Kael stood in the grand hall of the university, surrounded by the heavy, expectant gazes of his professors.
The air buzzed with a strange tension, a mixture of hope and fear, of ambition and threat. Every word they spoke carried weight, not just in meaning but in the pressure that came with it.
"You're the first," Director Vernaniz rasped, his voice thick with age and resentment. "Seventy years since this university has had even the chance to participate in Vyrimka Sadan's competition."
His tone wasn't just bitter, it was personal. The way he spat the words out, as though they had been gnawing at him for decades, made it clear that this wasn't just about the university's reputation. It was about him.
"They never let us in," he continued, eyes narrowing. The lines on his face deepened with each word. "But now, now we've got a foot in the door."
The unspoken message lingered in the air, thick and accusatory. If Kael failed, the blame would be his alone.
The Chairperson, a thin, stern man with eyes like sharpened steel, stepped forward. His voice was calm, but the undertone of warning was unmistakable. "This opportunity must be handled with care, Kael. It is a test of both, intelligence and discipline."
His sharp gaze bore into Kael, delivering the real message: Don't mess this up.
Kael nodded, but his mind was already beginning to drift away. He'd learned long ago not to let their words sink in too deeply. If he did, the weight of their expectations would crush him. Instead, he focused on the task ahead, not the pressure behind it.
"I will win this competition," he said, his voice steady. His words weren't meant to reassure them — he didn't care about that. They were a statement of fact. He would win.
The professors exchanged pleased looks, their eyes lighting up with a satisfaction that made Kael feel distant. They saw him as their weapon, their tool for redemption. And while they basked in their newfound hope, Kael was already thinking about what came next.
Professor Aldwin's voice broke through the moment. "We need to leave. The car is waiting."
Her tone was clipped, her eyes sharp as always. There was no need for pleasantries between them. Kael liked that about her. She never wasted words.
After a few more insincere words of encouragement from the professors, Director and Chairperson, Kael followed Professor Aldwin out of the hall and into the waiting car.
The vehicle was a testament to wealth — plush leather seats, polished wood, and sleek luxury. The smell of rich leather filled the air, blending with the faint scent of lavender from the car's air fresheners. It was too much for him, but he said nothing.
As the car pulled away from the university, Kael turned to the window, his gaze unfocused as the landscape blurred by. The steady hum of the engine, the soft melodies playing on the radio, the slight change in the car's temperature — all of it faded into the background.
His mind slipped into its familiar state of detachment, a defense mechanism he had perfected over the years. He was aware of everything, yet at the same time, he was nowhere.
His thoughts drifted back to the morning.
***
Sleep had been elusive, as always. He had spent the night wide awake, his mind circling the same thoughts over and over again. Just before dawn, around four in the morning, the Sage had returned.
He had heard the soft shuffle of her feet, the creak of the door as she entered the house. Something had felt off about her — something he couldn't quite place in the dim light of early morning. She seemed different, like the air around her had shifted. But Kael didn't dwell on it. He hadn't asked.
Two hours later, Kael had risen from his chair, still feeling the weight of the sleepless night. The fog of exhaustion clung to his thoughts, but he brushed it aside, forcing himself to focus. Today was important. He couldn't afford to be distracted.
After a long, cold shower, he packed his bag, double-checked everything, and headed downstairs.
There had been no morning meditation session, no physical training. The Sage was already sitting in her usual spot, eyes closed. Kael hadn't seen her sleep once in all the time they had spent together. She always returned from the temple just before dawn, ready to start his training. Did she rest at the temple? