The door clicked shut behind the last departing student.
Fifteen remained in a room built for a hundred. The room felt enormous—all that empty space between them like a reminder of how many hadn't made it.
Professor Kael stood at the base of the platform and let the silence settle before he spoke.
"Congratulations." He moved his gaze across each face. "Fifty students started here. You're what's left. That's not luck—you've proven yourself worthy." A small nod. "Be proud of that. But understand we have only just begun."
Maris stepped forward from the side of the room and pulled the cloth off the long cart beside her in one clean motion. Seventeen jackets, folded in neat rows.
"Please step forward."
They filed down from their seats and took their jackets one by one. The base was a deep matte black with cobalt blue trim running every seam. Three silver buttons down the front, each stamped with the Aegis insignia, and a diagonal shoulder stripe in white and blue that was clearly meant to be seen from across a room. The women's cuts were slim and slightly longer.
They were sharp. Landen ran his thumb along the trim before folding it back over his arm.
"Please sit with your respective team," Kael said.
The shuffle that followed was cautious. Students crossed the room with their jackets folded over their arms, glancing at one another, reading faces. Team B pulled together in the center section without anyone saying a word.
Joren Halo sat first—third place in the strength assessment, and it showed. He was tall and broad, built like someone who had been working hard since long before the academy was ever a thought. Short dark hair, a squared jaw carrying a day's worth of stubble, and gray eyes that watched more than they talked. He set his jacket down and settled into his seat without fidgeting.
Elara Vesperine dropped into the seat beside him and immediately flashed a wide smile across the room at Landen. He recognized her from the agility assessment. She still had her blonde hair in pigtails, and they bounced when she sat. Her second-place finish made a lot more sense once you'd seen her move—there was something about her easy, carefree energy that felt charming and quietly unsettling at the same time. Like she wasn't taking any of this seriously, and that was somehow the most dangerous thing about her.
Veya Rune arrived last. She paused just inside the row long enough to confirm she had the right team, then sat without a word. Landen recognized her too—the girl from the strength test. Second in precision, fifth in strength. She had close-cropped black hair, perfect posture, and dark eyes that catalogued everything around her with the same patience as a hunter. The calluses on her right hand told you what her scores confirmed: she had spent a long time behind a bow.
Then there was Ember Strife, who had already been sitting when the rest of them arrived. First place in the energy density assessment. Everybody knew who she was.
The four of them arranged themselves in a rough square while Landen settled into the seat furthest back.
"There are a few things I'd like to go over," Kael said, smiling.
"First—welcome to Team Halvek. I'm proud to say that my team has won the Freshman Tournament every year for the past four years I have been at this academy." He let that land for a moment. "Consider yourselves fortunate. But fortune only gets you to the door."
He clasped his hands behind his back and walked slowly along the front of the room.
"All freshman uniforms are black, but each homeroom carries its own color trim—a way to tell us apart. Ours is cobalt blue. I expect every one of you to represent Team Halvek with pride. You will learn to see each other as brothers and sisters, because for now, that is exactly what you are." His smile widened slightly. "Is that understood?"
"YES!"
Landen noticed it again. Kael's smiles never quite matched what he was saying—like two separate people were operating behind the same face.
"Please put on your jackets."
The room filled with the quiet sound of fabric settling into place. Then, from somewhere inside each right sleeve, a soft tone chimed once. A loose melody of chimes played out across the room as one by one the jackets closed, and something began to take shape on the back of each—slowly, like ink spreading through cloth. Stars.
"Your jacket reads the essence data stored in your wrist," Kael said, "and renders what we call your Essence Crest—displayed over the heart on the front, and across the back for others to see. Stars represent the first tiers of essence development."
Landen looked around. Ember's back displayed three and a half stars. Everyone else sat just above two. That put Ember at Elementary 3, and the rest of them at Elementary 2.
He looked down at his own chest.
Nothing.
He pulled the jacket off quickly and turned it over. On the back, where the stars should have been, there was only an empty outline—the faint ghost of a star that hadn't filled in.
"Professor?" His voice came out steadier than he felt. "I think something's wrong with my jacket."
Maris was already pulling up his information on her tablet. She scrolled once, then looked up.
"You're currently registered at Civilian Grade. That's zero stars."
Landen blinked. His system menu clearly showed Elementary Level 1.
"Your file reflects the last time your essence was formally measured," Maris said. "If you believe it's increased since then, you'll need to visit the assessment center to have it tested and updated."
He stared at the empty outline on his jacket a moment longer, then draped it back over his shoulders.
Kael clapped his hands together.
"Now on to the first Town Hall."
He lifted his own jacket from the table and settled it across his shoulders in a single, easy motion.
The room went quiet.
Five stars curved along the top of his back like a crown. Below them, one large sword ran straight down the center, then four smaller blades surrounded the sword. A river curled beneath it all, cradling the whole crest like water holding something it refused to let fall.
Nobody said anything for a moment.
Any doubt about the professor's strength left completely. Here they were sitting at two and three stars. While Professor Halvek wore five—and the shape of his crest made it clear that the stars were only part of the story. The distance between where they stood and where he stood wasn't measured in years. It was measured in something harder to name.
A few of them exchanged glances. Most just stared.
Then Maris's jacket caught up, and the room shifted again. Her crest was different. Five stars on her back as well, but only a single large sword down the center.
Kael stood at the door and glanced back. "Team Halvek! Move!"
— — —
They gathered in a small antechamber just off the main corridor. Through the wall, Landen could hear it—crowd noise, low and rolling, the kind that came from hundreds of people in a large space. Kael stood at the closed door, listening.
Then a voice boomed from the other side, deep and carrying.
"Please welcome the newest members of our prestigious academy—the Freshman class!"
"There's our cue," Kael said.
The doors opened. The auditorium unfolded in front of them—tiered seating packed with the entire student body, upperclassmen leaning forward in their rows, the noise crashing over them all at once. The room roared.
Landen walked out into it, jacket on, empty star at his back. With all of these warriors before him, he felt like an imposter.
Maybe he was. But the doors had already closed behind him.