As dawn broke over the academy grounds, the sky blazed a rich crimson, streaked with golden light that spilled down over the countless youth assembled before the massive gate, Nim and his crew met up with the rest of leylie's friends. They were all excited and dressed in their best outfits. Nim felt his dressing wasn't too shabby but he knew it wasn't on par with must of what the others wore. There was over six thousand youths, one thousand or more from each of the four kingdoms—Sun, Moon, Zar, and Dark—stood, cloaked in anxious silence. They waited to begin their journey at the legendary Academy of the Gifted and Knacked.
Nimrod and his companions found themselves amidst a crowd of fellow Sun Kingdom youths, their hearts alight with excitement and nervous energy. Leylie, Darel, Saron, and Mikel were there beside him, shifting restlessly as they took in the grand assembly around them. Cara, standing closest to Nimrod, cast an impressed look toward the academy gates, while Nim's own gaze flicked from kingdom to kingdom, noting the differences in each crowd, he also noticed that most of the people from sun kingdom wore clothes with a sun insigia woven on it.
The Moon Kingdom contingent stood to the west, a sea of pale faces and silvered cloaks that billowed like ghosts in the dim dawn light, Nim already knew it was probably something they decided on befire coming gere, he had ovweheard cara saying that they dressed differently because they disdane being mistaken for someone of another kindom same reason for the insignia on the clothes worn by people from the sun kingdom.. To the north, those from the Dark Kingdom wore robes as black as shadow, their expressions hidden beneath dark hoods that barely revealed their faces. To the south, the Zar Kingdom's crowd was distinct—youths bearing thin blades and twin daggers strapped to their belts, their eyes sharp and wary, as though they expected danger to erupt at any moment. This kingdom, he knew, was famed for producing assassins, and Nimrod felt a strange pull toward the group, his instincts recognizing kindred spirits in their silent, deadly composure.
The silence was broken as a figure emerged from the Zar ranks, a prince bearing the unmistakable aura of royalty. His gait was purposeful, his eyes cold as a winter's night, and his presence caused a murmur to ripple through the Zar youth he was after all the heir to the throne. The same happened with the Moon Kingdom, where a tall, elegant princess strode forward, acknowledged by her peers with respectful nods, though none dared approach her too closely. The Dark Kingdom's heir was similarly formidable, casting a withering gaze at the crowd as though already preparing to prove his superiority.
Then, from the heart of the Sun Kingdom, a powerful cheer rose. Princess Khaline had arrived.
Nimrod turned just as Khaline stepped forth, radiant in robes woven with threads of sunlit gold, her aura almost overwhelming in its strength. She was beautiful, but there was something deeper in her, a core of fire that pulsed beneath her calm exterior. Her people saluted her in fervor, calling her name in a single unified chant that filled the air, and her cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and discomfort. Nimrod's companions—Liran, Mikel, Saron, and Darel—joined the chant, their voices echoing the Sun Kingdom's spirit, while Nim stood transfixed, his heart unexpectedly unsteady at the sight of her.
As their gazes met across the crowd, a strange tremor passed between them. Khaline hesitated, her eyes widening, as though she too had felt that invisible thread. She blinked, then turned away, visibly shaken, and Nim felt the moment slip away, though the memory of it lingered in his chest like a distant echo.
Around him, Sun Kingdom youths swarmed toward Khaline, eager to stand beside their princess. The other kingdoms mirrored the pattern, each gathering around their own heirs. Only five figures, hooded and silent, remained apart—the emissaries from the Kingdom of Seers, each wearing a mask that concealed the lower half of their face. When Nim's curiosity got the best of him, Cara leaned in and whispered, "Those masks keep them from saying all they see. It's... dangerous knowledge. Besides, the Seers are our kingdom's oldest enemies." She bit her lip, as if realizing her ignorance. "No one remembers why, but everyone says it's best to keep far away from them."
Before he could question her further, a powerful, echoing voice boomed over the courtyard, making every head turn.
"Welcome to the Academy of the Gifted and Knacked!"
The voice, deep and commanding, seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere, filling every corner of the vast courtyard. Nimrod glanced around, searching for its source, but none could pinpoint it.
"Once you step through these gates, there is no prince or princess, no heir or commoner. All who enter this academy are equal."
