The uproar began the instant Elyndra touched the arena floor.
A princess kneeling beside a nameless boy was scandal enough.
But the sight of Aureon—towering, ancient, and bowed behind them—froze the entire hall in breathless disbelief.
Students leaned over the railings, instructors whispered urgently among themselves, and half the academy looked ready to faint. Elyndra slowly released the boy's hands, rising with quiet grace as she pulled back her hood. Silver hair spilled across her shoulders.
Gasps erupted everywhere.
"It's the princess—"
"What is she doing—?"
"She actually jumped—!"
Corvos slammed his staff into the ground. Runes flared, and the noise died instantly.
The princess turned back to the boy—still kneeling, still struggling to breathe. Her voice softened. "Are you alright?"
He nodded unsteadily. "Because of you… yes."
That simple answer struck her far deeper than she let show.
The doors burst open.
Royal sentinels marched in, armor gleaming like sculpted sunlight, their formation parting as the King himself strode into the hall. High King Vael Erindale III moved with the authority of a man carved from granite, his presence heavier than the Titan still forming behind the boy.
His eyes fixed immediately on his daughter.
"Elyndra," he said, voice cold enough to freeze fire, "explain yourself."
Her spine stiffened, but she didn't step back. "He was losing control. I intervened."
"You interfered," the King corrected. "Recklessly. Without command. Without guards. Without thought."
"I saved him," she answered.
"You risked your life."
"It was my decision."
"And a foolish one."
The boy pushed himself to his feet, wobbling but refusing to fall. "She wasn't foolish," he said quietly. "I… I needed help."
A wave of shocked murmurs rolled through the hall. The King turned his gaze on the boy—sharp, cutting, assessing, as though dissecting every secret hidden within him.
"You," the King said. "The anomaly from Starhold."
"I'm not an anomaly," the boy whispered. "I'm… me."
"And who is 'me'?" the King asked.
The boy opened his mouth, but no name came. Nothing. Only the echo of pain and memories he couldn't grasp.
Corvos stepped forward. "He remembers nothing, Your Majesty. We have not assigned him a designation."
A long, tense moment passed as the King studied him. Then he spoke:
"Until your true identity is discovered, you will be given a provisional name. From this day forth, you are Ash."
The boy blinked.
Ash.
He repeated it silently.
A small, warm ember of identity in an otherwise empty space.
Aureon's plates glowed faintly—approval, perhaps.
Before anyone could process the moment, the King gestured sharply.
"Elyndra. With me."
The sentinels closed around him. Elyndra shot one last glance at Ash—brief, warm, and filled with an emotion she wasn't supposed to feel—before turning to follow her father.
The arena doors shut behind them with a heavy boom.
Silence lingered. Students stared at Ash as though he were a weapon waiting to explode. Aureon's towering form slowly dissolved into shimmering dust, returning to whatever realm Titans rested in.
Corvos approached the boy.
"This could have gone better," the Headmaster muttered.
"I'm sorry," Ash murmured.
"Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong." Corvos sighed. "It's the world that doesn't yet know what to do with you."
Ash lowered his eyes. "Will… she be punished because of me?"
Corvos paused, studying him with an unreadable expression. "You care for her."
Ash hesitated—but nodded.
"That," the Headmaster said softly, "is dangerous. But very human."
He handed Ash a neatly folded navy uniform. The academy crest shimmered faintly on the fabric.
"Your official uniform. Orientation begins tomorrow. Rest tonight."
Ash accepted it carefully, almost reverently. A uniform meant belonging. A name meant identity. And yet… his thoughts drifted upward, toward the Tower of Glass where Elyndra had been taken.
Far above the academy, the princess stood before her father in a chamber lined with enchanted crystal. The King's face was a mixture of anger, fear, and something weary beneath both.
"You disobeyed me," he said quietly.
"You never told me to stay away from him," she answered.
"I shouldn't have to."
She met his stare with a bravery that bordered on stubbornness. "He needed help. I helped him."
"You endangered yourself. You exposed your identity. And worst of all—you revealed your interest."
Her heartbeat stumbled. "Interest?"
"Do not lie to me," the King said, voice cracking like thunder. "Does the boy matter to you?"
The words pressed against her chest like iron. She could have lied. Should have lied.
But the truth slipped out anyway.
"Yes."
The King closed his eyes, pained. "Elyndra… this boy is tied to a Titan-King. Kingdoms will hunt him. Empires will want him dead or enslaved. And they will use you to get to him."
"I don't care."
"You must care. You are heir to this kingdom."
"And maybe," Elyndra whispered, "he is too."
The King froze, breath catching—not in anger, but in realization.
Back in the academy dormitory, Ash sat on his bed, turning his new uniform over in his hands. The room was small, simple, and quiet. But for the first time since he'd awakened in the ruins, he felt a thin thread of belonging tying him to the world.
Aureon's presence pulsed faintly in his mind—calm, ancient, patient.
Ash curled his fingers into the fabric of the uniform.
Tomorrow, he began training.
Tomorrow, he would face rivals, doubts, and the weight of a destiny he didn't yet understand.
But tonight, one thought filled his chest with warmth:
A princess had risked everything for him.
And he would not let that be in vain.
He lay back slowly, eyes drifting shut.
A Titan-bearer was rising.
And the world—whether it wished to or not—would soon feel the consequences.