Present Day

The paved streets of Inrora's upper city echoed with the sounds of bustling footsteps as they converged towards the opulent building carved into its peak. The walls, gleaming with white marble, and the vibrant purple and orange streamers dancing in the brisk spring breeze left no question that this was an enclave reserved solely for the privileged few. Bearing the royal houses colors was no small honor for any type of business, as it earned them the official seal of approval from the Merchant Guild, which was headed by the Third Ascended’s house, the Quatan. Despite the fact that only the colors of the First Ascended's family were present in the capital, it was believed that gaining the attention of one noble house meant gaining the attention of all six. Which made the weight of the envelope in Aidric’s right pocket, that allowed him through the gate in the first place, feel like a sack of stones.

The granite walls of the school showcased both opulence and durability as the towering thirty-foot walls on either side of the foyer, effortlessly blended back into the natural mountain it was hewn from. Only guards born into high-ranking families could stand watch and wear the meticulously crafted armor adorned with ropes and tassels, who dotted the tops of the wall and its lone gate. They were nothing more than shiny, glorified watchdogs.

Aidric was well aware that nobles had many things to hide, so why not hide them in a place only nobles could access? What was the harm? It had a certain humor, in a way. All you had to do to see the harm was turn around and gaze upon the lower city.

Aidric, however, simply pulled the tightly hemmed collar of his turtleneck to allow some of the cool spring morning air to brush against his skin, as he stood off to the side of the line of impatient white-haired brats. Running his hands through his fade-cut curly brown hair, he watched as the last of the nobles and high-born trickled through the gate, knowing he would have to join the back of the line. A deep, guttural snarl and chuff reverberated through the air that only Aidric could hear, and he sighed, rolling his eyes in anticipation.

“Ants. Making us wait to be last summoned to the peak. We should send a message to their so called ‘high-born’ houses and incinerate their spawn.”

‘Now, now, Sam.’ Aidric’s brain vibrated again with a displeased growl as more prospective students passed by in their already accepted and tailored robes, before he continued speaking in his head. ‘We have to play nice, remember? The point of us being here is to bide time… also, you said us and we! I told you I’d wear you down some day, didn’t I?’

“The only thing that will wear down is your will to fight me, and I will burn this world to the ground.” There was a pause for a moment as the drama queen grumbled yet again. “How many times must I tell you? My name is Salmvarik.”

‘About as many times as I’ve told you, I’m not saying that. It’s a mouthful. Besides, Sam is cute, don’t you think?’ The silent conversation was abruptly interrupted by the sound of clumsy heel clicks echoing off the stone paved foyer floor, as their owner made their way up to the line. With her hair tousled by the wind, a young woman carrying a load of books for the semester skidded to a stop in front of Aidric. She heaved a sigh, her bronze forehead glistening with a thin layer of perspiration, and gently pushed aside the strands of hair that divided her hair into two distinct colors of black and white. The guard behind them opened a scroll and marked off a name before signaling to their shiny compatriot. The gate closed with a heavy thud, and the guard took a moment to stretch out their muscles.

‘I guess we can get in line.’

“You’re weak.”

‘So says the all-powerful primordial dragon trapped in my chest.’ Aidric couldn’t help but smirk at the grumbles that vibrated in the back of his mind as he claimed a spot behind the woman. The mountain top was kissed by a cool wind, carrying the rich fragrances of lavender, lemon, rosemary, and cloves from the nobles in front of him. Unlike the manure and forests of his childhood in the nearby valley, this place was completely different. As Aidric tugged on the collar of his shirt, the sound of the fabric rubbing against his skin filled his ears, the movement catching the noblewoman's attention, and she turned her head towards him, to which Aidric quickly let go of his collar.

“I sincerely apologize, it was not my intention to cut in…” The woman’s refined, and pleasantly deeper voice died in her throat as her mesmerizing, brown eyes landed heavily upon the solid chestnut colored mass of curls that was Aidric’s hair, causing her to half-turn her body towards him.

“No, Ma’am, I was told to wait for all other applicants before joining the line.” Aidric said, gesturing behind them to the closed gate and laid-back guards. “I figured since it was closed, I could join. I meant no offense, and I humbly ask for your forgiveness if I’ve offended you in any way.” The woman blinked hard several times before clearing her throat.

“Oh, Gods no.” With a slight stoop, she lowered her voice, trying to keep their conversation semi-private. “I just wasn’t expecting to see someone like you here. Between you and me, I think if you have talent enough to be here, why does it matter?” She stood up straight and looked down at the boy in front of her, now standing an inch taller. Aidric plastered on the most convincing smile he could, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and bowed his head to the young woman.

“I’m honored to have met such…”

“Please, we can stop with the fancy talk, alright?” The young woman said. “We’re both eighteen. I’ve never understood why we have to use ‘courting’ verbiage with people outside of formal settings.” A posh voice rang out from the front of the thirty-person line.

