The trip lasted several days.
The Vongold convoy was advancing in the northern plains like a silent army. The gravity tanks floated a few centimeters from the ground, their shells engraved with insignia, chains, and reversed crowns. Pedro and Bruno were traveling with the other Magisterions, a little further. Me, I was alone in a compartment, my eyes fixed on the landscape that passed by.
The closer we got, the more the scenery changed. The cultivated fields gave way to roads paved with clear marble, lined with colossal statues. Each statue represented an heir, a Patriarch of the past, sword, scepter raised, looking towards the horizon. All seemed to defy the centuries.
Then the city appeared.
Aurora.
Built on a height, surrounded by walls as white as polished bone, it shone under the sun like a mirage. The massive columns rose above the plain, and behind them tapered towers sprang skyward, each connected by bridges of light. At the top, an eternal flame burned, powered by a crystal of energy so pure that the air around him trembled.
The convoy stopped at the foot of the gates.
They opened without noise, two stone panels moving apart as if moved by an invisible will.
I missed the breath.
Inside, everything was too big. Too perfect. Shiny cobblestones, without the slightest crack. Marble arcades encrusted with golden veins. Suspended gardens where water flowed from basins in infinite cascades. Even the air seemed denser, charged with a vibrant energy that caressed the skin with a maternal warmth.
And in the center, the Great Amphitheater. A gigantic circular arena, capable of engulfing an entire army. Its terraces stood like cliffs; its black doors were already waiting for those who were going to get lost there.
I walked, escorted, among the other newcomers. We were a hundred or so, the youngest: "the Protophetos". All wore the same dark outfit, fitted jacket, belt stamped with the seal of the academy, reinforced boots. But despite the uniform, nothing masked the differences.
I could feel their glances.
The first was tall, stiff, with mauve hair drawn back. His bearing was straight as a blade, and even his silence weighed more than a scream. His aura resonated like an invisible pressure: methodical, disciplined.
Another, with perfect skin and eyes of a blue reminiscent of the sky, already detailed me with a grin. His gestures were slow, almost precious, as if he knew himself to be superior before even lifting a finger. The aura around him bit the skin.
Further on, a colossus with massive shoulders stretched his fingers; his nails became sharp claws before my eyes. His turned-up lips were revealing animal canines. He was smiling, but it was the smile of a predator who waits for his time.
A female figure caught my attention. Fine, slender, the skin of a warm brown, her black, squared hair, framed a face with clean, almost sculpted features. Her eyes shone with a strange brightness, like two mirrors made of gold. She stared at me, but her gaze was neither hostile nor welcoming. Ambiguous. As if she saw something else.
Further still, another girl with white hair, the piercing gaze emitted an icy aura. With each step, the temperature seemed to drop by a few degrees. His contempt was clear: for her, I was not a rival, but a mistake that had to be erased.
I would clench my fists.
Their looks weighed. None ignored me. Some were already laughing, others were whispering, still others judged me as a fairground beast.
I understood. Here, every step, every breath would be a fight and I will not let myself be intimidated.
We walked through the forum. Older heirs, already dressed in golden or silver insignia, watched us from the balconies. Some smiled with amusement; others looked away, bored.
Then I saw them.
Pedro, leaning on a railing, his chain wrapped around his arm, sent me an insolent wink. Next to him, Bruno, impassive, arms crossed, gazed at the horizon. Their presence offered me a respite, even briefly.
But they too were now far from me. In higher classes. Their world was no longer mine.
Then we were taken to our neighborhood and the doors opened.
Contrary to what I imagined, these were not cold corridors, but a luxurious residence. I then understood that what I called luxury, for them, was only a norm. Columns, fountains, mosaics. Each pavilion was larger than the richest palace I had seen on advertisements.
We were assigned our rooms. Mine, although considered modest, was the size of a huge loft. A bed of polished marble, white drapes, a view of the hanging gardens, and an exercise room on level -1.
I placed my hand on the railing. Below, dozens of students were already training in a secondary arena. The sounds resonated with an explosion of aura.
I felt my Thorn vibrate. The blades rustled deep inside me, impatient.
I whispered:
— This is where it starts...
That same evening, we were summoned to the Great Amphitheater.
The stands were full: heirs, mentors, elders. All came to gauge the new generation.
We, the Protophetos, were led to the center. The arena vibrated under our feet, and golden symbols lit up on the ground.
A voice resonated, amplified, heavy with meaning:
— Welcome to Aurora. Here you no longer carry the weight of your families. Here you wear your own chains. And they will decide your fate.
I looked up. All eyes were on us. Hostile. Curious. Contemptuous.
And me, in the middle of them, I was nothing.
I wanted to prove to them that nothing had fangs.
Like a dream shattered into pieces.
Aurora was not only an academy. It was a city, a fortress, a theater. Every stone, every column, every corridor seemed to have been built to recall a truth: here you were not free. You were observed. Judged. Weighed. Like a product.
The next morning, the crystal bells echoed in the villas. A clear sound, vibrating to the bone. No servants: everything was done by the crystals embedded in the walls. The water flowed by itself, the flames ignited with a flickering aura. Even the bread on the table would regenerate, sliced and hot, every time the last piece was broken.
A luxury that looked like nothing I had known. But a luxury that suffocated. Too perfect. Too forced.
The first day, I left my room and came across two silhouettes.
