Zeteria, Twelfth Domain.

Asmor, capital of the Twelve Domains.

"Lara! Lara! Get up, you're going to be late!" A voice shouted from below.

In her room upstairs, Lara opened her eyes with difficulty. The fog in her mind gradually dissipated, until she remembered… Today was her final exam!

She jumped up and shivered in the fresh air before running down the stairs. Her father was waiting for her, smiling.

"I already made your breakfast. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, I think so. I just had a weird dream ... I'll tell you about it tonight."

She grabbed a green apple and took a bite of it while her father was putting scrambled eggs on a slice of toasted bread. It was one of her favorite meals.

"Thank you," she said with a sincere smile when he handed him the food. 

"Eat up."

Lask prepared a sandwich for himself. He was happy to eat with his daughter. He would open his shop later… too bad for the customers. He didn't want to miss this opportunity to spend time with his child.  After all, twelve days of festivities started today. No one would be in a hurry to buy clothes. Most people already purchased their attire for the celebration a while ago. The whole city was decorated with the colors of the twelve domains of the Republic, though the blue of Zeteria predominated. Lask wondered why they hadn't cancelled the Asmor Academy exams.

"Aren't you sad having to go to school today?" He asked.

"No," she replied, drinking some water. "You know I don't like to be around big crowds. I'm happy to be busy the first days of the festivities; everyone will flood the streets to try to see the Kaisers or Consul Lisandro.

"You don't seem to like them much," Lask observed.

Lara scowled and crossed her arms.

"They run the Republic, but I doubt they are aware of the needs of their people."

"How do you figure that?"

"How can they sit in the Parliament every day and also know what is going on within their domain?"

"You should know it better than I do," her father retorted with a smile. "You're the one studying these things."

She sighed.

"The twelve Diwams rule each a Domain, and they appoint a Kaiser who represents them in the Parliament," she recited.

"It may not be the best system, but it works well. We have traveled a lot; haven't you learned from those experiences?"

Lara raised her brows.

"Learning? I learned all right. Making a fire without a lighter, eating wild animals, sleeping on the ground… I'm sure none of the other students have experienced these."

"Lara …" her father said, a sad look on his face.

"I know. It was for my own good," she added in a softer tone. "Alright, I better get ready, or I'm really going to be late."

She disappeared on the stairs and didn't hear Lask's sigh. His gaze found the portrait of a young woman, hanging on the wall. Her blue hair curled up on her shoulders; her golden gaze was gentle.

"I'm doing my best, but…" Lask softly said. "She inherited your personality."

OoOoOo

Lara settled in front of her mirror. She should have woken up earlier. She must hurry now to avoid being late.

Facing the mirror, she checked that her hair was impeccable. As a precaution, she dyed them black every other day. It was out of the question that a dark blue strand showed.

She opened a small container and began to methodically cover her face with powder. Without makeup, her skin was a slightly pearly pale blue. It would be too easily identifiable for those looking for her. Even though they hadn't encountered imperial soldiers for many months, his father was still cautious. As long as she can remember, she has always hidden her skin color.  Her father took care of it when she was a child.

She did not forget her neck and ended with her hands and wrists. She examined herself in the mirror to make sure she didn't miss a spot. Perfect, she was pleased with the result.

She enjoyed winter. Her long sleeves and large coats concealed most of her body.

She looked in the mirror again and put a touch of red on her lips. She didn't like this appearance, but she had no choice. However, Lara could do nothing about her eyes. She stared at her golden irises for a moment. She inherited them from her mother, like the rest of her appearance. Her father rarely mentioned her. Despite the years, she guessed he must still suffer from her passing. Lara wanted so much to know more about her. Would her life be the same with her mother by their side?

Her father feared more than anything that imperial soldiers would find her, as they had found her mother shortly after Lara's birth. She understood his apprehension; however, she felt like she was in a cage. Sometimes, she would have liked to live a normal life and have dreams.

It's been almost three years since they came to Asmor. They had never stayed in one location for so long. Maybe she was safe here. Most of the time, they only stayed a few months in the same place before leaving for another. The Twelve Domains of the Republic, she had visited them all when most of the citizens rarely left their domain.

She learned about art among the Odirians, the people with the strange purple skin of the Eighth Domain. They were refined beings with an innate sense of aesthetics. She had played with the centaurs of the Fourth Domain, Jaborith, in the heart of their immense land. She's seen the herds galloping countless times. Lara and Lask even ventured into Phemacia, the Ninth Domain, a land of mountains with snowy peaks, and steep paths, which harbored winged men. A race she found intriguing, with a sense of honor developed to the extreme. A Phemacian could not tell a lie. The legend said it was the burden they had to carry to get their wings from Elhain.

Lara put on black pants and a gray turtle neck sweater. The color blue had long since disappeared from her wardrobe. Her father refused to let her wear it, though they lived in Zeteria, the domain whose symbol was a blue arrow. It was also the land she was born in.

Lara quit daydreaming and grabbed her backpack. It was time to go. She went downstairs and glanced at the large clock in the living room. If she quickened her pace, she would be just on time.

