Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye.
Riven never returned.
His name wasn't mentioned - but his shadow lingered.
In the training halls, Jacob became a constant. His steps were always measured, as if he danced to a rhythm no one else could hear. Clean hits, subtle reads - never flashy, never wasteful.
Kalen Voss, on the other hand, became a force that followed. Day after day, he trained beyond his limits...
Eyes hollow with resolve. He no longer sought to catch up - he aimed to outpace.
In Ki class, Torin's anchored style had drawn praise. Seris refined her spells with precision that rivalled professors.
Veyna, always kept conversations turning sharp behind smiles.
Fayl Kera threw whimsical notes, and insults with ease; Selle Varn matching stride for stride - sometimes in sarcasm, other times sparring.
Caelun Redd said little, but when he did, silence followed shortly.
In Magic theory, Enyx's answers were too sharp for his age. Izan's magic crashed like thunder, direct and unrelenting; while Mira Dask read spells aloud like poetry.
Even Lyria's beast - mostly unseen - had drawn attention from upper years.
A certain flow, danced in the sky.
A period of further growth with that came.
Lessons rolled in like storms. Whispers grew louder...
"Did you hear...there might be a ghost in the South Tower..."
"First-years shouldn't be this loud"
"Did you hear? They're preparing something..."
Beneath it all, one feeling lingered -
Something was coming.
Even the second-years noticed.
They stood higher, walked slower, spoke with familiarity, but there was a shift in the way they looked at the First Year Elite Class.
No longer just upperclassmen passing with neutral glances.
They stopped.
Measured.
Observed what they had that made them so widely conversed.
Whispers turned to questions.
"So these are the prodigies?" one muttered, watching from the edge of the training grounds.
"Look at them... nobles with titles and commoners with attitudes. Eldris really is changing."
It was changing...
The murmurs had reached every corner by now.
Echoing through the cafeteria in between bites of bland meals.
Then it came.
A ripple.
A voice, speaking directly inside their thoughts.
"All first-year students. Report to the Grand Hall by sundown. This is a mandatory gathering. Formal uniform. No exceptions."
No name was addressed.
No source of how it was done.
But only one person could project across the campus like that.
Kael Sarn.
The Headmaster's voice left no room for question. It prompted all the first years to stop their actions.
It was clean. Clinical.
Students looked at one another. Some confused. Others expectant.
Those in Elite Class barely moved, wherever they were.
Sceptical looks passed through air. Others smiling.
Even the second years who heard the tremor, paused.
Something was happening.
-----
The sun dipped.
Not suddenly, but as if it too, had heard the command.
By the time the day bled orange, every corridor in Eldris buzzed with motion. Doors opening. Footsteps clattering. Threads of conversations filling the elevators in the dorms.
Uniforms were pressed crisp.
Faces unreadable.
In the dormitories, steam rose from mirrors.
Water dripped from washed hair. Cloaks swayed in the wind.
Collars straightened.
Boots polished.
Some stared in the mirror, wondering what the Headmaster's call meant. Others just stared to gratify themselves.
Kalen Voss stood alone in his room, silent, gaze fixed on the silver trim of his sleeve.
His hands were finally still.
Barely.
He slid his phone from the desk and glanced at the time.
Five minutes until sundown.
The voice still echoed faintly in his skull.
Not the message. But the way it was conveyed.
The control of it all....
Huff
He took a breath. Then turned to leave, boots clicking lightly.
In the girl's wing, Seris tightened the cuffs of her uniform.
She hadn't spoken much since last lesson. Her thoughts covered with the message also,
Her fingers paused at the academy crest pinned to her chest. She adjusted it slightly.
Perfect.
'Just like him...'
Outside the dorms. Strolling around.
Fayl Kera was mid-complaint:
"You'd think with all this grandeur, they'd at least let us know why we're marching into the Hall at sunset", he said, slipping his gloves on lazily.
Selle Varn didn't slow her stride.
"Maybe if you spent less time talking, you'd feel the tension in the air."
"I do, that's why I'm talking." he shot back, grinning.
She didn't answer, but the glance she made said enough.
Whispers continued around the whole Academy;
"Why sundown?"
"You think it's the tournament?"
"No way....that's months out"
"Maybe they're moving the Elite Class into second year?"
Theories flew around; some ridiculous, others...not that much.
In the hazed distance, bells rang.
RIIIINGGG!
Long. Deep. Final.
The doors to the Grand Hall opened.
The light inside contrasted with the out;
It was white. Cold. Waiting.
The light bathed everything in a sterile white.
There was no seats unlike last time.
