Proctor Kael reappeared at first light like nothing happened.
His presence alone was enough.
The dormitory doors burst open with a low, thunderous groan, and his silhouette carved itself into the newborn dawn like a wound cut into the sky. His Proctor's mantle drifted around him, heavy with condensed Essence, and his eyes swept over the cadets—cold, precise, weighing them like defective stock.
"Up."
Nothing more.
That was when training truly began.
No drills.
No theory.
Essence—in earnest.
Kael spoke as they assembled in the courtyard, his voice carrying effortlessly across stone and mist. Training would be accelerated. First, because Lionsrock stood upon a leyline—an immense concentration of Essence so dense it saturated the entire domain of the Academy.
Not a natural one.
Deep within the surrounding forest lay an artificial leyline, forged centuries ago. Ancient mages had twisted the flow of Essence beneath the earth itself, forcing convergence where none had existed.
And it had endured for hundreds of years.
They didn't discover power, Aerys realized.
They bent it.
All cadets were permitted to draw upon the leyline's influence. Its contribution to survival—no, to dominance—was undeniable.
Monsters, Aerys thought.
Only monsters would build something like this.
Kael continued without pause.
"Second: grimoires. Martial and arcane."
His gaze lingered on them.
"You all understand their value."
Aerys' pulse quickened.
This was what he needed most.
ODI allowed him to learn techniques with terrifying efficiency—but strength required material. Structure. Knowledge.
"The Lionsrock library rivals those of the other Houses," Kael went on. "The higher the floor, the more dangerous the knowledge. Access will be granted accordingly."
A privilege.
One of the greatest in the Academy.
Books, Aerys thought. Finally.
They dragged themselves from the deceptive warmth of the fortress and followed Kael beyond the keep. The stone beneath their boots was wet, slick with cold. Kael made them stretch in silence—mechanical motions, muscles pulled until they burned—then he moved.
Running.
There was no command. No choice.
Their stride lengthened as the pace asserted itself—brutal, unrelenting. Rain began to fall, fine and needling, blending with mist that crawled along the ground like something alive. Ambient Essence vibrated faintly, thickened by the terrain.
To the west, canyon walls rose nearly fifty kilometers away.
To the east, forty.
Natural barriers.
More than six kilometers high.
Between them stretched an entire world.
Mountains.
Forests.
Rivers.
Plains.
A complete ecosystem.
Their battlefield.
The fortress of House Celerion dominated the highlands—ancient, massive—rising from moss-covered hills, grassy plateaus, and jagged peaks like broken blades. Fog clung everywhere: to slopes, to forests, pooling in low ground as if it breathed.
The castle itself rose from a natural butte at the center of a colossal basin, encircled north and south by two titanic arcs of mountains.
Three sides of the butte dropped into sheer cliffs—eighty meters straight down. The outer walls rose another thirty meters, bristling with towers. The keep itself exceeded fifty meters, anchored against the northwestern wall like a spine of stone.
Only one true access existed.
A single, gentle slope leading from the valley floor to the main gate.
A lie of a road.
They descended it in tight formation.
Aerys breathed deeply. The cold, damp air cut through lingering fatigue. After nights haunted by Essence and memory, it grounded him in something simple.
Move.
Survive.
Understand.
The sun finally broke through.
Mist tore apart beneath early summer light. Sleek cervids—too fast, too graceful to be natural—grazed near the treeline. Birds wheeled high above. A lone black corvid cried out, sharp and ominous.
Prophecy, perhaps.
Farther on, herds of wild goats and thick-fleeced beasts roamed the rocky moors.
Fifty-one cadets followed Kael.
Aerys didn't know what the animals meant to the others—Essence-altered fauna, or natural anomalies.
To him, they were simpler.
Food.
Hides.
Resources.
When Lea stumbled, Kael did not slow. He struck the ground sharply with his heel. Two cadets caught her instantly and forced her onward.
Kael could have outpaced them effortlessly. Instead, he ran just ahead—almost playful—before veering suddenly aside.
He struck.
The cervid never had time to flee.
His blade flashed. Essence sang. The edge wrapped around the beast's throat, constricted—and blood erupted in a dark arc.
"Dinner," Kael announced with a carnivorous smile. "Carry it."
"We could've killed it closer to the keep," Sevrius muttered.
Kael scratched his hair, feigning distraction.
"I heard something. A parasite, maybe."
He glanced back. "Anyone else want to speak?"
Silence.
Sevrius grabbed a leg.
"Idiot," he muttered.
Kilometers southwest of the fortress, they reached a rocky ridge. An ancient stone tower rose there, scarred by time and war.
They climbed.
From the summit, the world unfolded.
The operational theater was colossal. Southward, it stretched beyond sight. Snow-capped mountains sealed the western horizon. To the southeast, a primeval forest spread like a dark ocean.
At the center, a massive river split the fertile plain.
"Arios," Kael said.
The swollen waters twisted south, vanishing into marshland.
"Ios Tower," he added, indicating their position. "Eimos, there."
Another tower crowned an isolated mountain.
Kael gestured vaguely, tracing invisible borders.
"Western river: Furys. Eastern, beneath the keep: Metios. One bridge. One viable passage into the basin."
"Of course," Sevrius muttered.
"You build valleys like open wounds," Kael continued. "Mountains everywhere except one direct axis into the plains. A pathetic river guarding the approach."
"Well done," Kael replied. "You've discovered the Empire doesn't build to protect."
He smiled thinly.
"It builds to observe."
Callius stepped forward. "So… this is ours?"
Kael shrugged.
"Exactly. I'm your Proctor, not your nurse. Learn. Or die intelligently."
Above them, a titanic airship hovered—suspended by Essence, gleaming.
"The Eclipse," Kael said. "Observation platform. That's where we watch the game."
Lea staggered beside Aerys.
"How… how does that even stay up?"
He didn't answer.
He was staring north.
And he understood.
This land was not a refuge.
It was a cage.
And they were the pieces.
Kael turned back to them, eyes bright with something cruel.
"You will defend your banner.
You will defend your castle.
And you will conquer everything else."
He smiled.
"That," he said, "is how the Empire will test you."