She wrapped herself in her stuffed cape and came to kiss her father who was cleaning the kitchen.

"See you later, kiddo. And be careful."

"As always," she took the time to respond before slamming the door behind her.

Lask sighed. He would not be reassured until her return. In the meantime, he should go open the store.

OoOoOo

Phemacia, Ninth Domain.

Mecens' School.

A young man rolled to the ground in the training room. Lying on the dusty sand which also covered his black uniform, he immediately tried to get up. But it was too late. His opponent's sword was already pointed at his throat.

"Give up, Aydan. A Gofer can never win against me."

The young man heard the arrogance in his tone as his maroon wings shifted slightly in response to his feeling of victory. On the Herald's gray uniform, two golden circles intertwined on the left side of his chest.

Aydan did not say a word. His cold blue eyes didn't leave his sparring partner. Had Abbas forgotten that he hadn't let go of his blade? The fight was far from over. Especially since Abbas believed to be the winner, he had relaxed a bit. His stance was a bit off. A simple detail Aydan was not going to overlook.

With a swift movement of his sword, Aydan pushed back the metal threatening him. His surprised opponent took several steps back.

"I'm a three-star Gofer," Aydan coldly said as he got up. " You may outrank me, but it doesn't mean your victory is set in stone."

The young man rushed in to attack. Abbas smiled slyly before fluttering his wings and dodging the blow. Aydan leaped to close the gap between them. The training room was too small for proper aerial combat. Neither of them would benefit from it.

In the current situation, the advantage would go to whoever occupies the center of the room. They could easily pressure the opponent then. Aydan maneuvered for this purpose. He ignored the grains of sand that rubbed against his skin with each movement. He dodged, parried, and attacked while watching for an opening. Sweat dripped on his back despite the coolness of the room.

Abbas gnashed his teeth, guessing Aydan's intention. The Herald increased the pace of his blows to send the Gofer back to the ground. Aydan took advantage of the frustration of his opponent whose defenses were no longer as impenetrable. The young man parried a blow and instantly threw in a counter. His sword nearly cut his adversary's stomach. 

The unsteady breathing of the two winged men echoed in the room. Wounded in his pride, Abbas demonstrated a rare aggressiveness in his attack. Aydan resisted the panic about to seize him as best he could. The vicious smile of the Herald was his only warning. Abbas's sword rushed to his face. Aydan's reflexes took over. He instantly reacted to parry. The next moment he realized it was a mistake when he felt a cut on his arm. The first attack was a feint.

Aydan resisted the temptation to touch his wound. He had to remain focused. Surprising Abbas would be the key to victory. He had to strike now. As long as he was confident in his ability, he believed he could win. The distance between them was ideal. Aydan dashed forward and hit Abbas head-on. The momentum threw them onto the white wall. The Herald's back bore the brunt of the impact. A bit woozy, Abbas slipped to the ground, and let go of his sword which Aydan carefully kicked away.

"Admit your defeat, Abbas. You are not winning today."

The door of the training room opened, and a man in a white uniform entered. A golden badge representing a diving bird, with its wings slightly spread, was pinned on the left side of his chest. 

"Aydan!"

Surprised, the young man stepped back and greeted the Harbinger with a fist on his heart. Abbas got up with difficulty and massaged his temples for a moment, before greeting the newcomer as well.

Their superior gave them a reprobating look.

"Duelling a Herald of the Second Circle? You are trying to move too fast, Gofer!"

"I accepted his challenge; I have my share of responsibility." Abbas intervened.

The man with the golden badge nodded.

"Accepting the errors in your way is the prerequisite for correcting them."

The Harbinger then turned his attention to Aydan, who remained impassive.

"Have you forgotten our meeting, Gofer?"

"I'm sorry, Harbinger. I didn't think the fight would last so long."

Herald Abbas immediately scowled.

"Watch your mouth," he whispered. "I won't be so lenient next time."

Before Aydan could answer, Abbas angrily left the room. The Harbinger sighed and looked at his disciple.

"You set the bar too high, Aydan."

"But I defeated him, didn't I?"

"I'm aware of your skills. But remember that Abbas has just failed to obtain the Third Circle, the Devotion. I don't want to see you take the same path."

"I hope to conquer all circles and then become a Harbinger."

"I hope so as well," Mahad said as he began walking. "You have the potential. As for Abbas ... he will need to reflect deeply on himself to continue on the path of the Mecens."

"Do you know him well?"

"He was once my disciple. His contempt for others prevents him from improving. He's overconfident. A trait, you share with him. You've been winning a lot lately. When was your last defeat?"

"A few weeks ago… The last time I met my father." Aydan reluctantly replied.

The Harbinger sighed.

"Winning is good, but remember that we learn most from our failures. Those may be my last words of guidance for you."

Mahad stopped walking. The gray stone walls of the School of Mecens were behind them. Though they usually flew over them, Mahad enjoyed walking a little with his Gofer. Altitude was incompatible with a somewhat serious discussion as the Harbinger liked to say.

"Let's discuss the reason for my presence here. You won your third and last Gofer's star last month. What you must learn next, you will find out for yourself."