As the words settled over them, the ground shuddered, and the enormous gates slowly began to swing open, revealing the academy grounds beyond. Nimrod stepped forward, his heart racing as he took his first glimpse of the legendary world that lay within.
It was like entering another realm. The courtyard stretched endlessly, vibrant with students moving effortlessly through displays of magic and knacks that Nimrod had only heard about in tales. Guards hovered above them, suspended by spells that allowed them to glide through the air. A pair of youths across the grounds flickered in and out of existence, practicing the knack of invisibility. Nearby, another group performed an exercise where their bodies merged into a single entity, only to split apart moments later.
"Those students are part of the academy's retained students," Liran whispered. "They're the older youths who graduated just over a year ago, as you already know entrance to the academy is once every four years, inline with when those born on the year of the gifted would be sixteen. They stay in the academy for three years after which they can join the military or be retained to work for the academy"
Nimrod's eyes widened. "They stay here for three years?"
Leylie nodded. "That's why having enough gold is very importan. We're going to be here a while."
Just then, a figure strode forward, calling for attention in a voice that cut through the crowd's awe-stricken murmurs. He was an older youth, appearing to be in his late teens, with a rugged, battle-worn look. His hair was unkempt, and he held himself with the confidence of one who lived for combat. His voice was a challenge.
"You're welcome to the academy, but you're also welcome to hell."
A ripple of laughter spread through the crowd, but the youth's hard stare silenced it just as quickly. He stood like a statue, his muscles taut beneath his tunic, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous glint. Nimrod could see it instantly—this was someone who relished a fight, and the academy had only sharpened his instincts.
"For the next few days," the youth continued, his tone merciless, "you are mine to abuse. And yes, I mean *abuse.*" His words struck like blows, and a chill passed through the crowd. Even the princes and princesses remained silent, caught in the force of his gaze. "Three days from now, you'll face the Awakening Ceremony before your parents and general audience. And until then, you're all trespassers here—unproven and unworthy."
Beside him, Mikel muttered under his breath, "Here it comes…"
Nimrod turned to him, puzzled, but Mikel merely gestured for him to watch.
Suddenly, a shroud of darkness descended over them. One second, the morning light shone brightly, and the next, they were swallowed in pitch-black. Nimrod's instincts kicked in, honed from his years as an assassin. He grasped Cara's arm, pulling her close before she could cry out.
"It's me, Nimrod," he whispered. "Stay quiet."
Chaos erupted. Shouts and cries rang out as the crowd floundered in the darkness, students colliding and thrashing in confusion. Just then, an attack shot toward Nimrod, swift and unexpected. His body reacted, parrying it with fluid precision before easing Cara back to his side.
Together, they edged forward, weaving through the tangled mess of bodies and cries. But then Nimrod sensed another presence nearby—a blade, flashing toward him. He deflected it without thought, his movements automatic, honed by years of evading death.
Within minutes, they had broken free of the darkness, emerging into the early morning sunlight. Cara gasped as the light bathed her face, heart still pounding. She looked around, eyes wide with disbelief. "We… made it out."
Nimrod scanned the scene. They weren't alone. The heirs of each kingdom—Zar's princes, Moon's princess, and Dark's heir—had also managed to escape. Even the Seers had emerged, their masked faces unreadable. Around them, the princes and princesses exchanged glances, sparing Nimrod a nod of acknowledgment. Nim met their gaze briefly, then turned his attention back to the darkness.
A moment later, the shroud lifted as suddenly as it had come, revealing a courtyard littered with fallen youths. The ground was strewn with groaning students nursing bruises, scratches, and cuts. Princess Khaline, too, lay among them, a bewildered expression on her face. She hadn't managed to escape the trap.
From the Moon Kingdom's group, one of the princes scoffed audibly, sneering as he glanced her way. "Trash."
The insult echoed through the courtyard, and heads turned to take in the few who had escaped unharmed. Thousands of eyes stared in shock at those who stood apart from the fallen crowd, and Khaline flushed with embarrassment, realizing that only two others from her kingdom had made it out unscathed.
The older youth reappeared, a grin on his face. "Interesting. One of you actually managed to push me back,"
The older youth's eyes glinted as he looked over the small group who had emerged unscathed. His attention lingered briefly on Nimrod, and for a heartbeat, Nimrod sensed a glimmer of respect, though it was veiled behind the youth's hardened expression.
