ªadvance steadily." Zeke nodded and began moving his units according to the plan. Despite having the movement cheat sheet, he found himself overwhelmed by the options. Which units should go first? How close should they stay together? When was the right moment to use special abilities? When the armies engaged, Blue''s superior coordination quickly became apparent. Zeke''s forces advanced too rapidly and became isolated, allowing the enemy to surround and eliminate them unit by unit. Within a few turns, his command was reduced to just five soldiers that could do little more than harass Blue''s flanks. Elise fared slightly better, keeping her archers on high ground, but without Zeke''s forces to protect them, they were eventually overrun. Donna fought valiantly in the center, but against the full might of Blue''s army, her troops were eventually crushed. "Sorry about that," Zeke said to Jack as the last Blue flag fell. "No apologies needed!" Jack replied enthusiastically. "First games are always rough. What matters is you''re learning¡ªand hopefully having fun!" "Definitely fun," Zeke assured him. "I can see why you enjoy it so much. The combinations seem endless." "Exactly! Every game is different," Jack agreed. "Keep coming back and you''ll improve faster than you think." With the war game concluded, Zeke and Elise returned to the Classic table for one more game before the evening ended. They tried a two-player pattern-matching game with shaped tiles that proved challenging for both of them, resulting in much laughter as their elaborate structures repeatedly collapsed. As the club meeting wound down, they bid farewell to the other players and headed out into the hallway. "So, was it worth coming?" Elise asked as they descended the tower stairs. "Absolutely," Zeke replied without hesitation. "Thanks for joining me. It''s nice to do something that doesn''t involve people trying to kill me or impossible physical challenges." "Just impossible board game challenges instead," Elise teased. "At least those don''t leave bruises," Zeke laughed. "Though my pride might disagree." "You did better than you think," Elise assured him. "Especially in the war game. You were aggressive¡ªmaybe too aggressive, but that''s easier to fix than being too cautious." "You noticed that too?" Zeke raised an eyebrow. "I thought I was being clever, striking fast." "It''s the right instinct," Elise said thoughtfully. "But in games like that, positioning is just as important as strength. Your units were powerful, but isolated." Zeke considered this. "Reminds me of what Victoria said about combat formations. One strong fighter alone is vulnerable, but the same fighter with proper support becomes nearly unstoppable." "Exactly!" Elise nodded enthusiastically. "That''s why I love strategy games¡ªthey teach principles that apply everywhere." They reached the base of the tower and paused at the intersection of two corridors. "By the way," Zeke said, "did you talk to Victoria about the mountain training?" "I did," Elise confirmed. "She says to meet her tomorrow morning before breakfast. Apparently, she has some special equipment you''ll need to try." "Special equipment?" Zeke raised an eyebrow. "She wouldn''t say," Elise shrugged. "Just that it would help prepare you for the chains." "Great," Zeke sighed. "Can''t wait to see what torture device she''s cooking up." "Speaking of tomorrow," Elise said, "I have an early Magical Theory class, so I should get some sleep." "Me too," Zeke agreed. "Thanks again for coming tonight. It was fun having you there." "I had fun too," Elise smiled warmly. "And hey, if I can keep beating you at board games while you save the world with your fancy aura tricks, I won''t complain!" Zeke laughed. "Fair deal. Goodnight, Elise." "Goodnight, Zeke." [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning [Active Quests:] [Running Away: Speak to Victoria about training for the mountain run] 44. Weighted Steps [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Training Grounds] [Date: February 14, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] Finding a training partner for mountain climbing proved harder than Zeke expected. For nearly two weeks after learning about the Fourth Trial, he''d been trying to catch Ingrid between her packed schedule of advanced combat classes and mercenary guild meetings. "Yes, I can probably help with that," she finally told him when he cornered her after dinner one evening. "The challenge will be creating something around here that accurately mimics mountain conditions. Let me think on it for a bit." Zeke readily agreed, not wanting to push his luck. Ingrid wasn''t known for her patience, and getting her help at all felt like a victory. For the next week, they spoke only in passing¡ªa nod in the hallway here, a brief greeting in the dining hall there. Then one afternoon as Zeke was finishing Swordsmanship class, wiping sweat from his brow after a particularly intense sparring session with Victoria, he spotted Ingrid approaching the training yard. Victoria nodded to her roommate as Zeke sheathed his practice sword and grabbed a towel. He''d barely raised his hand in greeting when Ingrid marched directly up to him. "You ready to start your training?" she asked without preamble. Zeke blinked in surprise. "I mean... yes, absolutely. Right now?" "No time like the present," Ingrid replied with a curt nod. "If you''re up for it, we''ll train three times a week¡ªMonday, Wednesday, Friday. I''d do more, but I have classes and meetings to attend." Victoria walked past, clapping Zeke firmly on the shoulder. "And this better not affect your performance in our morning sessions, understood?" She grinned as she said it. Zeke rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Wouldn''t dream of it." As Victoria departed, Ingrid turned and headed toward the edge of the training grounds. "Follow me." She led him toward the Training Woods, and Zeke felt a twinge of unease. He hadn''t ventured back there since the cult incident months ago. Still, he squared his shoulders and kept pace with her, refusing to show any hesitation. When they reached the edge of the woods, Ingrid stopped and turned to face him. "When you asked me to help, my hesitation wasn''t because I didn''t want to," she explained. "Mountain environments are uniquely challenging. The air up there is thinner¡ªnot just colder, but there''s actually less oxygen to breathe. Something that feels easy down here can become brutally difficult at elevation. Entire armies have been wiped out because they forgot to account for this." "Interesting," Zeke said, considering the implications. "So what''s our approach?" "Normally, this would be backward," Ingrid replied with a rare chuckle. "Many armies build training camps on mountains so their soldiers get used to fighting in thin air. When they return to lower elevations, they''re significantly stronger. What we need to do is create a workout down here that''s even harder than what you''ll face up there." "Makes sense," Zeke nodded, remembering his preparation for the Aura Trial. "That''s how I got through the Third Trial. Professor Harold''s intense training made the actual test seem manageable by comparison." "Exactly. We need to push you past your limits here so the mountain feels easy by comparison." Ingrid walked to a canvas bag propped against a nearby tree and pulled it open. "I''ve put together some equipment for you." Zeke peered inside the bag as she withdrew what looked like clothing¡ªrobes, boots, and gloves¡ªall oddly bulky and stiff. "Here, put these on," she said, handing him the items. Zeke hefted them, surprised by their weight. "These are heavy!" "That''s the point," Ingrid replied. "Go ahead and change." Zeke glanced around the empty clearing. "Out here?" "There''s no one else around," Ingrid sighed, turning her back. "Just be quick about it." Zeke changed swiftly, pulling on the strange outfit. The robes hung awkwardly on his frame, with lumpy sections throughout. The boots felt like they were made of solid stone, and the gloves had what felt like metal plates sewn into both the palms and backs. "All set," he called. Ingrid turned around, eyeing him critically. "The robes are a bit large, but that works in our favor¡ªadds more resistance when you move. How does it feel?" "Like I''m wearing a small castle," Zeke answered, shifting uncomfortably under the weight. "What exactly am I carrying here?" "Weights¡ªmostly rocks, some metal pieces," Ingrid explained. "Adds about fifty pounds total to your body weight." Zeke took a few experimental steps, feeling the strain in his legs already. "And I''ll be training in this?" "If you can learn to run in that setup, the mountain will feel like a breeze," Ingrid crossed her arms confidently. "I hope." "You hope?" Zeke raised an eyebrow. "If you fail after all this effort, I''ll have wasted a lot of valuable training time," she replied matter-of-factly. "We''ll start with sprints. Run to that oak tree and back to me, as many times as you can." Zeke looked at the tree she''d indicated¡ªabout thirty yards away¡ªand nodded. "Let''s do this." He took off toward the tree, immediately feeling like he was running through waist-deep water. His legs strained against the added weight, and his lungs burned with the effort. By the time he reached the tree, turned, and stumbled back to Ingrid, he was already breathing hard. "Not bad, but you can do better," she said without a hint of sympathy. "Again." Gritting his teeth, Zeke turned and ran back toward the tree. The second trip was worse than the first, his muscles protesting every step. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. By the third sprint, his legs felt like they were made of lead. ¡¸???????????????? ????????????¡¹ ¡¾Weighted Sprints: 3 completed¡¿ ¡¾Stamina: Rapidly declining¡¿ ¡¾Determination: Increasing¡¿ For the next hour, Ingrid kept him running sprints. Zeke pushed through the growing fatigue, focusing on one step at a time rather than the mounting exhaustion. When she finally signaled a stop, he collapsed onto the ground, his limbs trembling with exertion. "This... I..." he gasped between breaths. "Come on, get up," Ingrid said sharply. "You''re not that tired." "Oh, yes I¡ª" "No, you''re not!" she cut him off, her voice cracking like a whip. "Because if you are, then you''re dead! Up!" Something in her tone jolted Zeke to his feet, his body responding before his mind could protest. "Alright, soldier!" Ingrid barked. "Now I want pushups!" "Pushups?" Zeke repeated, confused. Ingrid looked genuinely surprised. "You don''t know how to do a pushup? Here, watch." She demonstrated, dropping to the ground and performing several perfect pushups with military precision. Zeke followed suit, the weights in his robes now crushing down on his back and the weights in his gloves making his wrists burn with each repetition. "Very good!" Ingrid called out, though her tone suggested otherwise. "But you could be doing better! Double time!" By the time she allowed him to stand, Zeke''s arms were shaking uncontrollably. Without giving him a moment to recover, she immediately sent him on more sprints. When he returned from the final run, barely able to stay upright, Ingrid finally nodded with something resembling approval. "Alright, Godfrey. Get out of that squirrel suit and back into your regular clothes." She turned away again as Zeke gratefully stripped off the weighted garments. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest as he changed back into his normal robes. When he finished, Ingrid faced him once more. "Great!" she nodded. Zeke started to walk past her toward the Academy, but she frowned. "Where do you think you''re going?" "I thought we were¡ª" "We''re not done until I say we''re done, soldier!" she barked. "Back to the sprints! On the double!" Zeke bit back a groan and started running once more¡ªthis time without the weights. Despite his exhaustion, he was surprised to find himself moving with unexpected speed. His body, freed from the extra burden, felt almost buoyant. After completing three sprints without pausing, Ingrid finally held up her hand. "That''ll do for today. Good work." Zeke came to a stop, chest heaving. "Thank... you..." he managed between gasps. "Here''s the plan moving forward," Ingrid said, all business. "On the days we meet, you''ll run drills like today''s. On off days, if you''re serious about improving, you''ll train on your own with this equipment." She nudged the bag with her foot. "Find paths through these woods or run laps inside the Academy walls if you''re worried about whoever tried to kill you during your last Trial." Zeke nodded, still trying to catch his breath. "I''ll... make it... happen." "Good," she replied, a hint of a smile crossing her face. "You''re doing better than I expected. Once we''ve built your endurance with sprints, we''ll move to distance training. I''d like to run you through the desert training grounds¡ªit would be excellent preparation¡ªbut that requires special permission. I''ve spoken to some professors about it, but we''ll have to wait for approval." "I appreciate all this," Zeke said sincerely, his breathing finally steadying. "Really." As they walked back toward the Academy, he glanced at her curiously. "What about the extreme cold on the mountain? Isn''t that a concern?" "Not as much as you''d think," Ingrid replied. "When you''re moving vigorously, your body generates plenty of heat. The bigger worry is having enough food to fuel that heat production." She paused, her expression distant. "I remember a mountain march years ago when I was still with the mercenary company. We were heading to storm this castle perched on a cliff edge..." She launched into a story about a desperate winter assault up an icy mountain pass, and Zeke listened intently, filing away the practical survival tips embedded in her tale. By the time they reached the Academy grounds, he''d learned more about mountain warfare than he''d expected to exist. "Same time Wednesday," she said as they parted ways. "Don''t be late." "Wouldn''t dream of it," Zeke replied with a tired smile. The very next day, as Swordsmanship class ended, Zeke grabbed his bag and headed straight for the Training Woods. Every muscle in his body ached from yesterday''s session with Ingrid, but that only strengthened his resolve. If he was going to conquer this Trial, there was no time to waste. Victoria looked up from her notes as he passed. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?" "Extra training," Zeke called back without slowing. "Don''t overdo it!" she warned. Zeke just waved and continued on his way. Once he reached the Training Woods, he found a secluded spot behind a large oak tree and changed into the weighted clothing Ingrid had given him. The outfit felt even heavier than he remembered. "Alright," he muttered to himself, adjusting the cumbersome robes. "Let''s do this." His legs protested with the first few steps, still sore from yesterday''s brutal workout. Zeke ignored the discomfort and set off down a winding path, moving at a steady jog rather than the all-out sprints Ingrid had demanded. "Distance today," he reminded himself. "Need to build endurance." Every step was a battle, every yard gained a small victory. The weighted boots felt like they were trying to sink into the earth, and the extra pounds around his torso made breathing more laborious than it should have been. But Zeke pushed on, keeping his pace deliberate and sustainable. He followed the main path through the woods, heading toward the Old Forest but with no intention of entering that dangerous area. As he approached the border where the Training Woods gave way to darker, more twisted trees, he veered onto a side path that curved back toward the Academy. His legs burned and his lungs ached, but there was a satisfaction in the struggle. This pain had purpose¡ªit was forging him into something stronger. When he completed the loop back to his starting point, he surprised himself by feeling ready for more. "One more circuit," he decided, choosing a different path this time. This new trail led northward, toward the ominously named Dark Forest. Like the Old Forest, it had a reputation for danger, but the path itself stayed safely within the boundaries of the Training Woods. As Zeke jogged along, the terrain became more challenging¡ªuneven ground, exposed roots, and occasional fallen branches that required careful navigation in his weighted boots. About halfway through this route, he noticed a narrow path branching off to the right. It was barely visible, more animal track than proper trail, snaking between trees toward the south. Curiosity piqued, Zeke decided to follow it. The path climbed steadily uphill, turning his jog into a grueling hike. Each step required more effort than the last as the combined resistance of the weights and the incline tested his limits. At times he was moving so slowly he might as well have been walking, but he refused to stop. "This is... perfect... training," he gasped to himself, pushing onward. Just when he thought the trail would never end, the ground began to level out. The narrow path widened as it joined several other trails, forming something closer to a proper road. Through the trees ahead, Zeke glimpsed something large and pale. Curious, he pushed himself to continue, and soon found himself in a small clearing dominated by an ancient statue. Standing at least twelve feet tall, it depicted a warrior with sword raised high. Time had not been kind to the monument¡ªthe head had crumbled away entirely, and much of the body was so weathered as to be almost unrecognizable. Only the upraised sword and a massive shield remained clearly defined, both covered in withered vines with tiny green shoots just beginning to emerge in the early spring thaw. Zeke circled the statue, noticing layers of graffiti carved into the stone base. Some marks looked decades or even centuries old, while others seemed more recent¡ªnames and dates of students who had discovered this forgotten monument. "Wonder who you were," Zeke said to the headless warrior. "Someone important, I bet, to get a statue this big." He examined the base for any inscription that might identify the figure, but found nothing legible. Just another mystery in a place full of them. The statue made for a perfect turning point. Zeke took a moment to catch his breath, then started back down the path toward the Academy. The downhill return journey was easier on his lungs but treacherous for his legs, the weights threatening to send him tumbling with any misstep. Despite the difficulty¡ªor perhaps because of it¡ªZeke found himself grinning as he picked his way down the trail. This was exactly the challenge he needed. The mountain run would involve chains rather than weighted clothes, but the principle was the same: learn to overcome resistance, and you build strength for when it matters most. As the Academy walls came back into view, Zeke''s thoughts turned to the Fourth Trial. The Headmistress had made it clear that his enemies would show no mercy. The mountain wouldn''t either. But with each weighted step, each burning muscle, each gasping breath, he was preparing himself to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The statue would become his marker¡ªhis daily goal. He''d run to it every day, adding distance and speed as his strength improved. By the time the Trial came, he''d be ready. No matter how hard it became. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior Endurance [Active Quests:] [Running Onward: Continue mountain training] [Mystery Stone: Discover the statue''s identity] 45. Unexpected Reunion [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Library] [Date: February 28, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] February flew by in a blur of sweat, aching muscles, and small victories. Zeke threw himself into training with Ingrid with the same enthusiasm he brought to everything else. Three times a week, they met in the Training Woods where she drove him to his limits and then pushed him just a little further. "Higher knees!" she''d bark as he struggled up a steep incline in his weighted gear. "You think the mountain will care you''re tired? Your enemies won''t wait for you to catch your breath!" On the days between their official sessions, Zeke ran on his own, mapping out increasingly challenging routes through the Academy grounds. What started as simple loops around the main courtyard evolved into complex circuits that took him through every corner of Leoncrest''s vast territory. He discovered hidden paths worn by generations of students, forgotten clearings where wild herbs grew in abundance, and even an abandoned watchtower that offered a spectacular view of the Mountains of Bones in the distance. That view alone made the brutal climb worthwhile, seeing the jagged peaks where his next Trial would take place gave his training immediate purpose. "Someday soon, I''ll be up there," he''d told himself, studying the distant mountains. "And when I am, I''ll be ready." The improvements came gradually but steadily. First, he noticed he could run longer before his lungs started burning. Then his recovery time shortened, what once left him gasping for ten minutes now required only two or three to catch his breath. The weighted gear began to feel almost normal, like a second skin he could move in naturally. During their last session of the month, Ingrid had timed him on a three-mile course through the most challenging terrain of the Training Woods. "Not bad," she''d said, checking her timepiece as he crossed her makeshift finish line. "You''ve shaved nearly eight minutes off your first attempt." Zeke had bent over, hands on his knees, grinning despite his exhaustion. "Next time I''ll make it ten." "The speed is good," Ingrid told him, handing him a water flask, "but the consistency is better. Your pace barely changed between the first mile and the last. That''s what will matter on Dragonpeak." She''d paused then, looking toward the distant mountains with an expression that suggested personal experience. "There will always be people who can sprint faster than you, that''s just life. Some people are born fast, some are born slow. What you can control is what you do with the speed you have, and how willing you are to push your body to its limits." They''d walked back toward the Academy together, their footsteps crunching on the frost-hardened ground. "The Mountain Run will have a reasonable time limit," she continued. "The challenge isn''t in being the fastest, it''s in not getting bogged down, in always continuing to move forward. I''ve seen stronger cadets than you fail because they stopped to rest too often or lost their way. Endurance and consistency trump raw speed every time." Zeke had taken those words to heart. Between training sessions with Ingrid, morning sword practice with Victoria, and his regular classes, he established a grueling schedule that left little free time. He still made room for Elise''s cooking club and the occasional Strategy Circle meeting, but otherwise devoted himself wholly to preparation. Ralph had noticed the change in him, commenting one evening as Zeke collapsed onto his bed after a particularly brutal day: "You know, when you first got here, I thought you''d wash out within a week. Now I''m starting to think the rest of us might be the ones who can''t keep up." The unexpected compliment had meant more to Zeke than he''d let on. On the last day of February, Zeke decided to tackle his most ambitious training route yet, a challenging circuit that took him through part of the Dark Forest and crossed into the edge of the desert training grounds. The combination proved even more difficult than he''d anticipated. The Dark Forest''s uneven terrain forced him to constantly adjust his footing, leaping over gnarled roots and ducking low-hanging branches. Just as his legs adjusted to that rhythm, the terrain shifted to the training desert, where each step sank into shifting sand, requiring twice the effort to maintain forward momentum. By the time he completed the circuit, his legs trembled with exhaustion, and his lungs burned as though he''d been breathing fire. But he''d done it, completed the entire route without stopping once, weighted gear and all. He staggered into the library afterward, needing a quiet place to catch his breath before dinner. The silence and familiar smell of parchment and leather bindings was a welcome change from the harsh elements outside. His legs felt like overcooked noodles as he collapsed into a chair at an empty table, head dropping back as he closed his eyes. "My boy, you look like you just went three rounds with a cave troll." Zeke cracked one eye open to find Adrian standing over him, an amused expression on his lined face. The old librarian carried a stack of ancient-looking tomes, his fingers blackened with the dust of ages. "That''s about how I feel," Zeke admitted, sitting up straighter despite his protesting muscles. "No, scratch that, I went three rounds with a cave troll without armor, where I was armed with a wet noodle and he had a club the size of my entire body." "Someone sounds particularly dramatic today," Adrian observed, setting down his books and taking the seat opposite Zeke. "And you seem especially cheerful," Zeke countered, noting the barely contained excitement in the librarian''s eyes. It reminded him of a child on his birthday, trying desperately not to reveal he knew about his surprise party. Adrian''s face broke into a genuine smile that made him look decades younger. "I apologize. I just received the first shipment of ancient Levayne books from House Hobbson. They''re to be displayed here at the Academy! Pius de''Levayne decided they would be better served here, where scholars can access them, rather than locked away in some private collection." "The books you were trying to recover?" Zeke asked, remembering their earlier conversations. "The ones that were... ''borrowed'' generations ago?" "The very same!" Adrian''s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm behind his spectacles. "Seventy-eight volumes of Levayne family chronicles, magical treatises, and historical accounts dating back nearly eight centuries. Some of them haven''t been seen by anyone outside House Hobbson in over two hundred years!" His excitement was infectious, and Zeke found himself smiling despite his exhaustion. "I''m rather excited about it," Adrian continued, "and was wondering if you''d like to take a first look? You did play a significant role in their return, after all." "Any chance you can use your aura to move my legs for me?" Zeke asked with a grin. "I''m not sure they remember how to work." "Technically, yes, I could," Adrian laughed. "Though I rather doubt you would find the experience pleasant. Aura-manipulation of limbs tends to feel rather like being a puppet on strings, most disorienting." "You''re probably right," Zeke agreed, pushing himself upright with exaggerated effort. "I''m coming, I''m coming." The ache in his muscles eased somewhat as he followed Adrian through the library''s maze of shelves. They passed through the restricted section where only senior students and faculty were permitted, then through a narrow doorway that Zeke had never noticed before, emerging in a circular chamber illuminated by softly glowing orbs that floated near the ceiling. In the center of the room stood a large glass display case inlaid with protective runes. Zeke had passed it before during his explorations, but it had always been mostly empty, containing only a handful of mundane-looking manuscripts. Now, however, it held several dozen volumes, each bound in ancient leather and adorned with intricate locks and clasps. The titles gleamed in gold lettering, offering tantalizing glimpses of forgotten knowledge. "Many of these books contain family secrets," Adrian explained, circling the case reverently. "Spells unique to House Levayne, accounts of battles that were deliberately omitted from official histories, even personal journals of Levaynes who served as royal advisors." At the very top sat the most impressive volume, "A Detailed History and Registry of House Levayne", alongside other Levayne family chronicles and records. It was massive, easily two feet tall, its cover embossed with the Levayne family crest in silver. "This one," Adrian said, pointing to it, "contains the complete genealogy of House Levayne from its founding to approximately fifty years ago. It details not just family lineages but also notable achievements, magical affinities, and even cause of death for each family member." "Why would House Hobbson want something like that?" Zeke asked, genuinely curious. "Knowledge is power," Adrian replied simply. "If you know a house''s strengths and weaknesses across generations, you can predict their likely moves in the present. Most noble houses guard their family histories jealously for that very reason." He pointed to a smaller, unassuming volume bound in faded blue leather. "That one contains accounts of the Mage Wars, written by a Levayne who fought alongside the royal forces. It contradicts several ''established facts'' about that conflict, facts that happen to paint House Hobbson in a particularly favorable light." "So they stole the books to protect their reputation?" Zeke guessed. "Among other reasons," Adrian nodded. "Politics between houses is rarely straightforward." The collection was magnificent, even to someone without Adrian''s scholarly passion. Zeke could feel the weight of history emanating from the ancient volumes, each one a window into a different piece of the past. "This is incredible," he said, genuinely impressed. "I''m glad this happened for you." "It is, and it''s all because of you," Adrian replied, turning to Zeke with unexpected sincerity. "I never would have been able to recover these without your help. That''s why I''ve added a small plaque dedicating the collection to you." Zeke felt a lump rise in his throat as Adrian pointed to the top of the bookcase. There, a row of small brass nameplates had been mounted into the wood. The one furthest to the right gleamed a bit brighter than the others, clearly new, with "Zeke de''Godfrey" engraved across its surface. "You didn''t need to do that," Zeke said, genuinely touched by the gesture. "I wanted to," Adrian insisted. "You''re a good friend and a valuable ally. Most students would have ignored an old man''s problems, but you jumped in without hesitation. This may seem small, but your name will remain here long after both of us are gone, a permanent reminder that House Godfrey honors its promises." Before Zeke could respond, footsteps approached from behind them, followed by a deep, resonant laugh that seemed to fill the chamber. "So you finally got them back, Adrian?" Zeke''s blood froze in his veins. That voice, he would recognize it anywhere. The same commanding tone that had directed the cultists in the forest, the voice that had ordered them to capture the intruder. Now its owner stood mere feet away. Fighting every instinct to run, Zeke kept his gaze fixed on the books, pretending to study them intently while his mind raced. Would the man recognize him? You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Unlikely, given the darkness that night, but fear had a way of revealing itself. "Yes, I did," Adrian replied cheerfully, oblivious to Zeke''s sudden tension. He clapped Zeke on the shoulder. "Thanks to Zeke de''Godfrey here." "I''ve heard quite a lot about this Zeke," the voice said. "Any chance you can introduce me?" "Of course!" Adrian nodded. "Zeke, meet my good childhood friend, Karl de''Minziar." Taking a deep breath, Zeke turned to face the man, forcing his expression into one of polite interest rather than recognition. Karl de''Minziar was imposing, standing well over six feet tall with a build like a boulder. Broad shoulders, massive hands, and a thick beard gave him an almost bear-like appearance. His eyes, however, were sharp and calculating beneath heavy brows, seeming to evaluate Zeke''s worth in an instant. He wore the traditional robes of a senior magic instructor, midnight blue with silver runes embroidered along the edges that occasionally flickered with faint light. A heavy pendant hung around his neck, a silver owl clutching a scepter in its talons. Zeke extended his hand, which Karl shook firmly, his grip just a fraction too tight to be comfortable. "So you''re the great Zeke de''Godfrey," Karl said, studying him with undisguised interest. "I wasn''t there, but I heard your performance in the Third Trial was quite something. Unraveling that much thread in mere minutes... very impressive." "Just did what needed doing," Zeke replied with a casual shrug, keeping his voice steady despite his racing heart. "Nothing special about it." "Nonsense!" Karl''s laugh boomed through the chamber. "It was brilliant work from what everyone says. Not even your legendary brother managed such a feat. Future generations of Godfreys will be looking up to you." His smile didn''t quite reach his eyes as he added, "Well, that is, if there are any future generations. Sorry to hear about all the trouble your house is having. Hope you don''t wind up following your brother''s path." The words carried the faintest hint of a threat, though Zeke couldn''t be certain it wasn''t his imagination. He kept his expression neutral, even as his mind noted the peculiar emphasis on "following your brother''s path", was it simply a reference to Artax''s injury, or something more sinister? Before he could formulate a response, Adrian jumped in, apparently sensing the tension without understanding its source. "Oh, don''t talk like that! Besides, even if the worst happened to Zeke, his brother is getting married soon." Zeke felt his jaw tighten. No, Adrian! Don''t tell him anything! "Is he now? That would be Artax?" Karl asked, his interest visibly piqued as he stroked his beard. "The dragon-slayer himself, tying the knot?" "That''s right," Adrian nodded enthusiastically, oblivious to Zeke''s discomfort. "The wedding''s happening in the Capital during the Spring Festival. It''s going to be quite the event, quite a few of us will be attending." "Is that so?" Karl''s eyes gleamed with something that made Zeke''s skin crawl. "Our poor wounded hero, finding happiness despite his... setback. How heartwarming." He tilted his head slightly, studying Zeke with renewed interest. "You''ll be there, of course. The dutiful younger brother, standing by his side." It wasn''t a question, but Zeke nodded anyway. "Wouldn''t miss it." "I''ll have to make sure I send the happy couple a suitable gift," Karl said, his fingers unconsciously touching the owl pendant at his throat. "Something... meaningful." He extended his hand to Zeke once more. "Congratulations to your family, and I do mean that." With those words, he turned and strode away, his robes billowing behind him. Zeke watched him go, unable to shake the feeling that he''d just been evaluated as a potential threat, and perhaps found lacking. It took Adrian a moment to notice Zeke''s unease. "What''s wrong?" he asked, frowning. "You look like you''ve seen a ghost." "I..." Zeke hesitated, glancing around to ensure they were alone. "What do you know about Karl?" "Well, he''s from House de''Minziar, but he''s always seemed decent enough," Adrian replied with a shrug. "We were classmates here at the Academy, and both became teachers around the same time. I wouldn''t call us the closest of friends, but we''ve always gotten along well." He studied Zeke''s face. "Why do you ask? Did he say something to offend you? Karl can be rather... direct, but he rarely means harm by it." "We need to talk somewhere private," Zeke said, lowering his voice and glancing toward the doorway where Karl had disappeared. Adrian''s expression turned serious as he led Zeke to his office, located in a quiet corner of the library''s top floor. The room was cluttered with books, scrolls, and curious magical artifacts, but Adrian quickly cleared two chairs, inviting Zeke to sit. Once inside, he locked the door and activated a small crystalline object on his desk. The crystal glowed briefly, causing the room''s edges to shimmer with a faint blue light. "Privacy ward," Adrian explained. "No one can overhear us now, not even with magical means. Now, what''s this about Karl that has you so troubled?" Zeke took a deep breath and recounted his experience in the Training Woods, the strange chanting he''d first heard, the robed figures gathered around a bonfire, the leader whose voice he now recognized as Karl de''Minziar''s. He described how they had pursued him through the forest, their words about "awakening" and their apparent connection to the dragons of calamity. "They were performing some kind of ritual," Zeke concluded. "And Karl was directing it all. I only caught glimpses of their faces, but that voice, it''s unmistakable. It''s him, Adrian. I''m certain of it." Adrian listened intently, his face growing increasingly grave. When Zeke finished, the librarian removed his spectacles and pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture of deep concern. "How long have you known this?" he asked quietly. "I didn''t know it was Karl until today," Zeke replied. "I recognized the voice the moment he spoke." "And you''re absolutely certain?" Adrian pressed, leaning forward. "Beyond any doubt? Karl and I have our differences, but accusing a senior professor of cult activities is extremely serious." "I''m certain," Zeke stated firmly, meeting Adrian''s gaze. "That voice is burned into my memory. The way it commanded everyone, how they all jumped to obey, I''ll never forget it. It was both chilling and powerful." He leaned forward, keeping his voice low despite the privacy ward. "When they realized I was watching, he ordered them to find me. They spread out through the forest, calling to each other. If I hadn''t found that hidden passage in the old wall..." Adrian sighed heavily, replacing his spectacles. "Well, you''ve placed me in quite the predicament. The evidence isn''t strong enough to take to the Headmistress, a voice identification alone wouldn''t suffice, especially against someone of Karl''s standing." He rose from his chair and began pacing, a habit Zeke had noticed emerged whenever the librarian was deeply troubled. "But I can''t simply ignore it either," Adrian continued. "I''m bound by oath to investigate any potential threat to the Academy and its students. It''s just... difficult to believe. Karl and I have known each other for decades. He''s always been ambitious, perhaps even ruthless in academic matters, but this?" "People aren''t always what they seem," Zeke said quietly. "My brother''s core wasn''t shattered by accident." Adrian stopped pacing, looking sharply at Zeke. "You think these events are connected? Artax''s injury and this cult?" "I don''t know," Zeke admitted. "But it seems like too much of a coincidence. The dragons awakening, cultists performing rituals, and someone targeting my family specifically." "You may be right," Adrian nodded slowly. "The trail is cold now, but I''ll have to look into it discreetly. The Academy keeps records of which professors leave the grounds and when. Perhaps I can cross-reference those with the night you encountered the cult." "That''s too dangerous," Zeke protested. "If he is leading this cult, he won''t hesitate to silence anyone who threatens him." "I''m afraid I have no choice," Adrian replied gravely. "If a cult has infiltrated the Academy, it must be rooted out. You''ve given me a location and a name, that''s more than I had before." He sat back down, suddenly looking every one of his many years. "Don''t worry, I''ll be careful. I''ve survived in these halls long enough to know how to conduct a quiet investigation. More importantly, what will you do now?" "I need to learn more about him," Zeke said. "If he''s really involved with this cult, and if they''re connected to the dragons somehow, I need to understand what they''re planning." "Be extremely cautious," Adrian warned. "Karl is not just a cultist if your suspicions are correct, he''s a master mage. His specialty is divination magic, which makes him particularly dangerous. He can sense when people are lying, track movements through the Academy, even glimpse fragments of the future." Zeke hadn''t known that particular detail, and it made his blood run cold. "Is there any way to counter that?" "Not easily," Adrian admitted. "Though divination isn''t perfect, it can be confused by multiple possibilities or deliberate misdirection. The important thing is to never directly confront him. If he suspects you know anything, you''d be in grave danger." His tone made it clear the discussion was over. Zeke reluctantly stood, knowing he couldn''t change the old man''s mind about investigating independently. They left the office together, Adrian looking troubled despite his reassurances. Rather than returning to his dormitory, Zeke made his way to the main entry hall. He rarely visited this part of the Academy except during official events, but he remembered seeing a directory of faculty offices kept there. Finding the massive leather-bound volume on its stand, he flipped it open, scanning the neatly inked pages. "Let''s see here," he muttered, running his finger down the list. "De''Minziar... de''Minziar... Here we go. Florence de''Minziar, Greg de''Minziar, Harry de''Minziar... Karl de''Minziar. Tower 3, Floor 10." His stomach lurched. Tower 3 housed most of the magical instruction facilities, which meant Professor Karl wasn''t just a cult leader, he was a mage specializing in divination magic. The implications were troubling. While Zeke wasn''t worried about being blasted into ash in the middle of the Academy, he was deeply concerned about magical means of detecting lies or reading thoughts. Investigating Karl''s office would be risky, but necessary. The question was how, and when. The answer came sooner than expected. Barely an hour later, as Zeke was passing Tower 2, he spotted Elise returning from her afternoon classes, a stack of books tucked under her arm