Aydan felt his heart quickening. Did Mahad mean that…

"As your mentor, I authorize you to go search for a Familiar in the Deodara Forest.

With his finger, he pointed to the South and its mountains, sprinkled with snow on their highest peaks.

"Fly beyond the mountains to the Jurab Desert. Cross it on foot. Your quest is spiritual, and the three days of walking will allow you to prepare. The Deodara Forest is located in the center. If all goes well, you will find your Familiar there."

Aydan nodded. He was both impatient and anxious. Some Gofers never returned from the desert. The subject was rarely mentioned. To speak of such dishonor was taboo.

The Harbinger stared at him.

"Not all succeed. Do not disappoint those who have placed their hopes in you."

Without a word, Aydan saluted the Harbinger and flew away. The beating of his heart accelerated under the effect of the adrenaline which rose in his veins. A significant challenge awaited him. But if he returned… no, when he returned, he would finally be a Herald.

OoOoOo

Zeteria, Twelfth Domain.

City of Asmor.

Lara left the room and closed the door behind her before briefly closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. It was finally over. She made her presentation to a jury of her teachers, and she hoped to have done well.

She had spoken for thirty long minutes while wondering about the silhouette in the shadow at the back of the room. Her speech was then followed by another thirty minutes she had to face a deluge of difficult questions. Forced to concentrate, she had forgotten the intriguing presence. When she had thought about it again, it was no longer there.

Had she imagined it?

She let out a long sigh of relief and forced herself to smile. Her day was over, but the next exam was scheduled for tomorrow. She could afford to relax a bit before going back to study.

She left the building to head for the gardens of the Academy. With the winter that had fallen in the city, the place was deserted by the majority of students, which suited her perfectly.

Her breath condensed into light clouds in front of her face as she traversed the aisles. The air was both soft and frozen; the sky remained gray without being threatening. She deeply inhaled, filling her lungs with cold air, savoring the awakening of her senses. Laughter and loud voices told her she was not alone. A group of students were walking nonchalantly in her direction. Delphine and her group, Lara lamented. The two young girls disliked each other. It was hate at first sight. Lara couldn't explain why.

Delphine was the best student in their class. She always obtained the highest grade on each exam. Her blond hair framed a face with soft features, in which her eyes shone like sapphires. The beauty associated with intelligence. To top it off, she was part of the nobility. A Bourge, as they said. Without being part of Zeteria's Diwam close circle, her parents were wealthy enough to buy a position at the palace. They would never be appointed Kaiser, but the latter needed advisers to lead their Domain while representing it in the Parliament. They were positions of influence and honor where relationships played a fundamental role.

Delphine was gifted, yes, but Lara was disgusted to see her revel in her role. She was giving herself far too much importance, and Lara always believed it would come to bite her in the rear end at some point.

Lara sought to slip away. Even by turning back, she didn't have enough time to disappear before the group caught a glimpse of her. It was too late. They stopped a few meters from her, and Delphine commanded silence with an authoritarian gesture.

"Ah, look what we found. If it's not our dear Lara…"

"Hello, Delphine," she forced herself to answer.

"Still hanging out alone?"

A smile appeared on the delicate features of the young woman as Lara remained silent. She delicately replaced a blonde strand of hair behind her ear in a skillfully studied gesture.

"You aren't answering? You know Consul Lisandro will use the festivities to name the Scion, right?"

Lara couldn't help but wince. The Scion, a successor! The Consul needed one indeed. No one was eternal, and the Consul traditionally chose his successor during his or her twelfth year of reign. In the rare cases where the Consul did not live long enough to make his choice, it was the Parliament that selected a suitable candidate.

The current consul, Lisandro, was from the Eleventh Domain, Talyra, dedicated to the search and conservation of archives. To guarantee the stability and sustainability of the Republic, the Constitution guaranteed that each Consul choose the Scion in the next Domain. After the Eleventh, it would be someone from the twelfth Domain, Zeteria, who would be chosen to lead the Republic on the death of Lisandro. The whole Academy has been talking about it for many months now. The students believed it would be one of them who would be chosen.

Delphine sighed facing the silence of her classmate.

"What enthusiasm… I hope you will be more excited when I become the Scion."

"You seem very sure you will be chosen." Lara couldn't help herself.

"We'll see. I do not doubt that it'll be me, as always," Delphine replied. "Am I not the best student in the Academy? If you ask me nicely, maybe I'll get you a position at the Palace."

Lara struggled to remain silent. The exams were almost over. She only had to endure her classmates for a few more days. Once they graduated, she doubted she'd see them again. She knew she wouldn't keep in touch with any of her peers. Once she finished her studies, there was nothing else holding them in Asmor.  And Delphine would have a hard time finding her when she left. The thought brought a thin smile to her face.

Delphine narrowed her eyes at her rival's happy expression.

"Don't come crying later on. We will meet again, and believe me, you will regret it that day."

She turned away with a theatrical cape movement and her minions followed. Lara hardly refrained from smiling again. She was sure Delphine trained for a long time in front of a mirror to obtain such a dramatic effect with her cape.