The morning after the incident, the Academy was abuzz with rumors. Asterius had gone from being a nameless, faceless Dreg to the center of every conversation. The whispers followed him wherever he went, and students who once ignored him now glanced at him with a mixture of curiosity and fear. The sudden shift in attention was unnerving, but Asterius did his best to ignore it. He had more pressing concerns—he knew that what he had done wouldn't go unpunished.
As he made his way through the Academy's grand corridors, the unease in the air was palpable. The towering stone walls, adorned with ancient tapestries and glowing runes, seemed to close in around him. The shadows cast by the flickering torches stretched long and ominous, as if the very Academy was watching his every move.
Asterius could feel the weight of the gazes on him, but he kept his head down, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. He had no idea what was coming, but the God of Astral's presence in his mind was a comforting reminder that he was no longer alone. The power he had felt the previous day still lingered within him, a smoldering ember ready to ignite at a moment's notice.
As he approached the entrance to the Great Hall, the hub of the Academy where all major announcements were made, Asterius's heart began to race. The heavy wooden doors loomed before him, etched with intricate carvings depicting scenes of epic battles and legendary heroes. Normally, the sight of them filled him with a sense of awe, but today, they felt more like the gates to his doom.
With a deep breath, Asterius pushed the doors open and stepped inside. The Great Hall was as grand as ever, its high, vaulted ceiling supported by towering pillars of marble. Rows of long wooden tables stretched out before him, filled with students who were either eating their morning meal or discussing the latest news. The room was filled with the clatter of utensils and the murmur of voices, but all of that ceased the moment Asterius entered.
Every head turned in his direction, and the room fell silent. The sudden quiet was deafening, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. Asterius forced himself to keep walking, his footsteps echoing in the stillness as he made his way toward the front of the hall.
At the head of the room stood the Academy's Council—a group of the most powerful and respected instructors, tasked with maintaining order and overseeing the education of the students. They were a formidable presence, each one a master of their craft, and they were all watching Asterius with cold, unreadable expressions.
In the center of the Council was the head instructor, Master Verrian, a stern man with silver hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through Asterius. He was known for his fairness but also for his strict adherence to the rules. Asterius had always done his best to avoid drawing Verrian's attention, but now there was no escaping it.
"Step forward, Asterius," Master Verrian commanded, his voice ringing out through the hall.
Asterius's legs felt like lead as he obeyed, moving to stand before the Council. The silence in the room was oppressive, and he could feel the eyes of every student on him, waiting to see what would happen next.
Master Verrian's gaze bore into him, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension in the air was almost unbearable, and Asterius had to resist the urge to look away.
"You are aware of why you are here," Verrian finally said, his tone leaving no room for argument. It wasn't a question; it was a statement of fact.
"Yes, Master Verrian," Asterius replied, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him.
"What you did yesterday was a blatant violation of the Academy's code of conduct," Verrian continued, his voice growing colder. "You attacked fellow students, using a power that has not been sanctioned or recognized by this institution. Such behavior cannot be tolerated."
Asterius's heart sank. He had known this was coming, but hearing the words out loud still sent a wave of dread through him. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but Verrian silenced him with a sharp look.
"However," Verrian said, "this Council is not blind to the circumstances that led to your actions. We are aware of the… difficulties you have faced, the bullying you have endured. But understand this, Asterius: the ends do not justify the means. The use of unauthorized magic, especially of the nature you displayed, is a serious offense."
Asterius felt a spark of indignation flare within him. How could they sit there and lecture him about the rules when they had done nothing to stop the torment he had suffered for years? But he bit back the words, knowing that speaking out of turn would only make things worse.
Master Verrian's gaze softened slightly, as if he could sense Asterius's frustration. "That being said, we cannot ignore the fact that you have displayed a level of power that is… unusual, to say the least. The magic you wielded is not something that can be learned through conventional means. It is ancient, and potentially dangerous."
The other members of the Council nodded in agreement, their expressions grave. Asterius could feel their scrutiny, as if they were trying to unravel the mystery of his newfound abilities.
"We must know the source of this power," Verrian continued, his tone more serious than ever. "For the safety of the Academy, and for your own safety, Asterius. If this power is not controlled, it could have dire consequences."
Asterius's mind raced. What could he say? How could he explain the presence of the God of Astral without revealing too much? The God's voice whispered in his mind, urging him to remain calm, to choose his words carefully.
"I don't fully understand it myself, Master Verrian," Asterius said slowly, choosing his words with care. "It's… a connection. Something I've felt for a long time, but it only awakened recently. I don't know where it comes from, but I can feel that it's powerful."
Master Verrian studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "You must be cautious, Asterius. Power like this can be as much a curse as it is a gift. If you are not careful, it could consume you."
Asterius nodded, though he wasn't sure he fully understood the warning. The power of the God of Astral was overwhelming, yes, but it didn't feel like a curse. It felt like a lifeline, the one thing that could help him rise above the torment and finally take control of his destiny.
Verrian turned to the other members of the Council, who conferred in hushed tones for a moment before nodding in agreement. "We have decided on your punishment," Verrian announced, turning back to Asterius.
Asterius braced himself, expecting the worst.
"You will be placed under strict supervision," Verrian said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Your access to certain areas of the Academy will be restricted, and you will be required to attend additional training sessions to learn to control this power. Furthermore, you are to have no contact with the students you attacked. If you violate any of these conditions, you will be expelled from the Academy immediately."
Asterius's heart sank, but he managed to keep his expression neutral. It was a harsh punishment, but it could have been worse. At least he was still allowed to stay at the Academy. At least he still had a chance to rise above his current station.
But Verrian wasn't finished. "And one more thing, Asterius," he added, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Do not mistake this leniency for weakness. We are watching you closely. If you lose control again, if you endanger the lives of others, you will be dealt with accordingly. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master Verrian," Asterius replied, his voice steady. "I understand."
"Good," Verrian said, his tone final. "You are dismissed."
Asterius bowed his head and turned to leave, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. He had narrowly escaped expulsion, but the threat still loomed over him. The Academy was watching him, waiting for him to slip up, to prove that he was a danger.
As he left the Great Hall, the whispers of the other students followed him, but he ignored them. His mind was already focused on what lay ahead. He had power now, real power, but it came with a price. He would have to be careful, to tread carefully if he wanted to avoid the fate that Verrian had warned him about.
But one thing was certain: he would not allow himself to be a Dreg forever. The ranking system that had kept him at the bottom for so long would not hold him back any longer. He would rise, no matter what it took. And when he did, he would show the Academy, the Council, and the entire world what it meant to be the God of Astral.
As Asterius made his way back to his dormitory, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to change. The power he had unleashed was only the beginning, and he knew that the Academy would not let him rise without a fight.
But he was ready. He had endured years of torment, of being beaten down and humiliated. He had survived the lowest rank, the scorn of his peers, and the indifference of the instructors. He had nothing left to lose, and everything to gain.
And as he closed the door to his room, Asterius allowed himself a small, determined smile. The game had changed, and this time, he was playing to win.