and her face flushed from rushing between buildings. "Zeke!" she called, surprised. "I thought you had a run today. Were we planning to meet?" "No, nothing planned," Zeke replied, glancing around to ensure they weren''t overheard. "But something''s come up. Got a minute?" Elise studied his face, immediately recognizing his serious expression. "Of course. My roommate''s gone until dinner, we can talk in my room." They climbed the tower stairs in silence, Zeke''s mind racing as he considered how much to tell her. Elise was trustworthy, but involving her meant putting her at risk. By the time they reached her door, he''d decided that honesty was the only option, she deserved to know exactly what she might be getting into. Her room was small but meticulously organized, with books sorted by subject on shelves and various magical artifacts arranged on her desk. A few potted plants sat on the windowsill, their leaves gently swaying despite the lack of breeze, a small enchantment she''d created for her botany class. After locking the door, Elise turned to him expectantly. "What''s happened? You look like you''ve seen a ghost." "Worse than a ghost," Zeke replied grimly. "I''ve identified the leader of that cult I told you about, the one in the Training Woods." "You''re kidding," Elise sat on her bed, eyes wide. "Who is it?" "Professor Karl de''Minziar." "The divination master?" Elise''s hand flew to her mouth. "Zeke, are you absolutely sure? He''s one of the most respected mages at the Academy!" Zeke quickly explained the encounter in the library, watching Elise''s expression shift from shock to concern as he described recognizing Karl''s voice and the subtle threat in his words. "And Adrian''s going to investigate on his own," Zeke concluded. "Which I think is too dangerous, but he wouldn''t listen." "This is serious," Elise agreed, her usual cheerfulness replaced by grim determination. "If Professor de''Minziar is really leading some kind of dragon cult, and if they were responsible for what happened to your brother..." "Exactly," Zeke nodded. "The problem is proving it. If I go snooping around his office, he''ll know something''s up because I have no reason to be in the mage tower. If Adrian investigates alone, he could be in danger." Elise nodded thoughtfully. "So what''s your plan?" "That''s where I could use your help," Zeke admitted. "I need to get into his room somehow, but without raising suspicion." "You want me to create a diversion?" Elise asked. "Maybe," Zeke replied. "Or... could you use that invisibility trick again? The one where you made us look like mice? I could sneak into his office and look around." Elise frowned, considering the options. "I could, but I''m not sure that''s the best approach. Magic leaves traces that other mages can detect, especially someone with divination skills. He''d know someone used illusion magic in his office, even if he couldn''t identify who." "What would you suggest, then?" "Well..." Elise tapped her chin, her eyes brightening as an idea formed. "Your brother''s wedding is coming up in a few weeks, right? Originally, I was planning to go with you, but what if I stayed behind instead?" Zeke tilted his head, not following her thinking. "Think about it," she continued excitedly. "What if you invited Karl to the wedding, since he''s Adrian''s friend? If he accepts and travels with you, his office will be empty. I could search it while you''re both away without raising suspicion." "I see what you''re saying," Zeke said slowly, processing the idea. "If he''s seen leaving with me for the Capital, no one will connect any disturbance to us. Whereas if we sneak in now and something''s discovered missing..." "Exactly," Elise nodded. "Plus, I can legitimately be in the mage tower for my studies. If someone spots me there, it won''t seem unusual. I''m taking Elemental Theory this term, and our classroom is just down the hall from his office." "I don''t like putting you at risk," Zeke said, though he had to admit the plan made tactical sense. "Just because you want to do all the exciting parts yourself," Elise teased, seeing through his hesitation. "You hate sitting on the sidelines, but sometimes that''s the smarter play." "And I have to wait weeks for answers," Zeke added, though without real complaint. "Poor you," Elise laughed, reaching over to punch his arm lightly. "I can do this, and you know it. My plan has the best chance of success with the least risk. Besides, I''m already taking classes in Tower 3, I know the routines, the guards, which professors stay late." Zeke couldn''t argue with her logic. "You''re right. But we need to be careful about how we approach this. If he suspects anything..." "He won''t," Elise assured him. "We''ll make it natural. You''re inviting several professors to the wedding, right? Adrian''s already going. It won''t seem odd if you include Karl, especially if you frame it as wanting to mend relations between your houses." "That could work," Zeke nodded, impressed by her quick thinking. "But what exactly will you be looking for in his office?" "Anything connecting him to the cult or the dragons," Elise replied. "Correspondence, ritual items, books on forbidden magic, anything out of place for a divination professor." "And if you''re caught?" "I''ll say I was looking for Professor Thorne, she''s been helping me with a special project, and her office is nearby. It''s not unusual for students to get turned around in the mage tower." Over the next hour, they refined their plan, identifying potential challenges and backup options. Zeke would need to find a natural way to extend a wedding invitation to Karl without seeming too eager. Elise would need to perfect her excuse for being in the mage tower and determine exactly what she was looking for. "We should establish a signal," Elise suggested. "Something innocent that lets me know if he accepted the invitation." "Good idea," Zeke agreed. "How about I mention the weather when we meet for cooking club? If it''s ''clear skies,'' he''s coming with me. If it''s ''looks like rain,'' he declined." "Perfect," Elise nodded. "And I should write down anything I find, not try to take objects. Even with his divination abilities, he''d be hard-pressed to detect that someone simply looked at his possessions if nothing''s missing." As they worked through the details, Zeke found himself both impressed by Elise''s strategic thinking and concerned about involving her. Not because he doubted her abilities, but because he hated the thought of her facing danger if things went wrong. "Just promise me you''ll be careful," he said finally. "If anything feels wrong, or if you think you''ve been discovered, abort the mission. No information is worth your safety." "I promise," Elise said, her expression solemn. "But the same goes for you. If Karl accepts your invitation, you''ll be traveling with him, possibly for days. Keep your guard up." "I will," Zeke assured her. "And I''ll write to Artax tonight to see if he''s comfortable with me adding another guest. I''m sure it''ll be fine, he''s never been one to fuss over guest lists, but I should check anyway." As twilight fell outside the window, they concluded their planning. Zeke rose to leave, still feeling uneasy about the whole situation but confident they were taking the right approach. "One more thing," Elise said as he reached the door. "Be careful what you say to Adrian going forward. I know you trust him, but if he''s investigating on his own..." "Karl might be watching him," Zeke finished her thought. "Good point. I''ll keep our plan between us." [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning [Active Quests:] [Uninvited Guest: Write Professor Karl de''Minziar a wedding invitation] [Forgiveness/Permission: Ask Artax if it''s okay to invite Karl de''Minziar to the wedding] [Many Plans: Prepare for the wedding] 46. Wedding Bells [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Outer Courtyards] [Date: March 20, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] The month leading up to Artax''s wedding flew by in a whirlwind of activity. Leoncrest Castle buzzed with anticipation for the Spring Festival, as it always did for major celebrations. Students hung colorful banners from tower windows, and the kitchens worked overtime preparing special treats. Even the sternest professors seemed a bit lighter in their step. For Zeke, these weeks were a blur of classes, training sessions, and planning. Between mountain runs with Ingrid, sword drills with Victoria, and his regular coursework, he barely had time to think. He still made it to Elise''s cooking club and the occasional Strategy Circle meeting, but mostly kept his focus on the approaching wedding. The Spring Festival itself was a welcome break from the intensity of academy life. Zeke threw himself into the celebrations with characteristic enthusiasm, sampling every treat from the festival stalls and joining in the traditional dances held in the main courtyard. Students released hundreds of flower petals from the towers, creating a swirling storm of color that had everyone laughing and spinning beneath it. "You seem distracted," Ralph commented during the height of the festivities, as they watched a troupe of acrobats perform impossible feats in the central square. "Worried about meeting Karl on the trip?" "Nah," Zeke replied with a confident grin that masked his true feelings. "Just excited to see my brother. It''s been months." The truth was more complicated. While he genuinely looked forward to seeing Artax, the knowledge that Professor Karl would be traveling with him, and that Elise would be searching the professor''s office in their absence, weighed on his mind. But dwelling on potential dangers wouldn''t help anything. Better to stay focused on the moment and deal with problems as they arose. The morning after the festival, Zeke awoke early, packed his bags, and headed to the Academy gates where carriages waited to transport students to the Capital. The courtyard bustled with activity as students took advantage of the week-long break, many choosing to visit the Capital for its famed Spring celebrations. Zeke spotted Professor Karl across the yard, speaking with another faculty member. The professor''s laugh carried across the space, seeming friendly and normal, not at all like someone who led secret cult rituals in the forest. Zeke deliberately avoided making eye contact, not wanting an awkward conversation before they were forced into close quarters during the journey. As he prepared to board his assigned carriage, hurried footsteps approached from behind. "Zeke! Wait!" He turned to find Elise rushing toward him, slightly out of breath. She wore a simple blue dress rather than her academy robes, and carried a small package wrapped in brown paper. "Almost missed you," she said, pushing the package into his hands. "A gift for your brother and his bride. Nothing fancy, just some preserved herbs from my province. They''re supposed to bring good fortune to new couples." Zeke tucked the package into his bag. "Thanks. I''m sure they''ll appreciate it." He glanced around to ensure no one was within earshot. "Are you sure you''re okay with this?" he asked quietly. "Don''t worry about me," Elise assured him with a confident smile. "You just go and have fun with your brother. I''ll have a report for you when you get back, one way or another." "If anything feels wrong, " Zeke began. "I''ll abort the mission," she finished for him. "We''ve been over this a dozen times. I know what I''m doing." Zeke nodded, recognizing the determination in her eyes. "Right. See you in a week, then." "Try not to get into any trouble without me," she called as he climbed into the carriage. The journey south proved largely uneventful. The caravan of academy carriages stayed mostly together, creating a small traveling community. Zeke shared his carriage with three other students, two he knew vaguely from classes and one he''d never met. They passed the time with card games and stories, the landscape rolling past their windows changing gradually from the forested highlands around Leoncrest to rolling farmland and finally the sprawling outskirts of the Capital. Zeke had spotted Professor Karl only a few times during rest stops, the older man keeping mostly to himself. If the professor harbored any suspicions about Zeke''s invitation, he showed no sign of it. As they approached the Capital, Zeke couldn''t help but press his face to the window like an excited child. Though he''d visited before, the sheer scale of the city still impressed him. Massive stone walls surrounded countless buildings, from humble shops to towering mansions. The streets teemed with people from every corner of the kingdom, dressed in a riot of colors and styles. Late afternoon sunlight bathed the city in golden light as their carriage rumbled through the enormous gates. The guard barely glanced at their academy insignia before waving them through, Leoncrest students were common visitors, especially during festivals. Inside the walls, the Academy caravan dispersed, each carriage heading toward different destinations. Zeke''s turned onto a wide avenue lined with elegant townhouses, finally stopping before the Godfrey family residence. The townhouse looked transformed from when Zeke had last seen it. Gone was the slightly neglected appearance; now the fa?ade gleamed with fresh paint, the brass fixtures polished to a mirror shine. Flowering vines climbed trellises on either side of the entrance, and elegant lanterns cast a warm glow in the fading daylight. A butler in immaculate livery descended the steps to open the carriage door. "Master Zeke," he greeted with a formal bow. "Welcome home." Before Zeke could reply, the front door flew open and a familiar figure bounded down the steps. "Zeke!" "Artax!" His brother looked better than Zeke had seen him in years. Though he still carried his cane, Artax moved with newfound energy and confidence. He wore a formal uniform adorned with ceremonial tassels, brass buttons, and the colorful ribbons of House Godfrey, looking every inch the proud heir despite his injury. The brothers embraced warmly, Zeke noting his brother''s grip was stronger than it had been during their last meeting. "You look amazing," Zeke said, stepping back to take in the transformation. "Getting married agrees with you." "It''s not official yet," Artax laughed. "But yes, I feel better than I have in ages. Are you ready for tomorrow?" "Ready as I''ll ever be," Zeke replied. "Though I might need help with all those formal clothes. Those ceremonial collars are like torture devices." "You''ll manage," Artax said with a grin. "Listen, I''m actually heading to the cathedral now for some final preparations. Father''s inside waiting for you, he''s been pacing around all day. Go easy on him; I think he''s more nervous about this wedding than I am." Zeke raised an eyebrow. "Father? Nervous?" "People change," Artax said with a meaningful look. "Sometimes even stubborn old hawks like him. Go on in, I''ll see you at the wedding!" With a quick hug and a pat on the back, Artax headed toward a waiting carriage while servants gathered Zeke''s bags. Taking a deep breath, Zeke climbed the stairs and entered the townhouse. The interior was as transformed as the exterior, fresh flowers filled ornate vases, new tapestries adorned the walls, and the previously faded furniture had been replaced or reupholstered. The transformation spoke of renewed prosperity and, perhaps, hope. In the antechamber, Agrian de''Godfrey paced back and forth, his formal attire slightly rumpled from a day of nervous movement. When Zeke entered, his father looked up, and a warm smile broke across his face, an expression Zeke had rarely seen directed at him. "My son!" "Father!" They embraced, and when they separated, Agrian studied him with surprising intensity. "Well, well. I never thought I''d see the day when you looked so... regal." The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "Thanks," Zeke muttered, unsure if it was a compliment or yet another subtle criticism. "No, no! I don''t mean it that way," Agrian hastened to add, seeming genuinely concerned he''d been misunderstood. "Artax has brought it to my attention that I may not have treated you with proper respect when you were growing up. For that, I am sorry." Zeke blinked, stunned by the unexpected apology. "You''ve taken everything it means to belong to House Godfrey and borne it with pride," his father continued. "I''ve heard word of your exploits at the Academy." He placed a hand on Zeke''s shoulder, his grip firm. "My son, I couldn''t be more proud of you." Before Zeke could respond to this unprecedented display of fatherly affection, a door at the end of the hall opened, and a young woman entered. She wore a simple but elegant white gown, her auburn hair arranged in an intricate style adorned with tiny white flowers. Zeke recognized her immediately, she had been one of the few village women who had politely but firmly refused his attempts at flirtation during his visits home. "Ah! Tasha!" Agrian beamed, extending his hand to her. "Please, have you met my younger son, Zeke?" "I don''t believe we''ve been formally introduced," she replied with a graceful curtsy that only slightly betrayed her unfamiliarity with court etiquette. "It''s a pleasure to finally meet you properly." "The pleasure is all mine," Zeke assured her with his most charming smile. "I can''t believe you''re actually marrying Artax. Not that he isn''t a good man, it''s just strange seeing him settling down." "He wasn''t planning to," Tasha confided with a mischievous smile. "But I can be very persuasive when I want something." "We should be on our way if we''re to make the rehearsal dinner on time," Agrian interrupted, glancing pointedly at an ornate clock on the wall. "What are they going to do if we''re late?" Tasha asked, hitching up her gown slightly as they moved toward the door. "Start without me?" Zeke laughed, immediately liking his soon-to-be sister-in-law. Despite the exhaustion of travel, his spirits lifted as they boarded another carriage bound for a nearby restaurant where the rehearsal dinner would be held. The evening passed in a pleasant blur of introductions, toasts, and family stories. Zeke was surprised to discover how much he enjoyed being surrounded by relatives he rarely saw, catching up on family news and sharing (carefully edited) tales of his academy adventures. Even more surprising was how many of them seemed genuinely interested in his trials and tribulations. "You''re quite the talk of the family," an elderly great-aunt told him over dessert. "Artax may have been our shining star, but you''re quickly becoming our rising one." Later that night, back at the townhouse, Zeke collapsed into bed, his mind racing despite his exhaustion. Tomorrow would bring not just his brother''s wedding, but also a prolonged encounter with Professor Karl. And somewhere back at the Academy, Elise would be taking an enormous risk on his behalf. Despite these worries, sleep claimed him quickly. His last thought before drifting off was a simple hope: that tomorrow would bring joy to his brother and answers for himself. The wedding day dawned clear and perfect, as if the weather itself approved of the union. Zeke rose early, spending extra time getting his formal attire just right, the elaborate House Godfrey ceremonial garb that he so rarely wore. The heavy blue jacket with silver embroidery felt foreign after months in academy robes, but he had to admit he cut a striking figure in the mirror. The Cathedral of the Seven Lights, center of worship for all of Athia, stood in the heart of the Capital, its towering spires visible from nearly every corner of the city. As their carriage approached, Zeke marveled at its sheer scale. Massive stained glass windows depicting heroes and saints gleamed in the morning light, and intricate stone carvings adorned every surface. Inside, the cathedral took his breath away. The ceiling vaulted nearly a hundred feet overhead, covered in detailed frescoes of angels and warriors. Enormous stained-glass windows ran from floor to ceiling, casting kaleidoscopic light across the marble floors. Between them, lifelike statues of saints and heroes stood in ornate alcoves, their stone eyes seeming to follow visitors. Smaller shrines dotted the cathedral''s periphery, where devout worshippers moved from station to station, offering prayers for the couple. The high altar itself was bedecked in fresh flowers, their fragrance mixing with incense to create an intoxicating aroma. The massive organ thundered, its vibrations so powerful Zeke could feel them in his chest. Scanning the crowd as he took his seat near the front, Zeke spotted Professor Karl several rows back, looking unexpectedly solemn in formal attire. The professor caught his eye and nodded respectfully, giving no hint of suspicion or malice. The ceremony itself was everything a royal wedding should be, grand, emotional, and tradition-filled. The bishop entered with a procession of altar boys, Artax bringing up the rear. Though his brother still walked with his cane, his posture was proud and his face radiant with anticipation. As the clergy passed the altar rail, Artax turned to face the main aisle. The organ shifted to a triumphant processional as Tasha entered on her father''s arm. Even from his seat near the front, Zeke could see tears streaming down Artax''s face as his bride approached. Throughout the ceremony, the couple never took their eyes off each other. When they exchanged rings, Zeke felt a lump form in his throat, unexpectedly moved by the genuine love evident in their every gesture and word. When they kissed and the organ swelled to its most thunderous volume yet, the entire cathedral erupted in applause. Artax and Tasha practically floated down the aisle, arms linked and faces glowing with happiness. From the cathedral, the wedding party and guests moved to a nearby reception hall decorated in House Godfrey colors interspersed with flowers representing Tasha''s family. Thousands of candles and magical lights illuminated the space, and a full orchestra played lively tunes as couples filled the dance floor. Zeke found himself content to observe from the sidelines, nursing a glass of champagne and watching his brother''s happiness from a distance. He had just declined a dance invitation from a distant cousin when a familiar voice spoke from behind him. "Quite a celebration." Zeke managed not to flinch as Professor Karl stepped up beside him, also holding a glass of champagne. The professor''s tone was casual, but Zeke couldn''t tell if it was meant as a genuine comment or carried some hidden meaning. "Yeah, they went all out," Zeke replied with a relaxed smile, grateful for the crowd''s energy that helped mask any discomfort. "Thanks for coming." "Thank you for the invitation," Karl responded, taking a small sip from his glass. "I knew House Godfrey was closely allied with House Levayne, but I didn''t think merely being friends with Adrian would secure me an invitation." He chuckled softly. "Almost makes me wonder if there was an ulterior motive." Zeke felt his blood run cold but kept his expression neutral. Had the professor seen through their plan? Was Elise in danger? Had he, "And while I take this as a gesture of goodwill," Karl continued, "I should note that it likely won''t do anything to stop House Minziar from moving against you politically." Relief flooded through Zeke as he realized the professor''s assumption. Karl thought this was a political maneuver, House Godfrey attempting to strengthen ties with House Minziar through social niceties! He hadn''t suspected the real reason at all. "Well," Zeke replied with a casual shrug, "I figured it couldn''t hurt." "Indeed not," Karl agreed, raising his glass slightly. "The heads of my house are aware of the move and are taking note that House Godfrey is willing to play the political game when necessary. As I said, I don''t think it will save you in the end, but the gesture has been noted, and may be reciprocated in the future. If you truly wish to make some form of alliance work, I suggest paying attention when the time comes." Zeke nodded solemnly, making a mental note that if House Minziar ever reached out, he should probably respond positively. After a brief pause, he said, "Well, I''m grateful you could join us, Professor." "No, I''m grateful to you," Karl replied, his tone suddenly more sincere. "I never thought I''d see the day when House Godfrey was finding its footing again. If nothing else, you''re giving me a good seat to watch an interesting performance, and that''s something worth appreciating." His expression brightened. "Ah, here comes the happy couple now!" Artax and Tasha were making their way through the crowd, accepting congratulations and well-wishes. As they approached Zeke and Professor Karl, they smiled, though Zeke noticed their expressions cooled slightly when they saw the professor. "Congratulations to you both," Karl said, raising his glass. "What a beautiful wedding! Simply splendid. You chose an excellent venue." "We nearly held it at the Godfrey Estate," Artax replied, his arm around Tasha''s waist. "But I wanted my brother to attend. I couldn''t stand the thought of him missing it, so we found a way to have it here in the Capital instead." "Ah, the bond between brothers is truly something special, is it not?" Karl nodded appreciatively. "Well, I am quite glad to see that you two are so close. This evening has been a great pleasure." He turned to Zeke. "Thank you again for including me." Then back to Artax: "May your marriage prove fruitful, and may you bring many heirs to your house." With that, he finished his champagne, handed the empty glass to a passing server, shook Artax''s hand once more, and departed. Zeke and Artax watched him go, both maintaining pleasant expressions until he was well out of earshot. "Not that I didn''t find him pleasant," Tasha said once he was gone, "but isn''t House Godfrey somewhat at odds with House Minziar?" "Yeah," Zeke admitted, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "It''s complicated." "Complicated as in you''re using some political move to confuse the powers that be?" Artax raised an eyebrow. "You need a favor from them, so you''re putting on a show of goodwill so they look bad when they refuse?" "Not exactly," Zeke laughed, shaking his head. He glanced around to ensure no one was listening, then lowered his voice. "But I did need someone to search his office, and for that, he needed to be away from the Academy." Artax''s jaw dropped, and Tasha burst out laughing. "Now that''s the kind of politics I understand," she said, eyes twinkling with mischief. "That''s the kind of thing that could get you killed!" Artax groaned, his previous good humor suddenly replaced with concern. "Yeah, well, people have already tried to kill me three times," Zeke replied with a nonchalant shrug. "At this point, what''s one more risk?" Artax blinked in shock. "What?" "You mean... I haven''t told you about all that?" "No! And now isn''t the time to get into it, but..." Artax ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. "Are you serious?" "Wish I wasn''t," Zeke admitted. "And you''re certain they were trying to kill you?" "Someone threw a dagger at me from fifty feet away," Zeke said flatly. "Pretty sure they weren''t practicing their aim. Then there was the enchanted explosive hidden in the ball of twine during my Third Trial, and, " Artax whistled softly, cutting him off. "We definitely shouldn''t discuss this here," he said, glancing around at the crowded reception. "You''re staying through tomorrow, right?" "That''s the plan," Zeke confirmed. "Then we''ll talk properly tomorrow," Artax promised, gripping Zeke''s shoulder. "No interruptions." His expression softened. "Thanks for coming. It means everything having you here." With that, the couple moved on to greet other guests, leaving Zeke with mixed emotions. On one hand, he was genuinely happy for his brother, Artax deserved this happiness after everything he''d endured. On the other, he couldn''t help wondering what Elise might be discovering back at the Academy, and what dangers they were all facing. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of music, dancing, and celebration. Despite his concerns, Zeke found himself enjoying the festivities, even accepting a few dance invitations from Tasha''s friends. The genuine joy surrounding him was infectious, a welcome respite from the tension and suspicion that had characterized recent months at the Academy. As the night drew to a close, one thought sustained him: tomorrow he would tell Artax everything, holding nothing back. His brother had always been his strongest ally, perhaps together they could make sense of the tangled web Zeke had stumbled into. And hopefully, when he returned to Leoncrest, Elise would have information that could help them all understand what they were truly up against. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning [Active Quests:] [Return Home: Head back to the Academy] [Debriefing: Tell Artax all about what''s happened] [Debriefing (part 2): Talk to Elise upon your return to the Academy] 47. Uncovered [Scene Loading...] [Location: Athia City - Northern Gates] [Date: March 23, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] The days following Artax''s wedding were some of the best Zeke had experienced in months. Free from training regimens, assassination attempts, and cult conspiracies, he simply enjoyed being a brother again. He, Artax, and Tasha spent their mornings exploring the Capital''s bustling markets and grand monuments. Despite his injury, Artax proved a surprisingly energetic tour guide, pointing out historical landmarks and sharing stories from his own academy days. Tasha, who had rarely left her village before meeting Artax, matched Zeke''s wonder at the city''s grandeur. "I had no idea buildings could be so tall," she marveled as they gazed up at the Royal Observatory. "Do you think people ever fall off while building them?" "All the time," Artax answered with mock seriousness. "That''s why it''s traditional to bury a few workers in the foundation." "He''s lying," Zeke assured her when her eyes widened. "But I wouldn''t put it past some of the older noble houses." Their afternoons were filled with long conversations in the townhouse garden. Zeke told Artax everything, the assassination attempts, the strange cult in the woods, recognizing Professor Karl''s voice, and their plan to search his office. His brother listened without interruption, his expression growing increasingly grave. "You should have told me sooner," Artax said when Zeke finished. "These aren''t schoolyard pranks you''re dealing with." "What could you have done?" Zeke asked. "Besides worry yourself sick?" "I still have connections," Artax replied. "And resources you don''t. Promise me you''ll send word if things get worse." "I promise," Zeke agreed, though privately he wondered what constituted "worse" when people were already trying to kill him. On their last evening together, Artax presented Zeke with a small wooden box. "A wedding gift for me?" Zeke joked as he accepted it. "Call it a graduation gift in advance," Artax replied. "Open it when you''re back at the academy." All too soon, the time came for Zeke to return to Leoncrest. Saying goodbye was harder than he expected. As he embraced his brother one final time at the carriage depot, a lump formed in his throat. "Try not to get yourself killed before I see you again," Artax said, his attempt at humor undercut by genuine concern. "Same to you," Zeke replied. "Take care of Tasha." "I will," Artax promised. "And remember what I said, you''re not alone in this. Send word if you need me." The journey north felt twice as long as the trip down. Without the excitement of the wedding ahead, the hours stretched endlessly. Zeke found himself sharing a carriage with a group of third-year students he barely knew. They spent most of the trip discussing the latest dueling tournament, occasionally trying to include Zeke, who managed polite responses while his mind raced elsewhere. As the carriage rolled through forests and fields, his thoughts kept returning to Elise. Had she managed to search Karl''s office? What might she have found? The possibilities ranged from nothing at all to evidence that could expose the entire cult. Then darker thoughts crept in. What if she''d been caught? Karl was a powerful mage who specialized in divination, he might have ways of knowing when someone entered his domain. If Elise had been discovered... Zeke forced the thought away. Elise was smart and careful. She wouldn''t take unnecessary risks. Still, as the journey stretched into its second day, worry gnawed at him like a hungry beast. By the time the Academy''s towers appeared on the horizon, his imagination had conjured a dozen scenarios, each worse than the last. The carriage pulled through Leoncrest''s gates just as the sun began its descent. Shadows stretched across the courtyard as Zeke leapt down, barely waiting for the vehicle to stop completely. A servant called after him about his bags, but Zeke waved dismissively. "Just bring them to my room!" he called over his shoulder, already taking the stairs two at a time. His first instinct was to head straight for Tower 2 and Elise''s room, but caution prevailed. If something had gone wrong, rushing to her room might only draw unwanted attention. Instead, he forced himself to walk at a normal pace through the main entrance hall. And there she was, seated casually on a couch near the grand staircase, a book open in her lap as if she''d been reading for hours. Relief washed over him like a cool breeze. She was alive, unharmed, and apparently unbothered. Her eyes lifted from her book as he approached, a smile spreading across her face. "Well, look who''s back from the Capital," she said, closing her book. "How was the wedding?" "Amazing," Zeke replied, dropping onto the couch beside her. "Artax looked happier than I''ve seen him in years. Now, about," "You know," she interrupted smoothly, "I really missed our cooking sessions. It''s not the same making bread alone." Her eyes flickered meaningfully to the side, where two students lingered near a bulletin board, occasionally glancing in their direction. Zeke immediately understood. "Sorry," he said, adjusting his tone. "I guess I''m still excited from the trip. You miss me that much, huh?" "Don''t flatter yourself," she teased, but her smile was warm. "I just need someone to knead the dough when my arms get tired." Zeke laughed, following her lead. "So what did you do while I was gone? Anything interesting?" "Studied mostly. Caught up on reading," she replied. Then, lowering her voice slightly: "Would you like to go back to my room, or yours? I have those recipes I mentioned." "Is your roommate around?" Zeke asked, knowing Ralph would be impossible to speak freely around. "Yes, she is," Elise nodded. "And yours is, too. I saw him heading upstairs not long ago, and he rarely goes out again this time of night." Zeke thought for a moment. "What about the library? I need to return a book anyway." Elise nodded, and they rose together, maintaining their casual conversation as they left the hall. As they walked, Zeke found himself checking every shadow, studying every face they passed. Was that student watching them? Did that professor linger too long in the corridor? "You''re being obvious," Elise murmured as they approached the library. "Try looking less like someone expecting an assassin." "Sorry," Zeke replied, forcing his shoulders to relax. "Just being careful." The library was unusually quiet, with most students still enjoying their break elsewhere. Adrian''s desk stood empty, he''d stayed in the Capital to handle some House Levayne business, Zeke recalled. They made their way to the lion statue, Elise glancing casually around before Zeke activated the mechanism. The door slid open, and they quickly descended into the hidden passage. "Wait," Zeke said before they continued further. "Let me check something." He pressed his eye to the periscope, scanning the area they''d just left. For nearly a minute, nothing happened. Then a figure crept into view, a student in House Minziar colors. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. "Jack?" Zeke whispered in surprise, recognizing his fellow board game enthusiast. The boy looked around furtively, then kicked the lion in frustration. "Are they here?" a voice called from beyond Zeke''s field of vision. "No," Jack replied. "Either the rumors about this lion are true, or they gave us the slip." "This library is huge," the unseen voice growled. "They''re probably just hiding in an alcove somewhere." "Do you think they know we''re following them?" Jack asked. "Well, if they don''t, they will if you keep talking like that," the other voice snapped. "But no, I don''t think so. They just want privacy, and the library''s a good place for it. See if you can find them, but don''t let yourself be seen. Just listen." Jack cast one last suspicious glance at the lion before moving away, disappearing from view. Zeke pulled back from the periscope with a frown. "They''re gone, for now." "Who was it?" Elise asked, her face tight with concern. "Jack from the board game club, plus someone I couldn''t see," Zeke replied as they continued down the passage. "Minziar student. Always seemed friendly enough." "Guess that''s one club you should avoid for a while," Elise said. The Room looked exactly as they remembered it, comfortable furniture, ancient tomes lining the walls, and the small guest book on the table. Zeke checked the log, relieved to find no new entries since their last visit. "At least we''re still the only ones who know about this place," he said, dropping into an armchair while Elise took the couch. "For now," she agreed. "But if Jack keeps kicking that lion, who knows?" Elise reached into her pocket and withdrew a small notebook, its edges worn from frequent handling. "I got a lot of information," she said, her voice shifting from casual to serious. "More than I expected, honestly." "And you didn''t get caught?" Zeke asked, leaning forward. "I mean, obviously you''re not dead, but," "Not exactly caught," Elise replied, biting her lip. "Let me walk you through it." She flipped open her notebook, revealing pages of cramped handwriting. "So, you left on the wedding day, right? My original plan was to search his office immediately, but the timing didn''t work out. The entire mage tower was swarming with activity, professors finishing work before the break, students asking last-minute questions." "Too many witnesses," Zeke nodded. "Exactly. I needed to be invisible in more ways than one," she continued. "So I waited until nightfall. Getting past the night guardians was tricky, those gargoyles don''t sleep, but I managed to make myself look like a mouse." "You can do that?" Zeke asked, impressed despite himself. "One of the first illusions I learned," Elise replied with a hint of pride. "The gargoyles came to investigate a noise I made, and when they opened the door, I slipped in. After they locked up again, I was free to search." "Smart," Zeke acknowledged. "What did you find?" "Not much at first," Elise admitted. "I went through his desk drawers carefully, nothing suspicious. Checked a storage closet in the back, just teaching supplies and some old robes. I was about to give up when the door suddenly flew open." Zeke tensed. "Someone caught you?" "Almost," Elise said, her eyes wide at the memory. "I was in the corner and managed to make myself invisible just in time. Some man came in with a torch, muttering about ''having to do everything himself.''" "Did you recognize him?" "I was too terrified to get a good look," she confessed. "But here''s the interesting part, he opened a hidden compartment in the desk, one I''d completely missed. There was a false bottom in one of the drawers." "And?" Zeke prompted when she paused. "And it was filled with notebooks," Elise replied, flipping a page in her own book. "Once he left, I investigated. Most were written in code, but I managed to copy down the important parts." She pointed to a series of notes. "First, he had a membership list for what I assume is the cult. Twenty names total, but they''re all code names, Emperor, Tree, Lake, Ocean, Cloud, and so on." "Not very helpful," Zeke frowned. "That''s what I thought too," Elise nodded. "But then I realized ''Emperor'' had a note beside it saying he was ''compromised'' and banned from future meetings." Zeke''s eyes widened. "Diocletian!" "Exactly!" Elise tapped the page excitedly. "You beaned him with a rock and he got discovered by the Academy guards, remember? And there was an ancient emperor named Diocletian in early Athian history." "So the code names are historical references?" Zeke asked, his mind racing. "Or mythological, or geographical, I''m still working it out," Elise replied. "But it''s a start." "What else?" Zeke pressed. "A list of targets," Elise said, her expression sobering as she turned to another page. "Going back decades. Some names have X''s next to them, others have check marks, and some are unmarked." "X means killed," Zeke guessed grimly. "Check marks?" "Disabled but not killed," Elise confirmed. "Your brother Artax has a check mark." The confirmation of what they''d suspected hit Zeke like a physical blow. His brother''s injury hadn''t been a tragic accident or the result of heroic sacrifice, it had been a deliberate act carried out by this cult. "So they were behind the dragon attack," he said, his voice hardening. "They sent him there knowing he''d be injured." "It looks that way," Elise agreed. "There were other notebooks too, detailed plots and plans, too heavily encoded for me to make sense of quickly. A meeting schedule, though I''m sure they''ll change it now." She flipped to another page, her expression shifting to something between excitement and dread. "And then I found this, a tracking log for the Eight Dragons of Calamity." "You''re kidding," Zeke breathed. "I wish I were," she replied. "A separate page for each dragon, with detailed notes on sightings, locations, and movement patterns. They''re calculating how fast each dragon moves from place to place." "Why would they track that?" Zeke wondered aloud. "I think they''re monitoring the dragons'' power levels," Elise explained. "Remember how we discussed that dragons ''waking'' or ''sleeping'' refers to their magical power rather than their physical state? Movement speed seems to be one way to measure that. Like how you can tell a child is healthy when they''re running around, but might be sick if they stay in one place all day." Zeke nodded slowly, processing this information. "So they''re watching the dragons get stronger." "Or helping them get stronger," Elise suggested. "The notebooks don''t say." Zeke leaned back in his chair, mind whirling with implications. "Did you find a name for the cult anywhere?" "Nothing," Elise shook her head. "No convenient ''Secret Registry of the Dragon Cult'' or anything helpful like that." "Of course not," Zeke sighed. "That would be too easy." Despite the seriousness of the situation, both of them smiled briefly at the absurdity of expecting such convenience. The moment passed quickly as Zeke returned to more pressing concerns. "You said earlier you weren''t exactly caught," he prompted. "What happened?" Elise''s expression fell. "That''s the part I''m worried about. After gathering all this information, I put everything back exactly as I found it and snuck out. But as I was leaving Tower 3, I literally bumped into someone in the corridor." "Who?" Zeke asked, tensing again. "I''m not sure, possibly the same man who came into the office earlier. He gave me the strangest look, like he couldn''t believe I was there," Elise explained. "I quickly made up a story about looking for Professor Jason''s office, he teaches an advanced spell theory class I''m interested in. The man seemed to accept it and walked away, but..." "But you think he was suspicious," Zeke finished. "I know he was," Elise confirmed. "Ever since then, I''ve felt like I''m being watched. Nothing obvious, just students appearing wherever I go, professors asking unusual questions. And now Jack and his friend following us..." "If they knew for certain you''d found something, you''d be in serious danger by now," Zeke reasoned. "They must be suspicious but not sure." "That''s what I figured," Elise nodded. "Which is why I''ve been so careful. I kept all my notes on me constantly and acted completely normal." "Smart move," Zeke said approvingly. "So what''s our next step?" "I need to decode this list," Elise replied, tapping her notebook. "If we can identify who''s in this cult, we might understand what they''re planning." "I can help," Zeke began. "Better if I work alone," Elise interrupted gently. "The fewer people handling this information, the better. Besides," she added with a slight smile, "Ralph seems like the type who wouldn''t hesitate to go through your desk if he thought it might be interesting." "You''re not wrong there," Zeke admitted with a rueful laugh. "Alright, you keep the list. But be careful, Elise. I never should have gotten you involved in this." "I got myself involved," she corrected him firmly. "And I''m not backing out now. We''re friends, Zeke. Friends help each other, especially when cultists and dragons are involved." Her matter-of-fact determination reminded Zeke why he''d come to respect her so much. Where others might have run from danger, Elise faced it with quiet courage and practical solutions. "Thank you," he said simply. "I mean it." They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Elise stood. "We should head back before curfew. But we need to be careful, Jack and his friend might still be looking for us." Zeke nodded and moved to the lion entrance, peering through the periscope to check the library. After confirming the immediate area was clear, he turned back to Elise. "Wait," she said before he could pull the lever. "I have an idea." They slipped out of the hidden room and crept through the bookshelves, staying low and moving quietly. Near the front desk, they spotted Jack and another student, a tall, muscular boy in House Byron colors, scanning the library with obvious frustration. "That''s him!" Elise whispered, pointing to the Byron student. "The one I bumped into that night." Zeke nodded, committing the face to memory. Then, following Elise''s lead, they slipped into a small study alcove not far from where the two boys were searching. After a few moments of silence, Zeke let out an exaggerated laugh. "That''s ridiculous!" "Sorry, sorry!" Elise joined in, her fake laughter convincingly natural. "I know, I shouldn''t make fun of things like that, but you have to admit..." From the corner of his eye, Zeke saw Jack spin around, nudging his companion. The Byron student swatted him and gestured toward their alcove. Both boys crept closer, trying to peer through the bookshelves. Zeke and Elise continued their manufactured conversation for another minute until they spotted their followers retreating toward the exit, apparently satisfied they''d located their quarry. "Good plan," Zeke murmured as the library door swung shut behind the boys. "Back home, we dealt with bandits and nosy neighbors," Elise replied with a shrug. "You learn a few tricks." They waited another few minutes before rising and making their way to the exit. The library had grown even quieter, with only a handful of dedicated students still hunched over books in distant corners. "Cooking class on Thursday?" Elise asked as they reached the main hallway, her voice returned to normal volume. "Wouldn''t miss it," Zeke confirmed with a grin. As they parted ways, Zeke found himself facing mixed emotions. The information Elise had uncovered was troubling, confirmation that a dangerous cult was operating within the Academy, targeting his family, and somehow involved with the Eight Dragons. Yet alongside this concern was a curious sense of determination. The mystery was beginning to unravel, revealing threads he could follow. And he wasn''t facing it alone. Between Elise''s intelligence, Artax''s support, and his own growing skills, they had a fighting chance to uncover the truth, whatever it might be. Walking back to his dormitory, Zeke suddenly remembered the box Artax had given him. He quickened his pace, curious what his brother''s "graduation gift" might contain. Whatever challenges lay ahead, having a piece of home with him couldn''t hurt. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning [Active Quests:] [Head Down: Stay out of the cult''s line of sight] [Codex: Help Elise decipher the notebook] [Mystery Box: Examine Artax''s gift] 48. Buried Beneath [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Estate - Training Woods] [Date: March 30, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] For the next week, life at the Academy settled back into its familiar rhythm. Zeke threw himself into classes and training with renewed energy. His brief vacation in the Capital had been a welcome break, but now it was time to get back to work. The Mountain Run loomed on the horizon, and if it was anything like his previous trials, he needed every advantage he could get. Not to mention the fact that there would be countless ways for someone to take a shot at him while he was alone on a mountain. That challenge would require all his wits and strength, and he intended to be ready. "Faster!" Ingrid''s voice cut through the cool morning air as Zeke tore through the Training Woods. His lungs burned and sweat poured down his face despite the chill. The weighted vest and ankle weights she''d strapped to him felt like they were made of solid lead. "Veer left! See that fallen trunk? You''re going over it." Zeke swerved in the direction she indicated. A massive oak lay across the path, its trunk nearly as tall as his waist. He pushed his burning muscles harder, charging at the obstacle. "No hesitating!" Ingrid snapped from behind him. "It''s cold up there, remember? Stop moving, and you''ll freeze solid within minutes! That''s a boulder that fell across your path, and it doesn''t care that you''re tired. It doesn''t care that it''s cold! What are you going to do?" Gritting his teeth, Zeke launched himself at the fallen tree. He slammed his hands down on the rough bark, muscles straining as he vaulted himself over. His landing wasn''t graceful, more of a controlled stumble, but he was up and running again in seconds. "Not bad," Ingrid called, easily keeping pace, "but you can improve. What if there had been a cliff on the other side of that boulder? You''d be tumbling down five hundred feet of slate knives, torn to bits upon the ice and stone. Figure out how to do it better!" "You''re... really... annoying... when you''re... in charge," Zeke managed between gasps for air, but there was no real bite to his words. In truth, he appreciated her pushing him. "I come by it honestly," she shot back with a grin. "Now move!" They continued their breakneck pace through the woods, weaving between ancient trees as the morning sun climbed higher. Finally, after what felt like hours, Ingrid signaled for them to stop. Zeke staggered to a halt, chest heaving. "No, don''t just stop. Walk it off, or you''ll cramp." "Right," Zeke nodded, forcing his shaking legs to keep moving. He paced in slow circles around a large oak tree while Ingrid dropped to the ground and leaned against its trunk, looking up at the budding leaves overhead. When he''d finally caught his breath, he collapsed beside her. "I''m starting to see why you were able to become so good with aura control," she said after a moment. "I''m going to be honest, when you trained for a few months and were suddenly good enough to manage that stunt you pulled off, I just figured you were naturally gifted or something. Watching you train to run? I can see your dedication. It''s impressive. Keep up the good work." "Thanks," Zeke said, genuinely pleased by the rare compliment. "I appreciate it." "Oh, they''re not just kind words. You''re really doing a very good job." She stretched her arms overhead. "You actually remind me of my younger brother sometimes, stubborn as a mule, but in the good way." "You have a brother?" Zeke asked, realizing he knew almost nothing about Ingrid''s family. "Two, actually. Both training with House Stormhall''s military units back home." A fond smile briefly crossed her face before she changed the subject. "Remember that dungeon I was planning to dig into?" Zeke nodded. "Yeah, the one from before. Have you made any progress? You were going to work on it during the break after Spring Festival, right?" "That was the plan. Wound up not happening, though." She shrugged. "Got called to do a weeklong project for one of my leadership classes. I guess that''s what happens when you''re an upperclassman." She flashed a smile at him. "Anyway, I was thinking of heading out into the woods this weekend to give it another shot. Want to come along?" "You want me there?" Zeke asked, surprised. "Why not? You helped me find the place last time." She straightened up, brushing dirt from her training clothes. "We''ll head out after classes on Friday, spend the night, and start digging first thing in the morning. Should be fun." "I have to say, your version of fun and mine are very different," Zeke laughed. "But yeah, I''m in. Where should we meet?" "The gate to the Training Woods," she replied. "I''ll bring the camping gear. Show up as soon as your Swordsmanship class is done?" "I''ll be there," Zeke promised, already looking forward to it. The idea of exploring an abandoned dungeon seemed like the perfect distraction from the looming trial and the other complications in his life. Besides, he''d always wanted to find buried treasure since he was a kid, and wasn''t that what dungeons were for? When Friday afternoon finally arrived, Zeke rushed through his post-Swordsmanship cleanup. As he dried off his sweat, he caught sight of Ingrid already making her way toward the Training Woods, a large pack slung over her shoulder. He quickly said goodbye to Victoria and jogged after his friend, catching up just as she reached the gate. "Perfect timing," Ingrid said, immediately tossing him her pack. "Here." "What''s this?" he gasped as the weight hit him. The bag felt like it was filled with stones. "You''re doing the Mountain Run with chains, right? Here''s some more practice. Come on." Before he could protest, she took off through the woods at a steady jog. Zeke adjusted the straps on the impossibly heavy pack and followed, determined not to fall behind. The weight was even more punishing than the training weights they''d used earlier that week. The pack dug into his shoulders, and each step required twice the effort. Still, he kept pace, focusing on his breathing the way Professor Gilda had taught him. Despite the strain, there was something exhilarating about pushing his limits like this, seeing how much stronger he''d become since his first days at the academy. After about an hour of grueling travel, they arrived at the old dungeon entrance. Ingrid immediately began surveying the area while Zeke gratefully dropped the pack. "And we''re here," he said, stretching his aching shoulders. After catching his breath, a thought occurred to him. "Ingrid?" "Yeah?" she replied distractedly, examining the ground around the dungeon''s entrance. "What happens if the guy who tried to kill me comes back?" The question had been lurking in the back of his mind, but he hadn''t wanted to voice it until now. "He''ll die," Ingrid answered matter-of-factly, pulling a small metallic throwing star from her pocket and dropping it onto the ground. "It''s an automatic sentry. Kinda dangerous since it can kill friend as well as foe, but excellent protection when you''re in an area where there are no friendlies around." She gestured to the pack. "Help me set up camp, would you?" "Sure thing," Zeke nodded, his curiosity piqued. "How do those work anyway?" "House Stormhall specialty," she explained as they began unpacking. "They''re enchanted to detect rapid movement and respond with a burst of lightning. Anything moving faster than a casual walk within ten feet gets zapped." "Remind me not to get up for a midnight snack," Zeke joked. They set up a single tent, Ingrid explained it was safer to stay together in case of attack, and placed sentries in a protective ring around their campsite. By the time they had a small fire going, the sun was setting. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. They ate a simple meal of hard bread, dried meat, and cheese, discussing their plan for the morning. "The ground looks soft enough," Ingrid observed, "but we might hit rock eventually. I brought pickaxes just in case." "How deep do you think we''ll need to go?" Zeke asked. "Hard to say. These old training dungeons weren''t built to any standard pattern. Could be ten feet down, could be twenty." She poked the fire with a stick. "We''ll just have to dig and see." As night fell completely, they retreated to the tent. Despite the proximity, Zeke kept respectfully to his side, and Ingrid to hers. As he lay in his sleeping bag, staring up at the tent fabric, he found himself strangely alert. Every rustle in the woods outside, every distant animal call had him tensing, expecting an attack. "Relax," Ingrid''s voice came through the darkness. "The sentries work. I''ve used them dozens of times." "How did you know I was awake?" "You breathe differently when you''re tense," she replied. "Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow''s going to be hard work." Zeke closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing the way he did during aura training. Eventually, the sounds of the forest faded, and he drifted off. Morning came with a chorus of birdsong and pale sunlight filtering through the tent fabric. To Zeke''s relief, all the sentries remained undisturbed, no midnight assassins had tried their luck. After a quick breakfast, they retrieved the shovels from Ingrid''s pack and set to work. "We''ll start here, at the edge of the cobblestones," Ingrid said, driving her shovel into the soft earth. "The dungeon entrance should be somewhere below us." Zeke felt a rush of excitement as dirt began to fly. This was real adventure, not the life-threatening kind that seemed to follow him lately, but the fun kind he''d dreamed about as a boy. "We''ll take shifts," Ingrid explained as she dug. "At least until we get deeper. This is going to take work, but I think we''re both up for it." She quickly cleared a hole about a foot deep and four feet across. Then she began digging downward, carefully deepening the pit with each shovelful. When she reached about three feet down, they brought out a bucket with a rope tied to the handle. "We''ll use this to haul up the dirt," she explained. "Trust me, it''s much easier than trying to throw it up and out." Zeke wasn''t convinced but nodded anyway. When his turn came thirty minutes later, he understood immediately. While driving the shovel into the dirt wasn''t difficult (except when they hit tree roots), lifting each heavy load upward grew exhausting quickly. The bucket system saved precious energy. He threw himself into the work with enthusiasm, treating it as just another form of training. Each shovelful brought them closer to whatever mysteries lay below, and the thought kept him going even as his muscles began to protest. By noon, they had dug down to head-height, making it almost impossible to climb out without help. They took a brief break for lunch, sitting at the edge of their excavation with their legs dangling into the pit. "Not bad progress," Ingrid observed, passing Zeke a water flask. "But we''ll need to go deeper." "How do you know there''s even anything down there?" Zeke asked between gulps of water. "What if this is just a wild goose chase?" "Call it intuition," she replied, her eyes gleaming with determination. "Plus, I found some old academy records that mentioned a training facility in this area. I think we''re right on top of it." After lunch, they returned to digging with renewed vigor. Taking turns in the hole, they steadily worked their way deeper into the earth. By mid-afternoon, they had reached nearly ten feet down. "Alright!" Ingrid called up from the bottom of the pit. "I think we''re deep enough to start digging sideways. We should hit stone soon, then we''ll switch to pickaxes." With some careful maneuvering, they traded places. Zeke began carving into the dirt wall, channeling a small amount of aura into his arms to help power through the increasingly dense soil. Soon, he had hollowed out an arch one foot deep, then two, then three. His shovel suddenly struck something solid with a loud clang. "I hit stone!" he called up excitedly. "Perfect!" Ingrid replied. "Keep going!" They spent another half-hour exposing the stone in a roughly doorway-sized section. Switching to pickaxes, they attacked the barrier with methodical precision. The work was harder than digging, but produced less debris to haul away. After what felt like an eternity of chipping away, Zeke''s pickaxe broke through. A small hole appeared, releasing a puff of stale, musty air. "I''m through!" he shouted, unable to contain his excitement. "Don''t go in yet!" Ingrid warned. "We need to make the opening bigger, could be anything waiting on the other side." They widened the breach until it was large enough for a person to step through comfortably. By now it was approaching sunset, and they were covered in dirt from head to toe, but neither of them felt tired anymore. The thrill of discovery had washed away their fatigue. Ingrid lit a torch and held it high as they stepped through the opening together. They found themselves about five feet above the floor of a large, stone chamber. The ceiling arched nearly twenty feet overhead, and several passages led away from the main room, though most appeared to be collapsed not far from the entrance. The room itself was coated in dust and cobwebs. Rotting wooden chairs lay scattered about, and rusted chains with handcuffs hung from the walls, remnants of the chamber''s original purpose as a training ground for future knights. But what caught their attention immediately was the large wooden chest sitting against one wall. "A treasure chest," Zeke breathed, his eyes wide with wonder. This was straight out of the adventure stories he''d loved as a child. "Hold on," Ingrid cautioned, drawing her sword. "It could be a mimic." "A what?" Zeke asked, not familiar with the term. "A monster that disguises itself as a chest," she explained. "Old dungeon defense mechanism. They were popular centuries ago." She approached carefully, prodding the chest with her sword. When nothing happened, she jabbed it harder, then finally gave it a solid whack. A hollow boom echoed through the chamber. "Seems real enough," she declared, lowering her sword. "Let''s get it open." Zeke grabbed the pickaxe, and together they wedged it through the lock. After some careful maneuvering and a few moments of tense effort, the ancient lock broke clean off. "Moment of truth," Ingrid said, gripping the lid''s handle. "Empty or full of treasure?" "This was an Academy training dungeon," Zeke reminded her pragmatically. "I doubt they''d leave actual gold lying around." "Fair point," she conceded. "Still, might be something useful." With a dramatic flourish, she pulled open the lid. The rusty hinges squeaked in protest, and both of them leaned forward eagerly to peer inside. "Whoa," Zeke breathed. "Whoa indeed," Ingrid echoed. The chest contained a collection of gemstones that glowed with magical energy. Five blue gems and five green ones lay neatly arranged, with a single red gem and a golden one placed in the center. Zeke reached in and picked up one of the green stones. It felt warm against his palm, pulsing with a gentle rhythm like a heartbeat. ¡¸???????? ??????. ???????? ??¡¹ "What''s an Aura Gem?" he asked, turning it over curiously. "Something that hasn''t existed in centuries," Ingrid replied with a low whistle. She picked up one of the blue gems. "Looks like the blues are Rank C, the greens are Rank B. They store concentrated aura energy that you can tap into when needed, like having an extra reserve of power for emergencies." "Why don''t they still exist?" Zeke asked, studying the gem''s internal light. "They''re created by powerful mages," Ingrid explained. "You basically just condense a bunch of magic together until it forms one of these. The problem is, if you''re not experienced enough, activating an Aura Gem can burn you up from the inside out. Same thing can happen if you activate one that''s too powerful for your rank." "Sounds dangerous," Zeke observed, though he couldn''t help feeling excited about their find. "They fell out of favor after too many apprentices got themselves killed trying to use master-level gems," Ingrid continued. "The Academy probably had these for special training scenarios." Zeke bent down and carefully picked up the golden gem. Unlike the others, this one didn''t pulse, it seemed to shimmer instead, as if light were dancing across its surface. ¡¸???????????? ??????. ???????? ??¡¹ "Emblem Gem?" Zeke asked, raising an eyebrow. "Similar concept, but instead of raw aura, it contains an Emblem," Ingrid replied, examining the red gem she''d picked up. "Much safer than Aura Gems, but people eventually decided it was more efficient to transfer Emblems directly from person to person. That way, powerful Emblems don''t end up in the wrong hands." Zeke turned the golden gem over in his palm, feeling its power. "So these were rewards for completing this dungeon?" "That would be my guess," Ingrid nodded. "Hidden prizes for students who showed exceptional skill." She looked up at him with a grin. "Split it 50-50?" "Deal," Zeke agreed. They divided the spoils evenly. Zeke took two green gems and three blue ones, tucking them carefully into an inner pocket of his jacket. Then he held up the golden Emblem Gem, glancing at Ingrid, who held the red one. "Shall we?" he asked, feeling like a kid about to open a gift. "Together," she nodded. They activated the gems simultaneously. Brilliant light exploded through the chamber, temporarily blinding them both. Heat raced up Zeke''s arm, and he yelped in momentary pain before the sensation faded. ¡¸?????? ???????? ???????????????? ???? ????????????!¡¹ ¡¾New Emblem: Golden Touch¡¿ ¡¾Details: +500% Luck for 1 Hour¡¿ "Luck?" Zeke frowned, staring at the notification. "I didn''t even know that was a stat." Ingrid blinked in surprise. "You got a Luck stat? That''s another relic from the past! I think the Luck stat was decommissioned something like eight hundred years ago. Not sure why, but that''s hilarious!" "Glad you''re amused," Zeke said, though he couldn''t help smiling. "What did you get?" In answer, Ingrid held up her hands. They suddenly burst into bright orange flames that licked up to her elbows without seeming to harm her. "Fire Hands!" "Show-off," Zeke laughed, though without any real envy. He was genuinely happy for her, she''d been the one who found this place, after all. Besides, who knew? Maybe the Luck Emblem would come in handy. "Want to explore the rest of this place while we''re here?" he suggested, gesturing toward the passages leading from the main chamber. "Most of them look collapsed," Ingrid observed, extinguishing her flaming hands with a thought. "But we could check the one on the left, it seems to go farther than the others." They spent the next hour examining every corner of the dungeon. The left passage led to a small room that might once have been an armory, though all that remained were empty weapon racks and a few scraps of rusted metal. They found old training dummies in another chamber, so decayed that they crumbled at a touch. In the last intact room, Zeke discovered a faded mural painted on the wall. Though centuries of moisture had damaged much of it, he could still make out the image of knights fighting what appeared to be a massive dragon. "Think that''s one of the Eight Dragons?" he asked, running his fingers over the ancient paint. "Could be," Ingrid replied. "This place is older than most of the Academy buildings. Might date back to the early days after the dragons were first defeated." By the time they finished exploring, daylight was fading. They climbed back up through their tunnel, collected their camping gear, and began the trek back to the Academy. "We should keep this place a secret," Ingrid suggested as they walked. "At least until we''ve had a chance to use our gems." "Agreed," Zeke nodded. "Though I''m not sure what good a luck boost will do me." "You never know," Ingrid replied with a mysterious smile. "Luck has a funny way of showing up when you need it most." As they approached the gates of Leoncrest, the evening sky darkening above them, Zeke felt a rare sense of uncomplicated happiness. For one day, he hadn''t worried about trials or assassins or mysterious cults. He''d simply been a student on an adventure, digging for treasure with a friend. Whatever challenges awaited him tomorrow, and he knew there would be many, at least he had this day to remember. Sometimes, even in the midst of danger and destiny, it was good to remember why adventures were worth having in the first place. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning, Golden Touch [Active Quests:] [Diggy Diggy Hole: Exit the Dungeon] 49. Encounter
[Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Estate - Training Woods] [Date: April 5, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] After returning to the Academy, Zeke found it hard not to tell everyone about their underground treasure. He wanted to burst into the dining hall and announce their discovery to the world. Who wouldn''t want to hear about ancient magical gems hidden in forgotten dungeons? But Ingrid made him promise to keep quiet, except for Victoria and Elise. "If word gets out," she''d warned him, "the forest will turn into one massive treasure hunt. Every student with a shovel will be digging holes, hoping to strike it rich." Zeke understood the logic, though it didn''t make keeping the secret any easier. He showed Victoria and Elise the Aura gems that night in their private study room, carefully unwrapping them from the cloth he''d stored them in. "These are incredible," Victoria had whispered, holding one of the blue gems up to the candlelight. "I''ve only read about these in ancient texts." "Can I try one?" Elise had asked eagerly, but Ingrid quickly intervened. "Not unless you want to risk burning yourself from the inside out," she''d cautioned. "These aren''t toys." Beyond their small circle, no one knew about their discovery, not even Ralph, who would have certainly found a way to monetize the information. Classes resumed, and everything seemed to go back to normal. Except... it didn''t. Three days after their dungeon adventure, Zeke was on his morning run through the Training Woods. He''d chosen an old stone statue near the eastern ridge as his turnaround point, a weathered monument to some forgotten hero, now serving as Zeke''s personal milestone. As he rounded a bend in the trail, he caught a glimpse of movement in his peripheral vision. Someone was standing between the trees, not approaching or attacking, just... watching. When Zeke turned to look directly, the figure was gone. The next evening, as he gazed out his dormitory window before bed, he spotted a dark silhouette moving along the outer wall, keeping to the shadows. The figure paused once, as if sensing Zeke''s gaze, then continued on its way. During Swordsmanship class the following day, he noticed someone peering through the gate of the training yard. By the time Victoria called for a water break and he had a chance to investigate, whoever it was had vanished. He tried to convince himself it was just his imagination, after all, surviving an assassination attempt would make anyone jumpy. But when he and Ingrid were running sprint drills the next morning, she suddenly cut their session short. "We''re going to head in," she murmured quietly. Then, much louder for anyone listening: "You look a bit sick, Godfrey! Let''s get you inside before you really knock yourself out!" Once they were out of earshot of the training grounds, she leaned in close. "There''s someone about three hundred feet off, watching from behind that cluster of pines. He''s been there a while. Not doing anything, but... I don''t know. I''d feel safer getting back inside the walls." Zeke nodded, grateful he wasn''t just being paranoid. The following day at lunch, he dropped onto the bench at their usual table. Elise slid in beside him, while Victoria took her seat across from them. Before any of their usual mealtime chatter could begin, Victoria leaned forward with a concerned frown. "Hey, do you know what''s wrong with Ingrid? Ever since you two got back from that dungeon expedition, she''s been acting strange. This morning she headed into the woods, muttering something about finding something." "Someone, probably," Zeke sighed, taking a bite of his bread. "We''re being watched." He quickly filled them in on the suspicious sightings of the past few days. When he finished, Elise whacked him on the arm. "And you didn''t think to tell us?" she scowled. "We could have been helping you!" "I don''t disagree," Victoria said, twirling pasta around her fork. "Ingrid is many things, but a one-woman army isn''t one of them. Whatever she''s planning, it would be better if we all went together." Zeke blinked. "So... you''re saying you''ll help me?" "Of course," Elise rolled her eyes. "Did you think we wouldn''t? The question is how." "Leave that to me," Victoria said, her brow furrowing in concentration. "When you were attacked before, I started thinking about defensive strategies. Give me until the end of Swordsmanship today. I should have a plan by then." "Thanks," Zeke said with genuine relief. "I appreciate it more than you know." Throughout Swordsmanship class that afternoon, Zeke found it difficult to focus. Victoria seemed equally distracted, occasionally missing steps or giving incorrect instructions. Their classmates exchanged confused glances, Victoria Reinfir never made mistakes, but no one dared question her. As class ended, Zeke could see her eyes had taken on that determined gleam that meant she''d reached a decision. "I know what we''re going to do," she said quietly as they gathered their equipment. "Don''t ask for my full reasoning, but I want you to head into the forest like you''re going for your normal run. Go about a quarter mile, then act tired and turn back. Understand? After that, go straight to your room, I don''t want whoever''s watching to see us together. Tomorrow morning, skip my class and do your run instead." "You''re sure?" Zeke frowned. "Just trust me," Victoria insisted. "Let''s hope whatever Ingrid''s doing doesn''t interfere." As it turned out, Ingrid''s plans didn''t interfere, largely because Zeke literally ran into her as he stepped through the Training Woods gate. She was just returning, her robes covered in burrs and twigs, looking like she''d fought her way through the densest parts of the forest. "You okay?" Zeke asked. "Victoria''s worried about you." "I''m fine," Ingrid shrugged, picking leaves from her hair. "Just leaving our little friend a welcome-home gift for when he returns to his hideout." "You found one of his hideouts?" Zeke''s jaw dropped in amazement. "Yup," she grinned, looking proud of herself. "Right now, he''s off in the Dark Forest. I managed to trick him into following me there, then gave him the slip around noon." "If you haven''t seen him since then, he could be anywhere by now," Zeke pointed out. "I suppose that''s possible," Ingrid admitted. "Unlikely, though. I trapped him in an old hunting pit. He''ll think twice about messing with us after this." You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Zeke sighed. "You should talk to Victoria. She''s working on something." Ingrid nodded and headed inside. If she was right about trapping their stalker, then there was no point in his planned run. But if she was wrong, and the man had escaped, he''d be in a vengeful mood. The next morning, Zeke woke early. Victoria hadn''t contacted him to call off the plan, so he assumed they were still going ahead with it. He dressed quickly in his training clothes, stretching his muscles as he prepared for whatever lay ahead. "Dude, you''re insane," Ralph muttered from his bed. "Just so you know." "With you telling me every single day, how could I possibly forget?" Zeke replied with a grin. Ralph just laughed and rolled over, pulling the blanket over his head. Zeke slipped down to the dining hall for a quick breakfast. Ingrid sat alone at a corner table, and gave him a single nod when their eyes met. He hoped that meant the plan was still on. With a piece of bread in hand, he headed out toward the Training Woods. The morning was cool and damp, dew clinging to every blade of grass. Mist hung between the trees, giving the forest an otherworldly quality as the rising sun streamed through in golden shafts. Zeke pushed open the gate with its familiar rusty squeak and paused just inside. Taking a deep breath, he whispered, "Activate Golden Touch." ¡¸???????????? ?????????? ?????? ???????? ??????????????????¡¹ ¡¾Luck has been increased 500%¡¿ Nothing seemed to happen. No glow, no magical sensation, no sudden feeling of being blessed by fortune. Just the same old Zeke in the same old woods. "Worth a shot," he shrugged. Ingrid had said the skill was defunct anyway, an abandoned stat from centuries ago. He started down the path, alert for any sign of Victoria''s plan in action. Whiz! A knife flashed through the air directly in front of his face. It missed him by half an inch, burying itself in a tree trunk with a solid thunk. Zeke''s heart lurched as he spun toward the source of the attack. A man stepped out from behind a tree about twenty feet away, dressed in the same camouflaged gear as the assassin who''d attacked him months ago. His face was covered by a mask made to resemble forest foliage, with only a narrow slit for his eyes. The attacker raised his hand, three more knives gleaming between his fingers. Without hesitation, he threw them in rapid succession. Zit! Slash! Thwap! All three blades somehow missed, though they came close enough that two of them sliced through Zeke''s robes. He stumbled backward, more shocked than frightened. "That was lucky!" Victoria''s voice rang out as she burst from the underbrush, racing toward the attacker with her sword drawn. "Tell me about it," Zeke muttered, drawing his own weapon and charging after her. Every instinct screamed at him to run the other direction, but that clearly wasn''t the plan. Whatever Victoria had cooked up, it involved confronting this threat head-on. The masked man watched them approach for a moment, then turned and sprinted deeper into the woods. He was fast, much faster than either of them, and quickly began to pull away. Suddenly, a sharp cry rang out, and the man stumbled over something in his path. He went down hard, tumbling through ferns and undergrowth. As he scrambled to his feet, Elise stepped out from behind a massive oak, a ball of fire already forming between her hands. "Surprise," she said, launching the fireball directly at his face. The man raised his hand, activating a shield Emblem that blocked the fireball just inches from his skin. The flames dispersed harmlessly against the invisible barrier. He stood, only to jerk sideways as an arrow struck him in the shoulder. The arrow didn''t penetrate, it seemed to hit some sort of armor beneath his clothing, but the impact made him spin around as Ingrid emerged from the trees, already nocking another arrow. "So you have me surrounded," he muttered, his voice distorted by some kind of magical field. "What now?" The four students formed a circle around him, weapons at the ready. Zeke gripped his sword tightly, watching the man''s every movement. Elise had another fireball prepared, Victoria had her blade poised for a strike, and Ingrid''s bowstring was drawn taut. Zeke studied the attacker more closely. The mask was more elaborate than he''d first thought, not just leaves and sticks, but some kind of living plant matter woven into a face covering. The eye slit revealed nothing but darkness, and there was something unnatural about the way he moved, too fluid and precise. "You either surrender and come with us, or we fight," Victoria declared, raising her sword slightly higher. "Fight with you? Four against one?" The man gave a distorted laugh. "I would grind your bones like wheat. You''re good, the best of the Academy, but you are still only students." "Really? Then why are you here talking instead of fighting?" Zeke demanded. "Why do you keep trying to kill me?" "There are some things you do not want answered," the man snapped. "You have done more damage than you know, Zeke de''Godfrey. You must pay for your crimes." "Then kill me now," Zeke challenged, stepping forward. Something about the man''s words struck him as odd, what crimes could he possibly have committed? He''d only been at the Academy for a few months. Without another word, the attacker moved. His hand flashed toward another knife, but as he tried to throw it, the blade slipped from his fingers and fell harmlessly to the ground. In that same instant, Elise launched her fireball while Ingrid released her arrow. The coordinated attack should have been devastating. But the man was too skilled. He spun and somehow caught the fireball in his shield Emblem, redirecting it toward Victoria. The flaming projectile struck her squarely in the chest, knocking her backward with a grunt of pain. The arrow he simply dodged by leaning forward, letting it whistle past behind him. Before any of them could react further, he turned and sprinted away, weaving between trees with inhuman speed. Ingrid quickly nocked another arrow, but by the time she took aim, he was almost out of sight. She fired anyway, her arrow disappearing into the forest. "Well, that didn''t tell us much," Zeke sighed, sheathing his sword. "No, it didn''t," Victoria agreed, slowly climbing back to her feet. Her armor was scorched but intact. "Still, maybe it taught him a lesson. We''re not just going to let him pick us off one by one. Hopefully he''ll think twice next time." "You''re only alive because you got super lucky," Elise said, glaring at Zeke. "You need to be more..." Her voice trailed off, eyes widening. "Super lucky. Oh! That''s actually really cool! The skill really works!" "Either it works, or some days are just like that," Ingrid shrugged, clapping Zeke on the shoulder. "Come on, let''s get back inside. We all have classes, and I''d rather not be around when professors start asking questions." As they walked back toward the Academy, Zeke found himself puzzling over the encounter. The man had said he''d "done more damage than he knew", but what did that mean? Was it about the dungeon they''d discovered? The cult activities they''d been investigating? And why, when he clearly had the skills to harm them, did he run instead? Something about the whole situation felt off, as if they were missing a crucial piece of information. "Thinking hard?" Victoria asked, falling into step beside him. "Just trying to make sense of it all," Zeke admitted. "He could have killed us, or at least tried harder. Instead, he ran." "I noticed that too," Victoria nodded. "It''s almost like he''s under orders not to kill you, just to scare you." "Or maybe he''s testing you," Elise suggested, joining their conversation. "Seeing how you react, how strong you are." "Whatever his game is, we need to be ready next time," Ingrid declared. "And there will be a next time." They passed through the Academy gates, where students were hurrying to morning classes. No one paid them any special attention, four friends returning from early training wasn''t an unusual sight. As they reached the central courtyard, they reluctantly split up for their respective classes. Before they parted, Zeke thanked them all. "I don''t know what I''d do without you three," he said sincerely. "Probably get yourself killed," Ingrid replied with a smirk, but there was genuine affection in her eyes. Victoria squeezed his arm. "We stick together. That''s what friends do." "Besides," Elise added with a smile, "your adventures are never boring." As Zeke headed toward his History of Athia class, he was struck by how much had changed since his arrival at Leoncrest. He''d come here expecting to face the 34 Trials alone, to carry the burden of House Godfrey by himself. Instead, he''d found allies who stood beside him against not just the trials, but mysterious assassins and ancient conspiracies. Whatever the masked attacker''s reasons, whatever "crimes" Zeke had supposedly committed, he wouldn''t face them alone. That evening, as he sat cross-legged on his bed, Zeke carefully examined one of the blue Aura gems he''d recovered from the dungeon. Its gentle pulsing matched his heartbeat, as if the ancient magic were somehow attuning itself to him. "What are you going to do with those?" Ralph asked from across the room, where he was carving intricate patterns into a wooden box. "Not sure yet," Zeke replied, not mentioning that he had more than just the one gem. "Probably save it for when I really need it." "Smart," Ralph nodded. "The best weapons are the ones your enemies don''t know about." Zeke wrapped the gem back in its cloth and tucked it into a hidden pocket he''d sewn into his tunic. Tomorrow he would need to begin experimenting with his unusual new Emblem. If Golden Touch really had saved him from those knives, it might be far more valuable than he''d initially thought. After all, in the trials that lay ahead, a little luck could go a long way. ¡¸???????????? ?????????? ????????????:¡¹ ¡¾Active Time Remaining: 52 minutes¡¿ ¡¾Current Luck Modifier: +500%¡¿ As he drifted off to sleep that night, one thought kept circling in his mind: if luck had saved him today, how could he use it tomorrow? The possibilities were as endless as they were exciting. