After the shock of what had just occurred, the assembly slowly regained its composure.
Whispers spread.
Why had Aerys been so close to Proctor Kael?
Why had a discarded imperial son drawn the attention of a monster like him?
The ducal heirs watched him now with thinly veiled contempt.
All the Proctors advanced toward the center of the amphitheater, their towering silhouettes casting long shadows over the attentive faces below. The Proctor of Fulgaris stepped forward and spoke.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said in a deep, steady voice, "it is time for you to depart for your respective Houses. Each of you has been chosen according to your merits. It is time to join your destiny."
One by one, the Proctors designated their groups, guiding them with almost ceremonial precision through the vast corridors of the Academy and toward the embarkation platforms.
There, immense airships awaited them—each bearing the sigil of its House. Their Essence engines hummed softly, restrained power ready to be unleashed.
Eyes turned. Murmurs grew louder. Tension thickened the air.
One by one, the cadets boarded. Excitement and apprehension shone in their eyes as the Proctors watched in silence. Then the vessels rose into the star-filled sky, their silhouettes shrinking into the distance, carrying the heirs toward their new lives.
Aerys observed everything ,every movement. Every reaction.
Knowing the next step would seal his own path.
The transport bearing Aerys and his fellow cadets traveled for hours After nearly three, the clouds broke into a fine rain.
Canyon walls loomed fifty kilometers to the west, forty to the east. Below stretched an entire ecosystem—mountains, forests, rivers, plains.
Their battlefield.
The stronghold of House Celerion lay at the heart of the highlands, amid moss-covered hills, jagged peaks, and wide grassy plateaus. Fog clung everywhere—to slopes, meadows, and dense forests that draped the rocky foothills in shadow.
The fortress rose north of a river, atop a hill overlooking the center of a colossal basin, enclosed to the north and south by two immense semicircles of mountains.
Then Aerys saw it.
A white castle.
That's the White Keep.
Its walls were magnificent—almost unreal. Like a creation of magic itself, reminiscent of the Imperial Palace, still vibrant after centuries.
Those who lived within these walls were members of House Celerion.
This was their domain.
They landed and continued on foot. Along the approach, Aerys noticed dried-up fountains—long neglected.
"Is this place decaying?" someone whispered.
As they neared the walls, the pressure grew heavier. It felt as if a massive hand pressed against Aerys's chest, as if a colossal lion might rise from behind the stone at any moment.
Nothing happened.
But the sensation lingered.
When the cadets passed through the gates, Aerys was struck silent.
"I feel like I'm in a palace," someone whispered.
"That's it—Lionsrock!"
Inside the white walls, the architecture was breathtaking. Walls, roads, and arches were carved with lions—statues, reliefs, symbols everywhere. It felt less like a fortress than like living inside a monumental sculpture.
The cadets couldn't help turning their heads.
Even Aerys failed to suppress his curiosity.
They reached another gate.
The lion carvings merged seamlessly into its structure.
They stepped onto the Lion's Maw and entered the inner castle.
A vast hall opened before them, its walls and floor carved with reliefs of gigantic lions. Aerys noticed that the carvings told a story—but he had no time to study it.
His stomach tightened as he entered the dining hall, blending into the restless mass of students.
The chamber was immense. White marble floors. Massive columns.
This wasn't the hell he had expected.
It was worse. It was beautiful.
According to the Emperor, we are here to be hardened, Aerys thought, suppressing a bitter laugh.
Twelve tables, each seating a hundred cadets.
Assigned seating.
Names appeared above the chairs in suspended golden glyphs, fed by controlled Essence.
Aerys searched.
He found it.
Aerys —
Head of the table.
To the right, a –1, raw rank.
To the left, a single Notch—the first mark of distinction.
He knew what it meant.
Five Notches made a Primus.
Five recognized feats.
The first student to reach them would lead the House.
His results in the written examination must have been exceptionaly above the others. Perhaps his performance during Leos's test had also played a role.
But his score was not a reward.
It was a target.
