The week passed.
Zephyrion found himself standing before his full-length mirror. He looked so tall in his pure black shirt tucked into his baggy cargo pants. With his hair neatly tied in a ponytail, every inch of him looked neat and presentable. Every youth being drafted today was meant to wear this. He couldn’t help but admire how he looked.
He could imagine his mother standing there, struggling to wipe away the tears from her eyes after unleashing an endless barrage of kisses on his cheeks. She would moan and whine, asking if he really had to go, before convincing herself there was no other choice. She would probably follow him all the way to the academy gates.
If she were here. If...
He exhaled through his nose. He had to focus. Today was a big day.
Every youth from across the Ferran Empire would be attending, especially those from the Dynasty houses. The Sarakhel Faith House. The royal house of Eryndor. The great craft house, Kharadun. Each of them would send their best.
Lumi stood beside him, proudly taking in her appearance. The black top practically swallowed her whole, while the cargo pants were even worse. She looked like a kitten that had wandered into someone else’s clothes.
Shaking his head, he turned inward, examining himself.
The element runes in his mind orbited freely. The beam of pressure steadily ate away at the fog surrounding the metal rune. He had long since received the expected elixirs from Garrick, and throughout the week, he had risen to Mark Seven.
Unfortunately, that was as far as he had gone.
Before becoming a Herald, he had to undergo another reforging. Otherwise, the stable foundation he had been painstakingly building would be for naught. He had to wait for the rod to awaken, however long that would take.
After briefly checking the rest of the runes, he emerged from his metal space. Lumi was staring at him now, apparently done admiring herself.
Confirming that the rod, elixirs, and egg were all with him, he nodded.
"Let’s go."
They left the room.
Outside, Tobias, Kaiden, and Fiona were already waiting, each one packed and ready in their own ways. He noted the large backpack Tobias carried but remained silent.
After quick greetings, they left the mansion and headed toward where the main gathering was taking place.
The main building swarmed with youths. From the Foundry, Iron, and Steel divisions, every trainee was present, all dressed in pure black tops and cargo pants.
They parted as he walked, whispers rippling through the crowd in his wake. None dared meet his eyes, yet they stared. Awe. Respect. Even from the Steel trainees.
After everything he had done over the past month, the views of many had changed. Now they looked at him the way one would an untouchable legend.
Lumi raised her chin, basking in the attention as though it rightfully belonged to her.
Tobias and Fiona scratched their heads awkwardly under the stares, while Kaiden tried his best to project indifference. Unfortunately, the corners of his mouth kept twitching upward, giving him away.
He reached the front of the crowd. Kaelion was staring at him, both fists clenched at his sides.
Zephyrion hadn’t seen his cousin since his defeat during the Proving. He imagined it must have bruised his ego. Yet here he was, staring at him with a fierce, unwavering gaze.
Eventually, Kaelion strode forward.
"Zephyrion. I lost to the Ocren. Fine. But don’t think that means this is over. I’m still coming for you. However long it takes, I’ll beat you."
He turned and left without waiting for a response.
A moment later, Kaiden’s hesitant voice came.
"...Was I really that cringe?"
Zephyrion nodded.
Kaiden’s face twisted. His ears immediately turned red. He stared at Kaelion’s retreating back, and Zephyrion could practically see the boy swearing never to sound like that again.
He waited in silence. Eventually, multiple figures emerged from the main building. The three great lines. Garrick. And the Head of House Calderalth, Kastor.
Of them all, it was Garaxe who stepped forward first.
"You youths are the future of Calderalth. Up until today, you have trained and worked hard, sweated and bled, all to live up to the grand name you bear. Now comes the time to prove it was worth it. The academy will demand much from you. The military even more. But I believe you will endure. I believe you will show the world exactly what it means to be Calderalth. Unbending. Unbroken. Steel."
Arms clenched. Teeth gritted. Garaxe’s words had struck home. The eyes of the youths blazed.
"I wish you all good fortune."
As he stepped back, Ingrid stepped forward.
"You are the finest of your generation. Never forget that. As you leave here today, carry the name Calderalth with pride, dignity, and honor. Hold your heads high. I expect great things from every one of you."
She glanced at Zephyrion, holding his gaze for a brief moment before looking away.
"Good luck."
The youths nodded, solemn expressions on their faces.
Next was Garrick. He winked at Zephyrion, stared at Lumi for a moment, then sneered at the others.
