Even at a distance, Ashveil Academy loomed grand and oppressive. Spires of black stone and ivory towers stretched into the sky, their tips lost in drifting clouds. Otoku's heart thumped in his chest as he walked the final stretch of the Azure Road leading to the main gate. The midday sun painted the grounds in golden light, but the air itself felt heavy with ancient power. Under the guise of the young wanderer "Kai Orin," he took a steadying breath. He had arrived with a single purpose: to seek knowledge at the famed academy while hiding the void magic that simmered beneath his skin.
The Silver Gate itself was carved with ancient symbols. A silver-haired gate mage met them there, her eyes sharp as flint. "Name, origin, and reason for your arrival," she demanded, her voice echoing with authority. Otoku offered the guard his carefully chosen alias in a steady tone: "Kai Orin. I am from Ashen Vale, seeking to study elemental magics." The gate's runes flared to life as if probing his words and aura. For an instant, something dark flickered in the runes' glow, and Otoku's heart skipped a beat. The mage's quill hesitated over the names on her parchment.
Then she gave a curt nod and waved them through. "Welcome to Ashveil Academy, Mr. Orin," she said with a fleeting smile. The gate opened with a low groan, and Otoku stepped into the courtyard beyond. He exhaled quietly, forcing his heartbeat to slow.
Beyond the gate lay the heart of the academy: a vast stone courtyard thrumming with arcane energy. Students in robes of many colors congregated in clusters. Some wore the red and gold of the Phoenix Clan, others the silver and blue of the Azure Circle, and still others in midnight-black cloaks bearing the symbol of the Shadow Covenant. The air crackled with excitement and anxious anticipation. Otoku's gaze swept over the crowd.
A group of scarlet-robed flame mages practiced spells in a corner. A pair of students in silver-blue uniforms sparred with wooden training blades. A trio of woodland elves huddled near an oak tree, their braids trailing ivy and oak leaves as they whispered secrets. All around him, Ashveil's promise of knowledge and hidden power burned bright in the midday sun.
Gravy walked beside him, his own robes nondescript and unassuming. He flashed Otoku a nervous grin. "Looks a bit overwhelming, doesn't it?" he murmured.
Otoku managed a soft laugh. "A little," he replied, attempting a light tone he didn't feel. "But we'll find our place here, and no one will notice a thing," he said quietly.
They followed the crowd through a series of stone archways into a great hall at the academy's center. Torches along the walls blazed to life with ghostly blue flames the moment the last newcomers stepped inside. A hush fell over the students as they gathered on stepped stone tiers, facing a raised platform at the front.
For a long moment, only silence hung in the air. Then, from the shadows at the back, a tall figure stepped forward.
"Welcome, students, to Ashveil Academy," the man began. His voice was calm and even, but carried to every ear in the hall as if whispered in their own minds. Otoku stilled as the instructor's eyes locked onto him. The man's eyes were a piercing silver, like twin moons reflected in darkness. His hair was streaked white and black and tied back, revealing a stern visage. He wore robes stitched with symbols of a forgotten language.
The man looked out over the crowd slowly, as though reading each face. "Ashveil was founded on a simple truth: knowledge reveals all truths, and no secret can stay hidden forever," he said. Otoku's spine tingled at the words. A chill ran down his neck.
The instructor gave a small, cryptic smile as he spoke. "We expect each of you to be honest with us and with yourselves," he continued, voice dripping with quiet menace. "Those who hide the truth often find that the academy itself will pry it out of them by its own means." His words hung in the air like a challenge.
Otoku's heartbeat thundered in his ears. His thoughts raced. Was this dark stranger aware of something buried within him?
Without another word, the instructor inclined his head and stepped back into the shadows. Murmurs flitted through the assembly like timid shadows. Students exchanged uneasy glances; some fidgeted in their seats.
The hall's tension lingered long after the class ended. Otoku and Gravy found a quiet spot by a fountain near the great hall. The water spilled in a crystalline cascade, oblivious to the unease shadowing the boys.
Gravy studied Otoku, concern furrowing his brow. "Everything okay, Otoku? You seemed on edge," he asked softly.
Otoku forced a casual grin. "It's nothing," he muttered, eyes downcast. "Just a long journey, that's all."
Gravy's brow furrowed deeper. "You've been saying that for weeks. You and I promised we'd face this together. But lately it feels like you're keeping secrets from me. What's really going on?"
Otoku's throat tightened. He shook his head. "Gravy... please, I don't want to worry you. There are things about me... things that could put you in danger. I'd rather handle them alone." His voice broke. "I promised someone long ago that I'd protect you. And I will, but right now I need distance to keep that promise."
Gravy's eyes flashed with hurt. "What promise? Otoku, who are you hiding this from? Me?" His voice wavered. "I don't understand... We promised we'd be honest with each other, no matter what. You can tell me."
Otoku took a step back, pain and guilt in his eyes. "I... I can't, Gravy," he whispered. For a moment they stood in silence, the sound of the fountain between them cold and distant as the space grew between their hearts.
Gravy blinked away a tear and nodded stiffly, forcing his anger down. "Fine," he muttered, voice breaking. "If you won't tell me, then I'll stop asking." He turned on his heel and walked away, shoulders hunched in hurt and confusion.
Otoku watched him go, guilt and sorrow knotting his stomach. He reached out a hand instinctively, then let it fall. The courtyard suddenly felt too large, and the fountains wept their sorrow in chilly spray.
Otoku bit back a sob. Kneeling by the fountain, he picked a pebble from the ground and tossed it into the glassy pool. The ripples spread out, distorting the reflection of the academy.
He thought of their promise and how quickly it had faltered. Shouldering his loneliness, he whispered to himself that he had to push forward, that his mission was greater than any one friendship.
He noticed a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye. Turning, he found the courtyard empty, save for shifting shadows. He shook off the feeling, but a flash of white hair caught his glance as it slipped behind a distant column. He blinked, but when he looked again, nothing remained.
"It's nothing," he told himself, though his heart raced. Little did Otoku know, eyes unseen had already marked him — the secrets of his past would be far harder to conceal than he imagined.