The evening after gravity training carried a strange stillness through the class but the academy still runs as normal. Most of Class 1N hadn't stopped buzzing about the drill, recounting how their bones ached under the crushing pull, or boasting about the fleeting moments when they managed to stand upright as though defying the heavens themselves.
Auren listened to none of it. He was still caught in the echo of that moment when his bloodlines scraped against each other, colliding like storm waves against jagged cliffs. It wasn't pain in the ordinary sense, it was worse. It was the feeling of being torn apart from the inside, of two halves refusing to belong to the same whole.
Eiran, for all his usual smugness, had looked just as drained. Still, unlike Auren, his results were oddly good, better than expected, in fact. He had no issue reminding Auren of this, multiple times.
"Not bad for a fox with a 'weak physique,'" Eiran said with a lazy smirk as they walked out of the hall room. His seven tails swayed behind him, each strand glowing faintly like an ember refusing to die. This clearly showed that even though he was too exhausted to make them singular again, he would not forget to gloat."S-level already. You should be jealous."
Auren rolled his eyes but didn't rise to the bait. He had too much rattling in his mind. [ I wonder how much training is required to merge the bloodlines fully. People with only one bloodline have it easy since they just need to upgrade it using Primis as the connector. I have to merge and then upgrade them.]
Auren sighed as he headed to the dorms,he was too busy lost in thought to think about dinner. Eiran just watched him walk away, his thoughts known only to himself. He decided to follow Auren budging into his personal space without a care.
"Eiran not today. I need to solve something." Auren said with a sigh hoping the fox would relent.
"That's why I'm here. Don't you want to know how I managed to get to S class considering my weak physique?" Eiran said as he sat at Auren's desk.
"Didn't you just rely on your bloodline?" Auren questioned as he sat on the bed.
"Yes and No. My bloodline is already high grade being royalty and all but using my Primis I tempered my body using my bloodline as the foundation."
Auren stared at Eiran for a while before relenting. "Fine."
That night, inside room 804, Auren sat cross-legged on the floor, attempting to meditate. Or rather, attempting to stay still.
"Sit still," Eiran hissed, glaring at him from across the room.
"I am sitting still," Auren replied, voice flat but body anything but. His knee bounced uncontrollably, his fingers drummed against his leg, and his eyes kept flicking toward the window as though there was something more interesting outside.
"You're twitching like fire ants are eating you alive. That's not meditation, that's torture to me." Eiran complained glaring at the unsettled wolf.
Auren gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tighter. [Focus. Just focus]. He wanted...no, needed to control his Primis enough to keep his bloodlines from clashing every time he pushed himself. Meditation was supposed to help. But he couldn't do it. His mind didn't slow down, it only accelerated, darting from one thought to another like lightning through storm clouds.
Eiran pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered under his breath. "This is impossible."
"You're supposed to teach me," Auren muttered back, not opening his eyes.
"I am teaching you. The problem is that you're a terrible student."
Minutes ticked by in silence, save for Auren's restless fidgeting. Finally, Eiran let out an exasperated groan and stood up. "Fine. Clearly meditation isn't for you. You're not the type to sit and breathe until enlightenment strikes. You're more… destructive."
Auren cracked one eye open. "That supposed to be a compliment?"
"Take it however you like." Eiran crossed his arms, tail flicking in thought. "If you can't sit still, then don't. Fight instead."
Auren blinked, unsure if he heard correctly. "Fight?"
"Yes," Eiran said matter-of-factly. "Fight training dummies, spar, whatever. You're only calm when you're in motion. So use that. Merge your bloodlines while you're moving, not sitting."
Auren tilted his head, then gave a sharp laugh. "You might actually be right for once."
"I'm always right," Eiran sniffed, though the smugness couldn't quite hide the glint of genuine concern in his eyes.
The two left the dorm and headed for the training hall. The night had settled, the twin moons shining bright over the academy. This time of the night is when, the students were asleep and security patrolled the school.
The training hall rang with the sound of fists colliding against wood and metal. Auren moved like a storm unleashed, his body straining under the invisible pressure of two clashing bloodlines. The dummies crumpled under his strikes, but his real battle wasn't with them. It was inside himself.
