Orin Alpheratz (15 years old) Location: Solaris  Date: Year 873 / Pegasus Cycle (1) / Sage's Day (19)

The days that followed were anything but peaceful for Orin.

Ever since overhearing the unsettling conversation between Hector and Professor Huxley, his thoughts had been a whirlwind of confusion. What did they mean by saying the princess never existed? It made no sense.

He remembered her vividly: her voice, her smile, even the way she used to scold them when they got into trouble. That memory hadn't faded, not even after five years. And Hector was there. So was Huxley. They knew her too... didn’t they?

But despite the storm brewing in Orin's mind, Hector continued acting as if nothing had happened. Calm, composed, focused, most likely, on the upcoming Hero's Trial. If there was any hint of concern behind his usual stoicism, he didn't show it.

Eridus, noticing Orin's growing unease, had urged him more than once to just talk to Hector directly. “You'll never find answers if you keep running from them,” he had said. But Orin wasn't so sure. A part of him felt that even if he did confront Hector, he wouldn't get the truth. Another part was simply... afraid. Afraid of what that truth might be.

And so the days slipped by until the day of a special class came.

It was a clear morning when the entire knight class was summoned for a special session regarding the Hero's Trial and the legendary sword, Celestin. The room buzzed with murmurs of anticipation as students filed in, but as Orin entered with Sirius and the others, his attention was immediately drawn to someone standing beside Professor Aldulfin at the front of the class.

It wasn't a teacher.

He was a student, but no ordinary one. His uniform shimmered with gold-threaded embroidery, and the sword at his waist bore a jewel-encrusted hilt. His tall frame exuded strength and refinement, and his light brown hair, tied neatly in a ponytail, cascaded over his shoulder like a silken banner. Calm, icy-blue eyes scanned the room with quiet confidence.

He looks like he stepped out of a legend... Orin thought, awestruck.

Professor Aldulfin cleared his throat and addressed the class.

"Today," he began, "we'll be diving deeper into the nature of the Hero's Trial. And to help us understand it from the perspective of someone who has already overcome it, we have a special guest."

He gestured toward the student beside him.

"Allow me to introduce Leo Zosma, a third-year student and last year's champion of the Hero's Trial. He is also one of the few in this academy who has stood before Celestin."

A hush fell over the room as all eyes turned to Leo. Some filled with admiration, others with envy or reverence.

Professor Aldulfin raised his hand, calling for silence. The murmurs gradually faded until the classroom was still once more. Then, with practiced calm, he began to speak again.

“For you to grasp the true weight behind what it means to stand before a divine artifact like Celestin,” he said, his voice solemn, “you must understand the scale of what we're dealing with. These swords... they predate our empires, our histories, even our myths. They are relics of a world that existed long before the rise of the current age. Before the Empire, before Theria itself.”

The professor paused, letting his words settle.

“They are the legacy of a civilization so ancient, its name and shape were wiped from the world in what we now call the Great Cataclysm. A disaster that tore the world apart and nearly erased life as we know it. And yet... amid all that ruin, twenty swords remained. Or so legend claims.”

Gasps rippled through the classroom, but Aldulfin continued without faltering.

“It is believed that two of these swords were forged for each god, gifted as divine offerings to the mortal realm. But whether there are truly twenty, or more, or fewer... that remains uncertain. Not all have been found. Some may still lie buried beneath the earth, lost to time. Here in Solaris, only two are known to exist, and one of them is Celestin.”

Orin felt a chill run through his body.

So this wasn't just any enchanted blade... he thought. This was a fragment of a forgotten world, a divine artifact left behind by the gods themselves.

His eyes drifted again to Leo Zosma, standing calmly at the front of the room, arms folded behind his back. A student only a year older than him, and yet he had faced such a sword. That alone earned a kind of quiet reverence from Orin that he hadn't expected.

He wasn't sure why, but his hands tightened into fists beneath his desk.

Can I really stand on the same stage as someone like that?

Professor Aldulfin gave a final nod toward his guest. “Now, I'll step aside and leave the rest to Leo himself. He'll share his own experience... and perhaps offer a few insights into what awaits you in this year's Hero's Trial.”

The room fell into an even deeper silence than before. All eyes turned to Leo.

“My name is Leo Zosma,” the young man began, his voice calm and steady. “Third-year student of the knighthood class. And as the professor kindly mentioned... I was last year's champion of the Hero's Trial.”