"Not bad," the youth continued, letting his words fall heavy on the silent courtyard. "The ones who made it out… you're exempt from the farm duty." His mouth twisted into a half-smile, barely masking his own disdain. "The rest of you, you'd better drag your sorry selves to the fields and start working. Consider it a warm-up" he paused and laughed at them, "well, forget it, I suppose you can still be forgiven for being worthless".
His gaze swept over them with an intensity that made even the Zar princes straighten. " The Academy grants you a bit of comfort even when you are undeserving, but the outsode world will be your death in you get too comfortable." He let the words sink in, then added with a dangerous glint in his eye, "i would advise you to sleep with one eye open. You will be walking the edge between life and death till you graduate from this academy. Right now, only those who escaped my attack can truly be called students of the academy. The rest of you will wait until the Awakening Ceremony. Perhaps you'll earn the title then."
The youths in the field shifted, a mixture of shame and resentment evident on their faces. But they dared not protest.
Mikel gave a low whistle, leaning toward Nimrod. "Looks like we got lucky"
Nimrod shot him a look, still on edge. He'd navigated shadows before, but this was different—a concoction of chaos designed to test their instincts in a raw, unrefined way. And the academy was just beginning its trials.
You shall now follow me to your dorm as he spoke five more older youths flew over three females and two males. Nim mavelled at the sight of it. They flew with not spell anchoring their weight, is this knacks ?? He wondered.
"My colleagues would lead you to your individual dorm, the female wing is to the left and the male to the right" they started shuffling to the directions pointed towards by the youth but he stopped them with a waved hand. "One more thing, the next time you appear before me you did better be dressed in a regular martial cloth make sure your clothes have not insignia on it" . After saying this, he vanished in a puff of blackness. Nim raised an eyebrow, this looks like the spell his used when he was a wraith but there was no talisman involved this time around. It seemed that unlike him who used talismans, the older youth could simply vanish. He wondered which came first, the knack or the talisman.
They soon filed Into two group, the girls followed the three female older youths and the boys followed the two males. They didn't say anything, just stared and walked towards the dormitory.
They followed them as they led the large group of 'students' up the stairs toward the academy's main building. Sunlight spilled down over the grand structure, highlighting intricate carvings and towering statues of mythical heroes and legendary beasts. The academy loomed ahead, more imposing and strange with each step they took.
As they reached the massive front doors, Nimrod glanced back he could see the girls group at the other end, he could make out Cara figure in the sea of girls, she was chatting away with two girls that seemed to be the princess' friends. But even as he looked away, Nim felt the lingering weight of eyes on him. Princess Khaline was dusting herself off with a defiant look in her eye, her gaze locked on him. There was no anger, only a deep, silent curiosity. And standing there, amidst a sea of people, Nimrod felt something shift between them—an understanding, perhaps, or a challenge. He didn't know which, but he knew their paths were destined to cross again.
Inside, the dormitory wing was vast, with vaulted ceilings and echoing corridors lined with doors to rooms and a massive martial practice hall. Laylie, visibly thrilled by the grandeur, nudged Nim as they walked. "They say every corner of this place is steeped in magic," he murmured, awe in his voice. "Who knows what we'll find here?"
Nim could only nod, distracted by the weight of his own thoughts. Everything he had learned before coming here seemed pale in comparison to the possibilities that lay within these walls.
The two older youths paused and turned to them, chose from any of the room, you can only be two in a room. After saying that, they turned and left.
The youths ran to select rooms they thought would be best, others like Nimrod chose to continue walking down, there seemed to be rooms stretching down the hall. He turned to leylie but he was already gone. Nim smiled and felt it was also normal. He finally found an empty room very far from the entrance and entered. He was surprised to see his luggage in the room and immediately knew it must be the work of someone with the gift of premonition. Luckily enough, there was no other bag or luggage in the room.
Having finally settled in, Nimrod felt the tension in his muscles begin to ease. It had been a day of intensity, and yet, he couldn't fully relax. The academy held a gravity, a pull, as if it were drawing out the buried parts of himself, forcing him to confront them.
He could hear voices from the room close to his, he could have sworn it belongs to leylie and Mikel.
Nim listened, silent, as the words of the academy's unknown speaker replayed in his mind: Once you step through these gates, there is no prince or princess, no heir or commoner. All who enter this academy are equal.
He felt the truth of it keenly. Whatever awaited him, he was no longer simply a fugitive. Here, he was—a student.