Each swing, each step, each strike, he forced his Fenrir and Dragon bloodlines closer. He was using his Primis like an iron chain wrapping the two unwilling bloodlines together. It wasn't smooth to say the least. It wasn't pretty also.
His body shuddered violently, his veins burned, his chest heaved as though fire and ice were clawing through him at once. Eiran had watched him cough up blood more than thrice within a single hour of training.
But he didn't stop.
And when he finally collapsed to one knee, sweat dripping down his face, the taste of iron filling his mouth, he felt it. The faintest click inside himself, like a lock shifting. Another percentage of the blood had merged.
It wasn't much. But it was something. Eiran smiled when Auren stopped and took a towel and some water to him. Auren was grateful that Eiran was with him and after relaxing and talking for a bit they both went to their respective dorm rooms to sleep.
The following morning at breakfast, Auren devoured his meal with a hunger that startled even him. Plates piled up before him, each emptied faster than the last. His body demanded fuel for the strain he'd put it through. It was also a result of merging his bloodlines more, his appetite increased with ferocious vigor.
Eiran, across the table, raised an eyebrow. "What are you, a black hole? Slow down before you eat the whole cafeteria."
"Shut up," Auren muttered between bites, but he didn't slow. It was then that shadows fell across their table. Two familiar voices broke the rhythm of dinner.
"Well, well," said one with a smooth, practiced tone. "Looks like we've intruded again."
Auren didn't even look up. He recognized them by voice alone. Katelyn of Bloom Dominion, with her delicate butterfly aura, and Aura of Flame Dominion, the owl-blooded one with sharp eyes. For a few days now they've been bothering Auren and Eiran at the table and they weren't alone this time.
Behind them stood two more students, boys draped in the insignia of Myrra Dominion nobles. Their postures screamed entitlement, their gazes dripping with the kind of arrogance only old bloodlines could breed.
Eiran's expression soured instantly. "Wonderful," he muttered, pushing his tray forward as though to distance himself.
The girls sat without asking, chatting lightly as if their presence was welcome. Auren continued eating, deliberately ignoring them. Eiran followed his example, though his disdain was less quiet, he didn't bother masking the irritation in his narrowed eyes and twitching ears.
It didn't take long for Aura to notice. She knew they were princes but this was too much humiliation for her to stomach.
"Is this how you treat nobility?" she demanded, her voice sharp as a talon. "We sat here out of courtesy. The least you could do is acknowledge us properly instead of acting like we don't exist."
The cafeteria went silent. Curious eyes turned toward their table. Auren finally lifted his gaze, slow and deliberate. His eyes were calm, too calm, and his voice was soft when he spoke.
"Are you worthy?"
Just three words.
But they struck harder than any roar or threat. Aura stiffened, her mouth opening only to close again. No one had ever asked her that, not out loud anyway and certainly not with such dismissive finality. The owl in her bristled, feathers ruffling under invisible wind, but her pride gave her no retort.
Katelyn glanced nervously between them, realizing that the tide of the cafeteria was shifting. The Myrra nobles muttered but didn't intervene. In the end, the group left, their exit quieter than their arrival.
But silence never lasts long.
Behind closed doors, whispers spread like wildfire. The girls feeling insulted and humiliated, let their tongues run unchecked. Twisted versions of the cafeteria scene grew with each retelling. By the time the rumors traveled beyond their immediate circles, they had become poisonous.
Hanul, who had nursed a festering grudge since his humiliations at Auren's hands, was the one to bite the bait. One rumor in particular, the kind that sullied his name, painting him as weak and cowardly, lit the spark in him. Pride was his lifeblood, and once it was wounded, reason no longer mattered.
He stormed toward his class with fire in his eyes, contract be damned, honor forgotten. He didn't care about the paper he had signed or the consequences it carried. He will seek out the duo that caused harm to his pride and eliminate them.
All he wanted was blood. And just like that, the academy, which had been calm, began to feel the tremor of a coming storm.
A storm born not of destiny or gods. But of one girl's spite.