The capital was unlike anything they had seen before.
As the carriage wheels rolled over polished stone roads, tall walls rose around them—elegant and strong, lined with enchantments that glowed faintly beneath the morning sun. The scent of fresh bread, perfume, and old paper filled the air, mixing with the distant hum of magic. Here, even the air felt different—crisp, purposeful, alive.
Zeshia pressed her face to the window with a childlike gasp. "Zenith, Zenith! Look at that tower—no, that one! This place is insane!"
Zenith, calm as ever, simply closed her book with a quiet thud and looked out the window. "It's large," she said. "And loud."
Her silver eyes swept across the buildings of marble and crystal, the airships hovering in the distance, and the people—nobles and commoners alike—moving through the streets in enchanted robes and bustling chatter. She wouldn't admit it aloud, but even she felt a flicker of wonder.
This city was alive with magic.
Zeshia groaned and slumped dramatically onto Zenith's shoulder. "Ugh, I think I'm dying. Carriages are torture devices."
"You say that every time."
"And I mean it every time." She reached up and poked Zenith's cheek. "No sympathy for your suffering sister?"
Zenith pulled out a small vial from her satchel and handed it to her wordlessly.
Zeshia brightened. "You do love me!"
"You're loud. That counts as being alive."
Soon, the carriage slowed and stopped in front of towering gates marked with ancient glyphs. Beyond them stood the legendary Imperial Academy of Elemental Crowns. A place where the strongest mages were trained. Where secrets, buried for centuries, whispered beneath the surface.
They stepped down from the carriage.
Zenith handed the driver a heavy pouch of coin. "You saw nothing. You heard nothing."
The man nodded, wide-eyed. "Of course, miss. Nothing at all."
The twins walked through the academy gates, joining the sea of students gathering for the entrance examination. The central hall was enormous, carved from dark stone and illuminated by floating orbs of soft light. Banners of different elemental houses hung from the ceiling—flame, water, wind, stone, and more esoteric ones like void and illusion.
Students filled the space—some wearing fine silk cloaks adorned with family sigils, others in simple tunics. There were murmurs of nervous chatter, excited laughter, and quiet intimidation. Nobles looked down their noses. Commoners looked up at the high arches.
Zeshia leaned close. "So many rich kids. I bet one of them is gonna faint during the battle test."
Zenith simply stood, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Her eyes flicked across the room, assessing. Memorizing. Her thoughts weren't on the others, but on what lay ahead.
They hadn't come here to make friends.
They had come for answers.
This academy held records and knowledge hidden from the outside world. If there was any clue to their origins—their amnesia, their strange abilities—it would be here.
A hush spread through the hall as golden light gathered at the front stage.
A figure stepped into view.
Tall. Composed. Long blond hair tied back neatly. He wore a high-collared military-style coat, embroidered with gold thread and marked with the royal crest. He looked young—no older than nineteen—but the entire room reacted with immediate attention.
A few gasps. Then whispers.
"Wait... isn't that—?"
"The second prince?"
"I thought his brother was supposed to come!"
Zeshia squinted. "That's the prince?"
Zenith didn't answer, but her gaze remained on the young man as he walked to the center of the stage. His posture was perfect. His smile, gentle and formal. A little too polished.
He looked over the crowd with ease.
When his eyes passed over them, Zenith felt it—a slight pause. A flicker. His gaze lingered for a fraction longer than necessary before continuing.
Then, he spoke.
"I welcome all prospective students to the Imperial Academy of Elemental Crowns," he said, voice smooth, practiced. "I am Prince Yvonne De Fiore, second prince of this empire. My elder brother, the first prince, regrets he could not attend."
Zeshia snorted quietly. "Yeah, I'm sure he regrets it."
Zenith allowed herself the tiniest curve of a smile. Barely visible.
Yvonne continued, "Today marks the beginning of your journey. The academy is not only a place of learning, but of challenge. And to enter, you must first prove yourselves."
He gestured behind him and glowing glyphs floated into view, displaying the examination steps.