Though his words were simple, there was something about the way he spoke, an effortless poise, a quiet authority, that silenced the room. It wasn't arrogance. It was presence. Like someone born to command.

“The Hero's Trial is an event designed to identify the knight most worthy of wielding Celestin,” he continued. “Over the next several days, all second-year students will be evaluated across a range of disciplines. From there, only three will be selected to undergo the official trial. Each year, the challenges are different. All except for the third and final one... a battle. A free-for-all between the three chosen contenders.”

Excited murmurs rippled through the class.

Orin blinked. Of course, he realized. Most of the students here probably witnessed that final battle last year...

Leo gave a knowing smile, as if he could hear their thoughts.

“I imagine some of you remember that fight,” he said with a shrug. “And yes, I happened to win it. But let me be clear: the one who triumphs in the final battle isn't always the one chosen to bear Celestin. That decision lies with a council, comprised of professors, seasoned knights, and occasionally, other prominent figures like the Emperor himself... or the Oracle.”

That last word struck Orin like lightning. The Oracle... Could Papin have once had a voice in that council? And even if he was no longer in power, did his influence still linger? If so, then maybe... maybe all of this is connected.

Leo, unaware of Orin's spiraling thoughts, went on.

“The Hero's Trial is often the moment when favorites prove their worth, or when dark horses upset expectations. But there are times...” Leo's gaze shifted, ever so briefly, to Hector, “...when the outcome is all but decided in advance. And in those cases, the trial is little more than a formality.”

The room went silent. Some students exchanged glances. All of them had caught the subtext.

“But don't let that stop you,” Leo added with a calm smile. “Whether you believe you have a chance or not. Give it your all. Compete with no regrets.”

His tone grew more serious.

“Now, I know many of you are wondering... what is it like to stand before a legendary sword like Celestin?”

He paused, as if searching for the right words.

“In a word... overwhelming,” he said finally. “Just touching it was enough to paralyze my arm. My energy drained away as if the sword itself was rejecting me. I couldn't even draw it. But still... I don't regret a thing. That moment changed me.”

Despite the humbling confession, he didn’t seem ashamed. If anything, he wore the experience like a badge of honor.

“And there's more,” he continued. “Even those who don't draw the sword receive a great reward. The three finalists are each granted instruction in Paladin Skills, advanced techniques far beyond the Knight Skills you're all practicing now. And the winner... gains guaranteed entry into the League of Knights of Solaris.”

There was a collective intake of breath. The League. The elite guard of the empire. For many, it was the pinnacle of honor.

“Of course,” Leo added, his smile returning, “what they don't tell you is that it also comes with more work and responsibilities than most of you can imagine. But if you survive the Hero's Trial... then mastering Paladin Skills will be the least of your challenges.”

After that, Leo's explanation continued, shifting to more personal anecdotes and stories from his own experience. He spoke about training regimens, the mental fortitude required for the trials, and how his own doubts nearly cost him everything. The once formal tone of the session gradually softened. At one point, he even opened the floor to questions, which quickly filled the air with laughter, curiosity, and excited chatter.

Several students eagerly asked about the legendary Paladin Skills he was learning, but Leo only smiled mysteriously and said, “That's a secret reserved for those chosen by the council.”

A few groaned at his evasiveness, others chuckled, and a few eyes sparkled with determination. Orin, for his part, watched intently, trying to memorize every detail of Leo's composure and speech.

Eventually, as the session neared its end, Leo's tone changed, his confident smile fading just slightly.

“There's one last thing I need to mention,” he said, voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “Normally, the three candidates for the Hero's Trial are chosen after several cycles... but this year, for some reason, the council has decided to announce the candidates at the end of this current cycle.”

The room immediately erupted into murmurs of disbelief.

“What? That’s way too early!”

“They’ve already picked them?”

“Do we even still have a chance?”

The surprised voices layered over one another, a storm of questions and anxious speculation.

Leo raised a hand to calm them. “I don't know the reason behind it either,” he said earnestly. “Honestly, I was just as surprised when I heard. But from what I understand, the Hero's Trial itself will also be moved up. I know it's not ideal, and I'm sorry that some of you will have less time to prepare... but ultimately, the decision lies with the council.”

Orin's chest tightened. So soon...?

He exchanged a glance with Sirius, who looked equally stunned. If the selection was imminent, and there were only five days left, then every move from now on mattered more than ever. Every class. Every evaluation. Every duel.

And deep down, one question pulsed within him, louder than all the rest.

Had the names already been decided?