A collective gasp filled the hall, a wave of sheer awe that left mouths agape and eyes wide as saucers. For the students, it was like witnessing death and heaven in the same moment—the terrifying power of the House Leaders followed by the serene, absolute authority of the two most revered figures in the Umbral Citadel.
"The Vice Leader and the Eternal Scribe… in one night?" thought the Headmaster, his palms tightening around the edge of his seat. "This may be luck… or an omen of the havoc to come."
With the languid grace of a predator, the Eternal Scribe, Azerion Vaelorn, walked over to where Ruth and Shuka still knelt, exhausted and essence-drained. He bent at the waist, his voice a whisper that carried the weight of glaciers and a tone sharper than frost
"I will never stand and watch this academy be destroyed by your petty squabbles," he murmured, the words for their ears alone. "And I will not let a student die this early. You are fortunate the Gravemont leader intervened. If not..."
He straightened, folding his arms as he returned to his seat.
Silence followed, heavy as iron.
The Vice Leader turned toward the students "That will be all for today. We've seen enough chaos for one night. Classes and assignments will be announced tomorrow."
As the students began to shuffle out in a daze, a new figure appeared. He was a slim young man clad in a pristine white robe, the hood drawn over his head and a black mask covering the lower half of his face, revealing only sharp, intelligent eyes. He moved with an ethereal silence, bowing briefly to the dignitaries before approaching the Vice Leader.
"If I may?"
"Be quick," replied the Vice Leader
The young healer strode to where Flint lay impaled by the chandelier's wreckage.
Kneeling, he pressed a gloved hand to the man's abdomen. A soft glow bloomed beneath his palm—the broken metal dissolving into particles of light, leaving only raw punctures in its place.
He summoned a small box with a flick of his wrist. Tools, potions, and runes floated around him in quiet harmony.
Flint's eyelids fluttered. His voice was hoarse but steady.
> "You could've done that in a blink. Why drag it out?"
The healer smiled faintly.
> "Have you forgotten? The students are watching. This is still the beginning. If I show them how easily we can mend death itself… well, you know how that ends."
Flint nodded, grimly understanding.
Moments later, the healer stood.
> "Done. Your body will handle the rest."
As he turned to leave, his masked gaze fell to the, head of House Virellen.
> "Need any potion? I know a few that could help."
A vein bulged on Ruth's forehead.
> "How dare you—"
But the healer simply waved his hand and vanished into thin air.
"I really need to learn that skill," Zerathos muttered under his breath.
Oscar and Vex tried—and failed—to hide their laughter.
Okay, everyone, I will take you to your dorms!" Instructor Shayla's voice cut through the murmurs as she positioned herself by the ruined double doors.
Outside, a long, floating train awaited, silver lights gliding along its edges.
> "Line up! Quickly!" she shouted.
Ten minutes later, the students were seated inside.
The interior resembled something out of an old wizard tale—wood-paneled corridors, private cubicles, and the hum of enchantment beneath their feet.
The noise was relentless—laughter, disbelief, and whispers filling every corner. Dissecting the night's earth-shattering events.
It's to be expected," Oscar said, leaning back in his plush seat. "What we witnessed today is something most people never see in their entire lives—and ours are not short lives
"True," added the boy with the transparent hat, who, for reasons unknown, had ended up in their compartment with three others. "Even the direct descendants and internal members are pumped up. That was legendary."
Remind me again why you're even with us?" Zerathos asked, eyeing the newcomers.
The boy shrugged.
> "You think you're the only ones allowed to enjoy a Keeper's knowledge?"
Anyway," a girl with long brown hair interjected. "Who was that last guy who healed Head Instructor Flint?"
"Ah, that's the apprentice of the Divine Healer," Vex explained.
"Wait, really?" the transparent-hat boy exclaimed. "I thought the Divine Healer answered to nobody."
"Not entirely true," Vex explained. "He answers to the King—sometimes. There are only a few beings whose power sits beyond royal command.
1. The Eternal Scribe.
2. The Divine Healer.
These two are old… ancient. And while Keepers aren't known for battle strength, never forget—warring with a Healer is never a fair fight."
Everyone nodded slowly.
Zerathos exhaled.
> "Makes sense. No one sides with someone trying to kill a life-saver."
"Oh, and sorry about what happened earlier with Hans Vareth," Vex added quietly.
Zerathos didn't reply, his fingers unconsciously tracing his cheek, the ghost of the fireball's heat still lingering on his skin, a stark reminder of his brush with death.
" So, what's next after this?" Oscar asked, changing the subject.
"Well, they'll take us to our dorms. Boys and girls have separate buildings," Vex explained.
Immediately, a boy in their group muttered, "Dammit," drawing everyone's eyes.
"What?! It's not what you think! I have a sister!" he protested, waving his hands frantically under their collective judgmental stare.
"*Anyway*," Vex continued, rolling his eyes. "With how the night went, they won't have time to assign us rooms. We'll likely get to choose who we stay with, which brings up the next question: we know nothing about each other."
Oscar sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
> "Fine. I'll go first. I'm from a sub-house under Vareth—the Thunder Clad Clan."
He raised his palm, sparks of lightning crackling around his fingertips.
