Chapter 21 — Before Dawn
The city woke long before the sun.
From the window of the small inn room, Zero watched Virel gradually emerge from the darkness as though the night itself had simply stepped aside. One lantern after another disappeared along the streets below while shopkeepers rolled open heavy wooden shutters, the faint scent of fresh bread and coal smoke rising into the cool morning air. Somewhere farther away, a blacksmith had already begun working, each measured strike of his hammer carrying across the rooftops before dissolving into the murmur of the waking city.
Beyond it all, towering over Virel like an ancient monument that cared little for the lives beneath it, three colossal black rings revolved endlessly around a pillar of pale-blue light that stretched beyond the clouds.
The Southern Transit Nexus.
For two days, Zero had found himself looking at it every morning.
Not because it was beautiful.
Because it refused to make sense.
The rings never accelerated.
Never slowed.
They simply continued turning with a rhythm older than the city built around them, as though they existed according to laws completely detached from everything else.
"They're impossible to ignore."
The voice came quietly from behind him.
Zero turned just enough to see Klaus sitting on the edge of his bed, fastening the leather straps around his vambraces. Judging by the circles beneath his eyes, he hadn't slept much. The straps were already secure, yet he tightened them once more anyway, only stopping when he noticed Zero watching him.
"...Couldn't sleep," he admitted with a sheepish grin.
"You tried."
"I did."
"And?"
Klaus laughed softly, though there wasn't much humor behind it.
"My mind kept deciding tomorrow was more important than sleeping."
Zero looked back toward the city.
"It isn't tomorrow yet."
Klaus blinked before letting out another quiet laugh.
"You know... that somehow doesn't help."
"It wasn't meant to."
Silence settled comfortably between them.
There was no need to fill it.
The room itself seemed to understand what today meant.
Not the examination.
The day before it.
Sometimes waiting demanded more from a person than battle ever could.
The common room below was crowded.
Candidates filled nearly every table, though the atmosphere was nothing like the lively evenings Zero and Klaus had grown accustomed to since arriving in Virel. Conversations remained subdued, breaking only occasionally into short bursts of laughter before quickly fading again. Most people focused on eating, checking their equipment, or quietly staring into their bowls while lost in thoughts they kept to themselves.
The innkeeper moved between tables with surprising efficiency despite the crowd.
"Eat while it's warm," he reminded a group near the door before setting down another tray. "You'll have enough reasons to be miserable tomorrow."
A few nervous chuckles answered him.
Klaus carried two bowls toward an empty table near the window and sat opposite Zero, tearing a piece of bread before speaking again.
"When I was little..."
He paused, searching for the words.
"I used to imagine everyone who reached this examination was already incredible."
Zero followed his gaze around the room.
A young woman sat alone wrapping fresh cloth around blistered palms, her fingers moving carefully despite the raw skin beneath them. Across from her, a broad-shouldered youth repeatedly adjusted the string of his bow, testing the tension before setting it down again with visible dissatisfaction. Near the entrance, another candidate silently mouthed the same sentence to himself over and over, as though memorizing courage before the day demanded it.
"They're nervous."
Klaus nodded.
"So are we."
"...Yes."
The answer came easily.
Not because Zero feared failure.
Because uncertainty had become impossible to ignore.
Ashvale had always felt like the world.
Its forests.
Its people.
Its struggles.
Leaving it behind had revealed something unsettling.
The world wasn't larger than he'd imagined.
It was immeasurably larger.
Villages became towns.
Towns became cities.
Cities answered to provinces.
And every answer they uncovered only seemed to expose another question waiting beyond it.
Klaus followed his line of sight toward the window.
"Funny, isn't it?"
"Hm?"
"We spent years trying to leave Ashvale."
He smiled faintly.
"And now that we're finally here..."
"...it feels like we've barely taken the first step."
Zero didn't answer immediately.
Because Klaus was right.
Somewhere beyond Virel stood the Imperial Capital.
Beyond the Capital...
the hidden Citadel.
And somewhere beyond even that—
the truth.
About the second heartbeat.
The Ascension Records.
The blood that flowed through his veins.
The streets leading toward the eastern district were already crowded by the time they left the inn.
Candidates moved in the same direction almost instinctively, creating a slow but steady current through the city. Some walked alone with calm expressions that revealed little, while others traveled beside parents or older siblings making one final attempt to offer advice before the examination.
Merchants had quickly adapted.
Temporary stalls lined the roadside, selling everything from dried meat to whetstones, waterskins, spare bootlaces, and simple charms carved from polished wood. One elderly woman insisted her charms brought good fortune, though judging by the amused expressions of the Imperial soldiers stationed nearby, she'd likely been making that claim for decades.
Klaus smiled.
"Think she's telling the truth?"
"No."
"...You answered that awfully fast."
"She knows better."
Klaus looked back just in time to see the woman wink at a customer before pocketing another handful of coins.
"...Fair enough."
The further they walked, the more disciplined the city became.
Market stalls gradually disappeared, replaced by broad stone buildings bearing the crimson crest of House Ignivar. Barracks stood alongside administrative halls, while training compounds echoed with the distant sound of steel striking steel. Imperial patrols appeared more frequently here, their movements calm and coordinated, each formation passing the next with effortless precision.
"They're different," Klaus murmured.
Zero nodded.
"They've fought."
"You can tell?"
"They aren't watching the crowd."
Klaus frowned before looking more carefully.
He realized Zero was right.
The soldiers weren't observing the candidates at all.
Their attention rested on rooftops.
Windows.
Side streets.
Places an attack might come from.
Years of battle had taught them where danger preferred to hide.
"They make Ashvale's hunters look..." Klaus hesitated, "...small."
The word lingered longer than either of them expected.
Not insulting.
Simply true.
Ashvale had survived.
The Empire endured.
There was a difference.
Ahead, the flow of candidates slowed.
A wide stone bridge crossed a narrow canal separating the examination district from the rest of the city, and Imperial soldiers stood waiting at its entrance. Families stopped there. Merchants stopped there. Even local nobles who had escorted their children personally remained behind the barrier.
Only candidates crossed.
Zero's attention drifted toward a woman standing a short distance ahead.
She wasn't old.
Perhaps in her mid-thirties.
Her son, however, looked barely fifteen.
She brushed an invisible speck of dust from his shoulder before doing it again moments later, earning an embarrassed sigh from the boy.
"Mother..."
"I'm fine."
"I know."
She smiled.
"I just..."
The sentence never finished.
Instead, she rested both hands on his shoulders, studying his face as though trying to memorize it.
The boy smiled awkwardly before gently removing one of her hands.
"I'll come back."
"You'd better."
Her voice remained steady.
Only her eyes betrayed her.
An Imperial soldier gestured toward the bridge.
The boy took a slow breath before nodding once.
Then he turned and walked forward without looking back.
His mother stayed where she was.
Watching.
Even after he'd disappeared into the crowd beyond the bridge.
Zero looked away first.
Not because the scene saddened him.
Because somewhere deep inside his fractured memories—
he had seen it before.
A woman.
Warm hands.
Silver flames.
And a voice he could no longer remember clearly.
End of Chapter 21 — Part I