Open floor, and a single path clearing forward.
Students filled around like pieces to a puzzle, leaving space in the front.
All eyes turned to the front. Waiting for the Headmaster.
It was then they entered...
Fifteen students. The ones who already stirred admiration or resentment for most of the others present.
The Elite.
They didn't walk in a line.
Each moved with presence, individual to them.
Like wolves in formation.
At the front, Jacob walked with ease, one hand tucked in his pocket, the other lightly brushing his coat.
Next to him, her steps measured and precise, was Seris Halden.
Their conversation was quiet - too quiet but hear. But it didn't go unnoticed.
Not far from them stood Kalen.
But he seemed to be discussing something with Veyna Aris...
The hall was bustling with murmurs and whispers. Waiting to see what the fuss was about.
Aelana Cael stood on the far right, hand resting near her chin. She wasn't paying attention to the noise. Her gaze was far, thoughtful.
Maybe even troubled.
No sparks today.
Mira noticed, briefly, but said nothing.
Across her, Lyria was rooted. Idly running her fingers over a beast engraved ring. The purple haze in her eyes flickered.
"You're staring again," she muttered, voice low, directed at Fayl - who had in fact been glancing at her, way too often.
Selle nudged him, "You're gonna get eaten."
A few around them laughed. The tension cracking only a little.
Creak
The shift was immediate.
A low current moved through the hall; subtle but heavy. Chatter dimmed.
At the front, the wide entrance doors parted with a creak.
And then...they walked in.
Not five. Not ten.
More.
A wave of instructors moved with command. Some wearing standard silver trimmed coats of the faculty. Others with deeper ranks. Dark robes.
At the front was the ever familiar: Korreth Halden.
His face was unreadable.
Beside him was Mireya Varn, a glowing data pad on her wrist.
Jael Cendric moved with polished strides.
Tasha Renne, scanned the students like a hawk.
Maerth Olin's cane tapped with every step, rhythm measured, weight behind every movement.
It didn't end there.
Multiple instructors seemingly for the other first year classes aside from the Elite were here.
They formed a line at the front of the hall.
This wasn't a lesson...that was clear.
It was display.
Power. Authority. Expectation.
'Why?'
The hall was silent as they lined up, staring at all the students.
The silence was broken -
"All first year students."
"You've trained. You've clashed. You've endured for the small period of time you've been here."
"Now...you'll be measured."
'Measured?'
The same word floated in the air. Ping ponging around.
"Measured?" someone whispered.
"Wait - are they ranking us again?", a boy near the back leaned forward.
"I thought induction was over" a girl clutched her wrist instinctively.
Feet shuffled on the spot.
Eyes darted around.
Tension was apparent.
"You think they're gonna cut people?" -
That alone silenced a whole corner of the crowd.
The murmurs had taken on a pulse of their own - buzzing tension swimming through the sea of first years. Then without warning;
FLASH!
He appeared.
Not walked. Not entered.
Appeared.
Right at the front. Kael Sarn.
The Headmaster of Eldris stood before them in full black robes etched in metallic threads, a calm weight to his posture. A measuring gaze.
The murmurs hadn't existed when he materialised.
Instantly.
A moment passed...
Then his voice cut through the air.
"A few weeks has passed"
Smooth. Every word deliberate.
"You've sparred. Trained. Judged your peers."
His eyes scanned the hall.
"But now, you need to remember why. Why we do what we do."
A brief silence.
"The Eldris Showcase will begin in three days.
All first-years will participate. Every name, every class, from the lowest to the highest. This is your proving ground. There will be no hiding."
A pause filled the hall.
'Show-'
"Second and third-year students will observe, assist and, in some cases...participate. Their role is to remind you that power at Eldris is earned. Not gifted".
'Third years?!'
He paused, then added,
"Some of you will rise. Most will fall."
FLASH!
From behind him, Vice Headmaster Vei Alros stepped forward. Her short dark hair contrasting with her long, silver coat.
"This is no formality. The Planetary Council will observe the matches. The winners will be considered for future representation."
!
The crowd stirred; low gasps and shared glances.
"This is what you were brought here for. Not just to learn - but to prove."
She took a pause.
Glancing left and right.
All the shocked faces.
Nervous expressions.
Fidgeting.
Sweating, even.
The cold light reverberated from the hexes in the skylight.
But Vei's voice? That was colder.
"The gates of Eldris will open.
And for the first time in years....
The whole world will watch this showcase."
------
**Author's Note:**
Let me know what you guys think so far! Drop a comment or leave a review - it really helps a lot.
And if you're enjoying the story, don't forget to add it to your collection!
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