"If any of you brats come back with anything less than first place, don’t bother coming home. I’ll break every bone in your body, glue them back together, and break them again just to make sure the lesson sticks, then fee—"
"Garrick!"
Garaxe lunged forward and dragged Garrick back while clamping a hand over his mouth.
"Mhm! Mhm!"
The youths couldn’t help but watch the scene with wry expressions. Zephyrion inwardly shook his head. Leave it to Garrick to turn every serious occasion into a joke.
"I think it’s time to hear something from the Head of House."
All eyes turned toward Kastor, including Zephyrion.
Kastor calmly stepped forward before giving a curt nod.
"Good luck."
Every soul waited for more. Then Kastor turned and walked back into the main building. Silence fell over the grounds, broken only by Garaxe clearing his throat.
"That’s that. You may all leave."
Zephyrion’s gaze lingered on Ingrid as she walked away. For some reason, he felt the urge to say something. They wouldn’t be seeing each other for many years, after all. He weighed the pros and cons. Why he should do it. Why he shouldn’t.
"...Zephyrion? Is something wrong?" Fiona asked.
He came out of his thoughts. Ingrid was already gone. He felt a pang in his chest, killed it, then shrugged. She hadn’t bothered to say goodbye anyway. Why should he care?
"There’s nothing," he said to Fiona. "Let’s go."
Calderalth had arranged transportation for every Calderalth youth. Across the three divisions, there were roughly one hundred and forty youths in total.
Numerous carriages were spread across the grounds, guarded by a small army of warriors clad in whitish armor.
Whitesteels.
Zephyrion was given his own carriage, which he didn’t hesitate to share with the others. Lumi, Tobias, Fiona, Kaiden, and surprisingly, Kaelion joined him.
The journey was swift, with few stops along the way. Calderalth Mountain lay in the far northern reaches of the Southern region. Their destination, the military academy, was located closer to the center of the empire.
Throughout the quiet ride, Zephyrion allowed his mind to wander. Everything that had happened so far. The discovery that he had been manipulated by Frost. Returning home. Meeting everyone. Choosing a goal. A lot had happened, yet there were still far too many unknowns.
Why had Frost attacked Ferravyr? Who had the Order sent to spy on him in the capital?
He still hadn’t forgotten about the spy in his mansion, the one feeding information to the Order. Yet despite the numerous traps he had set over the past weeks, none had yielded anything. Either the spy was more capable than he had thought.
Or she was already dead.
Betty.
But the implications of the latter were simply too much to bear.
Then there was the matter of Lumi. An heir.
He still didn’t understand what Garrick had seen. Garrick had tried again afterward, but even he had failed to uncover much. Those old monsters had measure upon measure in place to ensure their arts only fell into the hands of their chosen heir.
She hadn’t experienced another incident since then, which was a plus. Still, it felt torturous. Being unable to do anything but wait. Just like the ambush. Zephyrion’s hands slowly tightened into fists.
Never.
He would never be that helpless again.
The Ferran Military Academy dominated the center of the empire.
Sprawled across vast stretches of land spanning thousands of kilometers, with countless buildings scattered across its expanse, it looked less like an academy and more like an entirely different world.
Their procession eventually reached the southern outer gates and disembarked.
Many youths from the Southern Region had already gathered. From the high houses to the mid and low houses, they all stared at the approaching Calderalth youths. Particularly Zephyrion. Awe, respect, and hatred filled many faces.
The heaviest stares came from the descendants of the city lords. Each stood alongside the youths of their houses, watching him.
They hadn’t come to greet him. As Prime, he was the leader and representative of the southern youths within the academy.
They were sending a message. He might have won the Proving, but they had not accepted him as their leader.
His eyes suddenly met Kaelith Korrath’s. The boy immediately stiffened before turning away. Nedra Heno stared at him a little too intently. Vaelor Ocren’s gaze was cold. Lucien glared openly at Fiona.
Only Draven Hartvain approached with a wide grin.
"I am Draven Hartvain!"
His voice boomed across the area as he slapped a fist against his chest, muscles flexing.
"Bro, we didn’t get to fight, but your matches during the Proving were incredible! That’s how a warrior is supposed to fight! Real men know real men when they see them. We should be brothers!"
Zephyrion stared at Draven’s outstretched hand, then at his broad, confident grin, speechless.