“That is why you will never even dare to dream of claiming your mother’s dynasty, Cold-Blood.” Peering around the line, Aidric's gaze fell upon a figure with a head of full white hair, piercing purple eyes, and strangely familiar features. The figure sneered in their direction, but as soon as they caught sight of Aidric's hair color, their expression twisted into one of disgust.

“Yes, Zachery. That outburst is why I’m the rightful heir to my family’s fortune.” She said, making Aidric smirk. “And you will be stuck fighting for ninth place amongst your fifteen siblings.” She turned her attention back to Aidric. “Don’t pay attention to him. Moreno’s just like to run their mouths because they’re the First Ascended spawn.” The woman delicately brushed her fingertips behind her ears, tucking away strands of hair that cascaded in front of her collarbones. As the morning sun illuminated the foyer, the silver symbol on her lapel, now uncovered by her hair, sparkled, resembling an antique crown worn by feudal rulers of old. Aidric ducked back in line, knowing full-well what the Morenos were like.

“Most of them are blowhards.”

“You can say that again.” Aidric said. Before, his smile was forced, but now a genuine smirk played across his lips as he extended his hand towards her. “Aidric Bauer. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms.…?” With a roll of her eyes, the young woman shifted her books, tucking them securely under her left arm.

“Eriss Quatan. Please, just call me Eriss.” Eriss firmly clasped Aidric's hand, their contrasting skin tones making his hand appear even paler, devoid of any melanin from his father's tanned complexion. A pang of sadness ran through his veins. He missed his family. The grip on Aidric’s hand loosened, and he pulled away, his eyes drawn towards the gilded and shimmering pantheon above them, nestled in the clouds.

“Pleasure to meet you.” Aidric said.

“You’re not here to make friends, boy.” Sam said, driving Aidric’s gaze down to the perfectly laid stone street, and he chewed on his lip.

‘Quiet.’ Aidric took a deep breath and directed his gaze back towards the woman. Her eyes were filled with a mix of confusion and concern.

“Sorry, Eriss.” Aidric said.

“No need to apologize.” Silence permeated between them for a moment. Eriss was a bit curious as to how someone so young could have such a sad expression, one that was ill-fitting for his sharp features. What interested her the most about his looks, however, was the soft glow behind his emerald eyes, and the faint scar that ran from the lesft side of his hairline to the eyebrow below. “At the risk of pushing the envelope, are you alright? You look... upset.”

“I’d really rather not talk about it, if it’s all the same with you.” There was no time for Eriss to respond, as a man called out from the front of the line, out of Aidric’s view.

“Good morning, esteemed prospects! My name is Luis Plinem, and I will be your proctor for today’s exam.”

‘Wow, the Magus Supreme’s nephew conducts the entrance exams, huh?’ Aidric’s thought was met with a grumble.

“Irrelevant. An ant is an ant. It matters not which colony it crawled out from.” Sam said.

“Now, I’m sure you are all aware what purpose this test serves, but I must recite the regulations to you none the less.” Luis cleared his throat and continued. “The group you are beginning the exams with will not be the final class you are assigned, and vice versa. You will be sorted into one of six grades, the same number as the Ascended.” Aidric’s gaze drifted to the sky again, to the pantheon.

“Those with the highest magical aptitude and potential will go into class one. Those with similar attributes, but just falling short, will be placed in class two, and so on.” Aidric could feel any steam he had built up to be eager for today wane the more the man spoke. He wished for it back, however, once the hair on his neck stood on end, and Sam’s usual grumble transformed into a snarl. Sweat slicked Aidric’s palms as his pulse quickened in his chest.

‘Something’s wrong.’ Aidric’s thought was met with another snarl as Sam snagged control of Aidric’s neck for a moment, directing his gaze to the grand entrance of the school. Aidric’s trembling hands curled into fists.

“False God.” When did he get there?

“Since the caliber of this year’s prospective students is so high,” Luis said. “We have the honor of receiving the time and company of none other than the Second Ascended, Viggo Trauger!” Aidric and the high-born all simultaneously bowed at the waist, their eyes fixed on the street below.

‘This isn’t fucking happening.’

“Please, raise your heads.” The Ascended’s voice boomed, louder than the blood thundering in Aidric’s ears. All the prospects stood and gave their rapt attention to the mammoth of a man that towered above all others. His arms splayed out to the side, as he gave a shallow bow of his head. “You are all brought here on your own merits and blood, are you not?”

‘Not my blood.’ Aidric bit back at the God’s words behind his shaking eyes. ‘Mine wouldn’t even get me through the gate to the upper city.’

“To mark this occasion,” Viggo’s arms lowered, his hand coming to rest on the grip of his sword on his waist, a wolf’s head situated on the pommel. His house symbol. “You will be directing your skills at me directly, and those who impress me will make it into class one, no questions asked.”

Aidric’s hands flexed as he dragged his palm down his pants, hoping to wipe away some of the perspiration. ‘What do we do?’

“The same thing we planned to do.” Sam said. “Earn the highest accolades possible.”

‘Is he gonna recognize me?’

"Cease your worrying, and focus."