"How charming," a slow, venomous voice drawled.
"The rejected son at the head of the race."
Aerys turned.
He didn't recognize her from the trials—but she was unmistakable.
Slim. Perfect posture. Impeccable presence.
Her name glowed above her.
Lysandra — –6
Her beauty was sharp, deliberate. Pale hair catching Essence-light like living gold. A face born to rule—or to crush.
Across from her sat Callius Bellos, smiling broadly, fingers running through his curly hair.
–5 hovered above his head.
"I suppose the Empire calls this fairness," Lysandra added softly.
Callius laughed.
The boy opposite Aerys was named Prios.
He too bore a –1 and a Notch.
Unlike Callius, sprawled comfortably, Prios sat perfectly straight. Broad-shouldered, composed, almost inhumanly flawless.
A statue.
Aerys learned that Prios's written score matched his own—but his magical aptitude far surpassed it.
Callius's written score had been average, but his magic exceeded even Prios's.
"And destiny reunites us," Callius declared to me cheerfully.
"And Lysandra, my dear love, I'm certain our fathers conspired to seat us together."
"I'll send them a thank-you note,"
she sneered and raised a finger at him.
"I'd rather throw you out a window, Cali."
He laughed and blew her a kiss.
Prios spoke calmly. Gracefully.
"As a group, I believe we'll do well."
Callius began assigning nicknames to the other cadets.
Prios defended them.
Aerys noticed Sevrius, the commoner from the shuttle, at the far end of the table.
Cassius glanced at Aerys's –1.
"so tell us, prince," he said at last.
"How did you cheat?"
Aerys laughed.
"Oh, come on. Cheating's impossible. The Committee even interrogated me. Why—did you try?"
The atmosphere chilled.
Control. Manners, Aerys warned himself.
He had insulted an Empirian.The son of Tiberos Bellos A potential protector. an Imperator The ideal protector, whose allegiance and patronage would have offered him protection and opened the doors of the military hierarchy. Ighoras was right. A single second of inattention is all it takes. To succeed, Aerys need the allegiance of the neutral nobility, an army, or a fleet. Goodbye fleet. And I risk a duel. Sweat is starting to trickle down my back. Callius must have been training since birth, while I'm just starting to handle essence. He'd cut me to pieces. The idea seems to appeal to him quite a bit, too.
He recovered quickly.
"I'm joking," he said lightly.
"I studied until I bled. In the end, we're all here anyway."
Callius accepted the apology.
I bet you had a rough time! he said
Aerys wasn't expecting that.he imagined him to be more proud than thoughtful, more eager to defend his honor than to strategize. Empirious are proud, but they aren't stupid.Aerys learned an important lesson that night
Later, Aerys behaved impeccably. he chat with a girl named Jinna. he get better acquainted with Callius and Prios—the latter of whom has probably never uttered a swear word in his life. he shake hands with a brute named Titos: his neck is as thick as histhigh, and he deliberately tries to crush his fingers. He smiles when Aerys return the favor, He is even taller than Callius or him, with a voice from beyond the grave. He speaks in a strange way, almost too disdainful. Aerys also meet a boy named Rosis, thin and light as a feather, who speaks like a poet. When he smiles, which is rare, his smiles prove to be deep and sincere. They all have different reactions when he speaks to them; they are surely surprised that the bastard is in the same house as them.
Prios and Callius, with smiles on their lips, then join the Mid-Selected; the latter seems kinder than he appears. Of everyone at the table, Lysandra is the only one who doesn't like Aerys. She makes no secret of it. While the others look at me with curiosity or discomfot, Aerys feel nothing but contempt from her. As soon as her eyes land on him, while she laughs and flirts with Rosis, they turn to ice. The feeling is mutual
His chamber was a dream.
A golden-framed window overlooking the valley.
A cold shower to calm his thoughts.
Then he collapsed into a bed of silk, velvet, and down.
Is this their idea of hardship?he said
He fell asleep full, holding the medallion containing his mother's image.