Vex chuckled.
> "Funny. These clans used to be Houses of their own, now tucked under one banner. Even the Thunder Clad could hold a region on its own."
"What about the rest of you? We can't keep calling you 'the boy with the transparent hat.'"
"Ah, yes. My name's Chris, House Eclipsera. I'm among the fifty picks, not a direct descendant, though."
A tall, muscular boy with a long sword strapped to his back spoke next. "I'm Malen. Same as Chris. Though my family used to be part of a sub-house of House Mirevale. We were annihilated during the last war, but we're rebuilding."
Then came the girl—long brown hair brushing her shoulders, twin daggers—one red, one black—strapped to her hips.she spoke softly. "My name is Jane. I'm part of House Mirevale, sub-house: the Clan of Death & Time Curses. Our affinity is Decay Manipulation."
Oscar, sitting beside her, promptly moved to the opposite seat.
Chris laughed quietly.
> "Relax. Her power doesn't work that way—and she's stable."
Oscar looked away, embarrassed.
> "Still… beauty with a curse like that? Dangerous combo."
The last to speak was a boy with a scar running down his right cheek.
> "Marik. Outcast. Clan of Eclipsera. Internal descendant."
Vex folded his arms, summarizing:
> "So…
1. A Keeper.
2. Thunder Clad (Vareth).
3. Mirevale – Death & Time Curses.
4. A rebuilding clan of Mirevale.
5. Eclipsera internal.
6. An outcast.
7. And… a commoner
"Oh, you mean the kid who got burnt," Marik said with a raised brow, nudging Zerathos roughly with his shoulder
"You've made a name for yourself, boy," Miles commented.
"Yeah," Jane added. "And I'm sure that will be the second most talked-about event today."
As if on cue, the topic of the "commoner who almost died twice" was being debated in every cubicle on the train.
The Dorms
Thirty minutes later, Shayla's voice echoed through the corridor.
> "Alright, everyone—we've arrived! Boys' dorm to the left, girls' to the right. Each dorm holds over a thousand. Up to twelve per room. Good night!"
She tapped her wristwatch. A hover-bike appeared, and she rode off without another word.
> "Wait—she's just leaving? No monitoring?" someone asked.
" Yeah , Just like that?" a student blurted out. "She's not going to monitor us? You know, in case..." His implication was clear.
"Forget it, dude," another replied. "There's a mechanical gender barrier. Once you cross the line, you're trapped on the spot. Imagine going over at night and being stuck there till morning."
The interior of the boys' dorm was even more impressive than the outside. The first thing that greeted them was a vast courtyard the size of six football pitches.
"This won't be enough," Marik muttered, surveying the crowd of over four hundred boys.
"Yeah, half of 850 is 425," Miles added, ever the pragmatist.
The courtyard was encircled by a single, continuous building with six identical sections, each boasting its own elevator and staircase.
"So, which section do we go through?" Jane asked, having followed the group.
Oscar shrugged.
> "Any. They all lead to the same upper floors—it's just a shortcut. Let's let our rekindled pick choose."
He nodded toward Zerathos.
Zerathos chuckled softly.
> "Section Four."
Marik grinned, bumping his shoulder as he passed.
> "Better be favorable, Athos."
Zerathos almost tripped but caught himself. Chris laughed.
> "Watch your step, Athos."
The nickname stuck.
When their turn came, they entered the elevator, hearts still buzzing with the day's chaos.
When the door to their assigned suite hissed open, they were met with a sight that surpassed all expectations. It was a huge, multifunctional space. One area was a traditional living room with deep cushions and low tables; another featured combat dummies and training mats. At the far end was a raised platform with a circle of eleven chairs and a single, more ornate master chair facing a large viewscreen and a tactical board. It was a blend of ancient aesthetics and cutting-edge technology.
"Waw," Malen breathed. "This room is big enough for more than twelve people."
"Well, I'm off to sleep," Vex announced, a weary note in his voice. "I have a bad feeling about how that instructor left. With no prior information and this much freedom... there's going to be hell tomorrow."
Meanwhile, hours earlier, the moment the students had vacated the hall:
A thick, oppressive silence had descended.
"All Elders, Council members, and Shadow Council, you may leave," the Vice Leader had stated, his tone brooking no argument.
The silence stretched.
The Vice Leader turned, a prominent vein throbbing on his temple as he fixed his gaze on the House Leaders.
"Calm down. You may be the Vice Leader, but you are in no position to order us around," Lucien Mirevale cut in, preparing to stride out.
"And who told you to leave?"
The voice of the Eternal Scribe was soft, yet it froze everyone in their tracks. He didn't even look up from contemplatively studying his hand. With a mere flick of his wrist, the massive, ruined double doors slammed shut with a force that shook the very foundations of the hall.
**BOOM.**
Lucien spun around, his essence flaring to life in a corona of violent energy. "What is the meaning of this?!"
The atmosphere in the hall became thick enough to choke on. The remaining dignitaries held their breath. The fight between the House Leaders and the elders was one thing, but now, with the Vice Leader and the Eternal Scribe personally involved, the stakes had been raised to a terrifying new height. A battle between true titans seemed not just possible, but inevitable.