The first was a boy with tanned skin, mauve hair drawn back, impeccable uniform, each fold mastered. His gaze glided over me as if it were a miscalculation. He said nothing. Just this silent contempt, more violent than a thousand insults.
By his side, a girl with icy white hair stopped for a moment. Her blue eyes pierced me, then she let out a small dry laugh. Clear, sharp, deliberately humiliating.
I gritted my teeth, but I passed by without a word.
Training sessions punctuated our days. From dawn, we were led to the outer courtyards, vast open arenas surrounded by columns. There, the mentors watched us. Not professors: advanced Magisterions but retired, some crippled, others scarred. Their looks weighed like blades on our necks.
We were learning to channel the aura of our Thorns. To stand under their own weight. The weakest suffocated from the first minutes. Some collapsed, vomited blood, screamed.
Mentors didn't move.
— If you die, that's life, assholes. Aurora only keeps what deserves to stay...
It was the first time I understood. Here, even failure could mean death.
Meals were taken in the large refectory, but even there, equality did not exist. Tables were not randomly assigned. Families of high rank settled in the center, surrounded by guests, laughter, flattering echoes. Families of lower rank were pushed back to the extremities, as forced spectators.
I sat alone at the first meal. Conversations stopped around me. Looks shot through me like arrows. Some heirs exchanged smiles, others shook their heads.
Then a voice, behind me:
— You should get used to it. Here, your name is worth less than dust.
I turned around. He was a boy with sober features, silver hair, pinkish eyes like a magnificent sunset. No scorn in his tone, just a raw truth. He sat down not far from me, ignoring the whispers.
Another, further away, raised his glass while laughing. His voice echoed like a bell:
— A spectre at our table! Who let him in?
The laughter burst out. But some did not laugh. A girl with green eyes of pure beauty even looked away, as if embarrassed by the scene.
I did not respond. I bit into the hot bread and let their contempt burn my tongue. It was not the time to show fangs.
In the evening, we were free. Free in our too-large residences, in inner courtyards where the air itself vibrated. Some heirs trained among themselves, their auras tearing through the gardens like miniature storms. Others were plotting, sitting in tight circles, speaking in a low voice, casting glances around them.
Me, I was walking. Every step in Aurora was a discovery. The Hall of Echoes, where the walls vibrated with the resonance of the students. The Library, where luminescent crystals whispered fragments of forbidden stories. The Tower of Stars, whose summit sank into the night sky, always surrounded by heirs in meditation.
Every place reminded me of the same thing: I hadn't grown up in their world. I was an intruder.
And yet, deep down, a certainty grew.
If this world had decided to break me, then I would find a way to annihilate it.
The night fell on Aurora like a dark velvet cloak. The hanging gardens lit up with crystalline torches, and the towers cast their light into the sky like columns of gold. But despite the unreal beauty of the city, silence weighed.
I was alone in my room. A room too big for me. The marble walls reflected my silhouette, multiplied to infinity, and each reflection reminded me that I was not in my place.
I let myself fall onto the huge bed, draped in silk. The comfort was almost insulting. My body, still sore from the training sessions, wanted to abandon itself. But my mind... no.
I straightened up.
My Thorn vibrated. A dull throbbing in my chest. A red and gold pulse that hit against my bones. Since the fight against the Dragon, she had never stopped calling me. Like a mute voice whispering: try.
I stood up, barefoot on the cold marble. I positioned myself in the center of the room, facing the large windows overlooking the city.
I closed my eyes. Inspirai.
I extended my hand.
A crunch echoed.
The air split in front of me, like a window broken by an invisible force. A dark red fissure opened, spitting golden and bloody shards. I felt the heat, the flames licked my palm.
A blade leapt out of it.
Brute. Vibrant. My arm trembled under the weight of its existence.
I brandish it for a moment, but immediately it dissipated into a cloud of ash.
I clench my teeth.
Again.
I opened a new fracture. Another blade appeared, more stable. I made it spin clumsily, then it died out in turn. My breath got short, my muscles burned, but I started again. Again. Again. I was like a child learning to walk.
Each summoning emptied me. It meant that my energy was not unlimited. Every failure left me on my knees. But with each attempt, the Thorn responded faster. As if she remembered.
Then, at one point, I felt something else.
My feet left the ground.
At first barely. One centimeter. Then two.
I was floating. Wavering, as if suspended by an invisible will, mine. My arms fluttered, I almost tipped back. The void under my feet was tiny, ridiculous. But for me... it was a chasm.
I touched the ground with an awkward leap. My heart was beating wildly.
I breathed, a bitter smile on my lips.
— Haha... then it was true.
The theft.
Not yet mastered. But real.
I continued for hours. The blades were born and died around me. Sometimes, I managed to make two appear at once, like two fangs ready to devour the world. Sometimes, I managed to float for a few more seconds.
But always, fatigue ended up breaking me. The sweat dipped my tunic, my muscles trembled as if they were going to tear.
When I finally collapsed on the bed, I was just a heap of burning and panting flesh.
I stared at the ceiling, my eyes red and gold reflecting the glow of the crystals.
Aurora wanted to break me.
But before this city swallows me down, I would tap it. Even if I had to bleed a thousand times to achieve that.
My Thorn vibrates one last time in my chest. A silent whisper.
You are not one of them. But you can surpass them.
I sank into sleep, my body broken, my mind on fire.