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning, Golden Touch [Active Quests:] [You Feeling Lucky?: Run experiments to see if the Golden Touch skill actually works or not.] 50. Tensions [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Estate - Tower 1] [Date: April 15, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] From that point onward, life more or less began to return to normal. There were no more sightings of the strange masked man, at least not among Zeke and his group of friends. Perhaps other people saw him, but Zeke had better things to focus on than chasing shadows. Classes were ramping up as the spring semester drew on, and he soon found himself facing far more pressing tasks than trying to ambush people in the woods. Sunlight streamed through the dormitory window as Zeke rolled out of bed, stretching his arms overhead until his shoulders popped. The morning air carried the fresh scent of spring, new grass, flowering trees, and the promise of warmer days ahead. He''d been up late completing assignments, but felt surprisingly energetic. "Alright," he said, grabbing his boots. "Let me think... I have a test in Aura Infusion today... and then I think there''s something in my history class..." Ralph was still buried under his blankets, only a tuft of hair visible. At Zeke''s voice, he rolled over and squinted at his roommate. "You have a paper due," Ralph commented, voice thick with sleep. "You put it on your desk so you wouldn''t forget about it." "Right!" Zeke snapped his fingers, spotting the stack of parchment on his desk. He''d spent hours perfecting it, determined to prove Professor Henwick wrong about House Godfrey''s role in the Borderland Disputes of 295. He crossed the room and scooped up the papers, removing the paperweights that had been holding them in place. Before they could get wrinkled, he clipped them together and tucked them securely into his pack. "Any chance you know what''s happening in my politics class?" he asked, running a hand through his hair. "I feel like it''s something important." "Nah, man." Ralph shrugged, propping himself up on one elbow. "Only reason I know about the paper is because you stayed up until like 2 in the morning working on it. You stress too much, you know that?" "Not stressing, preparing!" Zeke countered with a grin. "Can''t expect to beat the trials if I can''t even handle a few classes." Ralph rolled his eyes, but there was affection in the gesture. "Whatever you say, hero. Just try not to save the kingdom before breakfast, alright? Some of us need our beauty sleep." Zeke laughed and finished gathering his things. He splashed water on his face from the basin, smoothed down his academy robes, and slung his pack over his shoulder. The morning routine was becoming second nature now, a far cry from his fumbling first weeks at Leoncrest. The hallway outside was already bustling with activity as students rushed to morning training or grabbed early breakfast. Zeke dodged a group of first-years who seemed perpetually lost, offering a quick direction toward the dining hall as he passed. He arrived slightly late to Victoria''s training session, but she didn''t seem to mind. The central courtyard was filled with students moving in unison through sword forms, their wooden practice blades cutting through the morning air with precision. "Nice of you to join us, Godfrey," Victoria called as he slipped into formation. "We''re halfway through the third set." "Sorry," he mouthed, quickly finding his place in the routine. The workout was just as intense as usual, perhaps even slightly more so. As they drew closer to summer, everyone knew that the training sessions would soon be ending, and they wanted to get the most out of them while they could. Victoria called out the strikes in rapid succession, her voice barking orders in a staccato rhythm that pushed them to their limits. "Left! Right! Charge! Turn! Backstab! That''s it, keep it up!" Sweat poured down Zeke''s face as he executed each movement. His body had changed since arriving at Leoncrest, muscles harder, reflexes quicker, each motion more fluid than before. While he''d once struggled to keep up, now he moved confidently through even the most complex sequences. A group of professors paused at the edge of the courtyard to watch the session, nodding approvingly. Victoria, noticing their presence, pushed the group even harder. "Now the Dragontail Sequence! Begin!" They launched into the most difficult routine, a series of spins, parries, and strikes that mimicked the legendary fighting style of the Knights of Byron. Zeke felt his arms and legs burning with the effort, but kept pushing through, a fierce grin on his face. By the time the workout finished, he was utterly exhausted but exhilarated. "Good work today," Victoria said as they sheathed their practice swords. "Especially you, Godfrey. Your footwork is improving." Coming from Victoria, this qualified as effusive praise. Zeke beamed as he gathered his things, bidding her farewell before dashing inside. He grabbed a small bite to eat, an apple and a hunk of bread stuffed into his pocket, and made his way up to Aura Infusion. The classroom was already filling when he arrived, students chattering nervously about the upcoming test. Professor Gerald nodded to him as he slipped inside, and Zeke returned the gesture with a respectful bow. Though they had far fewer interactions now than at the beginning of his time there, they maintained a cordial relationship, particularly now that they were under far less scrutiny. Zeke found his usual seat beside Elise, who was nervously flipping through her notes. "Morning!" he greeted her cheerfully. "Ready for the test?" She gave him a pained look. "As ready as I''ll ever be. I practiced all week, but I still can''t get my aura to flow smoothly during transitions." "You''ll do great," he assured her, taking a bite of his apple. "Remember what Professor Gilda said about visualization? Picture the aura as water flowing through a stream, not as something you''re forcing." Elise nodded gratefully. "I''ll try that. Thanks." As they settled in, Professor Gerald stepped to the front of the class and clapped his hands for attention. The room immediately fell silent. "Good morning, everyone!" He smiled, but there was a glint in his eye that suggested today would be no easy session. "As I''m sure you all remember, we have a test today." Most of the class groaned. Zeke didn''t, but he also couldn''t deny a flutter of nervousness. While he''d improved dramatically, he never took any test for granted. "This is going to be a tough one for those of you who haven''t been paying attention," Professor Gerald continued, his voice sharp. "But it should prove fairly easy for everyone who''s been listening, and more importantly, who''s been practicing." A few students started to squirm in their seats. The professor turned and pulled an object from behind his desk, setting it on a small table at the front of the classroom. It was a single metal rod that arced upward from one end of a piece of polished mahogany, bent into a complex series of twists, turns, and knots, before plunging down into the other end of the wood. A single ring of metal encircled the rod, reminiscent of children''s puzzle toys that peddlers sold in village markets. "Your task today will be to move this ring from one end of the rod to the other," Professor Gerald explained. "You are allowed to touch the wood, and nothing more. I expect you to use your aura to manipulate the ring through the entire course without allowing it to fall or slam against the metal." He paused, letting the challenge sink in. "I should note that if you struggle with this, you would be wise to work extra-hard in preparation for the final exam. Those who fail today will have a second opportunity next week, worth half credit." Zeke studied the puzzle intently. The rod twisted and turned in unexpected ways, with several spots where the ring would need to be rotated precisely to navigate tight corners. Challenging, but not impossible, especially after the hours he''d spent with Professor Gilda refining his control. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Professor Gerald began calling students up one by one. Most approached with visible dread, hands shaking as they placed them on the wooden base. Success varied widely: some managed to move the ring smoothly, others clumsily banged it along the course, and a few failed entirely, unable to lift the ring at all. As they waited, Elise leaned over. "You''re going to pass this with your eyes closed," she whispered. "We''ll see," Zeke replied modestly, though he secretly agreed. "How about you? Still nervous?" "Terrified," she admitted. "I can summon fire and grow plants, but fine control like this..." She made a wobbling gesture with her hand. "Just breathe," he advised. "You''re overthinking it. The aura responds to intention more than technique." Around them, other students were exchanging last-minute tips or staring in silent panic at the testing apparatus. A girl three rows ahead looked close to tears, while two boys near the window were frantically practicing hand movements. "Do you think the Headmistress has forgotten about your trials?" Elise asked suddenly, changing the subject. "It''s been almost two months since the last one." "Not forgotten," Zeke replied, lowering his voice. "More likely she''s waiting for the right moment. Or maybe trying to figure out what happened with that strange interference during the Mountain Run." "Still no ideas about that?" "None," he shook his head. "But I''m not complaining about the break. Gives me more time to prepare for whatever comes next." "Elise Arvand," Professor Gerald called, interrupting their conversation. Elise paled slightly but squared her shoulders and made her way to the front of the room. Zeke gave her an encouraging thumbs-up as she sat down at the testing table. She took a deep breath, placed her hands on the wooden base, and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, her gaze was focused entirely on the metal ring. Slowly, it began to rise, wobbling slightly but maintaining its position. Zeke watched intently as she guided the ring through the first bend. It trembled at the corner but didn''t fall. The rest of the class had gone silent, everyone watching as Elise navigated the puzzle one careful section at a time. The ring clanged against the rod a few times, but largely moved through the challenge without major issues. When it finally reached the far side, a small smile of relief broke across her face. "Excellent," Professor Gerald nodded approvingly. He spoke a few words quietly to her, and she returned to her seat looking considerably happier. "What did he say?" Zeke whispered as another student stepped up for testing. "Just gave me some pointers on smoother transitions," she replied. "Said my focus was impressive." "Told you," Zeke grinned, nudging her shoulder. A few more students completed the test before Professor Gerald finally called, "Zeke de''Godfrey." The classroom went particularly quiet as Zeke rose and approached the table. He was well aware that most students still viewed him with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism, the second son who had arrived with no training but somehow excelled beyond expectations. Professor Gerald gave him a small nod as he took his seat. "From what I''ve seen from you, you''ll likely find this straightforward. Still, we need to make sure you haven''t allowed any of your previous skills to deteriorate. Whenever you''re ready." Zeke nodded and let out a long, steady breath. He placed his hands on the wood and focused, feeling his aura flowing through his arms and into his fingertips. He directed it outward, enveloping the metal ring with invisible energy. There was a moment of resistance, then the ring quivered and began to rise smoothly into the air. Unlike many other students'' attempts, it didn''t wobble or jerk upward, it lifted in a single fluid motion, hovering precisely where Zeke wanted it. The challenge proved easier than he''d anticipated. The hours spent practicing with Professor Gilda had refined his control to the point where guiding the ring felt almost intuitive. He moved it through each twist and turn with careful precision, never allowing it to touch the rod itself. The entire class watched in silence as he completed the course in half the time most others had needed. The ring settled gently on the opposite side, and several students exchanged impressed glances. "An excellent demonstration, once again," Professor Gerald said, genuine approval in his voice. "You''ve come remarkably far since your first day in this classroom." He lowered his voice, just as he had done with all the other students. "It''s truly amazing, really. I never would have imagined when you first came here that you would become my top student, and yet here you are. Magnificent work. If I could offer one small pointer, though?" "Please," Zeke nodded, always eager to improve. "When you were moving around the corners, I detected some aura leakage from the ring into the rod," the professor explained. "It was slight, but in more advanced applications, that can have significant effects. Nothing I''ll deduct points for today, just something to consider as you advance. Very well done." "Thank you, professor," Zeke said sincerely. "I''ll work on the containment." As he rose and turned back toward his seat, Zeke caught sight of Diocletian staring at him with undisguised hatred. The boy''s knuckles were white where he gripped the edge of his desk. "Sorry," Zeke murmured as he walked past, not entirely sure what he was apologizing for, but wanting to defuse the tension. Diocletian didn''t respond, but his glare intensified. Zeke returned to his seat, discomforted by the hostility but not particularly worried. Diocletian had always been antagonistic; this was just a more concentrated version of his usual attitude. The remaining students completed their tests with varying results, and finally, Professor Gerald dismissed the class. As Zeke gathered his things, he noticed Diocletian whispering intensely with two other students, occasionally glancing in his direction. "I don''t like the look of that," Elise murmured as they headed for the door. "Probably just complaining about the test," Zeke shrugged. "You know how he," Before he could finish, pounding footsteps approached from behind, and Diocletian suddenly appeared, blocking their path. His face was flushed, eyes narrowed with fury. "You think this is some sort of game?" Diocletian snapped, drawing up Zeke short. Around them, other students paused, sensing confrontation. Some backed away, others moved closer, eager to witness whatever drama was unfolding. "Ah... no. I think this is a class," Zeke answered calmly. "What''s going on?" Diocletian''s cheeks turned a fiery red, but he pressed on, voice rising. "What''s going on is that... you''re cheating, or something! Maybe you''d been training all along as a child, and you entered the Academy pretending to be a wimp just to throw everyone off. Or maybe you''re not actually as good as everyone thinks. I don''t know, but I don''t like it." Zeke resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "You''re just upset because you''re not at the top anymore. I didn''t take that from you, you lost it all on your own." The gathered crowd murmured, and someone snickered. Diocletian''s face darkened further. "You''ve taken everything from me," he snarled, taking a step closer. His hand twitched toward the practice wand at his belt. "And you''re going to pay for it, Godfrey. You''re going to pay for it with your life." The hallway went silent. Threats of that nature crossed a line even for academic rivalries. "Whoa, whoa." Professor Gerald stepped out of the classroom, his expression stern. "Diocletian de''Minziar, there''s no need for that sort of talk. Run along to your next class." Diocletian set his jaw stubbornly, seemingly ready to argue. Professor Gerald''s face hardened to stone, and the temperature in the hallway seemed to drop several degrees. Diocletian finally got the hint and turned away, stomping off down the stairs with his friends in tow. Professor Gerald sighed deeply, shook his head, and walked back into the classroom without another word. The crowd of students began to disperse, whispering excitedly about what they''d witnessed. "Well, that was dramatic," Zeke commented, trying to lighten the mood. "He wasn''t joking," Elise said quietly. "I''ve never seen him that angry." They started down the stairs together, Zeke turning the confrontation over in his mind. "What do you think is going to come from that?" "Nothing good," Elise shrugged, her expression worried. "He''s been after you since day one, and the fact that you''ve outpaced him... I mean, that has to sting." "I''m just worried about what he might try," Zeke admitted as they reached the second-floor landing. "I don''t think he''d actually try to kill me, that''s just talk. But what if he does something reckless and other people get caught in the crossfire? I don''t have the faintest idea what he''s capable of, and I don''t want anyone else getting hurt when he inevitably does something stupid." Two older students passed them on the stairs, nodding respectfully to Zeke. Word of his achievements in the Mountain Run had spread throughout the Academy, elevating his status significantly. It was a strange feeling, being acknowledged rather than dismissed. "I''ll keep my eyes open," Elise promised. "Victoria and Ingrid should know too. We can take turns watching your back." "I appreciate it, but I don''t want you all distracted from your studies because of me," Zeke replied. "Besides, he''s more likely to challenge me to a duel than try anything underhanded. He still cares too much about his reputation." As they reached the main floor, they paused at the intersection where their paths would diverge. Elise seemed to have something more on her mind, fidgeting with the sleeve of her robe. "Is there..." She sighed, looking suddenly nervous. "Is there any way that I could ask a huge favor of you? You can say no." Zeke laughed. "Why don''t you tell me what the favor is before I answer one way or another?" She took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you''d want to go berry picking with me." The words came out in a rush. "The berry bushes are just starting to put on their first fruits, at least some varieties, and... I know the question is coming out of nowhere and has absolutely nothing to do with what we were talking about, but it''s getting further along into spring, and," "You don''t have to explain," Zeke interrupted with a smile. "I''d love to go berry picking." Her eyes lit up. "You would? Really?" "Of course!" he assured her. "I just love doing things with you. You''ve mentioned before how important these spring traditions are to you. So... yeah, absolutely. When and where?" "How about after classes, in a couple of days?" she suggested, suddenly animated. "I know all the best spots where the sweetest berries grow. There''s this clearing about a mile into the Training Woods where the sun hits just right, and the berries there are always the first to ripen." "I''ll be there," Zeke promised. "Looking forward to it. But right now, I''ve got to run, I have something important in politics today, still can''t remember exactly what it is." "A debate simulation," Elise reminded him. "You''re representing House Godfrey''s interests in a mock Senate hearing, remember? You''ve been preparing your arguments all week." "That''s it!" Zeke snapped his fingers. "Thanks for the reminder. I''ll catch you at dinner?" "Definitely," she nodded. "Good luck with your debate!" They waved goodbye, and Zeke turned down the corridor toward his Politics classroom. As he rounded a corner, he caught a glimpse of Diocletian standing in the shadow of a massive pillar, watching him. The boy made no move to approach, but his silent observation was somehow more unnerving than any verbal threat. Zeke pretended not to notice, continuing on his way with deliberate casualness. He refused to show fear or concern, but made a mental note to be more vigilant in the coming days. The school year was progressing rapidly, but in many ways, not much had changed since his arrival. Diocletian was still Diocletian, albeit considerably angrier, and Zeke remained the outlier, just celebrated now instead of scorned. As he approached his Politics classroom, Zeke found himself surprisingly energized by the morning''s events. The successful test, the confrontation with Diocletian, even the upcoming berry-picking expedition with Elise, it all reinforced how much he''d grown since those first uncertain days at the Academy. Whatever challenges lay ahead, whether from jealous classmates, mysterious assassins, or the Trials themselves, he would face them head-on. And this time, he wouldn''t be facing them alone. A smile spread across his face as he entered the classroom, ready to defend House Godfrey''s honor in today''s debate. Let Diocletian plot and scheme, Zeke had more important things to focus on. Like not forgetting to bring baskets for those berries. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning Golden Touch [Active Quests:] [Berry Nice: Get ready for your excursion with Elise] 51. Adventure [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Estate - Tower 1] [Date: April 17, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] April 17 turned out to be a free day at the Academy. The professors all had some conference that Headmistress Florence needed them to attend, leaving students to their own devices. Zeke stretched and rolled out of bed as warm spring air drifted through the window, bringing with it the scent of blooming flowers and fresh grass. "What a wonderful day!" Ralph beamed as he pulled on his robes and headed for the door. "You''re up nice and early," Zeke raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were physically incapable of rising before a certain time in the afternoon." "On days where we have to learn stuff, yeah," Ralph shrugged. "This isn''t that. I''m heading down to the courtyards. We''re setting up a game of Mageball. Want to join?" "Nah, I''ll pass," Zeke said, already mentally planning his day with Elise. "Got other plans." "Suit yourself. Your loss!" With that, Ralph raced out, leaving Zeke to get ready at his own pace. He splashed cold water on his face, pulled on his most comfortable set of robes, and grabbed a small knife that might come in handy for outdoor adventures. He tucked it into his belt alongside a waterskin before heading downstairs. The dining hall was busier than he''d ever seen it this early. Apparently, the lack of classes had everyone up and about. He spotted Elise at a table near the window, sunlight catching in her hair as she waved him over. He waved back, then joined the line to gather his breakfast, a hearty portion of eggs, bread, and fruit that would fuel a day of exploration. "Morning!" Zeke called as he sat down beside her. "Looks like everyone had the same idea about breakfast." Elise grinned. "Free days are like that. You ready for our adventure?" "Born ready," he nodded, tearing into his bread. "Where exactly are we going berry hunting?" "I''m thinking the Front Woods," she replied, taking a sip from her cup. "Front Woods?" Zeke considered this. The Front Woods were technically part of the Old Woods but referred specifically to the section running along the road toward the Capital. "Good choice. Safer than wandering deep into the Old Forest." "Exactly," Elise agreed. "Plus, the sunlight hits different there. Better for berries." Zeke took a big bite of eggs. "I''ve got to admit, I don''t know the first thing about picking berries." "Well, the first rule is if you see a bear, don''t run," Elise held up a finger with mock seriousness. "But also don''t stand between the bear and the berry bush. Just slide off to the side and let it get to its food." "Bears eat berries?" Zeke frowned. "I thought they just ate meat. Mostly people." Elise burst out laughing. "They''ll attack if threatened, but they actually prefer fruits and plants. They love berries, though, so you sometimes have to watch out for them. I honestly don''t know if there are any in this area." She nodded toward his plate. "Finish up and we can get going." Zeke scarfed down the rest of his breakfast in record time. Elise had several large sacks stuffed into a satchel, which she patted as they rose from the table. They made their way through the main entry hall and across the broad courtyards, which buzzed with activity as everyone took advantage of the beautiful day. Mages hurled colorful bolts of magic back and forth, their laughter ringing through the air. Shimmering sport balls whizzed overhead, guided by aura-enhanced players. Warriors sparred in friendly competitions, wooden practice swords clacking rhythmically. The energy was infectious, and Zeke found himself grinning as they walked. "Looks like we''re not the only ones with outdoor plans," he observed. "But I bet we''re the only ones who''ll come back with something delicious," Elise replied with a wink. They slipped through the open main gates and started down the wide road. Tall trees grew thick on either side, their branches creating dappled patterns of sunlight on the path. "This part of the forest is technically a couple hundred years younger than the Old Wood," Elise explained as they walked. "When the Academy was first built, this was actually a small town, but it dissolved as the Academy became more prestigious." "Really?" Zeke looked around with renewed interest, trying to imagine houses where trees now stood. "Wonder if there''s anything left of it." "Not much above ground," Elise replied. "But that''s why there are loads of berry bushes throughout the area. Old gardens gone wild." She suddenly pointed to their right. "There!" Zeke squinted but didn''t see any berries. He shrugged and followed as she plunged into the underbrush. "Don''t worry, you''re not missing anything," she called over her shoulder. "I don''t see berries yet, but I do see something that makes me think they might be in this direction." "What''s that?" Zeke asked, ducking under a low-hanging branch. "Bear claw marks." She pointed at a nearby tree where deep scratches marked the bark at about the height of Zeke''s head. His eyebrows shot up, but he grinned at the prospect of adventure. Bears weren''t monsters after all, just animals going about their business. "Perfect! Where there''s bears, there''s berries," he said, matching her enthusiasm. Elise smiled approvingly at his attitude and pointed to a small trail barely visible among the ferns. They wound deeper into the woods, with Elise confidently leading the way. She seemed to have an innate sense of direction, which Zeke appreciated since he would have been completely lost within minutes. Occasionally, he caught glimpses of the Academy towers through the trees, but these sightings became less frequent the further they traveled. "You sure we''ll actually find berries?" Zeke asked after they''d been walking for nearly an hour. The forest was lush with greenery, vines, shrubs, and flowers everywhere, but nothing that looked particularly edible. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. "Absolutely certain," Elise nodded confidently. "I did my research before suggesting this. There are clearings up ahead that we''re looking for. I''m using the trails and signs to find them, but I know they''re, Hey!" She pointed ahead excitedly. Beams of sunlight shot down through the canopy several hundred feet ahead of them. They picked up their pace, pushing through the undergrowth until they emerged into a large clearing that made Zeke''s jaw drop. The open space stretched at least a hundred feet across in every direction, filled with bushes covered in brilliant blue berries. The fruit glistened in the sunlight like tiny jewels. Elise plucked one and popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before breaking into a wide smile. "Mmm, yes! This is perfect. Try one!" Zeke picked a plump berry and tasted it. The juice burst in his mouth, sweet with a hint of tartness he couldn''t quite place. It was delicious. "These are amazing," he said, already reaching for more. "What are they called?" "We didn''t have these where I lived," Elise admitted as she started filling one of her sacks. "I don''t know their name, but they taste wonderful." "Wait," Zeke paused, suddenly concerned. "If you don''t know what they are, how do you know they''re not poisonous?" "Poisonous berries rarely taste good," Elise explained, continuing to pick. "Plants make things poisonous because they don''t want to be eaten, and along with poison usually comes bitterness or some other unpleasant taste. These are delicious, so I''m not worried." That made sense to Zeke. He took a sack from her and they spread out across the clearing, staying close enough to talk but giving each other space to work efficiently. The sacks filled surprisingly quickly. At first, Zeke barely noticed the weight, but soon his arms began to feel the strain as the bottom bulged with fruit. By midday, the berries at the bottom were getting slightly crushed, turning the sack''s bottom a deep purple. "Alright!" Elise called out. "Time for lunch!" "Great!" Zeke grinned, then realized something. "Did you happen to bring anything?" "Nope," Elise shook her head as they walked to a nearby tree and sat down in its shade. "That''s the best part about berry picking. It''s time to lighten your load a bit." They both laughed and dug into their sacks, eating the fruits of their labor. Their fingers, lips, and tongues were soon stained purple. Zeke found he didn''t mind at all, there was something satisfying about the visible evidence of their work. ¡¸?????????? ??????????????????¡¹ ¡¾Progress: Excellent¡¿ ¡¾Purple Stains: Acquired¡¿ ¡¾Berry Identification: Incomplete¡¿ "This is the best lunch I''ve had in ages," Zeke declared, leaning back against the tree trunk. Elise sighed contentedly, gazing up at the sky. "Thank you for coming with me," she said after a few moments. "When I agreed to leave home for the Academy, this was what I was afraid of missing more than anything else. I mean, I knew I would miss my family most of all, but as far as things I could do, this was top of the list. I was dreading spring coming around and not being able to get out berry picking." "I''m glad we''re doing this," Zeke replied sincerely. "It''s really nice out here. Away from all the politics and training and expectations. Just us and what the forest gives us." "Exactly," Elise nodded. "You get to escape the hustle and bustle and just harvest what nature has grown for you." Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she pointed across the clearing. "Look!" Zeke followed her gaze. On the far side of the clearing, a large, dark form was emerging from the trees. A bear, massive and covered in black fur. It snuffled along the bushes, its huge tongue flicking out to strip berries from branches. It would pause to chew, move a few steps, then pause again. Behind it came a smaller bear, a cub that tumbled and played, batting at butterflies and rolling through the grass. "Oh!" Elise whispered excitedly. "It''s so cute!" The mother bear looked in their direction, seeming to notice them for the first time. Instead of running or showing aggression, it began moving toward them at a slow, deliberate pace. "Stay calm," Elise murmured, though she didn''t seem worried herself. "It''s just curious. If it was angry, it would be charging, not walking so casually." Zeke nodded, watching with fascination as the massive creature approached. When it was just a few feet away, its upper lip curled slightly, revealing impressive teeth. Elise raised a hand calmly. "We won''t hurt you," she said, her voice taking on a melodious quality Zeke hadn''t heard before. The bear instantly seemed to relax. It stepped closer to Elise, took a long sniff, and then, to Zeke''s amazement, licked her across the face. "Gross!" Elise giggled. "Go say hello to Zeke!" The bear turned toward him, and Zeke held perfectly still, more from awe than fear. The creature took a step forward and gave him the same treatment, a long, slobbery lick across his face. It was warm and rough and nothing like he''d expected. The bear then snorted and sniffed at Zeke''s sack of berries. "It wants some," Elise whispered. "Share your bounty!" Zeke grinned and reached into his sack, pulling out a handful of berries. He held them out flat on his palm, and the bear delicately licked them up with a surprising gentleness. The animal looked at him expectantly, and he laughed, offering another handful. Meanwhile, the bear cub had trotted over to Elise and climbed into her lap, sniffing and rolling about. Elise beamed with pure joy, stroking its fur gently. The mother bear noticed and grunted, suddenly alert to her cub''s position. She snarled softly. "Don''t worry," Elise said in that same musical tone. "We''re not going to hurt either of you." She paused. "But it might be best if you move along now." The bear turned back to Zeke, sniffing hopefully. He fed it one more handful of berries, and with that, it seemed satisfied. It ambled back across the clearing, its cub scampering after it. Zeke watched, entranced, as they disappeared back into the forest on the far side. When they were gone, he let out a breath he hadn''t realized he was holding. "That was AMAZING!" Elise exclaimed, bouncing with excitement. "I''ve never had that happen before! You actually fed a wild bear from your hand! And the little cub was in my lap! This is the best day ever!" Her enthusiasm was contagious. Zeke laughed, wiping bear slobber on his robes. "I never thought I''d get that close to a bear and live to tell about it. How did you do that thing with your voice?" "It''s part of my gift," Elise shrugged. "Plants respond to it best, but animals sometimes do too. I never know when it will work." "Well, I''m glad it worked today," Zeke said. "That''s definitely something I can tell my grandkids about someday." They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, simply enjoying the sunshine and the lingering excitement of their bear encounter. Finally, Elise stretched and stood up. "Break''s over! Back to work!" Zeke nodded and rose, and they returned to the berry bushes with their now-lighter sacks. They avoided the areas the bears had visited and soon had their containers filled to bursting once again. As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, they decided it was time to head back. "So what happens with all these berries?" Zeke asked as they made their way back toward the Academy. "They won''t last long once picked, right?" "That''s tomorrow''s project," Elise explained. "I''m working with Ericka on canning everything. You''re welcome to join if you can, but I had to get special permission to skip classes for it. It''ll be an all-day project, not something we can finish in an hour or two." "I''m not sure I can commit to the whole day," Zeke said, "but I''d like to stop by if I can. Depends how my schedule works out." "I''d love that!" Elise replied, her face lighting up. "Even if you just come by to say hello." As they walked through the dappled forest light, Zeke found himself wondering if this was what normal life was like for people who weren''t born into noble houses with ancient legacies to uphold. This simple joy of gathering food, spending time outdoors, and sharing the day with a friend, it held a different kind of magic than aura manipulation or combat training. "What''s that look for?" Elise asked, noticing his thoughtful expression. "Just thinking about how different this is from everything else at the Academy," he answered honestly. "You know a whole different world than what most of us nobles grew up with." "Better or worse?" she asked, curious. "Just different," Zeke replied. "But days like today make me think that when all this is over, all the trials and training, I might want to spend more time doing simple things like berry picking." "You''d be welcome in my berry patches anytime," Elise said with a smile. They walked in comfortable silence for a while, the weight of their berry-filled sacks a pleasant reminder of their successful day. The sweet smell filled the air around them, mingling with the forest scents of earth and pine. Seeing the bears had been thrilling, but what struck Zeke most was how naturally Elise had handled the situation. She brought a different perspective to Leoncrest, one unburdened by the weight of noble politics and ancient rivalries. It was refreshing. Of course, Zeke knew he had responsibilities that couldn''t be set aside. He had to become the warrior House Godfrey needed. But perhaps when that was done, when the trials were complete and his brother''s legacy secured, there would be time for simpler pleasures. Assuming, of course, that he survived long enough to see that day. But as they approached the Academy gates, the towers gleaming gold in the late afternoon sun, Zeke pushed that thought aside. Today had been perfect. Tomorrow would take care of itself. "Same time next spring?" he asked Elise with a grin. "You bet," she replied. "Though next time, bring a bigger sack. I think you''ve got natural talent for berry picking." Zeke laughed, already looking forward to it. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning, Golden Touch [Active Quests:] [Just Stopping By: Visit Elise while she''s canning the berries] 52. Saving the Date [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Estate - Tower 12] [Date: April 25, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] Zeke took the stairs to the Headmistress''s office two at a time, his mind made up. Three months had passed since his last Trial, and it was time to get moving again. The berry-picking adventure with Elise last week had been great fun, but he hadn''t come to Leoncrest to pick berries, he came to complete the 34 Trials and restore House Godfrey''s honor. The morning had started like any other. He''d woken before dawn, completed his daily run around the Academy grounds, and attended his classes with the same focus he always did. But throughout the day, the same thought kept nagging at him: time was passing, and he wasn''t making progress on what mattered most. When he reached the top of the long staircase, he paused to catch his breath. Just as he raised his hand to knock, doubts crept in. Maybe this wasn''t the best idea. The Headmistress wasn''t exactly known for her patience. "Come on, what''s the worst she can do? Say no?" he muttered to himself, squaring his shoulders. "Artax wouldn''t hesitate, and neither will I." Before his knuckles could touch the wood, the massive doors swung open with a resounding boom. Headmistress Florence appeared in the doorway, her sharp eyes narrowing when she spotted him. Today she wore robes of deep crimson trimmed with gold thread that matched House Dracthen''s colors. The dragon embroidery along the hem seemed to watch him with intelligent eyes. "Ah, de''Godfrey. Going somewhere?" Her voice carried a hint of mockery. "You look like you''re leaving, but the only place on this floor is my office. It makes one wonder just what you might be doing here." "Actually, I was coming to see you, Headmistress," Zeke replied, standing his ground despite the intimidating figure she cut in her elaborate robes. "Well, I am heading down to the administrative offices on the third floor. You may have until I reach that point to plead your case." She brushed past him and started down the stairs at a brisk pace, the scent of exotic incense trailing in her wake. Zeke fell in beside her, matching her stride. "I was hoping we could discuss starting up the next Trial sometime soon." "You want to take on the fourth Trial?" The Headmistress glanced at him sharply. "I thought we discussed this matter." "Yes, but it''s been three months," Zeke said, keeping pace effortlessly thanks to his daily running regimen. "There have been no other incidents, and the attacker in the woods hasn''t been seen since," He caught himself too late. The Headmistress stopped abruptly, one eyebrow raised. A student carrying a stack of scrolls nearly collided with them, squeaking in alarm before darting around the pair and continuing downstairs. "Since what? Surely you and some other students didn''t cook up a foolhardy idea about trying to ambush him in the Training Woods." Zeke winced. "So you know about that?" "There are very few things in this Academy that I don''t know." Her voice was cold as winter frost. "For example, I know that you and Elise discovered the entrance to the hidden room underneath the Library. I know that you were the one who struck Diocletian with the rock out in the forest." Zeke felt his blood chill. The Headmistress suddenly stopped and spun, glaring down at him. A pair of students coming up the stairs spotted her expression, turned around, and fled back the way they''d come. "Do you think me ignorant and stupid?" she hissed. Zeke shook his head quickly, and she took a step toward him. "Do you think that I am so blind as to not realize that an ancient cult is running business out of these hallowed halls? Do you not think that I know that Professor Karl is involved, or that Elise managed to break into his office? I am no fool, Godfrey, and you are not an omniscient prodigy who can simply walk in here and own the place." Zeke''s eyes widened. He''d suspected the Headmistress knew more than she let on, but this was beyond anything he''d imagined. Sunlight from a nearby window caught the golden pins in her hair, making the dragon-shaped clasps seem to glow with inner fire. "Ah..." "You want to know why I allow it to continue? Or why I''m speaking about it in the open?" she continued sharply. "I am speaking of it, in the open stairwell, because I know who is involved and who is not, and I know that none of them are around at this juncture, nor anyone other than those most loyal to myself. Why do I allow it to continue? Because it has existed for the last three centuries, under the watchful eyes of every Headmaster and Headmistress. The enemy that you know is better than the enemy that you don''t, and as long as they continue to operate out of this structure, I can curb their more intense plans and desires without driving them away. Would you like me to continue?" Zeke gave a small shake of his head, fascinated despite his discomfort. This explained so much about the strange occurrences at the Academy, the shadows moving at night, the whispered conversations that stopped when students approached, the areas of the grounds that everyone instinctively avoided. "Good." The Headmistress snorted, then turned to continue down the stairs, her robes sweeping dramatically behind her. Zeke took a deep breath and followed. If he backed down now, it might be another three months before he got another chance. He thought of Artax, still recovering at home, counting on him. He thought of his father, who had risked everything on Zeke''s promise to the Senate. "I still need to take the Trial, though," he said firmly, his voice echoing slightly in the stairwell. "If you take it now, you will die," Headmistress Florence called over her shoulder, not breaking her stride. "Don''t ask me how I know, but I do. You think that you aren''t being watched because you no longer see the man in the woods. He was never a concern to you, mark my words. I am dealing with the problem and will let you know as soon as the coast is clear. This conversation is now over." With that, she vanished through a doorway at the landing, leaving Zeke standing alone in the stairwell. The heavy oak door closed behind her with a finality that echoed up and down the tower. "Well, that went about as well as could be expected," he said to himself with a slight grin. At least he''d gotten an answer, even if it wasn''t the one he wanted. A group of first-year students appeared at the bottom of the stairs, looking up nervously when they spotted him. "Is she gone?" one of them whispered. "Coast is clear," Zeke replied with a reassuring smile. "But I''d take the west staircase if I were you. She seemed in a mood." They nodded gratefully and disappeared. Zeke made his way downstairs, considering his options. Rather than returning to his room to sulk, he decided to head to the library. Something about being surrounded by books always cleared his head, and besides, Adrian might have some advice. The library was quiet as always, with only a few students scattered among the massive shelves. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the high arched windows, catching dust motes that danced in the air. The scent of old parchment and leather bindings filled his lungs as he entered, bringing an immediate sense of calm. Zeke spotted Ingrid across the room, bent over a stack of books. She nodded to him when their eyes met but made no move to join him. Her dark hair was pulled back in its usual severe style, and she appeared to be studying some kind of tactical maps. He settled into a chair at an empty table, drumming his fingers on the polished wood. The carved edge of the table bore dozens of tiny initials from students past, some dating back over a century. He wondered if his brother had left his mark somewhere in the Academy. Adrian appeared a few minutes later, shelving returns with practiced efficiency. His white robes rustled softly as he moved, and the many keys hanging from his belt jingled with each step. When he spotted Zeke, he changed direction and pulled out the chair across from him. "Ah, Zeke. You look..." He frowned, studying the young man''s face. "You look like you just failed a final but have to wait two weeks for the results." "Something like that," Zeke replied with a lopsided smile. "Just had a chat with the Headmistress. Let''s just say she wasn''t thrilled to see me." "Well, you probably shouldn''t have said whatever it was that you said," Adrian shrugged, his white beard shifting with the movement. "Come on, you''re a smart lad. You ought to have realized that by now." "All I did was ask if she could get the fourth Trial going," Zeke explained, leaning back in his chair. "She didn''t take it well." A student at a nearby table looked up sharply at the mention of the Trials, watching Zeke with interest before returning to his book. Word had spread throughout the Academy about Zeke''s quest, some students whispered about it with awe, others with skepticism. "Hmm." Adrian stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Do you feel as though you''re ready for the fourth Trial?" "As ready as I''ll ever be," Zeke said, stretching his arms overhead. "Been running almost every day for months. My endurance is at its peak, I''m not getting any faster, and I''m not able to run any further. If I''m not ready now, I''m not sure I ever will be." Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. He didn''t mention the daily training sessions with Victoria and Ingrid, or the hours spent studying maps of the Academy grounds and surrounding mountains. Every spare moment had been dedicated to preparation for a Trial that seemed perpetually out of reach. "There is a saying," Adrian began, a small smile playing at his lips, "if you don''t mind my telling it to you. The fury of a storm can knock down trees, but the patience of a river can grind mountains to dust." "So you''re saying I should just wait it out?" Zeke asked, quirking an eyebrow. "That''s easier said than done when the Senate is breathing down my neck." "Something like that, yes." Adrian nodded. "Did the Headmistress say why she wasn''t letting you take it?" "Because I''d die," Zeke answered, keeping his voice light despite the heavy words. "And perhaps she''s right." Adrian leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I''m not saying that I agree with the Headmistress in everything she does. I''m not saying that I personally like the Headmistress. That said, I truly do believe that she has the best interests of our students in mind. She wouldn''t delay you if she didn''t think you were in genuine danger." Zeke tapped his fingers on the table, considering. The carved wood was smooth beneath his fingertips, worn down by generations of students who had sat at this same table, perhaps wrestling with their own challenges. "But what if it''s always dangerous? What if there''s never a perfect time?" he asked, watching a beam of sunlight slowly move across the floor. "The 34 Trials aren''t meant to be safe, that''s the whole point. They test whether a knight has what it takes to face real danger." He paused, thinking of another approach. "Is there any way you could talk to her? She might listen to you." "You want me to be your errand boy?" Adrian laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No, no," Zeke grinned. "I just think she might take it better coming from you. A fellow staff member and all that." "More willing doesn''t mean that she will listen. She''s not exactly a fan of House Levayne either," Adrian pointed out. He paused, thinking it over. "I''ll broach it with her, yes. I have a meeting with her later this afternoon regarding the classification of some books that we recently discovered were in the public section but probably shouldn''t have been. I can bring it up then." He held up a finger. "But you have to agree to abide by her decision." "Deal," Zeke nodded firmly. If this didn''t work, he''d find another way, but no sense burning bridges just yet. "Now, while we wait for that meeting, why don''t you help me with something?" Adrian said, rising from his seat. "A shipment of books arrived from the capital yesterday, and I could use an extra pair of hands to sort them." Zeke spent the next few hours working alongside the old librarian, carefully unpacking crates of leather-bound volumes and organizing them by subject. The methodical work helped clear his mind, and Adrian''s occasional anecdotes about the Academy''s history provided welcome distraction. "Did you know," Adrian said as they shelved a particularly ancient tome, "that the fourth Trial was originally designed to test endurance rather than speed? The original challenge was to carry a boulder to the summit and back down." "That sounds brutal," Zeke replied, wiping dust from his hands. "When did it change?" "About a century ago, after three consecutive candidates collapsed from exhaustion. One nearly died." Adrian handed him another stack of books. "The Mountain Run was considered more humane." "More humane, but still plenty difficult," Zeke mused, remembering what the Headmistress had said about traps on the mountain. By the time they finished, the dinner bell was ringing across the Academy grounds. Adrian checked the ornate clock mounted on the wall and straightened his robes. "I should head to my meeting with the Headmistress," he said. "Perhaps you should get some dinner while you wait." Zeke nodded and headed to the dining hall, his mind still churning with possibilities. The vast room was strangely empty for dinner time, with barely a quarter of the tables occupied. Zeke grabbed some food, roasted chicken, potatoes, and greens, and found a quiet corner to eat. As he took his first bite, he noticed Diocletian and several of his cronies huddled near the serving line, occasionally glancing his way and making crude gestures. One of them mimicked someone falling off a cliff, then the whole group burst into laughter. "Some things never change," Zeke muttered, amused rather than bothered by their childish behavior. If anything, their continued antagonism was a good sign, it meant he was still making progress, still a threat to their status quo. He finished his meal quickly and headed out, figuring he''d check back at the library before returning to his room. The corridors were oddly quiet for this time of day, with most students either at dinner or already retreated to their common rooms. As he approached the library corridor, he caught a glimpse of movement from a side passage. The Headmistress appeared, her face set in stern lines. When she spotted him, she motioned sharply for him to follow without breaking stride. "That was quick," Zeke muttered, wondering what Adrian had said to bring her back so soon. He fell in step behind her as she led him back to the library, her robes billowing dramatically with each quick turn. The few students they passed pressed themselves against the walls, eyes wide as the Headmistress swept by. Inside the library, Adrian was already seated at one of the study tables. The Headmistress pointed to the chair beside him, and Zeke sat down, straightening his shoulders. The setting sun cast long shadows through the windows, giving the massive room an otherworldly glow. "I really have to give you credit," she said, holding up one finger. "Even when I''ve been extremely clear with you, even when I''ve told you exactly what I expect from you, you''re willing to challenge me. That is a level of brazenness that I''ve not seen in a good, long time. Your brother got close, I''ll admit, but even he would have stopped short of something like this." Zeke met her gaze steadily. Despite her harsh tone, he thought he detected a hint of something else in her eyes, perhaps respect, or at least acknowledgment. "I have a duty to my family. I have to," "Don''t you think I know that?" she snapped. "If I''m actively preventing you from this task because of your family duty, because I feel threatened by it, telling me about it over and over again will do you no good." "That''s fair," Zeke conceded, but his expression remained determined. From the corner of his eye, he noticed several students peering around bookshelves, watching the exchange with undisguised curiosity. The Headmistress studied him for a long moment, then crossed her arms with a sigh. The golden dragon pins in her hair caught the fading light, their ruby eyes seeming to glow. "If you must know everything, the cult that you disrupted? A number of their members have made both scheduled and unscheduled visits to Dragonpeak, where you will be doing the Mountain Run. I can only assume that they''ve been laying traps for you, or at the least, have taken the opportunity to do so while conducting other business there." She paced as she spoke, her robes swishing against the stone floor. "Some of my most loyal followers have done what they can to seek out and disarm said traps, and they have managed to find a few, but the work the cult has been doing is quite good. It''s the quality of work that I would expect from trainees at the most prestigious school in the world, which is to say that it isn''t easy to find or to defeat. If you go up there, you will die. That is the long and the short of the story." "Oh," Zeke said, his mind already racing with possibilities. Traps he could deal with, as long as he knew they were there. In fact, this was better than not knowing what the danger was at all. "''Oh'' is right," she replied sharply. "I am not out to get you, Godfrey. That said, because you wouldn''t listen to me, you will now have to pay for your folly. I am formally setting the date of the fourth Trial for one month from now. I will design the route and give it to you ahead of time to study." She crossed her arms. "Perhaps, with some advanced preparation, you can avoid any traps they may have set up, or find a way to evade any ambushes they make against you." A rush of excitement swept through Zeke, despite the obvious danger. A date! Finally, a concrete goal to work toward. He struggled to keep his expression appropriately serious. "I understand," he said, nodding solemnly. "I have tried to work with you, Godfrey," she continued, rising to her feet. The watching students quickly ducked back behind the shelves. "I hope you make it through alive, I truly do. If you do, I advise that you listen to me in the future. I will not send you to your death, and I will not simply delay the Trials so that you can''t complete them. It would be better for my House if I issued them back to back, but I have regulations that I wish to follow. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes, ma''am," Zeke replied. "Thank you for the warning, and the opportunity." "Good." With a final sharp nod, she turned and swept out of the library, her footsteps fading into the distance. The hidden students immediately began whispering among themselves, news of the upcoming Trial already spreading. Zeke let out a long breath and looked down at his hands. Despite the Headmistress''s warnings, he couldn''t help feeling relieved. At least now he had something concrete to work toward. "Did I just sign my own death certificate?" he asked, though there was a hint of excitement in his voice that belied the grim words. "You sure didn''t make matters easier for yourself," Adrian said, patting him on the shoulder as he rose. "The Headmistress is a nasty woman sometimes, but she''s rarely wrong. It would be wise to keep that in mind." Zeke nodded, already mentally cataloging what he would need to do to prepare. As Adrian walked away, Ingrid approached from her table across the room and took the vacant seat. Her dark eyes were intense as she studied his face. "Don''t worry," she said, her voice unusually gentle. "I''ll help you get ready." "Really?" Zeke grinned. "How are you going to do that? Booby-trap my running path?" "Believe it or not... yes," she nodded, a fierce smile lighting her normally stern face. "Give me a couple days to prepare, and I''ll have something ready for you. We can use the old training grounds on the east side of the estate, nobody goes there anymore. I''ll set up obstacles, traps, the works." "That would be amazing," Zeke said, his eyes brightening. "If these cultists want to play dirty, we can play dirty right back." "Exactly," Ingrid replied, clapping him on the shoulder before rising to her feet. "Meet me at the east training grounds at dawn the day after tomorrow. Wear clothes you don''t mind getting ruined." She paused, her expression becoming serious. "And don''t tell anyone where you''re going. The fewer people who know about our preparations, the better." As she walked away, Zeke leaned back in his chair, his mind buzzing with possibilities. One month to prepare for traps, ambushes, and who knew what else. It wouldn''t be easy, but nothing worth doing ever was. He got up and headed for the door, his steps lighter than when he''d entered. The situation was dangerous, sure, but now he had a plan, and allies willing to help him. Plus, the Headmistress had finally set a date for his next Trial. That alone was worth celebrating. As he crossed the courtyard toward his dormitory tower, the setting sun painted the Academy''s walls with golden light. A few students called out greetings as he passed, word of his upcoming Trial already spreading through the Academy grapevine. By the time he reached his room, he had mentally drafted a training schedule for the coming month. He''d need to study the mountain routes, learn to identify common traps, improve his reaction time, and continue building his stamina. Ralph looked up from his desk as Zeke entered, surrounded by what appeared to be small mechanical parts. "There you are! Been looking for you all afternoon. I''m working on something new, spring-loaded throwing stars that return to the user. Want to help test them tomorrow?" "Can''t," Zeke replied, dropping onto his bed with a grin. "The Headmistress just set the date for my fourth Trial. One month from now." Ralph''s eyes widened. "No way! That''s fantastic! We need to celebrate! I''ve got half a bottle of Arnette brandy hidden under my mattress that my cousin smuggled in last month. What do you say?" "Maybe tomorrow," Zeke said, pulling a blank piece of parchment from his desk. "Right now, I need to start planning. The Headmistress basically admitted there will be traps on the mountain route." "Traps?" Ralph whistled. "That''s not part of the normal Trial, is it?" "Apparently our cult friends have been busy," Zeke explained, sketching a rough map of Dragonpeak from memory. "But it''s alright, Ingrid''s going to help me prepare. She''s setting up some kind of obstacle course for me to practice on." "Now that I''ve got to see," Ralph chuckled. "The Ice Queen herself, building booby traps for you? Times really have changed." Zeke worked late into the night, making lists and plans, occasionally discussing ideas with Ralph. By the time he finally fell asleep, his excitement had hardened into determination. One month to prepare for whatever awaited him on that mountain. It would be dangerous, perhaps even deadly, but for the first time in months, he had a clear goal in sight. The fourth Trial was coming, and this time, he''d be ready for whatever stood in his way. "One month," he said to himself as he drifted off to sleep. "Better make every day count." ¡¸?????? ??????????¡¹ ¡¾Treacherous Path: Try out the Obstacle course that Ingrid designs¡¿ ¡¾Time Limit: 2 days¡¿ ¡¾Difficulty: High¡¿ [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning Golden Touch [Active Quests:] [Treacherous Path: Try out the Obstacle course that Ingrid designs] 53. The Ringer [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Estate - Tower 1] [Date: April 27, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] Zeke groaned as he rolled out of bed on the morning of the 27th. Every muscle in his body protested the movement. The fresh spring air floated in through the window, carrying the scent of blooming flowers, but he barely noticed. After last night''s training session, just standing upright felt like an achievement. "You look awful," Ralph commented, propping himself up on one elbow. "Ingrid put me through the wringer last night," Zeke said, stretching his arms overhead despite the pain. "What''d you guys do?" Ralph frowned. "I mean... I''ve heard of some crazy date ideas before, but," "It wasn''t a date. Just a run," Zeke said, shaking his head with a grin. "She had this route marked out through the Dark Forest. She tied back a whole bunch of tree branches, so when I tripped these little wires across the path, they smacked me in the face. And gut. And just about everywhere else." He rolled his shoulder, wincing at the stiffness. "And she said she''d have something even more intense for me in a few days." Despite the pain, he couldn''t help feeling a sense of accomplishment. Each bruise was proof he was getting stronger, preparing for what lay ahead. "Sounds rough," Ralph yawned and flopped back in bed. "That''s why I don''t do physical exercise. Or really anything that involves danger." Zeke rolled his eyes. "You''re going to be the fattest and laziest noble there is. Stereotypical in every sense of the word." "And I will enjoy every moment of it," Ralph beamed, pulling his blanket up to his chin. "Any chance you''d be willing to go to classes for me?" "Not a chance," Zeke replied, grabbing his training clothes. "Catch you later!" Ralph called something in return, but Zeke was already out the door. Ralph''s lack of ambition could be annoying, but Zeke had to admit there was something refreshing about his roommate''s honesty. At least Ralph owned his laziness instead of making excuses. The corridors were quiet this early, with only a few dedicated students making their way to morning training. Zeke nodded greetings to those he passed, the camaraderie of early risers creating an unspoken bond. The Academy was different at dawn, peaceful in a way it never was during regular hours. When he reached the main courtyard, Victoria was already setting up for her morning class. Her red hair was tied back in a tight braid, and she moved with the precision that had made her one of the most respected upperclassmen at Leoncrest. She looked up as Zeke approached and nodded. "You''re a tad early today. Everything alright?" "Yeah," Zeke replied, rolling his shoulder. "Woke up early when I rolled onto a bruise. Ingrid really doesn''t hold any punches, does she?" "Ingrid isn''t the sort of person to do things halfway," Victoria said, arranging practice swords on a rack. "She''ll get you in shape, though. I heard that the date for the run had been set for the 25th of May?" "Yup," Zeke confirmed, helping her straighten the equipment. "I saw the route, too. Looks like it''ll be pretty tough," she said, shaking her head. "I hope you''re ready for it." Zeke''s jaw dropped. "You saw the route? I haven''t even seen it yet!" "Well, someone leaked it," Victoria shrugged, her expression turning serious. "It''s been posted all over the Leadership rooms. Lots of people are taking it as a challenge, some are even talking about running it with you." Zeke scowled. "No, no! That''ll just give more time for..." He sighed. "For people to go and put more traps up there." "Thus increasing the chances that you''ll die a terrible and lonely death on a cold and icy mountain," Victoria said grimly. "The way I heard it, you shot off your mouth to the Headmistress." "I think that''s a little extreme," Zeke said, though he couldn''t completely deny it. "I''m just saying that''s what people are saying," Victoria replied. "Anyway, I''m here to help if I can. For now, though, we need to get to work." The rest of the class began to arrive, drowsy-eyed students yawning as they took their places in formation. Victoria lined them up and began calling out the day''s drills. Normally, Zeke threw himself into these morning sessions with enthusiasm, but today his mind wandered. The route had been leaked. This complicated everything. While part of him appreciated knowing the path in advance, the idea that others knew it too, particularly those who might wish him harm, was troubling. As he mechanically went through the sword forms, his thoughts raced ahead to what this might mean for the Trial. Would someone really try to sabotage him? The Headmistress had warned about cultists leaving traps, but what about students like Diocletian? How far would they go to see him fail? "Focus, Godfrey!" Victoria called, noticing his distraction. "Your left guard is dropping!" Zeke snapped back to attention, correcting his form. He couldn''t afford to let his concentration slip, not with the Trial approaching. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he''d face them head-on, but first, he needed to survive Victoria''s training session. By the time they finished, the sun had fully risen, and students were streaming toward the Academic Towers for morning classes. Zeke quickly splashed water on his face from a courtyard fountain and headed for Aura Infusion. His body ached from the training, but his mind felt sharper, more alert. He climbed the spiral staircase to Tower 7, joining the flow of students rushing to beat the bell. The hallways buzzed with conversation, much of it hushed as he passed. Clearly, word about his confrontation with the Headmistress had spread throughout the Academy. Some students nodded respectfully, others watched with undisguised curiosity, and a few, mostly those aligned with Diocletian, smirked openly. When he reached the classroom, Zeke settled into his usual seat. Elise slipped in beside him a moment later, her expression concerned. "You''re in deep, deep trouble," she whispered, leaning close. "Yeah, I sort of figured that out on my own," he replied quietly. "If you have any ideas how to get out of it, I''m all ears." Before Elise could respond, a familiar mocking voice cut through the classroom chatter. "Well, well, well! If it isn''t the little hero, shooting off his mouth at the Headmistress herself." Diocletian sauntered past, his usual group of followers trailing behind him. The class snickered as he stopped in front of Zeke''s desk, his smug smile widening. "Is it true? You marched up to her office and told her that you''d challenge her to a duel in front of the whole Academy?" Diocletian''s voice carried throughout the room. "If she didn''t agree to your demands, that is?" "What are you talking about?" Zeke asked, leaning back in his chair. "Is that the story that''s going around?" "Don''t try to deny it," Diocletian laughed. "That''s what everyone is saying. You took it a step too far. From what I hear, if you don''t finish the whole route in an hour, you''re going to be kicked out of the Academy for good!" "I heard it was two hours," a girl at the back of the room called out. "And I heard it was five!" "The path is ten miles long, right?" "No, twenty." The arguments continued, each student adding their own embellishment to the story. Zeke waited for the chatter to die down before responding. There was no point in letting rumors spiral further out of control. "Here''s what I''ll say," he said, his voice steady. The room quieted, students leaning forward to catch his words. "I went to speak with her. We had some words, and they weren''t all friendly. The next time I ran into her, she set the date for the next Trial. I''m grateful that I now know when it will be, and I''m grateful to know the route I''ll be running." "Thing is, the joke will be on you!" Diocletian crowed, slapping his desk for emphasis. "The rubrics for the Godfrey Trials say you can''t know the route ahead of time! Even if you pass, there''s a good chance the Trial won''t be accepted, and you''ll just have to do it all over again!" Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. He laughed loudly, clearly enjoying himself. Zeke gritted his teeth but kept his expression neutral. He doubted the Headmistress would have set things up this way if it meant automatic disqualification, but arguing further would only feed Diocletian''s desire for attention. Thankfully, Professor Gerald chose that moment to enter the classroom. He strode to the front, his black and silver robes swirling around him as he set down a stack of materials on his desk. "Alright!" He clapped his hands sharply. "Apologies for the delay. I was pulled into a sudden meeting with the Smithing department. Today, we''re going to be practicing infusing your aura into books. It sounds simple, but it''s actually quite difficult and has numerous practical applications." The professor distributed blank books to each student, explaining how to channel aura through the pages without causing damage. As predicted, it proved challenging. Zeke watched as books around the classroom burst into flame when students applied too much power at once. Over half the class ended up throwing their smoking volumes into the enchanted bucket that Professor Gerald had wisely provided. Zeke focused intently on his own book, carefully threading his aura through the binding and into the first few pages. The paper tingled against his fingertips, absorbing the energy in small, controlled amounts. By the end of class, he had managed to infuse his entire book without setting it ablaze, a minor victory, but one that lifted his spirits. Professor Gerald demonstrated advanced techniques by making his own book flip pages on command and even hover briefly above the desk. "With practice, you''ll develop finer control," he assured the class. "Think of practical applications, a merchant''s ledger that cannot be stolen, a diary that only opens to your touch, or reference materials that can find information for you." When the bell finally rang, Zeke gathered his things and headed for the door. As he stepped into the hallway, someone slammed roughly into his shoulder, causing him to stagger sideways. He turned to find Diocletian sneering at him, their faces inches apart. "Better watch where you''re going," Diocletian muttered. "Good advice for both here and on the run." The barely veiled threat sent a surge of anger through Zeke''s chest. "What did you just say?" "You heard me," Diocletian replied. "I''ll say it again, if you want." "You''re going to be putting traps on the path that I''ll be running?" Zeke demanded, stepping closer. Several passing students slowed to watch the confrontation. Diocletian shrank back slightly before squaring his shoulders. "Not what I meant. Only that it would be quite easy to miss a step and go tumbling off a cliff... Forever lost amidst the ice and snow." The hallway had grown quiet as students gathered around them. Zeke set his jaw, hands clenching at his sides. "I''d advise taking that back." "Why?" Diocletian handed his books to a nearby friend. "Are you threatening me?" "It sure sounds like you''re threatening me," Zeke replied, noticing the growing crowd. Many of them were Diocletian''s supporters, forming a loose circle around the confrontation. "Wait," Elise stepped between them, her voice firm. "Please, let''s not do this. If you two start fighting, the Headmistress will get involved." "Stay out of this," Diocletian snapped, pushing her aside. "No!" Elise planted herself firmly beside Zeke. "Zeke is my friend, and if you''re going to threaten him, you''re going to have to threaten me, too!" Zeke glanced toward the classroom and spotted Professor Gerald watching from the doorway. The professor hadn''t intervened yet, but his presence was a reminder of the consequences that would follow any violence within Academy walls. "Come on," Zeke said, taking a deep breath. "Let''s get out of here." Elise looked reluctant but nodded, following Zeke as they pushed through the crowd. Once they''d turned the corner, both exhaled in relief. "Thanks for backing me up," Zeke said as they headed down the stairs. "Always," Elise replied. "But this isn''t over. Diocletian''s been talking about you nonstop since word got out about the Trial date. He''s planning something." "Let him plan," Zeke said with more confidence than he felt. "I''ve got bigger worries than whatever scheme he''s cooking up." They parted ways at the main hall, Elise heading to Herbology while Zeke continued to his History of Warfare class. Throughout the day, he could feel eyes on him wherever he went. The story of his confrontation with the Headmistress had seemingly reached every corner of the Academy, growing more exaggerated with each retelling. By late afternoon, as Zeke finished his final class and headed to the training fields for Swordsmanship, he''d heard at least a dozen versions of what had supposedly happened in the Headmistress''s office. According to the most dramatic account, he''d challenged her to ritual combat while standing on her desk. The absurdity of it almost made him laugh. Almost. The training field was bathed in golden afternoon light when Zeke arrived. Several students were already paired off, practicing techniques under Victoria''s watchful eye. He grabbed a practice sword and joined them, grateful for the physical activity after a day of whispers and stares. For two hours, he lost himself in the rhythm of combat. Parry, thrust, sidestep, counter. The familiar movements cleared his mind, and the ache in his muscles from Ingrid''s training faded to a dull background throb. By the time Victoria called an end to the session, Zeke felt centered again, ready to face whatever came next. As he wiped sweat from his brow and returned his practice sword to the rack, movement at the edge of the field caught his eye. Diocletian was approaching, flanked by at least ten of his cronies. Their expressions left little doubt about their intentions. "There you are, Godfrey!" Diocletian called, his voice carrying across the field. "Your little girlfriend isn''t here to save you now. What are you going to do?" "He''s not going to do anything," Victoria interjected, stepping forward with her instructor''s baton still in hand. "He knows that fighting isn''t allowed on school property." "Maybe not, but sparring is," Diocletian replied, patting the sword at his hip. "That''s all this would be." Zeke considered his options. Walking away would be the sensible choice, but it would also confirm Diocletian''s belief that he could be intimidated. With the Trial approaching, he couldn''t afford to show weakness, not to Diocletian, and not to anyone else who might be watching. "A little sparring match?" Zeke asked, his voice light despite the tension. "I can do that." "Zeke..." Victoria sighed, clearly seeing the trap. She glanced at the gathered students, then at the setting sun. "Alright, alright. Look, I''m still on duty. Shake hands so I can report that you guys were friendly with each other when I left, alright?" Zeke nodded and extended his hand. Diocletian clasped it firmly, his palm dry and oddly textured, almost reptilian. The touch made Zeke''s skin crawl, but he maintained his grip, meeting Diocletian''s gaze steadily. Victoria surveyed them once more, her expression making it clear she disapproved, then gathered her things and strode away. The moment she was out of sight, Diocletian''s false smile vanished. He drew his sword with a flourish. "Alright, Godfrey. Shall we see how well you can fight?" "With pleasure," Zeke replied, drawing his own blade. The metal caught the fading sunlight as he settled into a defensive stance, feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, sword angled to protect his core. It was the stance Victoria had taught for facing multiple opponents. His instinct proved correct. At an unseen signal from Diocletian, all ten of his followers drew their weapons. "Alright, boys," Diocletian commanded. "At him." They rushed forward from all sides. Zeke pivoted sharply, his blade a blur as he parried the first strike and sidestepped another. Steel rang against steel as he blocked a thrust aimed at his ribs, then ducked beneath a wild swing that would have taken his head off. ¡¸???????????? ??????????????¡¹ ¡¾Opponents: 11¡¿ ¡¾Threat Level: Moderate¡¿ ¡¾Advantages: Open space, superior training¡¿ ¡¾Disadvantages: Outnumbered, no backup¡¿ No time to think, only react. Zeke''s body moved on instinct, months of training taking over as he weaved between his attackers. He caught a blade on his crossguard, twisted to disarm its wielder, then kicked another opponent back before they could close in. Despite his skill, the numbers were against him. For every strike he blocked, two more threatened to break through his guard. A thin line of pain scored across his arm as one blade slipped past his defense. Nothing serious, but a warning that he couldn''t keep this up indefinitely. Gradually, he allowed himself to be pushed back toward the edge of the field, creating space to maneuver. His opponents followed eagerly, sensing victory. Diocletian hung back, letting his friends wear Zeke down before stepping in for the final blow. Time for a change in tactics. "Activate Heart of a Warrior," Zeke commanded, his voice clear and strong. Light flashed across his body as the emblem activated. Warmth flooded his limbs, and suddenly the world seemed to slow down. Each movement of his opponents became clearer, more predictable. His own blade felt lighter, responding to his thoughts almost before he moved his arm. Diocletian blinked in surprise at the transformation. That moment of hesitation was all Zeke needed. He lunged forward with newfound speed, breaking through the circle of attackers. Two quick strikes knocked Diocletian''s sword from his hand, the blade spinning through the air before landing point-first in the dirt. Before Diocletian could recover, Zeke swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. The rest of the group surged forward, but Zeke was ready. With his enhanced strength and speed, he met them head-on. Swords that had threatened him moments before now seemed to move through molasses. He parried, struck, and countered with fluid grace, disarming two more opponents before the others could even reach him. One by one, Diocletian''s friends fell back. Some searched for dropped weapons, others nursed bruised wrists and wounded pride. Only three remained standing, and they exchanged uncertain glances, their earlier confidence evaporated. Zeke took a step back, chest heaving but eyes bright with the thrill of combat. Sweat dripped from his brow, and his muscles burned, but he''d never felt more alive. "Go now!" he ordered, his voice carrying across the field. "Go now, and I''ll forget all about this." The remaining fighters looked to Diocletian, who was still struggling to his feet, dirt smeared across his fine clothes. Zeke strode forward and delivered a sharp kick to Diocletian''s ribs, sending him sprawling again. "And that''s what you get for trying a stunt like that," Zeke said, standing over his fallen opponent. "Lowlife scum. Come on, you''re a noble. If you''re going to try to kill me, at least poison me or stab me in the back or something. This?" He gestured at the scattered attackers. "This is just embarrassing." He stepped over Diocletian''s prone form, pausing to deliver another swift kick to his ribs. The boy groaned, curling around the pain. Zeke sheathed his sword and walked away, his back straight and head held high despite the various cuts and bruises he''d acquired. As he crossed the field, he couldn''t resist one parting shot. Turning back to face Diocletian, who had managed to rise to his knees, Zeke called out: "Next time bring twenty! I could use the exercise!" The words echoed across the now-silent training ground. Several onlookers who had gathered to watch the fight burst into laughter, and even a few of Diocletian''s own friends couldn''t suppress their smiles. Zeke continued on his way, feeling the effects of the emblem beginning to fade. The enhanced strength and speed would soon disappear, but the memory of victory would remain, for him and for everyone who had witnessed it. He had no illusions that this was over. If anything, humiliating Diocletian publicly would only escalate matters. The boy would seek revenge, perhaps something more subtle than a direct confrontation next time. Poison in his food? Sabotage during the Trial? There was no way to know for certain. But that was a problem for tomorrow. Today, he had shown everyone at Leoncrest that Zeke de''Godfrey was not someone to be trifled with. If Diocletian and his cultist friends wanted to come after him, they''d better be prepared for a fight. As Zeke reached the castle entrance, he found Elise waiting, her eyes wide with concern. "I heard there was fighting on the training field," she said, falling into step beside him. "Are you alright?" "Never better," Zeke replied with a grin, despite the sting of his various cuts. "Just had to clear up a misunderstanding with Diocletian and some of his friends." "All of them at once?" Elise asked, noticing the tear in his sleeve and the blood seeping through. "They needed the numbers advantage," Zeke shrugged. "Didn''t help them much." Elise shook her head, but there was admiration in her eyes. "You''re either the bravest person I know or the most reckless." "Why not both?" Zeke laughed. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning Golden Touch [Active Quests:] [Catchphrase (COMPLETE): Got the last word in while Diocletian was walking away] 54. The Gauntlet [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Estate - Dining Hall] [Date: May 1, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] The dining hall was busy when Zeke grabbed his lunch and moved through the crowd. He spotted Elise across the room, already seated with her roommate, both deep in conversation. "I''m telling you, it''s great! The room smells better than it has in ages," the roommate insisted as Zeke sat down. What was her name again? Marissa? Something with an M. "I''m not saying it''s bad," Elise replied, stirring her soup. "I''m just saying... ages? Are you forgetting the wild lavender I found in the woods? The whole place smelled like fresh laundry for a week. It was amazing." "It smelled like baby, not laundry," Marissa scowled. "Besides, who thinks the smell of laundry is all that amazing, anyway?" Zeke chuckled as he dug into his food. "What''s this mysterious herb you''re debating so passionately?" "Mountain sage," Elise explained. "Marissa thinks it''s the greatest thing since sliced bread, but I''m partial to lavender." "Sage is better for focus during studies," Marissa argued. "Lavender just makes you want to sleep." "Maybe that''s why you''ve been nodding off in Professor Henwick''s class," Zeke teased Elise, who responded by flicking a bread crumb at him. A shadow fell across the table as Victoria appeared, setting down a plate piled high with food. There were several massive chunks of broiled chicken, grilled vegetables, and three bright red apples stacked precariously on the edge. "Wow," Zeke eyed the mountain of food. "You look like you''re trying to eat enough for both you and Ingrid." "I sort of am," Victoria replied, sliding the plate toward him. "You''re taking it to her as soon as you''re done eating." Zeke paused mid-bite. "I am? Don''t I have swordsmanship right after lunch?" "Normally, yes, but your professor has a soft spot for Ingrid and was convinced to let you skip class for the day." Victoria held up a finger. "Don''t let it become a habit." "Wait, what?" Zeke asked, his interest piqued. "What''s going on?" Victoria''s lips curved into a rare smile. "Ingrid has been working on that obstacle course for you. It''s really something, stretches across half the Training Woods and into the desert. She figures it''ll take you four or five hours to complete." Her smile turned slightly wicked. "If you can complete it at all." Zeke''s eyes lit up at the challenge. "Has anyone else tried it?" "Two upperclassmen," Victoria replied. "Both quit halfway through." "Well, I won''t," Zeke declared, suddenly eating with renewed enthusiasm. This was exactly what he needed, real practice for the Mountain Run. "She''ll be waiting by the gate to the Training Woods," Victoria continued. "And you''d better hurry. From what Ingrid said, it sounds like she really didn''t pull any punches putting this thing together." As Victoria walked away, Elise leaned forward. "Are you sure about this? I''ve seen Ingrid training. She''s... intense." "That''s exactly what I need," Zeke replied, excitement building in his chest. "The Mountain Run is less than a month away. If I can''t handle Ingrid''s obstacle course, I''ve got no business attempting the real thing." "Just try not to break anything important," Elise said with a sigh. "I don''t know enough healing magic to fix bones yet." Zeke laughed and quickly finished his meal. This was going to be interesting. After saying goodbye to Elise, he gathered Ingrid''s food and headed across the Academy grounds. Students milled about between classes, many giving curious looks as he passed with the loaded plate. Word of his upcoming Trial had spread throughout the school, and with it, interest in his preparations. The May sunshine warmed his face as he crossed the courtyard, a light breeze carrying the scent of flowering trees. It was the kind of perfect spring day that made it hard to believe danger lurked around the corner. But Zeke knew better, the pleasant weather only made the contrast with what awaited him on the Mountain more treacherous. As he approached the Training Woods gate, anticipation built in his chest. He''d faced challenges before, the first three Trials had been far from easy, but this was different. This was Ingrid''s creation, designed specifically to push him to his limits. He found her leaning against a tree near the entrance, arms crossed as she surveyed the forest. She turned as he approached, her sharp eyes taking in his eager expression. "I come bearing gifts," Zeke announced, holding out the plate. "Great," Ingrid nodded, accepting the food. "I come bearing a trap-laden running course that will push you to the brink of your survival instinct. I''ve been working on it all week, so it ought to be epic." Zeke grinned, bouncing slightly on his toes. "Will I be able to complete it in a single day?" "That''s the plan," she shrugged, taking a bite of chicken. "Though I guess that''s up to you. See that?" She pointed to his right. Zeke spotted a small red flag tied to a tree limb about fifty yards away. "Yeah, what about it?" "That''s how the course is marked. The route on the mountain will be flagged similarly, so this is good practice," Ingrid explained. "There are traps throughout, some obvious, some not. Just follow the flags until you get back to this point." "Simple enough," Zeke said, already mentally mapping the first segment. "And don''t forget to wear the weights!" Ingrid called as he turned to go. Right. The weights. Zeke had almost managed to convince himself she''d forget those. With a quick nod, he changed into the special weighted training robes she''d had made for him. The extra thirty pounds immediately pulled at his shoulders and legs, but he straightened his back and rolled his neck. "Perfect for mountain climbing," he said with more enthusiasm than he felt. "The added weight simulates the climbing gear and supplies you''ll need for the actual Trial," Ingrid explained. "Better to train heavy now than struggle on the mountain later." "Makes sense," Zeke agreed, bouncing on his toes to adjust to the new weight. "Alright, here goes nothing!" He took three steps toward the first flag when a tripwire caught his ankle. Something whizzed through the air, and he instinctively ducked as a rock shot over his head. "Hey!" he yelled, spinning around. "That''s the way this game is played," Ingrid called, settling against her tree. "Try not to let it slow you down!" Zeke shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. "So that''s how it''s going to be." He turned back to the path, eyes now scanning for telltale signs of traps. This was going to be fun. Moving more cautiously, he spotted another thread stretched across the trail and hopped over it. A branch swung harmlessly below him as he cleared the trap. His confidence building, he picked up speed, watching for disturbed soil, unusual piles of leaves, or anything that seemed out of place. As he approached the first flag, he noticed a small pile of rocks that seemed just a bit too carefully arranged. Circling widely around it, he reached up and snatched the flag. A sharp snap sounded as a tree branch whipped through the space where he''d been standing a moment before. "See! You''re already learning!" Ingrid''s distant voice called. "You wouldn''t be learning if it didn''t hurt!" Zeke laughed, tucking the flag into his pocket as a souvenir. Spotting the next red flash through the trees, he took off at a steady jog, eyes constantly scanning the ground ahead. For the first hour, he navigated the forest section with growing skill. Sure, he triggered a few traps, a snare that caught his ankle but broke before it could lift him, a log that swung down and grazed his shoulder, but he was learning, adapting to Ingrid''s style of thinking. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡¸???????????????? ???????????? ????????????????¡¹ ¡¾Forest Section: 80% Complete¡¿ ¡¾Traps Avoided: 12¡¿ ¡¾Traps Triggered: 4¡¿ ¡¾Current Status: Minor bruising¡¿ The trail led him upward, the terrain growing steeper until he emerged onto the cliff that overlooked the rushing river below. The path narrowed to barely three feet wide, with sheer rock on one side and a hundred-foot drop on the other. "You''ve got to be kidding me," he muttered, eyeing the precarious route. Three red flags were spaced along the cliff edge, each fluttering in the breeze that seemed much stronger up here. Taking a deep breath, Zeke pressed forward, keeping his body low and center of gravity stable. The wind tugged at his weighted robes as he edged along the cliff face. Though he knew the river below had safety nets to catch falling students, the thought of plummeting that distance still sent his heart racing. Better to learn here than on the mountain, he reminded himself. He retrieved the first cliff flag without incident, then spotted a thin wire stretched across the path to the second. Rather than step over it, he dropped to his stomach and crawled underneath, suspecting a more complex trap than before. His caution was rewarded, as soon as he cleared the wire, a series of small rock projectiles shot from holes in the cliff wall, striking the path exactly where his chest would have been had he remained standing. "Clever," he murmured, gathering the second flag. The third flag hung from an outcropping that required him to stretch precariously over the edge. As his fingers closed around it, the rock beneath his feet shifted. Reacting instantly, he threw himself backward as the outer edge of the path crumbled away, sending rocks tumbling into the river below. Heart pounding, Zeke clutched the flag and pressed onward, leaving the cliff section behind. The weighted robes had nearly been his undoing there, a good reminder of how equipment could become a liability in certain situations. The trail plunged back into the trees, darker and denser than before. He recognized this area, the edge of the Dark Forest, a place most students avoided even in daylight. The shadows seemed to move of their own accord here, and sounds were muffled in unsettling ways. "Of course she''d include this," Zeke muttered, but squared his shoulders and pressed on. The Dark Forest section proved the most challenging yet. Flags hung over thick clusters of briars that required him to hack through with his sword. Hidden in the brambles were trip lines that released snares, spring-loaded branches, and even nets of leaves hiding shallow pits. One particularly clever trap caught him completely off guard, a snare that flipped him upside down, suspending him six feet above the ground. After several failed attempts to reach the rope, he finally used his sword to cut himself free, landing hard on his head and shoulders. "That''s gonna leave a mark," he groaned, rubbing his neck as he got back to his feet. Still, he couldn''t help admiring Ingrid''s thoroughness. Each trap taught him something new about observation, reaction, or recovery. The pain was temporary, but the lessons would stay with him. By the time he reached the bridge spanning the raging river, the sun was low in the sky, touching the tops of the trees with golden light. Across the bridge, he spotted a red flag dangling from a rock on the far shore. Beyond that lay the desert section, a stark contrast to the shadowy forest behind him. "No way I''m finishing by nightfall," he realized, but the thought only made him more determined. Night navigation would be an essential skill on the mountain. He charged across the bridge, eyes alert for traps. Halfway across, he spotted a strange mechanism attached to the railing. Ducking instinctively, he avoided a small rock catapulted at his head. The projectile sailed harmlessly over him and plopped into the river below. "Getting predictable, Ingrid," he called to the empty forest, though he knew she couldn''t hear him. Retrieving the flag from the far shore, he squared his shoulders and stepped onto the desert path. The change was immediate and shocking, as if every drop of moisture had been sucked from his lungs. The air felt like fire in his throat, and his pace slowed dramatically within seconds. "What the," he gasped, fighting for breath. Unlike his previous runs with Elise through the desert, which had been challenging but manageable, this was overwhelming. He''d already been going for hours, his body depleted of energy and water, and now the desert''s harsh conditions hit him like a physical blow. The next flag waved mockingly from a stone outcropping about a hundred feet ahead. It might as well have been a mile. Gritting his teeth, Zeke forced his feet to move. "One step at a time," he told himself. "Just like the mountain will be." When he finally reached the stone, he found not only the flag but a small gift from Ingrid, a bottle of water and some dried fruit. The sight almost made him laugh with relief. Of course she wouldn''t let him die of dehydration. He drank sparingly, knowing he''d need to make the water last, and ate a few pieces of fruit to restore his energy. As he caught his breath, he noticed something strange, the temperature was dropping rapidly as the sun disappeared behind the distant trees. Within minutes, he could see his breath in the air. The desert, scorching by day, became frigid at night, a lesson he''d never have learned if not for Ingrid''s course. "Clever," he muttered, pulling his weighted robes tighter around himself. The night desert crossing was perhaps the most grueling part of the entire course. Fighting both exhaustion and cold, Zeke pushed himself forward from flag to flag. His muscles screamed for rest, but he knew that stopping meant surrendering to the cold. The weighted robes, a burden earlier, now became a blessing as they provided some insulation against the plummeting temperature. Still, his teeth chattered and his fingers grew numb as he trudged onward. "Keep moving, keep moving," became his mantra as he forced one foot in front of the other. As the hours passed, the desert crossing began to take on a dreamlike quality. The stars overhead seemed impossibly bright, the sand beneath his feet shifting like liquid silver in the moonlight. More than once, he found himself wondering if he''d wandered off course, only to spot another red flag guiding him onward. Finally, when it seemed his body couldn''t take another step, he spotted something in the distance, a warm, flickering light. A campfire. With renewed determination, he pushed forward, the trees of the Old Woods growing closer with each step. The sight of greenery after hours in the barren desert was almost enough to make him weep with relief. As he staggered toward the edge of the desert, he spotted Ingrid sitting beside a cheerful fire, roasting chicken on a spit. She looked up as he approached and waved casually, as if he''d just been out for a stroll. "Hey! You finally made it. Come sit down." Relief flooding through him, Zeke stumbled forward. In his fatigue, his foot caught on a rock, and a familiar twang sounded. He instinctively ducked, but the projectile struck him square in the chest anyway. "You should have stepped sideways," Ingrid remarked as he groaned. "I ducked," Zeke replied, rubbing his bruised ribs. "Yeah, and now you''re dead," Ingrid shrugged. "Come on, dead man. Have a seat." Despite the pain, Zeke couldn''t help laughing as he collapsed onto a log by the fire. Now that he was out of the desert, the air felt remarkably warmer, though his body still shook with cold and exhaustion. Ingrid tossed a blanket around his shoulders. "Come on, a bit closer to the fire. You''ll be alright." The warmth of the flames began to seep into his chilled bones. For a few moments, he simply sat there, enjoying the sensation of not moving, of being warm and relatively safe. "That was..." he began. "Brutal? Unfair? Excessive?" Ingrid supplied. "Awesome," Zeke finished with a grin. "Hardest thing I''ve ever done, but exactly what I needed." Ingrid raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by his response. She handed him a piece of chicken, which he accepted gratefully. "I wanted to put you through the worst situation I could," she explained. "Was it fair? Maybe not, but I''d bet you''re a step closer to mastering the Mountain Run." "Definitely," Zeke agreed, taking a bite of the juicy meat. His stomach growled loudly, reminding him how long it had been since lunch. He started wolfing down the food before Ingrid held up a warning hand. "Easy there. Eat too much right after a run like that, and you''ll lose it all." Zeke slowed down, savoring each bite. "So how did I do? Really?" "Not too shabby, all things considered," Ingrid said, poking at the fire. After a moment, she looked up at him. "Are you scared? About the Trial?" Zeke considered lying, then thought better of it. "A little, if I''m being honest." "Good." "Good?" he echoed in surprise. "Fear is what keeps you alive on the battlefield. Or anywhere, really," Ingrid explained, her face serious in the firelight. "Courage isn''t the absence of fear, it''s having the wisdom to know when fear is rational, when it isn''t, and when to proceed even when the odds don''t look good. Fear tells us not to play with snakes or walk too close to cliff edges. Trying to crush your fear is just stupidity." "Huh," Zeke considered her words. "You sound like you know a lot about it." Ingrid hesitated, then sighed. "If I''m being honest, I''m scared most of the time. I know I don''t fit in here. I may not technically be a commoner, but I''m one in all but name. I don''t have the noble family connections. All I am is a woman who happens to be good with a sword and who knows how to storm castles. I''m an asset, nothing more." "That''s not true," Zeke said firmly. "You''re more than that to your friends. To me." Ingrid looked away, uncomfortable with the sentiment. "As I said, crushing fear is stupidity. When you were out in the desert, did you feel afraid?" "More than a little," Zeke admitted. "It was the cold that got me. I knew I couldn''t stop or I''d freeze." "And that fear kept you moving forward," Ingrid nodded. "It kept you pushing along, even when every part of you wanted to quit. You were more exhausted than when you were in the forest, but fear pushed you to heights you never would have reached otherwise." "I guess you''re right," Zeke agreed, watching the flames dance. "I know I''m right," Ingrid said with unusual intensity. "When you get up on that mountain, let yourself feel the fear. Don''t let it control you, but don''t ignore it either. That awareness will keep you alive, more than any training I can put you through." They fell silent for a while, each lost in their own thoughts as the fire crackled between them. Zeke felt himself beginning to drift, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with him. "Hey, Ingrid?" he said finally. "Hmm?" "Thank you. For all of this," he gestured at the remnants of the obstacle course. "Nobody else would have gone to this much trouble." "Don''t make it weird, Godfrey," she replied, but there was a small smile on her face. "No, I mean it," Zeke insisted. "Everyone''s been helping me in their own way, Victoria with combat training, Elise with her knowledge of plants and survival, even Ralph with..." he paused, "well, okay, Ralph''s mostly just moral support. But you''ve really pushed me. Made me stronger than I thought I could be." Ingrid stared into the fire for a long moment before responding. "When I was younger, my father wanted a son. He got me instead. Every day, he pushed me twice as hard as any boy, said I had to be twice as good to be considered half as worthy." She looked up at Zeke. "I hated him for years because of it. Now I understand he was preparing me for a world that would never give me a fair chance." "Is that what you''re doing for me?" Zeke asked. "Preparing me for an unfair challenge?" "The Mountain Run isn''t designed to be fair, especially not with cultists leaving traps for you," Ingrid replied. "Neither is life. The sooner you accept that, the better your chances." Zeke nodded slowly. "Well, your methods may be brutal, but they work. If I survive the Mountain Run, it''ll be partly thanks to you." "When," Ingrid corrected. "When you survive." "Right," Zeke grinned. "When." As they sat together under the stars, Zeke felt a strange sense of peace despite his aching body. He had faced Ingrid''s gauntlet and come through it changed, stronger, more aware, better prepared for what lay ahead. The Mountain Run was still a formidable challenge, but now, for the first time, he truly believed he could conquer it. ¡¸???????????????? ???????????? ??????????????????¡¹ ¡¾Time: 6 hours, 42 minutes¡¿ ¡¾Terrain Mastered: Forest, Cliff, Dark Forest, Desert¡¿ ¡¾Lesson Learned: Fear can be fuel¡¿ ¡¾Status: Exhausted but alive¡¿ [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning, Golden Touch [Active Quests:] [Mountain Heights: Prepare for the Mountain Run (ongoing)] 55. Never a Dull Moment [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Estate - Dining Hall] [Date: May 5, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] Zeke staggered into the dining hall just in time for dinner, his legs feeling like lead after another brutal training session. Victoria had pushed him extra hard today, three full circuits around the castle walls while wearing the weighted training gear. His muscles burned with every step, but he couldn''t help feeling a rush of satisfaction. Each day brought him closer to being ready for the Mountain Run. The dining hall buzzed with the usual evening chatter, students clustered around tables discussing classes, gossip, and weekend plans. The smell of fresh bread and roasted meat filled the air, making Zeke''s stomach growl. He grabbed a heaping plate of food and found an empty spot near the window. He''d barely taken his first bite when Elise dropped into the seat across from him. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and she looked as tired as he felt. "Elise!" He glanced at the clock mounted above the entrance. It was well past 6:00, dinner service almost over. "What are you doing here so late? Not that I''m not happy to see you, but," "I got held up with my personal instructor," Elise sighed, dropping her satchel beneath the table. "She''s starting on my end-of-year assessments. Assuming I can pass them, I won''t have to deal with her come next year, so... let''s hope." "If there''s anything I can do, just let me know," Zeke offered between bites. He''d learned early on that food disappeared quick in the dining hall, especially when he was this hungry. "You''re not looking at failing your classes, are you?" "No, no!" Elise waved her hand dismissively while filling her plate from a passing serving tray. "Unless I really blow the last few weeks of the Spring semester, I''m not looking at expulsion or anything. The assessment I''m doing right now essentially looks at how well I''ve ''integrated'' into the community of the Academy." She took a large bite of bread before continuing. "If my instructor determines that I''ve done a good enough job, then I''m free to mingle at my own pleasure come next year. Honestly, I don''t think it would be a problem, except for the stuff I''ve been doing with the cooking class." Zeke frowned, finishing off his first helping of potatoes. "What''s the big problem with the cooking class? I thought everyone loved those herb-roasted vegetables you made last week." "There is some concern that I am..." Elise paused, putting on a pompous voice. "How did she phrase it? I am ''exerting an influence on the Academy that is not in accordance with the values of the hierarchy of the Kingdom of Athia.''" "Oh, come on," Zeke snorted, shaking his head. "You''re doing nothing of the sort." "Yeah, but I have nobles actually enjoying the process of cooking," Elise held up a hand to her mouth in mock horror. "Imagine the scandal! The next thing you know, they''ll be cleaning their own rooms, and then the servants will all be fired, and before long, all the nobles will abandon their principles and just become commoners themselves, ensuring a total and complete collapse of the nation." Zeke laughed, almost choking on his drink. "The horror! Nobles learning basic life skills!" "As if being a commoner is that bad anyway," Elise muttered, stabbing at her food. "If you''re worried they might enjoy being a commoner more than a noble, perhaps you should rethink how your noble system works." Zeke laughed again and was about to respond when he noticed someone approaching their table. His smile faded as he turned to see who it was. Jack De''Minziar, Diocletian''s cousin and suspected cult member, swept up to their table with an easy smile. He gave them a slight bow, his expensive silk robes rustling softly. "Hey, guys," Jack''s voice was overly sweet, like honey masking something bitter. "I was just checking in on you. You two both seemed so fond of the board game club back at the beginning of the year, but I haven''t seen anything of you for the last... well, it''s been a while." Zeke tensed but kept his expression neutral. The board game club had been one of his first activities at Leoncrest, before he''d learned about the cult operating within the Academy walls. Before he''d seen Jack participating in that midnight ritual in the Dark Forest. "Sorry," Zeke replied easily, offering an apologetic smile. "I''ve been training for the next Trial. My trainers have me running myself ragged, I haven''t been able to catch a break." Jack turned to Elise, who shrugged and wiped her mouth with a napkin. "I enjoyed it, but if I''m being honest, I came with Zeke." "Well, it doesn''t look like you''re doing anything now," Jack gestured toward the door, his smile never reaching his eyes. "Want to come along? We''d love to have you." Zeke noticed the way Jack''s gaze lingered on him just a bit too long. Was this a trap? Probably. But declining might seem suspicious too. "I''m sorry, but I just got back from three laps around the castle walls," Zeke sighed, rolling his shoulders for effect. "I''m bushed. I just need to get to bed." Jack shrugged, his disappointment seeming genuine. "Well, suit yourself. Just know that we miss you, and we''d love to see you again. If you decide to come tonight after all, just show up." With that, he turned and walked off. As soon as he was out of earshot, Zeke let out a long breath and leaned back in his chair. Before he could speak, Elise leaned forward, eyes intense. "You should have taken him up on it!" she whispered fiercely. "I should have what?" Zeke blinked. "He''s only inviting us because he..." He lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. "Because he wants to kill us! Or interrogate us or something." "Precisely," Elise nodded, a gleam in her eye. "So what better way to spy on him?" "I can think of dozens of better ways," Zeke crossed his arms. "Like not walking straight into a trap? It''s a terrible idea." "I think you''re just scared," Elise challenged, raising an eyebrow. "I''m exhausted! That part was true!" Zeke protested, though he had to admit, his curiosity was piqued. What were they up to in that club these days? "All I''m saying is that it''s not often that your mortal enemy invites you to come and take part in a friendly competition where you can pretty easily spy on him," Elise shrugged, gathering the last bits of food on her plate. "Doesn''t seem to me like it would be something you''d want to turn down." Zeke groaned, running a hand through his hair. The reasonable part of his brain told him to go straight back to his room and get some rest before tomorrow''s training. But another part, the part that had gotten him into and out of trouble his whole life, whispered that this was too good an opportunity to pass up. "Fine," he said finally, pushing his plate away. "Fine, what?" Elise blinked, suddenly all innocence. "You win. Let''s go," Zeke stood up, stretching his tired muscles. She flashed him a triumphant smile. "I win? But in what? This is entirely your decision, not mine." "Oh, cut it out," Zeke scowled, though there wasn''t much heat behind it. "You''re just covering yourself for when he tries to kill us or something." "Is it working?" she asked brightly. "No," Zeke started walking toward the exit. "Now come on!" Elise laughed and followed him, both of them quickly making their way through the Academy''s winding halls. The evening light streamed through high windows, casting long shadows across the polished floors. As they climbed the stairs to Tower 10, Zeke felt his stomach tighten. Jack, along with whoever else in the club happened to be part of the cult, would be watching him like a hawk. He needed to be on guard, observant of every interaction, every glance. "Remember," he whispered to Elise as they approached the club room, "we''re just here because we changed our minds about a fun night of board games." "Obviously," Elise replied. "I''m not an amateur, you know." Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. When they entered the room, Jack looked up from a game he was monitoring, and for a split second, Zeke caught a flash of something, surprise? concern?, cross the boy''s face. It vanished instantly, replaced by a welcoming smile as he strode forward. "Zeke! Elise! You guys made it after all!" Jack clasped Zeke''s hand, shaking it firmly. "Pick your poison. A bunch of our upper-levels are doing assessments and things, which has us low on players tonight." The large circular room was indeed less crowded than Zeke remembered from his previous visits. About a dozen students were scattered around tables, engrossed in various games. Some Zeke recognized, others he didn''t. He noted which students sat together, trying to spot any obvious cult members among them. "What about some of those mid-weight games?" Zeke asked, scanning the room. "I haven''t tried any of those yet." "Sounds great to me! We''ve got about twenty of them," Jack led them to a small shelf of elaborately carved wooden boxes. "There are some that are two-player, and some that need more. They''re all themed in one way or another, and the gameplay mechanics match the theme. There''s a craftsman in the Capital that''s been making these things for decades, and now his son is producing them as well. Anyway, dive in! I can explain the rules to any of them once you''ve decided." Zeke examined the titles, running his fingers along the intricate carvings on each box. There were games about city building, delivering messages, growing forests (and chopping them down), farming, bees, managing a noble house, "Zeke!" Elise squealed suddenly, snatching one off the shelf. "Look at this!" She held up a wooden box with "Berry Patch" carved into the lid, accompanied by an engraving of someone picking berries with a bear in the background. Zeke couldn''t help smiling at her enthusiasm, and the perfect reminder of their adventure in the woods. "This is a fun one," Jack nodded, motioning for them to sit at an empty table. "Pretty simple compared to some of his games, but it was one of the first ones that he released. Basically..." He opened the box, revealing a beautifully crafted hexagonal board and several small wooden pieces. "You have this hexagonal board covered in little tiles. The tiles are shuffled and put face down, and then each player takes a pawn and takes turns moving through the berry patch. You harvest berries by flipping over the tiles, then taking the corresponding number of berries from the supply." Jack continued explaining as he set up the board. "Most of the tiles have berries, some have things like birds or bunnies, and one has a bear. When the bear comes out, whoever found it loses half their berries, all tiles are reshuffled, and gameplay continues." "Perfect," Elise said, already choosing a pawn, a small wooden figure painted to look like a girl with a basket. Zeke selected his own pawn, a boy with a satchel, and they began to play. The game was indeed simple enough that he could divide his attention between playing and watching Jack''s interactions around the room. ¡¸?????????? ???????? ??????????????¡¹ ¡¾Game: Berry Patch¡¿ ¡¾Players: Zeke, Elise¡¿ ¡¾Objective: Gather the most berries¡¿ ¡¾Hidden Objective: Monitor cult activity¡¿ Jack seemed to be a social butterfly, bouncing from table to table. He''d stop and chat with players for a few minutes, offer advice or commentary on their games, then move on to the next group. Zeke noticed, however, that Jack visited their table far less frequently than others. Instead, Jack spent most of his time with a few students who looked particularly shifty, a tall, thin boy with lank hair who kept glancing Zeke''s way, and two girls who spoke in hushed tones whenever Jack approached them. Zeke was willing to bet they were all part of the cult. "Your move," Elise prompted, interrupting his surveillance. Zeke moved his pawn and flipped a tile, revealing three berries. "Nice," he murmured, collecting the wooden berry tokens from the supply. As they continued playing, Elise leaned slightly closer. "Approaching from your left," she whispered, not looking up from the board. "Watch this one." A female student with short black hair and sharp eyes swept past their table, deliberately slow. Zeke felt her gaze on them, likely trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. He and Elise switched to casual chatter about classes and upcoming exams until she moved on. By the time the berry game neared its end, Zeke had mental notes on at least five students he suspected were cult members. Elise was winning handily, her pile of berry tokens nearly twice the size of his. "You''re suspiciously good at this," Zeke commented as she collected another four berries. "I grew up foraging," she replied with a grin. "This is just another day in the woods for me." Just as Elise was about to make her final move, Jack returned to their table and sat down. His previous friendliness had faded somewhat, replaced by a more calculated expression. "Do... do you mind if I ask you something, Zeke?" Zeke moved his pawn casually and collected three more berries. "Sure, what is it?" he replied, keeping his tone light. "What''s it like to have so much pressure on you?" The question caught Zeke off guard, but he maintained his neutral expression. "That''s an odd sort of question." "Sorry, sorry, I guess I phrased it badly," Jack backpedaled, adjusting his sleeve. "I don''t know, I just... I''m a noble, sure, but I''m not the heir, and even the heirs that I know aren''t under as much pressure as you. It has to be strange to have that much put on you. I only ask because you''ve been excelling at everything, and... I don''t know." He sighed, looking almost sincere. "I probably sound like I''m rambling." "Maybe a little," Zeke laughed, trying to put Jack at ease while staying alert. "I get it, though. No..." He paused thoughtfully. "It''s really hard, if I''m being honest. I mean, for the start of my time here, I spent every afternoon training on how to use my Aura, because I just never used it at all growing up. I''m still taking sparring lessons in the mornings because my swordplay isn''t where it needs to be, and I''m doing extra running now to get ready for the Mountain Run. It''s a lot, to have so many hopes and dreams resting upon you." Elise watched the exchange silently, her fingers idly stacking berry tokens. "Yeah, yeah," Jack nodded eagerly, leaning forward. "So... I guess here''s what I''m asking. And I know this is going to sound bad, but like... how do you do it?" "Lots of hard work. Elbow grease," Zeke answered with a small laugh. "Nothing fancy about it." "Yeah, but there''s more to it," Jack pressed, his voice dropping lower. "No one could have done the things that you have without a little help." "I''ve had lots of help," Zeke agreed easily. "Professor Gerald, and then," "Stop," Jack held up a hand, his friendly fa?ade slipping. "You know what I''m saying." Zeke frowned, genuinely confused by Jack''s sudden intensity. He''d assumed the boy was probing for information about breaking into Professor Karl''s office, but this seemed different. "I honestly don''t have a clue what you''re saying," he replied, meeting Jack''s gaze steadily. "I''m not trying to be difficult, I just," "Come on. Some of the professors I''m familiar with have detected odd Aura fluctuations around you," Jack said, dropping all pretenses. "Sorry to cut to the chase, but I know you have something. What did you manage to score, and where''d you get it? Is it something from the De''Godfrey Estate? Is that the secret of the De''Godfrey warriors? Do you have a pact with some dark patron or something?" Zeke''s eyes widened as understanding dawned. "Wait... you''re talking about..." He fell silent, mind racing. Someone must have detected the Aura Gems that he and Ingrid had retrieved from the old mine. Rather than suspecting theft, they assumed it was either some sort of Aura-enhancing drug, or a pact with one of the numerous dark entities always threatening the realm. Jack''s eyes narrowed dangerously. "And if that''s the case, did you break into Professor Karl''s office to try and steal more power?" So that was what they thought. They didn''t realize Zeke had witnessed their ritual; they only suspected he''d broken into the office searching for whatever power source they possessed. Which meant Professor Karl likely had something in his office connected to dark entities, something that granted power. The pieces were starting to click into place. Zeke kept his voice steady. "I didn''t break into Professor Karl''s office." "But you hired someone to do it," Jack snapped, leaning closer. "Hired isn''t the most accurate term," Zeke replied carefully. There was no use playing completely dumb now. "And they didn''t get anything of power." Jack''s jaw tightened. "You''ve got a lot of nerve, De''Godfrey." Something in Zeke suddenly rebelled against playing defense. He was tired of being pushed around, threatened, and cornered. Without fully planning it, he slowly stood up, pushing back his chair with deliberate force. Jack shrank back slightly, obviously not expecting this reaction. "So do you, daring to bring this before me," Zeke said, his voice low but firm. Several nearby tables fell silent, players watching the exchange with interest. "You''re right when you say that I have a lot going on. Let me make one thing perfectly clear, though. I haven''t done it with any substances, and I haven''t done it with any power-enhancing drugs or pacts or anything of the sort. What you see is what you get, and if you dare to threaten my family again, I will make sure that you pay for it." Jack had turned slightly pale. "I didn''t threaten your family." "No, but you threatened me, and I''m doing this for them," Zeke replied. After a moment, he relaxed his posture and sat back down. No sense creating a scene that would draw more attention than necessary. "But that, I believe, is business for another place. In this room, we only defeat each other in board games. Care to join us? We''re just about done with this one." Jack swallowed visibly, clearly thrown off balance. If Zeke''s guess was right, Jack was just a pawn, likely sent by Professor Karl to probe him for information. Now, not only had he learned nothing useful, but he''d been sent off in the wrong direction entirely. "I... should check on the other games," Jack muttered, rising from the table. "Let me know if you need anything else." He hurried away, stopping to whisper urgently to the tall, thin boy Zeke had noticed earlier. Both of them glanced back at Zeke before continuing their hushed conversation. "Well, that was interesting," Elise murmured, placing her final berry token on her pile. "I believe I''ve won, by the way." "Congratulations," Zeke replied absently, his mind still processing what had just happened. "I think we should wrap up soon. I don''t want to push our luck." "Agreed," Elise said, beginning to pack up the game. "Though I''d say your little display of backbone definitely caught them off guard." Zeke helped her return the pieces to the box, keeping one eye on Jack and his associates. They were definitely watching, though trying to be subtle about it. "Ready?" he asked once everything was cleaned up. Elise nodded, and they made their goodbyes to the room at large, thanking Jack for the invitation. As they walked toward the door, Zeke felt the weight of numerous stares on his back. He kept his shoulders squared and his pace unhurried, refusing to show any sign of nervousness. Only when they had descended the tower stairs and turned down an empty corridor did Zeke let out a long breath. "That was... tense," Elise said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "But informative," Zeke replied, glancing back to ensure they weren''t being followed. "They think I have some sort of power enhancement, probably sensing the Aura Gems. And they don''t seem to know I was the one who saw their ritual." "Which means they don''t know exactly what we know," Elise concluded, nodding. "That''s useful." "Very," Zeke agreed. "And it sounds like Professor Karl has something in his office that gives power, maybe connected to whatever entity they were contacting in the forest that night." They walked in thoughtful silence for a moment, passing a group of students heading back to their dormitories before curfew. The Academy bells would be ringing soon. "We should tell Victoria and Ingrid about this," Elise suggested as they reached a junction where their paths would separate. "Ingrid especially, she might have ideas about what kinds of ''Aura fluctuations'' they could be detecting from the gems." "Good thinking. I''ll talk to them tomorrow," Zeke agreed. "For now, we should get back before curfew. And..." he hesitated, "maybe be extra careful for the next few days. Jack might have backed down, but I doubt they''ll let this drop completely." "I''ll keep my eyes open," Elise promised, then flashed him a grin. "This spying business is quite exciting, isn''t it?" [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning, Golden Touch [Active Quests:] [Play the Part: Make sure that Jack doesn''t catch on to the truth] 56. Fireside [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Estate - Training Woods] [Date: May 10, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] "Go! Go! Go!" Ingrid''s voice echoed through the trees. "You can do it!" Zeke charged forward, the weighted training robes threatening to drag him down with every step. Ahead of him, Ingrid had created what could only be described as a gauntlet from hell, trip wires, branches positioned at awkward heights, and hidden pit traps scattered throughout the forest path. He ducked under a low-hanging branch, only to spot a wire stretched across the path. Without breaking stride, he leaped over it, feeling a rush of air as something swung harmlessly behind him. Three more strides and he spotted a suspicious pile of leaves. He veered sharply left, narrowly avoiding the pit trap concealed beneath. "Watch your right!" Victoria called from somewhere nearby. Zeke twisted just in time to see a rock hurling toward him from a spring-loaded contraption. He dropped into a roll, the stone sailing over his head and thudding against a distant tree trunk. Back on his feet in an instant, he sprinted the final stretch, throwing himself across the makeshift finish line marked by two red flags. His lungs burned and sweat poured down his face, but he couldn''t help grinning. Each day these courses got harder, and each day he got better. "Not bad," Victoria said, clapping softly as she approached. Her red hair was tied back in a tight braid, and despite the heat, she looked perfectly composed. "I''d say your practice is paying off." "Yeah!" Elise cheered from where she''d been monitoring the course. "You''re doing great!" Zeke pushed himself to his feet, shaking off the exhaustion. The weighted robes felt like they''d gained ten pounds during the run, but he stood tall anyway. "Is there a reason why we needed to have everyone present?" he asked, glancing at Ingrid as she walked over. "When you run on the mountain, you''re going to have a lot of people watching you," she explained, checking her stopwatch. "Mostly at the start and the end, I''ll admit, but you''re going to need to be able to work under that sort of pressure. It''s not the easiest thing in the world, even though it sounds simple." "Makes sense," Zeke nodded, walking over to lean against a large tree trunk. "Thanks for coming out here, everyone. I really do appreciate it. It''s nice to know you all care." "Hey, we''re here for you," Victoria said, slapping him on the back. Without warning, she drew her sword, the blade gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. "How about a bit of sparring practice, eh?" Zeke looked at her outstretched hand, then down at his still-trembling legs. "Nope. Not right now." "Your trainer for this part of your regiment says that you now have to do some sparring," Ingrid called out, a hint of mischief in her voice. "Oh... fine," Zeke sighed, drawing his own sword. The weighted robes made even this simple motion feel like lifting a boulder. "Let''s do this." He settled into a defensive stance, knowing he was at a severe disadvantage. Victoria circled him slowly, her footwork flawless as always. When she struck, it was like lightning, three quick blows that Zeke barely managed to parry before she knocked his sword clean from his hand. "Another round?" Victoria asked, not even breathing hard. Zeke retrieved his sword, determination flashing in his eyes. "You bet." The second match went much like the first. Victoria disarmed him with seemingly minimal effort, though Zeke managed to last a few seconds longer. From her perch on a nearby stump, Elise used her magic to create glowing numbers in the air, tracking the score between them. Round after round, Victoria''s tally grew. 5-0 became 10-0, then 15-0. By the time it reached 21-0, Zeke''s arms felt like lead, but his spirit remained unbroken. "I''m not letting you completely shut me out!" he declared, drawing himself up to his full height. "Activate all Emblems!" Light flashed around him as his three Emblems activated simultaneously. Strength surged through his tired muscles, and the weighted robes suddenly felt like feathers. With a warrior''s cry, he charged forward, swinging with everything he had. Victoria, caught off guard by his sudden burst of speed, tried to sidestep but her foot slipped on a flat rock. Zeke''s practice sword connected, sending her tumbling to the ground. "There! One point," he announced triumphantly, turning to where Elise had updated the score to 21-1. He grinned, wiping sweat from his brow. "Alright. Best 22 out of 45?" Just as the words left his mouth, his Emblems deactivated all at once. The crushing weight of the training robes returned without warning, and Zeke collapsed in a heap, his legs giving out beneath him. Victoria laughed as she got to her feet, brushing dirt from her training clothes. "Yeah, I think that sounds about right." "I''m done," Zeke groaned, sprawled on his back. "Don''t care if there''s a werewolf coming at me, I''m done." The girls laughed and helped him to his feet. Together, they made their way to a small campsite they''d set up earlier. They weren''t planning to stay the night, but Elise had insisted they have a proper meal after training. "Go change out of those weighted robes," Ingrid said, giving him a push toward the trees. "You''ve earned a break." Zeke nodded gratefully and stepped away to change. When he returned in his regular Academy robes, the campsite had been transformed. A fire crackled in a stone-lined pit, sending sparks dancing toward the darkening sky. Elise had arranged mushrooms and berries she''d foraged earlier, while Victoria unpacked sausages and bread brought from the Academy kitchens. ¡¸???????????????? ??????????????¡¹ ¡¾Obstacle Course: Completed¡¿ ¡¾Sparring Record: 1-21¡¿ ¡¾Weight Training: Ongoing¡¿ ¡¾Days Until Mountain Run: 15¡¿ The sun had nearly set now, casting long shadows through the trees as they prepared their meal. Ingrid produced a bottle of sweet-tasting wine, pouring modest glasses for everyone while Elise arranged the sausages over the fire. The smell of cooking meat filled the air, making Zeke''s stomach growl. "Oh, this is the life," he sighed contentedly, leaning back against a stump. "Not that I particularly enjoy the training, mind you, but this? This is nice." "To Zeke," Victoria said, raising her glass as the sausages began to sizzle. "And to your success." Everyone raised their glasses in unison, the firelight reflecting off the dark liquid. After the toast, they fell into comfortable silence, enjoying the peaceful evening. Insects chirped in the undergrowth, and occasionally dark shapes, nightingales or perhaps bats, darted overhead against the purpling sky. "So, what''s everyone going to do when they get out of the Academy?" Elise asked suddenly, breaking the silence. When everyone turned to look at her, she shrugged. "Just making conversation." Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Victoria took a small sip of wine before answering. "I''ll be returning to my House. I have a position waiting for me, overseeing our armies. Just some of them at first, but I''m in line to be the general of the House." Her expression turned thoughtful. "I don''t know exactly what war that may bring me into, and it''s possible that I''ll never see any action, but I''ll be in charge of making sure that we can deploy at a moment''s notice if needed." "That''s impressive," Zeke said, genuinely admiring her clear path. "Your family must have a lot of confidence in you." "They expect nothing less," Victoria replied, her tone matter-of-fact rather than boastful. "What about you, Ingrid?" Ingrid shrugged, turning a sausage over the fire. "Head back to my family, use the connections I''ve made here to help us get our feet into the noble circuit of Athia, and... yeah." A mischievous smile crossed her face. "Maybe attack House Minziar, just for the fun of it. Seriously, the nobles of the land used to just attack each other to resolve their differences instead of sitting around in some boring Senate chamber. Might be time to revive that old tradition." "I''d pay good money to see you storm Diocletian''s family estate," Zeke chuckled, helping himself to a perfectly cooked sausage. "What about you, Elise?" Victoria asked, passing around mushrooms speared on sticks. "Assuming I pass, I''ll head down to the Capital as a trained mage," Elise said, her face glowing in the firelight. "Lots of good work for a mage there, and I ought to be able to send some money home to my family." Her voice grew softer. "Hopefully I can get married and have a family of my own, and then we''ll all move out to the village where I grew up, once we can afford to do so. I want my own kids to have the background that I had." "I''m glad you can aspire to that," Ingrid muttered. Everyone looked at her sharply, and she suddenly clamped her mouth shut, as if she hadn''t meant to say it aloud. "What?" Zeke pressed gently. "I thought you liked growing up as a mercenary." Ingrid sighed deeply, poking at the fire with a stick. "I did, and I didn''t. It was fun, moving from place to place, and seeing everyone respect you. They knew that we were dangerous, that we meant business. Not many people would mess with us, I''ll tell you that much." She paused, staring into the flames. "That said... I just... Every time my father would go into battle, or my brother, or my mother... it was always so terrifying. If you''re a farmer, and your father goes out to work in the fields, you don''t ordinarily worry about them coming home alive." "True," Zeke murmured, thinking of his own brother''s dangerous mission. "But when they do come home, it''s epic." "Also true," Ingrid agreed with a small smile. "None of my close family ever died in combat. I''m certainly looking forward, though, to a time when we can make our living by threatening to attack other places instead of actually doing it." They ate in silence for a moment, the crackling fire filling the quiet. Just when Zeke thought Ingrid was done, she continued, her voice taking on an unusual softness. "I think I told you once about the first battle I ever witnessed directly. My grandma took me in this carriage to the top of a hill overlooking a castle, so I could watch everything without being in harm''s way." She paused, her eyes distant with memory. "It was amazing. We had about a thousand people, attacking this castle held by around five hundred cultists." "That sounds like good odds," Elise commented, leaning forward with interest. "Not really," Ingrid shook her head. "You can generally expect that one man in a castle can hold off about ten men outside a castle. It was worse odds than we would have liked, but the king of the area told us that if we didn''t get them out quickly, there was a high chance of the world ending. Or, at least, of some really bad stuff happening." "Do you think it would have actually happened?" Elise asked eagerly. "I don''t know," Ingrid frowned, refilling her wine glass. "My guess is that the world wouldn''t have ended, but when the raid was done, we found a workshop in the basement of the castle. They had been assembling these bombs there, and there were battle plans to lay siege to some of the nearby cities. We never did determine just why they wanted to do it, since they fought to the last man. No survivors, no surrenders." Zeke grimaced, his curiosity piqued. "Bombs? What exactly are those?" "Ah..." Ingrid''s expression turned thoughtful. "There are a few different types of bombs. Way out to the east, some nations have developed this stuff that explodes when it catches fire. I''ve seen it in action a few times, it''s kind of amazing, actually. There are several variants, which again, comes from different nations running different experiments." She gestured with her hands as she explained. "It comes in a powdered form, and when you pack it into a really, really tight space, when it catches fire, it just... it can do a ton of damage. I''ve heard of it being used to knock down castle walls." "Knock down castle walls?" Zeke''s jaw dropped. "How?" "Well, if the castle doesn''t have a moat, and you can get right up close to the wall, all you have to do is dig a little hole underneath, doesn''t even have to be a big one, and ram the bomb inside. Light a fuse, that''s like a string attached to the bomb, and then run." Ingrid''s eyes gleamed with excitement as she described it. "One of the crazier uses is in this thing called a cannon. They basically make this tube that''s closed at one end, about this wide," she held her hands about a foot apart, "and about as long as that log right there." She pointed to a fallen tree nearby. "They''ll have frames to put them on, and then they''ll ram a bomb down the tube, toss in this little iron ball, and then light the bomb''s fuse. The explosion throws the iron ball sort of like a bow throws an arrow. It can fling a projectile... I''ve heard it can launch one several miles, though the accuracy goes down at such a range." "And it''s not magic?" Elise asked, amazed. "Nope. I''ve heard rumors of some variants that incorporate enchantments into the powder, but from what I understand, that sort of stuff is so dangerous that even the eastern nations have banned all research on it." Ingrid paused, lowering her voice. "Research on all forms of bombs in Athia is formally forbidden as well, though I happen to be aware that there are a few top-secret institutions working on it, mostly in the event that we happen to be invaded by a more powerful army." As Ingrid finished her explanation, Zeke found himself staring into the fire, his mind turning over the implications. Something about her story nagged at him. "What about you, Zeke?" Victoria asked, breaking into his thoughts. "What will you do after completing the 34 Trials?" The question caught him off guard. He''d been so focused on the Trials themselves, he hadn''t given much thought to what came after. "I guess I hadn''t really thought that far ahead," he admitted. "First priority is restoring House Godfrey''s standing. After that..." He shrugged. "Help Artax rebuild our forces, I suppose. He''ll need someone he can trust at his side." "So you''ll still serve as his sword," Elise said softly. "Always," Zeke nodded. "Though hopefully with fewer people trying to kill me on a daily basis." "I wouldn''t count on that," Victoria chuckled. "Noble life is just backstabbing with better clothes." As the laughter died down, Zeke turned back to Ingrid. "Sorry to circle back around to this, but do you remember anything else about that cult? Like symbols or markings they used?" "You''re wondering if it had any connection to the cult here?" Ingrid raised an eyebrow. When Zeke shrugged, she did the same. "I honestly don''t know. I''ve wondered the same thing since I got here. As I think back on it... I do wonder, but... I don''t know. Maybe my brain is just inserting things where there shouldn''t be anything, you know?" She paused, her brow furrowed. "Like... for example, I feel like I remember seeing owl masks lying around, but I honestly don''t know if that''s because there were any, or just because you mentioned seeing the owl-shaped fire. Maybe I saw something about dragons in their battle plans, but then again, maybe I didn''t. I honestly don''t know, but I wish that I did." "That''s alright," Zeke said. "I appreciate it anyway. And regardless, I''m grateful for all the help you''ve been willing to give me, here and now." "You''re quite welcome," Ingrid replied, rising to her feet and stretching. "Well, nothing like a bit of after-dinner sparring. Shall we?" "What?" Zeke gulped, nearly choking on his last bite of sausage. "I''m kidding, I''m kidding," she laughed, her usual stern demeanor cracking. "But seriously, you should have seen the look on your face." Her expression grew more serious as she glanced up at the now-dark sky. "Now come on, it is after curfew, which means we''re going to need to do some serious sneaking to get back to our rooms." Zeke followed her gaze upward, where stars now glittered between the tree branches. The night had crept up on them while they were talking. "Great," he said, grinning despite himself. After all, what was life at Leoncrest without a little rule-breaking? "Nothing like a good stealth mission to end the day." They worked quickly to break down their small camp, burying the fire embers and packing away any evidence of their presence. Victoria insisted on checking the area three times, ensuring they left no trace behind. "Alright," Ingrid said finally, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The Academy has guardgoyles patrolling the grounds after curfew. They''re not the brightest creatures, but they have excellent night vision and they report directly to the Headmistress." "Great," Zeke muttered. "Just what we need." "We''ll take the eastern path back," Victoria suggested, shouldering her pack. "There''s more cover, and the guardgoyles tend to patrol the main walkways more heavily." As they set out through the darkened woods, Zeke couldn''t help but feel a thrill of excitement despite the risk. Sneaking back after curfew with his friends, dodging magical guardians, it was exactly the kind of adventure he''d dreamed about as a child. For all the danger and pressure of the Trials ahead, moments like these made it all worthwhile. His mind drifted back to Ingrid''s story about the cult and their bombs. Had they been one and the same as the cult operating at Leoncrest? If so, had their defeat at that castle been a catalyst for what was happening now? It was pure speculation, but fascinating to consider. The last time he''d directly encountered the cult had been right here in these woods, witnessing their ritual. The thought made him glance nervously at the shadows between the trees. Suddenly, getting back to the safety of his room seemed like an excellent idea. "Come on," he muttered to the others, picking up his pace. "Let''s show these guardgoyles how real sneaking is done." ¡¸?????? ??????????¡¹ ¡¾Guardgoyles: Get back to your room without being caught¡¿ ¡¾Difficulty: Moderate¡¿ ¡¾Teamwork Required: Yes¡¿ ¡¾Curfew Violation: Already in progress¡¿ As they approached the edge of the woods, they could see the looming silhouette of Leoncrest against the star-filled sky. Stone gargoyles perched on various rooftops and walkways, their eyes occasionally glowing as they scanned the grounds for rule-breakers. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning, Golden Touch [Active Quests:] [Guardgoyles: Get back to your room without being caught] 57. Rescue [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Estate - Training Woods] [Date: May 10, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] "Alright, here''s the plan," Ingrid whispered as they approached the Academy walls. Instead of heading toward the main gate, she veered right, toward a section where the stone was rough and weathered. "We''re not using the normal entrance. Too many guardgoyles patrol there." She pulled a grappling hook from her bag, testing its weight in her hand. With practiced ease, she swung it in a wide arc and sent it sailing over the wall. The hook caught with a soft clink. "You''ve done this before," Zeke observed with admiration. Ingrid tugged the rope to ensure it was secure. "Getting into castles is a specialty of mine." "I''ll go first," Victoria said, gripping the rope. "Keep watch while I climb." She scaled the wall with surprising agility, disappearing over the top. Elise went next, followed by Ingrid. When it was Zeke''s turn, he grabbed the rope and pulled himself up, feeling the strain in his arms after the day''s intense training. Still, he climbed steadily, heart racing with the thrill of the forbidden adventure. At the top, he found the others crouched in the shadows of a merlon. The Academy grounds spread before them, bathed in moonlight. Stone guardgoyles perched on rooftops and patrolled the walkways, their eyes gleaming with an eerie blue light. "What are those things exactly?" Zeke whispered as they watched a guardgoyle lumber past below. "Stone constructs," Elise explained. "They''re enchanted to patrol after curfew and catch any students out of bed. The older students say they eat rulebreakers, but that''s probably just a rumor." "Probably?" Zeke grinned. "Let''s not find out." Ingrid pointed to a path of shadows along the wall. "That''s our route. Stay low, move only when I signal, and don''t make a sound." They descended the inner wall using a drainage pipe, then crept from shadow to shadow, freezing whenever a guardgoyle turned in their direction. Zeke could hardly believe they were doing this, breaking curfew, sneaking past magical guardians, risking expulsion if caught. It was exactly the kind of adventure he''d dreamed about as a kid. When they reached the castle walls, Ingrid spotted an open window the guardgoyles used to enter and exit the building. They waited in tense silence as one of the stone sentinels clomped past, then Ingrid peered inside. "Alright," she whispered, turning back to them. "We''re close to Tower 2. When we get inside, girls will go one way, and Zeke will have to go another. You good with that, Zeke?" "No problem," Zeke nodded confidently. "I''ve snuck through the Academy before. This isn''t my first midnight adventure." "Good." Ingrid flashed him a rare smile. "Then we''ll catch you on the flip side. See you tomorrow! Or... whenever." "I''ll see you bright and early for training," Victoria added. "And I''ll see you for cooking class tomorrow night," Elise chimed in. With nods all around, the three women scrambled through the window one by one. Victoria stayed a moment to help pull Zeke up, and with one last whispered farewell, they split up. The girls headed toward Tower 2 while Zeke turned in the direction of his own dormitory in Tower 1. The moonlight streaming through the high windows created pools of silver light on the floor, beautiful, but dangerous, as they offered no cover. Zeke stuck to the shadows, moving from one darkened doorway to the next, freezing whenever he heard the distinctive scrape of stone feet on marble. The guardgoyles moved with surprising predictability, following the same routes each night. Zeke quickly learned their patterns, timing his dashes between hiding spots to avoid their glowing eyes. When one lumbered past the alcove where he hid, he counted under his breath, knowing exactly how far he could go before the next one appeared. This is actually kind of fun, he thought, feeling his heart race with each narrow escape. Better practice than any training course Ingrid could design. He was nearing the central corridor that led to Tower 1 when he heard footsteps behind him, light and quick, not the heavy tread of a guardgoyle. Instinctively, Zeke ducked into a shadowy doorway, pressing himself against the wall. A small mouse scurried up beside him, and Zeke frowned in confusion. An instant later, the mouse transformed into Elise, her face ashen white. "Elise?" Zeke whispered. "What''s going on?" She drew in a shaky breath. "It''s Victoria and Ingrid. They..." She bit her lip. "They just got captured by the guardgoyles!" Zeke felt his stomach drop. "What happened?" "We goofed," Elise explained, running a hand through her hair. "We miscounted some patrol steps, I think. A new guardgoyle appeared faster than we expected. We tried to hide behind some curtains, but before we could, they were on top of us. I managed to cloak myself with magic, but Victoria and Ingrid..." She shook her head. "We have to rescue them," Zeke said without hesitation, his eyes bright with determination. No way he was leaving his friends to face punishment alone. "Where were they heading?" "This way. Come on!" Elise transformed back into a mouse, and with a wave of her hand, cast a spell of invisibility over Zeke. He watched as a matching mouse with darker fur appeared on the floor below him, marking his invisible presence. They raced after the guardgoyles, passing a half dozen more of the stone sentinels on their patrol routes. Zeke also noticed other students hiding in shadows or crouched behind statues, apparently, they weren''t the only ones breaking curfew tonight. "Where do you think they''re taking them?" Zeke whispered. "I don''t know," Elise hissed back. "Now shut up. We''re invisible, not inaudible." One of the guardgoyles twisted its head around, staring directly at where they stood. For a heart-stopping moment, Zeke thought they''d been discovered, but then the creature turned away and continued on. The guardgoyles dragged Victoria and Ingrid toward Tower 12, the Headmistress''s tower. Zeke frowned as they began ascending the long spiral staircase. Why were they going up? He''d always assumed captured students would be taken to some dungeon or holding cell. He and Elise followed quietly, watching as their friends struggled against the guardgoyles'' grip. Victoria and Ingrid''s movements seemed oddly sluggish, as if they were fighting against more than just physical restraint. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. "They''ve been hexed," Elise whispered, barely audible. "Sleep magic. Standard guardgoyle tactic." Up and up they climbed, passing floor after floor, until Zeke''s suspicion was confirmed. Ahead loomed the massive oak doors of Headmistress Florence''s office. As the guardgoyles reached it, they rapped out a pattern on the wood, three quick knocks, three slow, two fast. The doors swung open with a low rumble. Zeke and Elise darted inside just before the doors closed behind the guardgoyles and their captives. "Where do you want to put ''em?" one guardgoyle grumbled. Its voice was like stones grinding together. "Leave ''em here on the floor? Been ages since we actually caught someone." "No, you idiot." The second guardgoyle whacked the first on the head. "Here. These chairs. Put ''er there. Now get that rope." Zeke watched, fascinated despite the danger, as the guardgoyles placed Ingrid and Victoria in chairs opposite the Headmistress''s desk. Victoria made one last attempt to break free, but the guardgoyle pushed her back, and she slumped over, unconscious. Ingrid soon followed, both of them bound tightly to their chairs. "There we go," the first guardgoyle grunted with satisfaction. "That''ll hold ''em. A nice little present for the Headmistress when she gets up in the morning. Make sure you''re on a balcony close enough to listen, it''s pretty funny when she finds people like this." The two guardgoyles stomped back to the door and knocked out their code again. When the door swung open, they lumbered out, leaving Victoria and Ingrid unconscious and bound in the creepy office. Once the door closed, Elise dropped the invisibility spell. "Whew," she sighed. "That was close." She looked around, shivering slightly. "Wow. This place is even creepier at night than in the day." "Tell me about it," Zeke agreed, eyeing the preserved specimens and strange artifacts lining the walls. Jars containing body parts seemed to glow faintly in the moonlight streaming through the high windows. He hurried over to his friends and tried shaking them awake. "Come on, come on. We need to get out of here before someone catches us." Elise examined them, then shook her head. "They can''t hear you. They''ve been hit with a sleep enchantment, and a powerful one. Unless we find someone who can remove it, they''ll be out for at least eight hours." "Great," Zeke said, his mind already racing with possible solutions. "So what do we do?" "Well, we can''t leave them here," Elise drew a small knife from her boot. "I''ll cut the ropes, you keep them from falling." "Wait." Zeke held up a hand. He examined the knots binding Victoria and smiled. "I can do this." The knots were far less complicated than the one from his third Trial. Working quickly, his fingers loosened Victoria''s bindings, then Ingrid''s. As the ropes fell away, Elise coiled them neatly and returned them to the shelf where the guardgoyles had found them. Their friends now slumped unconscious in their chairs, free but unable to walk. Zeke scratched his head, considering their options. "Alright," he said. "Now we just need to get them all the way from Tower 12 to Tower 2." "And I''m the only one capable of the invisibility magic," Elise added, looking worried. "That''s going to be a problem." "Can you carry one of them?" Zeke asked. "Maybe," Elise shrugged. "I''ve carried baby calves before, and although that sounds simple, they can get pretty hefty. I think I can manage one, but I''m not sure I can do that and maintain the magical field at the same time." Zeke thought for a moment, then reached into his robes. From an inner pocket, he pulled out one of the blue Aura Gems he and Ingrid had retrieved from the ancient mine. "Would this help?" he asked, holding it out to her. Elise took the gem, turning it over in her hands. Her eyes widened as she recognized it. "This is one of those gems you got from the dungeon with Ingrid?" "Yup," Zeke nodded. "I haven''t had much use for it yet." "Let''s see if this works then," Elise closed her fist around the gem. The crystal began to glow, floating upward from her palm. It spun in midair, pulsing with blue light, before settling into a steady, soft glow. Elise plucked it from the air and tucked it into her pocket. "Perfect," she said, looking more confident. "I can feel it boosting my magic already. Alright, let''s do this." ¡¸???????? ?????? ??????????????????¡¹ ¡¾Magic Enhancement: Active¡¿ ¡¾Duration: Until removed¡¿ ¡¾Effect: Significant boost to magical output¡¿ Working together, they hoisted their unconscious friends. Zeke helped Elise get Ingrid into a fireman''s carry across her shoulders, then did the same with Victoria. The weight was considerable, but thanks to all those training sessions with weighted robes, Zeke could handle it. "Ready?" he asked, adjusting Victoria''s position to distribute the weight more evenly. "As I''ll ever be," Elise replied, visibly straining but determined. She activated her invisibility spell, and they all vanished from sight. Zeke approached the door and knocked out the same pattern he''d seen the guardgoyles use. To his relief, the doors swung open, and they stepped out onto the landing. The descent down Tower 12''s spiral staircase was a grueling test of strength and balance. Each step sent jolts through Zeke''s knees, and Victoria''s weight threatened to topple him forward. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he carefully navigated the stairs, concentrating on each movement. "You doing okay?" he whispered to Elise, who he could hear breathing heavily nearby. "Just... peachy," she gasped. "Nothing like... carrying your friend... down hundreds of stairs... while invisible." Zeke grinned despite the strain. "Think of it as training for the Mountain Run." "You''re... insane," Elise replied, but he could hear the smile in her voice. When they finally reached the bottom, Zeke''s legs were trembling, but he felt a surge of satisfaction. One challenge down, several more to go. Moving through the hallways presented a new problem. With their unconscious friends, they were much wider than before and couldn''t fit through the same hiding spots. They split up, maintaining about twenty feet between them to navigate around the patrolling guardgoyles. The stone sentinels seemed more alert now, perhaps sensing something amiss. One stopped directly in their path, its head swiveling as if sniffing the air. Zeke froze, holding his breath as the creature''s glowing eyes swept across him. Just when he thought they were clear, Victoria''s foot slipped from his grip and knocked against the guardgoyle''s wing. The creature snarled, spinning around with surprising speed. "Who''s there?" it growled, stone claws extending. Zeke backed away slowly, careful not to make a sound. The guardgoyle took a step toward him, then another. Just as it was about to reach out, a crash echoed from down the hallway, Elise had knocked over a decorative vase as a distraction. The guardgoyle whirled and charged toward the sound, giving Zeke the chance to slip away. He''d have to thank Elise later for the quick thinking. After what felt like hours of stop-and-go movement, dodging guardgoyles and hiding in shadows, they finally reached Tower 2. But their greatest challenge still awaited: climbing up to the fourth floor where Victoria and Ingrid''s room was located. Zeke stared up at the seemingly endless staircase, took a deep breath, and began to climb. Each step was a battle, his legs burning and lungs straining for air. Victoria''s weight, which had been manageable on flat ground, now felt like a ton of bricks. "One step at a time," he whispered to himself. "Just like the mountain will be." He focused on placing one foot in front of the other, counting steps to distract from the pain. Behind him, he could hear Elise''s labored breathing as she struggled with her own burden. When they finally reached the fourth floor, Zeke''s legs were shaking, but triumph surged through him. They''d made it! Elise dropped her invisibility spell as they reached the door to the girls'' room. "Hold on," she panted, setting Ingrid down carefully. She fished through her friend''s pockets, searching for the room key. Behind them, the unmistakable sound of stone feet on stairs echoed from below. "Hurry," Zeke urged, glancing nervously at the stairwell. "Got it!" Elise whispered, producing a small iron key. She unlocked the door just as the heavy footsteps reached their floor. Zeke ducked inside with Victoria, then turned back to grab Ingrid. Elise scrambled in after them, slamming the door shut just as a guardgoyle rounded the corner. They held their breath, listening as the creature stomped past without stopping. The tension broke, and they collapsed against the door, dissolving into silent, exhausted laughter. Not because anything was funny, but from pure relief at having made it through their midnight adventure. "We did it," Elise gasped, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "I can''t believe we actually pulled that off." "Never a dull moment at Leoncrest," Zeke replied with a grin. Once they caught their breath, they arranged their unconscious friends more comfortably on their beds. Elise used a touch of magic to position them naturally, as if they''d simply fallen asleep after returning from their evening out. "Oh, before I forget," Elise said, reaching into her pocket. "Here''s your gem back." She held out the Aura Gem, which had dimmed to a dull blue. Zeke took it, noticing it felt cool to the touch rather than warm as before. "It didn''t get used up?" he asked, surprised. "It''s not a consumable," Elise explained. "It just amplifies your Aura while you''re using it. Pretty remarkable, actually." Zeke studied the gem for a moment, then handed it back to her. "Keep it." "What? Really?" Elise''s eyes widened. "I have more," Zeke shrugged. "Besides, you might need it again, especially if we keep getting into situations like this." "That''s... thank you," she said, clearly touched by the gesture. "I don''t know what to say." "Just call it payment for saving our friends," Zeke replied. He moved to the door, listening for any guardgoyles in the hallway. "Now I just need to make it back to Tower 1 in one piece." "You sure you''ll be alright?" Elise asked. "You could stay here if you want." "And have your roommate find a boy in her room tomorrow morning? I think I''ll pass," Zeke chuckled. "Besides, one person sneaking through the halls is a lot easier than two carrying unconscious friends." "True enough," Elise nodded. "Be safe. Don''t get eaten." "Not planning on it," Zeke grinned. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning Golden Touch [Active Quests:] [Guardgoyles (reprise): Get back to your room without being caught] 58. To The Mountain [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Estate - Entry Hall] [Date: May 25, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] Thankfully, if the Headmistress ever realized there had been students captured and placed in her office that night, she never gave any indication. None of the four were questioned, and there were no repercussions that Zeke could detect. Life at the Academy continued, with Zeke pushing himself harder each day as May 26th, the date of his Mountain Run, approached. But fate had other plans. On the morning of May 25th, Zeke woke to a sharp knock at his door. Sunlight streamed through the window as he rolled out of bed, muscles pleasantly sore from yesterday''s training. He padded across the floor and pulled the door open to find a young messenger standing at attention. "You are being summoned to the Entry Hall posthaste," the boy announced, his voice carrying the formal tone of official Academy business. "Bring anything you may need." Before Zeke could ask questions, the messenger dashed off down the hallway. Behind him, Ralph groaned and pulled his blanket over his head. "I''d forget it if I were you," his roommate mumbled. "Sounds like a trap." "Or it could be important," Zeke replied, already pulling on his boots. His mind raced through possibilities, had something happened to delay the Trial? Was there news from home? He quickly gathered his essentials, a small pack with water, dried meat, a spare knife, and the Aura Gems he''d recovered from the mine. Whatever this was about, he''d be ready. "See you later," he called to Ralph, who merely grunted in response. The morning air was crisp as Zeke jogged down the spiral staircase, taking the steps two at a time. When he burst into the Entry Hall, he found an unexpected gathering, Headmistress Florence stood near the massive doors, tapping her foot impatiently. Beside her was Adrian, along with Ingrid and several other Academy staff Zeke didn''t recognize. "I would have expected you to be a bit more on-time," the Headmistress scolded, her sharp eyes taking in his slightly disheveled appearance. "For what?" Zeke asked, genuinely confused. "The run isn''t until tomorrow." "On a mountain that is some distance from our current location," Headmistress Florence replied tersely. "Didn''t you read the note that was sent to you?" Zeke frowned, trying to recall any message about an early departure. Had Ralph accidentally taken it? Or had someone intercepted it before it reached him? The Headmistress sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Well, it would seem that communicating by letters is no longer a viable means here at the Academy. Let us proceed anyway. The carriages are waiting out front. Zeke, you''ll be in the lead carriage with myself and Adrian." Zeke nodded, catching Ingrid''s eye as she flashed him a thumbs-up and an encouraging smile. His heart beat faster, this was really happening, a day earlier than expected. "Ready for this?" Ingrid asked as they descended the grand staircase outside the Academy. "Born ready," Zeke replied with more confidence than he felt. The weeks of training with weighted robes, obstacle courses, and endless running had prepared his body, but was his mind ready? Three identical black carriages waited at the bottom of the stairs, each drawn by a team of four matching bay horses. Academy guards stood at attention beside them, hands resting on sword hilts. Zeke climbed into the first carriage as instructed, settling onto a plush bench. Adrian joined him while the Headmistress sat opposite, her back straight as a lance. The door closed with a solid thunk, and moments later, the carriage lurched forward. They rolled through the main gates in silence, the only sounds the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves and the creak of the carriage springs. Zeke watched through the window as Leoncrest receded into the distance, the magnificent towers growing smaller against the morning sky. Soon they turned onto a western road that wound toward the distant mountains. It was here that the Headmistress reached up and rapped three sharp knocks on the carriage ceiling. Their driver immediately slowed, allowing the other two carriages to pass before falling into position at the rear. "What was that for?" Zeke asked, breaking the tense silence. "Merely a precaution," Headmistress Florence replied, her voice matter-of-fact. "If my letter to you was intercepted, then it would make sense that the parties who have tried to kill you before remain interested in doing so. When we left, you were in the lead carriage. Now, if we are attacked, they will strike that carriage first, not this one." A chill ran down Zeke''s spine. "But then," "The lead carriage now contains knights who fought alongside your brother," the Headmistress explained, the ghost of a smile crossing her face. "They are more than capable of handling any bandits or renegades hired for the job." "Smart thinking," Zeke nodded, impressed by the strategy. "Thank you." "For what?" Headmistress Florence raised an eyebrow. "For simply trying to do my job? I have done nothing that I am not being paid to do." Zeke grinned, undeterred by her coolness. "Fair enough. How long will it take to reach Dragonpeak?" "It would take approximately eight hours, if that was indeed our destination," she replied. "However, as we are heading to Wyrmpeak instead, we face nearly fifteen hours of travel." "Wyrmpeak?" Zeke blinked in surprise. Adrian leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near-whisper despite the privacy of the carriage. "When you insisted on taking the Trial, the Headmistress and I decided to use the situation to our advantage. We prepared two routes, the official one on Dragonpeak, which was purposely leaked, and the actual one on Wyrmpeak, which has remained secret." "The map you were supposed to receive," the Headmistress continued, "contained the false route. As expected, within hours of creating it, the information had spread throughout the Academy. If our enemies prepared traps, they''ve placed them on the wrong mountain." Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Zeke''s eyes widened as he understood the clever deception. "And you''re sure this second route is safe?" "As sure as I can be," she shrugged slightly. "We created the fake map knowing it would leak, though we did not do the leaking ourselves. I gave it to my secretary, and within hours, everyone knew. I am certain she was not responsible, though I have yet to identify the actual culprit." Her eyes narrowed as she continued. "I am as certain as possible that the Wyrmpeak route is secure, but..." she paused meaningfully, "do not forget what Ingrid has been training you for." Zeke nodded, his mind racing. All those obstacle courses, trap-detection exercises, and surprise attacks had been preparing him for exactly this situation. Whatever waited on the mountain, he''d be ready. The journey stretched on, hours blending together as they rolled through the countryside. Zeke alternated between watching the landscape, chatting with Adrian about Academy history, and dozing against the carriage wall. Occasionally they stopped to rest the horses and stretch their legs, but these breaks were brief and heavily guarded. Around midday, they passed a hidden contingent of three more identical carriages waiting among the trees. When they reached the turn-off for Dragonpeak, these decoy carriages started up the path, maintaining their illusion perfectly. "They''ll follow that route as if you were among them," Adrian explained. "Complete with guards, stops at the appropriate viewpoints, everything. Anyone watching would be convinced you''re heading to Dragonpeak." "Unless they''ve infiltrated our actual party," the Headmistress added coolly, "which I''ve taken precautions against as well." As the afternoon wore on, their path took them through steep valleys and over forested foothills. They followed crystal-clear rivers, passed beneath natural stone arches, and wound through narrow passes where the mountains seemed to close in around them. ¡¸?????????????? ???? ????????????????¡¹ ¡¾Progress: 70% Complete¡¿ ¡¾Terrain: Mountain Foothills¡¿ ¡¾Elevation: Increasing Rapidly¡¿ ¡¾Estimated Arrival: Sunset¡¿ Finally, they began the ascent of Wyrmpeak itself. The road narrowed and steepened, switchbacking up the mountainside. One edge fell away into space, sometimes dropping dozens of feet, sometimes hundreds. Zeke''s ears popped painfully as they climbed higher, the air growing noticeably thinner and cooler with each turn. They passed beyond the treeline into a realm of rock and sky. Here, the landscape changed dramatically, lush forests gave way to barren slopes of slate-gray stone, broken only by occasional patches of hardy wildflowers and stubborn alpine shrubs. Snow dusted the highest reaches, gleaming in the late afternoon sun. Ahead, perched on a wide ledge, Zeke spotted a stone building that seemed to grow directly from the mountainside. "The Wyrmpeak Outpost," Adrian said, following his gaze. "Built into the mouth of a natural cave system. It will be our base of operations." By the time they arrived, Zeke''s legs were cramped from sitting so long. When the carriage finally stopped, he eagerly jumped out, landing on solid stone with a satisfying thud. Crisp mountain air filled his lungs, sharp, clean, and so cold it made his chest ache. The sun hovered near the horizon, bathing everything in golden light. Zeke walked to the edge of the ledge and gazed out at the world below. From this height, the landscape stretched endlessly in all directions, forests and meadows, rivers cutting silver ribbons through valleys, distant towns appearing as mere specks. Leoncrest Academy itself was barely visible, a pale smudge beside what must be the red desert. Adrian joined him at the overlook, breathing deeply of the mountain air. "It''s beautiful, isn''t it?" he asked quietly. "I''ve never seen anything like it," Zeke replied, awestruck by the vastness. "You can see forever from up here." "There''s a reason so many churches and temples are built in these places," Adrian mused. "The view alone is enough to make one believe in something greater." After a moment, he shrugged. "But that''s likely a lecture you''re not interested in hearing. Come on, let''s get inside before nightfall. The temperature drops dangerously once the sun sets." The stone building was deceptive, what appeared modest from outside revealed itself as the entrance to an extensive complex carved into the mountain itself. They stepped through heavy wooden doors into a spacious hall warmed by a massive hearth. Corridors branched off in multiple directions, leading deeper into the mountain. "This is amazing," Ingrid said, appearing at Zeke''s side as they entered. "What is this place?" "It was originally an outpost for the Academy''s advanced training," Headmistress Florence explained, removing her travel cloak. "The harsh environment was considered conducive to certain specialized disciplines. It was largely abandoned about two hundred years ago due to the inconvenience of travel, then reopened as an occasional outpost roughly a century later." She gestured down one of the corridors. "Sleeping quarters are that way. Meals will be served in an hour." "We aren''t starting the run now?" Zeke asked, eager despite his fatigue. The Headmistress gave him a look that might have been amusement on anyone else. "After a fifteen-hour ride, your legs are in no condition for it. Besides, the mountain air at night is deadly cold. Even the greatest warriors would struggle to survive exposed on these slopes after dark." She stepped closer, her voice taking on the tone of a lecturer. "If you are ever trapped on a mountain as night falls, descend as far as possible, find shelter, and light a fire. Remaining on the barren slopes is a certain path to death, your frozen body would become a curiosity for climbers centuries hence. You will begin at dawn." With that settled, Ingrid pulled Zeke aside to run him through a series of stretches and exercises designed to loosen his muscles after the long journey. By the time they finished, servants had brought out a simple but hearty meal, fresh bread, aged cheese, dried meat, and hot tea. The group ate in relative silence, everyone focused on their own thoughts. Zeke found himself studying the others, wondering which of them might be secretly aligned with the cult. The Headmistress had said she''d taken precautions, but after everything that had happened, he couldn''t help being suspicious. After dinner, they retired to their assigned quarters, simple rooms carved directly into the rock, furnished with wool-stuffed mattresses and thick blankets. Despite the hearth in the main hall, the air here was cool and damp. Zeke sat on his bed, running through mental preparations for tomorrow''s challenge. According to the Headmistress, the route was thirteen miles long, with one hundred flags to collect along the way. He needed to complete it before sunset, roughly twelve hours. "You''ve got this," he told himself, lying back on the hard mattress. "Just like Ingrid''s training courses, but bigger." Sleep came in fits and starts, his mind too active to fully rest. When he did drift off, he dreamed of endless mountain slopes and dark shapes moving against the snow. He woke before dawn, alert and ready despite his restless night. After a light breakfast of porridge and dried fruit, Ingrid helped him through a series of warm-up exercises, her face serious. "Remember everything we practiced," she said as she handed him a small satchel she''d prepared. "This has emergency rations and a canteen. A bit of food can mean the difference between freezing and surviving if things go wrong." "Thanks," Zeke said, shouldering the pack. "For everything, the training, the advice. Couldn''t have gotten this far without you." "Just come back in one piece," she replied with a half-smile. "I''ve invested too much time in you to start over with someone else." Outside, the eastern sky was just beginning to lighten, the stars fading one by one. His breath formed clouds in the frigid air as he approached the starting point where Adrian and the Headmistress waited with several guards. "Good morning!" Zeke called, his voice bright with forced cheerfulness to cover his nerves. "It''s morning," Adrian replied grimly. "I''m not certain I would call it good." "What happened?" Zeke asked, noting the tense atmosphere. "We received a message at dawn," Headmistress Florence said, her voice low. "From the camp on Dragonpeak. They were attacked overnight by werewolves. Several guards were killed, and the outpost was burned." Zeke''s eyes widened. "Werewolves?" He turned to look at Dragonpeak in the distance, where a thin column of smoke rose against the pale sky. "The cult must have hired them," Adrian added. "When they realized you weren''t there..." "They may know we''re here instead," the Headmistress finished. "They''ve had most of the night to make their way to this location. You may find nothing on your run today, or you may find enemies waiting. I honestly cannot say." Instead of fear, Zeke felt a surge of determination. After all the training, all the preparation, this was his moment. Werewolves or cultists, traps or sabotage, he was ready for whatever came. "Then let''s not keep them waiting," he said, squaring his shoulders. While Ingrid led him through final stretches, guards brought out his equipment. The Headmistress approached carrying what looked like a shirt made of heavy chain, with additional lengths dangling down the back. "Welcome to the Mountain Run," she said formally. "The course, per regulation, is exactly thirteen miles long. You must return to this point by sundown with every single flag along the way." Her expression softened slightly. "With, of course, exceptions allowed in the case of werewolf attacks, sabotage, and similar extraordinary circumstances. There are one hundred flags to collect." "Got it," Zeke nodded, memorizing the requirements. "One hundred flags, about twelve hours, thirteen miles." "More than that, I cannot say," she replied, then raised her hand. "You may begin in three... two..." "One," Zeke finished for her, taking off up the mountainside. [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning, Golden Touch [Active Quests:] [Mountain Run: Complete the run in the allotted amount of time] 59. The Path Forward
[Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Estate - Wyrmpeak] [Date: May 27, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] As Zeke charged up the slope, the first real challenge of the Mountain Run hit him quick. The air was thin, thin enough that it might as well not have existed. He''d trained in the desert for weeks, but nothing had prepared him for this. "Just gotta push through," he muttered, forcing his legs to keep moving. The metal chains weighing him down clanked with each step, their cold links digging into his shoulders and pulling him backward. The dangling lengths slapped against his legs and wrapped around his ankles, threatening to trip him with each stride. Every few steps he had to kick them free before continuing. "They really don''t want this to be easy," he thought with a grim smile, finding a strange satisfaction in the challenge. ¡¸???????????????? ?????? ????????????????¡¹ ¡¾Flags Collected: 0/100¡¿ ¡¾Distance Covered: 0.3 miles¡¿ ¡¾Elevation: Increasing¡¿ ¡¾Time Remaining: 11 hours, 47 minutes¡¿ He spotted the first flag about fifty yards ahead, its bright red fabric fluttering against the gray stone. With renewed determination, he scrambled forward and snatched it from its small pole, stuffing it into his pocket. "One down, ninety-nine to go," he said, scanning the mountainside for the next target. He spotted another flash of red higher up the slope. Of course they''d make him climb straight up first, weeding out the quitters early. The incline was brutally steep, forcing him to use both hands and feet as he scrambled upward. For almost a mile he climbed straight up, collecting two more flags along the way. His muscles burned with the effort, but he pushed the pain aside. This was nothing compared to what his brother had endured fighting Socrax. When he reached the third flag, Zeke paused for a quick breather, glancing back down the slope. The outpost looked tiny from this height, the people below mere specks against the stone. The wind picked up, slicing through his clothes with icy precision, but he welcomed the challenge. Scanning the mountainside, he spotted the next flag off to the north, roughly at the same elevation. He nodded and started forward, carefully placing each foot as he traversed the sloped ground. "Just like walking on a roof," he told himself, remembering the times he''d snuck out of the Godfrey estate by climbing across the tiles. Here, the second challenge presented itself, not sliding to his death. One wrong step would send him tumbling all the way back down, losing precious time and energy. When the chains wrapped around his legs, he shook them free with practiced motions, developing a rhythm that kept him moving forward. The slate beneath his feet was solid at least, providing decent traction. As he approached the next flag, he noticed the slope beginning to angle downward, curving out of sight from the outpost. Once he passed this point, he''d be on his own. No one would see if he got into trouble. "That''s how adventures work," he grinned, pushing forward. He started down the slope toward the next flag, which stood precariously at the edge of what appeared to be a cliff. His feet skidded slightly on the loose stones, but he managed to stay upright, using the downward momentum to his advantage. When he reached the flag, he peered over the cliff edge. The drop was at least a hundred feet straight down to jagged rocks below. The next flag was also perched along the cliff edge, further along the mountain face. "Never a dull moment," he murmured, pocketing the current flag and setting off toward the next. The terrain grew rougher, with loose rocks that shifted underfoot and occasional patches of ice that gleamed dangerously in the morning sun. His focus narrowed to each step, each breath, each flag. One after another, he collected them, working his way around the mountain. After the cliff section, the path led into a narrow mountain pass squeezed between two sharp rock walls about fifteen feet high. The ground was slick with ice, forcing Zeke to slow his pace. He used his hands to pull himself forward, finding handholds in the rock face while his feet struggled for purchase on the slippery surface. "This is where the real test begins," he thought, feeling the atmosphere grow thinner as he climbed higher. ¡¸???????????????? ?????? ????????????????¡¹ ¡¾Flags Collected: 17/100¡¿ ¡¾Distance Covered: 3.4 miles¡¿ ¡¾Elevation: High Peak Zone¡¿ ¡¾Time Remaining: 9 hours, 12 minutes¡¿ The hours ticked by as Zeke wound his way up and down the mountain, navigating boulder fields and ice patches, collecting flags as he went. His muscles burned and his lungs ached, but he refused to slow down. The only concessions he made to his body''s needs were a brief water break and later a quick meal, crouched in the shadow of a boulder while the wind howled around him. The food and water revitalized him, and he set off again with renewed energy. The path wound ever upward now, bringing him closer to the summit with each flag. As he climbed higher, the views became increasingly spectacular, forests spread out below like dark green carpets, rivers cutting silver paths through valleys, and distant towns appearing as mere clusters of tiny dots. Finally, with one last push, Zeke reached the very peak of Wyrmpeak. A single flag stood at the highest point, planted in a small patch of snow. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. He grabbed it and stuffed it into his already-bulging pocket, then turned in a slow circle, taking in the panoramic view. From this vantage point, he could see in all directions, the vast expanse of the kingdom stretching to the horizon. Even Dragonpeak, taller and more imposing, seemed closer from here. For a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the achievement, the wind whipping his hair as he stood atop the world. "Not bad for the second son," he murmured with satisfaction. Scanning below, he spotted the next flag nestled among a small cluster of boulders. He remembered passing those boulders earlier but had gone around the back side, missing the flag entirely. As he started down toward them, something caught his eye, a brief flash of color behind the rocks. Zeke froze, hand instinctively moving to his sword hilt. That wasn''t natural. Someone, or something, was down there. "Well, they did warn me," he muttered, continuing down the slope more cautiously, ready for trouble. When he reached the boulders, the flag fluttered innocently in the breeze, but something felt wrong. Trusting his instincts, Zeke examined the area more carefully and spotted a thin tripwire running from the base of the flagpole through the rocks. "Nice try," he whispered, extending his sword to poke the flag from a safe distance. SNAP! A small dart shot through the air exactly where he would have been standing if he''d reached for the flag normally. The projectile clattered against the rocks and disappeared among the stones. Zeke carefully collected the flag, then looked around for the next one. "Someone''s definitely out here," he thought, moving forward with heightened awareness. "And they''re not just watching anymore." As he jogged toward the next flag, he heard something behind him, heavy footsteps crunching on gravel, labored breathing, and a low growl that wasn''t human. Zeke waited until the last possible moment, then dropped flat to the ground. Something large sailed over him, landing with a heavy thud on the rocky ground ahead. He scrambled to his feet, sword already drawn, as the creature turned to face him. A werewolf, massive and menacing, stood between Zeke and the next flag. Its fur was a mottled gray and brown, eyes glowing with an unnatural amber light. Saliva dripped from impressive fangs as it regarded him with predatory intelligence. "What have we here?" the creature rumbled, its voice deep and guttural. "A little human, ripe for the eating?" "I think you''ll find me a little tough to chew," Zeke replied, raising his sword slightly. "Leave now, and I''ll let you walk away alive." The werewolf let out a roaring laugh that echoed across the mountain. "You have a sense of humor! It will make my victory all the sweeter!" With surprising speed, the beast lunged forward, claws extended. Zeke activated [Heart of the Warrior], feeling the familiar surge of power course through his veins. He swung his sword with all his might as they collided. Metal bit into flesh as both of them went crashing to the ground. Zeke slid several feet down the slope, scrabbling for purchase on the loose stone. The werewolf dug its claws into the gravel, steadying itself as blood dripped from a deep gash in its right arm. "First blood to you, little knight," it snarled, eyes narrowing. "There won''t be a second." The creature pounded its chest with its uninjured arm and launched itself down the slope. Zeke braced himself for impact, but the force still sent them both tumbling down the mountainside. They slammed into a boulder cluster, the impact knocking the wind from Zeke''s lungs. He struggled to his feet, sword still clutched in his hand. The werewolf rose as well, circling him with predatory patience. "Don''t try me," Zeke growled, his Emblem still pulsing with power. The werewolf hesitated for just a moment, exactly what Zeke was waiting for. He lunged forward, blade flashing in the sunlight. The sword sliced deep across the creature''s abdomen, drawing a howl of pain and rage. The beast retaliated immediately, one massive paw connecting with Zeke''s chest, sending him staggering backward. Before he could recover, claws raked across his face, leaving burning trails of pain. Gritting his teeth, Zeke drove his sword forward, piercing the werewolf''s left shoulder. Using the momentum, he spun behind the creature, attempting to slash across its back, but the werewolf leapt away with surprising agility despite its wounds. They faced each other, both breathing heavily. Zeke noticed they had slid dangerously close to the cliff edge, a hundred-foot drop to certain death just a few yards away. The werewolf seemed to realize this too, a cruel smile spreading across its muzzle. "The scent of fear is almost as tasty as the flesh of my victims," it taunted, licking blood from its jaws. "Save it," Zeke replied, feeling [Heart of the Warrior] beginning to fade. "I''m not listening." The werewolf lunged again, and Zeke, in desperation, activated [Golden Touch]. The collision was brutal, claw against steel, fang against determination. Even without his strength Emblem, Zeke stood his ground, his blade drawing blood again and again. The mountain air filled with the metallic scent of blood, both his and the wolf''s. In a frenzied moment, the beast''s claws dug deep into Zeke''s left arm. The werewolf''s eyes gleamed with victory as it tried to rip free... But something unexpected happened. Its claws became tangled in the chains wrapped around Zeke''s arm. "Guess these things are good for something after all," Zeke grunted, seizing the opportunity. As the werewolf struggled to free itself, nearly pulling Zeke off his feet, he planted his boots firmly on the stone and drove his sword directly into the creature''s chest. The beast howled, a sound of pain and shocked disbelief. It tried to swat Zeke away with its free arm, but the attack was weakening. Blood poured from its wounds, staining the gray stone beneath them. With a final, rattling breath, the werewolf collapsed, its massive form suddenly still. Zeke stood panting over his fallen enemy, the victory bringing no joy, just relief and a pressing need to continue. He tried to pull the wolf''s claws from his arm, but they were deeply embedded in both flesh and chain. "No time for this," he muttered after several failed attempts. Making a quick decision, he used his sword to sever the wolf''s paw at the wrist, leaving the grisly appendage dangling from his arm. It effectively immobilized his left arm, but at least he could move again. ¡¸???????????? ??????????????¡¹ ¡¾Enemy Defeated: Mountain Werewolf¡¿ ¡¾Injury Sustained: Severe - Left Arm¡¿ ¡¾Status Effect: Movement Restricted¡¿ ¡¾Flags Collected: a-few-too-many-to-actually-count-right-now/100¡¿ "One problem solved," Zeke grimaced, looking up at the distance he''d slid down. "Now I just need to climb back up." The ascent was grueling, his injuries making every movement a struggle. Blood soaked his left side, but he pushed onward, collecting flags as he encountered them. About an hour later, he heard distant howls echoing across the mountain, the werewolf''s pack had discovered their fallen member. "Better pick up the pace," he told himself, forcing his legs to move faster despite the exhaustion seeping into his bones. The sun began its descent toward the horizon as Zeke worked his way around the mountain. Finally, mercifully, he caught sight of the outpost far below. The finish line waited, the last flag fluttering nearby. His pace quickened as he made his way down the final stretch, letting gravity assist his tired legs. The chains continued to rattle and twist, but he''d developed a rhythm to his movements that minimized their interference. With the sun hovering just above the horizon, Zeke crossed the finish line. He snatched the final flag and tossed it at the Headmistress''s feet, his breathing ragged but controlled. "There you go," he nodded, fishing through his pockets to retrieve the others. "That should be all of them." No one spoke. Adrian stared at him with a mixture of shock and fascination. The Headmistress looked uncharacteristically shaken. Ingrid''s mouth hung open in disbelief. The guards all wore expressions of horror, eyes fixed on something beyond Zeke''s face. "What?" he asked, genuinely confused by their reactions. "You have a wolf paw stuck in your shoulder," Ingrid said slowly, pointing at his left arm. Zeke glanced over, surprised by the sight. His entire left side was coated in blood, the severed paw protruding grotesquely from a tangle of chains and torn fabric. "So I do," he said with a casual nod. "If anyone feels like helping me pull it out, I sure wouldn''t complain." Adrian beckoned him toward the bunker, and everyone followed. The guards kept glancing nervously between the mountain and Zeke, clearly unsure which was more frightening at the moment. Once inside, the warmth of the hearth felt almost overwhelming after hours in the biting cold. Zeke sank into a chair while attendants rushed forward with medical supplies, working carefully to extract the werewolf claws from his arm. "Are you okay?" Ingrid asked, taking the seat beside him. "As okay as I can be," he shrugged, immediately regretting the movement as pain lanced through his shoulder. "What happened?" the Headmistress demanded, her voice sharper than usual. Zeke recounted his experience as the attendants worked, the trap at the flag, the werewolf ambush, the deadly struggle at the cliff''s edge. When he finished, Headmistress Florence nodded slowly, turning away with what might have been respect in her eyes. "You''re collecting quite the list of stories," Ingrid said, shaking her head in amazement. "You''ll be famous just for taking the trials, let alone whatever comes after!" Zeke laughed despite the pain, but as the adrenaline faded, he became acutely aware of just how battered his body was. The room began to sway oddly, sounds becoming distorted. "Zeke?" Adrian''s voice seemed to come from very far away. "Zeke, are you okay?" "Yeah," Zeke murmured, fighting to stay conscious. "Yeah, I''m... I''m fine." [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior, Endurance, Cunning, Golden Touch [Active Quests:] [R&R: Recover from your Trial] 60. Reputation [Scene Loading...] [Location: Leoncrest Castle - Infirmary] [Date: June 1, y. 486 of the Fourth Age] Zeke drifted between consciousness and darkness for days after the Mountain Run. Brief flashes of awareness came and went, being carried on a stretcher, the rocking motion of a carriage, hushed voices discussing his condition. Finally, he woke up for good in the castle infirmary to find Elise sitting at his bedside and sunlight streaming through the window. "Am I alive?" he murmured, blinking against the brightness. "Much to the dismay of your enemies, yes," Elise confirmed with a relieved smile. "Great." Zeke tried sitting up, only to discover every part of his body protested the movement. He grinned and settled back down. "Just making sure I hadn''t become a ghost. That would''ve complicated things." "Nope, still solid." Elise rose and waved her hand. A small ball of light appeared in the air, then zipped out of the room and down the corridor. "Adrian asked me to alert him when you woke up. You''ve been through quite an adventure." "How long was I out?" Zeke glanced at the calendar on the wall. "June 1st... so four days? Five days? How many days are in May again?" "Thirty-one, I think. You''ve been unconscious about five days." Elise bent down and gave him a gentle hug. "I''m just glad you made it back." "Me too." He shifted slightly, then a thought struck him. "Please tell me they didn''t throw away the werewolf hand. I earned that trophy fair and square." Elise turned and gestured toward a table across the room. There, mounted on a polished wooden board, was the severed werewolf paw, its claws extended as if still trying to grab him. "A gift from the Headmistress, believe it or not," Elise explained. "House Dracthen is apparently quite skilled at preserving body parts." "I''ll keep that in mind next time I need to make a mummy," Zeke laughed. "That whole trial was something else. Make sure Ingrid knows how grateful I am for her training. No way I could''ve made it without her obstacle courses." "I will." Elise looked up as Adrian stepped into the room, concern etched on his face. "Don''t worry, he''s actually awake now. I''ll leave you two to talk." As Elise slipped out, Adrian took the chair beside Zeke''s bed. The old librarian studied him with an expression somewhere between relief and amazement. "Well... you''ve made Academy history again," Adrian said with a slight shake of his head. "The guards have been spreading your story everywhere. Some are saying you dragged the entire wolf back with you when you finished. It took real courage to continue the trial rather than returning immediately after the attack." Zeke shrugged. "I had a job to do." "And it''s becoming increasingly evident that you have no intention of letting anything stand in your way." Adrian paused, his expression growing somber. "I''m so sorry we couldn''t prevent the attack. I tried to sense any danger on the mountainside, but had no clue the werewolf was there until we heard the roars. By then it was far too late." "Hey, I knew the risks when I left," Zeke said firmly. "Not your fault at all. And honestly, if we''d stuck with the original plan and gone to Dragonpeak, I probably would''ve been werewolf dinner. Overall, things worked out pretty well." Adrian smiled slightly. "Fair enough. I''m glad to see you''re alright. If there''s anything you need, just say the word." Zeke nodded appreciatively, but as Adrian started to rise, a notification appeared in his field of vision: [Notice: You have a new Emblem that you have not examined. Would you like to do so now?] "Hang on," Zeke said. "Adrian, did anyone give me a new Emblem while I was out?" "Not to my knowledge," Adrian replied, frowning. "What is it?" Zeke mentally opened the notification: ¡¸?????? ???????????? ????????????????¡¹ ¡¾Wolf Claw¡¿ ¡¾Effect: +300% Strength¡¿ ¡¾Trigger: Active Use¡¿ ¡¾Duration: 30 seconds¡¿ ¡¾Cooldown: 4 hours¡¿ "I''ve got a new Emblem called Wolf Claw," Zeke explained. "Gives me triple strength when activated." "Fascinating." Adrian stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Some powerful magical creatures can bestow Emblems upon their death. It seems the werewolf was one of them. You should be able to use it freely without adverse effects." His eyes twinkled. "Congratulations! Your first monster-earned Emblem." "At least I got something besides scars out of the encounter," Zeke said with a grin. "You got far more than that," Adrian replied. "Your reputation has grown considerably. I must get back to my duties, but know this, you''re truly rebuilding the Godfrey legacy with each trial you complete." After Adrian left, Zeke dozed intermittently, his body demanding rest to heal. He dreamed of running across mountain slopes with the speed and strength of a wolf, chasing enemies who scattered like leaves before him. Several hours later, the door swung open without warning, and Headmistress Florence swept in, her face bearing an expression that might almost be called impressed. "Headmistress," Zeke attempted to sit up straighter, wincing at the pain. "Don''t strain yourself," she said with a dismissive wave. "I don''t intend to stay long. I merely wanted to congratulate you on completing the fourth Trial. Your performance was... exceptional." "Thanks," Zeke said. "I''m just glad I made it back in one piece. Well, plus one wolf paw." The corner of the Headmistress''s mouth twitched slightly. "As am I. It would have been quite inconvenient to recover your remains from the mountainside." She clasped her hands behind her back. "For what it''s worth, we located the rest of the werewolf that attacked you. It had been mutilated by its pack, a common practice among such beasts, but we used magic to revert it to human form." She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Based on the emblems he was wearing, he was likely from House Minziar, though that could have been intentional misdirection. Regardless, taking down a transformed werewolf is a feat few can claim." This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. "I didn''t think werewolves were that uncommon," Zeke said, surprised. "In modern times, werewolves rarely attack unless they''re certain they can escape unharmed," Headmistress Florence explained. "We''ve sent the remains to the Minziar family, though we don''t expect a formal response. In any case, I trust you''re enjoying your little trophy?" She glanced at the mounted paw, and Zeke grinned. "It''s perfect. Thanks for that. Though I''m not sure where I''ll hang it in the dorm room. Ralph might object to having it stare at him while he sleeps." "Now, to the matter of your next Trial," she continued briskly. "The Fifth Trial is arena combat. Unlike your previous weapons assessment, this will require you to defeat increasingly powerful opponents in actual combat. Given your recent victory over a werewolf, I imagine you''ll find it quite manageable." She smoothed her robes. "I''ve scheduled it for August 25th, shortly after the Fall quarter begins. Does that arrangement suit you?" Zeke nodded, secretly wishing it could be sooner. The momentum of completing trials felt good. "That works fine. Gives me time to heal up and train." "Good. Then I bid you farewell." She turned to leave, then paused at the door. "And... well done, de''Godfrey." With that final acknowledgment, she was gone. Zeke let out a long breath, settling back against his pillows. Four trials down, thirty to go. And now he had a date on the calendar for the next one. First, though, he needed to get out of this infirmary and back to training. It took two more days before the nurses agreed to release him. His legs worked just fine, and his right arm had escaped injury, but his left shoulder had started oozing pus and given him a fever. Overnight, the infection subsided, the wound began to heal properly, and they finally gave him clearance to leave. "You''re good to go," a nurse said, helping him out of bed. Zeke winced as the movement pulled at his healing wound. "Just return immediately if it worsens or, and this is very important, if you begin noticing unusual hair growth. It''s a rare but not insignificant side effect of werewolf claw wounds." Zeke laughed, taking it as a joke until he noticed her serious expression. "Wait, you mean I might actually turn into a werewolf? That would make the next trial a lot easier." The nurse didn''t seem to appreciate his humor. "This is serious, young man. The treatment for lycanthropy is extremely unpleasant." "Right, sorry," Zeke said, nodding solemnly. "I''ll keep an eye out for sudden cravings for rare steak and howling at the moon." The nurse sighed and shook her head as Elise arrived to help gather his belongings, her face bright with excitement. "You ready?" she asked. "More than ready," he replied, eagerly heading for the door. "Can''t wait to sleep in my own bed again and get back to training." "No..." She shook her head. "I mean... are you ready to face the crowd?" "What crowd?" Zeke frowned. His question was answered the moment they stepped into the corridor. Students lined the walls, conversations stopping as he passed. Some tried to be subtle about their staring, while others openly gaped. Whispers followed in their wake, growing louder as they moved further from the infirmary. "...fought a werewolf with his bare hands..." "...dragged it all the way back as proof..." "...becoming a legend already..." As they approached Tower 1, the crowd grew thicker. A student wearing House Byron''s colors pushed through, stepping in front of Zeke with an awestruck expression. "I''m sorry, but I just... I have to shake your hand. Please?" Zeke nodded, extending his good hand. The moment their hands clasped, others surged forward, hands thrust in his direction. "Shake my hand too!" "Tell us what happened!" "Did you really drag the whole wolf back with you?" "Are you turning into a werewolf now?" "Would you consider marriage proposals?" The questions came rapid-fire as the crowd pressed closer. Zeke tried to maintain his smile while moving steadily forward. "Sorry folks, one question at a time," he said, raising his voice to be heard. "No, I didn''t drag the whole wolf back, just the souvenir you see here." He gestured to the mounted paw Elise was carrying. "And no marriage proposals until I''ve finished all 34 Trials, house rules." This drew laughter from the crowd, but they still pressed in from all sides, eager to touch the student who had slain a werewolf. A few noticed his discomfort and began clearing a path, but progress remained slow. The stairwell proved just as packed, with more people emerging from their rooms to see what the commotion was about. Each step sent fresh pain through his healing shoulder as people jostled against him. "Alright, make way!" a commanding female voice called out. Ingrid appeared, pushing through the crowd. "Hero coming through, step aside or I start swinging!" The students reluctantly parted, allowing Zeke and Elise to follow in Ingrid''s wake. When they finally reached his room, Zeke slipped inside with a grateful nod to Ingrid. She gave him a quick salute before turning to disperse the crowd. "Hey! You''ve been gone forever," Ralph said, looking up from his desk. "Everything alright?" Zeke stared at his roommate''s casual greeting, then burst out laughing. "Oh, Ralph," he said, flopping onto his bed with a contented sigh. "That''s exactly why I like you." Elise set out his things from the infirmary, prominently placing the wolf claw trophy on his desk. Ralph whistled when he spotted it. "Now that''s a souvenir! Where''d you buy it? Any chance you can get me the seller''s information? My sister would absolutely lose her mind if she opened a package with something like that inside." "It came from House Minziar," Zeke replied, stretching his legs. "You''ll need to find another supplier, though. The guy who gave this to me isn''t exactly taking orders anymore." Ralph chuckled. "That''s funny! Almost like..." He glanced between Zeke and Elise, then back at the claw. The color drained from his face. "No. You''re kidding me." "Really wish I was," Zeke said, folding his arms behind his head. "Let''s just say the Mountain Run had a few unexpected challenges." "Wait, so that''s an actual..." Ralph pointed at the claw, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And you actually..." "Killed a werewolf?" Zeke nodded. "That''s why everybody''s going crazy out there. Apparently it''s not a common achievement." Ralph sank into his chair, staring at Zeke with new eyes. "My roommate''s a legend," he mumbled, then broke into a wide grin. "Do you know how many girls are going to want to meet ''the friend of the werewolf slayer''? This is the best thing that''s ever happened to me!" Elise rolled her eyes. "I''ll let you rest," she said to Zeke, moving toward the door. "Ralph, try not to exhaust him with your schemes." "Wait," Zeke called, holding up a finger. Elise paused as he sat up. "I need to start attending classes again now that I''m out." "Do you want me to come help you get ready tomorrow morning?" she asked, concerned. "That would be great, but it''s not what I meant," Zeke clarified. "Any chance you took notes in my Aura class? I''ve missed about two weeks of school, and Professor Gerald definitely won''t be offering private catch-up lessons." "I''ve got notes," Elise nodded. "Let me run back to my room and grab them. I might be able to find some History notes too, there''s a girl down the hall who''s in your class." "You''re a lifesaver," Zeke said gratefully. As Elise hurried off, Zeke closed his eyes, savoring the familiar comfort of his own bed. Being back in his room marked a significant step in his recovery. Now he just needed to get back on his feet, catch up on coursework, and prepare for the next trial. "So," Ralph said, leaning forward eagerly. "What was it like? Fighting a werewolf, I mean." "Terrifying," Zeke admitted. "But also... I don''t know, exhilarating in a way. When you''re face-to-face with something that powerful, everything else just fades away. It''s just you, your blade, and staying alive for one more second." Ralph nodded solemnly. "And now you''ve got this crazy new Emblem from it?" "Wolf Claw," Zeke confirmed. "Triple strength when activated. Should come in handy for the arena combat trial in August." "Speaking of which," Ralph said, "Ingrid''s been organizing training sessions for you. Said something about not letting you get soft while you recover. She''s pretty scary when she''s determined." Zeke laughed. "That''s Ingrid for you. Always planning five steps ahead." A knock at the door revealed Elise returning with several notebooks. "Here you go," she said, placing them on his desk. "Aura notes, History notes, and Politics notes just in case. I marked where your classes left off and where they picked up again." "Thanks, Elise. I owe you one." "You owe me several," she corrected with a smile. "But who''s counting? Get some rest, and I''ll see you tomorrow." After she left, Zeke grabbed one of the notebooks and started reading. Despite his exhaustion, he was determined not to fall behind. The next trial might be months away, but there was preparation to be done. As his eyes grew heavy, he found himself wondering what his enemies might try next. Attacking him with a werewolf had been bold, their next attempt would likely be even more dangerous. But for now, he''d earned a moment''s rest. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, and he''d face them head-on. ¡¸???????????? ????????????¡¹ ¡¾Health: Recovering¡¿ ¡¾Trials Completed: 4/34¡¿ ¡¾New Ability: Wolf Claw Emblem¡¿ ¡¾Next Trial: Arena Combat - 86 days remaining¡¿ [Scene Close] [Earned Emblems:] Heart of the Warrior Endurance Golden Touch Wolf Claw [Active Quests:] [R&R: Recover from your Trial (ongoing)]