"There will be three stages. First: a written exam, covering basic magical theory, elemental structures, and general knowledge. A score of at least sixty percent is required to proceed."
Some groaned. Others straightened up nervously.
"Second," he continued, "an elemental aptitude test. You will be evaluated to determine which elements you are naturally attuned to."
Zenith's calm expression did not shift—but she and Zeshia shared a brief glance.
They would have to be careful here.
Their true abilities—control over all elements—was something they had never revealed. To others, Zenith was a wielder of water, void, and enchantment. Zeshia was known for wind enchantment and, unusually, darkness.
But that wasn't the whole truth.
And if the wrong people discovered it—
"Third," the prince announced, "a practical examination. A demonstration of combat and magical ability in the form of a controlled duel."
Zeshia's eyes lit up.
"Oh yes. Finally."
Zenith sighed softly. "Don't get carried away."
"No promises."
The prince concluded with a few more formalities, but Zenith barely heard them. Her mind was already running through the plan—how to mask their abilities, how to avoid suspicion, and most of all, how to find the answers they had been seeking since the day Madam Binne had found them unconscious in that forest.
And for the first time, even she felt it.
A quiet flicker in her chest.
Not fear.
Not excitement.
But the undeniable sense...
Something was going to begin.
(Yvonne De Fiore's POV)
Standing behind the stage curtain, Yvonne De Fiore resisted the urge to groan aloud.
"Of course he bailed," he muttered under his breath, tugging his gloves tighter.
His dear older brother—the so-called responsible Crown Prince—had conveniently dumped the opening ceremony of the Imperial Academy onto him. Again. All the formality, none of the fun.
With a quiet sigh and the graceful smoothness expected of royalty, Yvonne stepped out into the open.
The grand entrance hall fell into silence as he appeared. Hundreds of soon-to-be students filled the room, eyes wide with nerves or awe. Some whispered, thinking themselves subtle.
"That's the second prince..."
"He's the one who won the border skirmish last year, right?"
"I thought the Crown Prince was supposed to come—"
"He's way more handsome than the paintings."
Yvonne ignored them with a smile that looked easy, even though it wasn't. He carried himself with that casual poise only a lifetime of royal training could produce. As he reached the front of the stage, he let his golden eyes sweep across the crowd.
His Sight activated automatically—an ability he kept mostly to himself. He could see a person's elemental affinity as a glow around them, the colors shifting with their magical essence.
Red for fire. Blue for water. Green for wind. Earth, light, shadow, lightning—they all flickered around their wielders, painting the room in a subtle rainbow only he could see.
Then, for just a fraction of a second, his gaze flicked past something strange.
Two girls—identical silver-haired figures in the middle of the crowd. Their auras weren't colored like the rest.
They shimmered like a galaxy. A spiral of stars. All elements, and none of them. It was like staring into a dream... Or a memory that didn't belong to this world.
He paused. Briefly. The tiniest hesitation.
Then looked away.
"Did I imagine that?" he thought. But his expression didn't change.
Not the time.
He straightened slightly and addressed the crowd.
"Good morning, candidates," he announced, voice calm and steady. "I am Yvonne De Fiore, second prince of the Empire, standing in for my elder brother. Welcome to the selection day of the Imperial Academy."
His words rolled through the chamber, practiced and smooth.
"There are three stages to your evaluation. First, a written exam. You must score sixty percent or higher to proceed. Second, an elemental aptitude test—to determine your affinity and compatibility. And finally, a combat trial to test your capability in actual battle."
A few students exchanged nervous looks. Some tried to appear unfazed. He added with a wry smile:
"Don't worry. No one's been set on fire in years."
Laughter broke the tension. Yvonne let it linger before continuing.
"You are the future of this Empire. We expect strength, yes—but also clarity, intelligence, and will. Good luck."
As the applause rose, Yvonne took one final look over the crowd, gaze casual.
He didn't look directly at the twins again.
But in the back of his mind, a question lingered like a spark waiting to ignite:
What in the world were they?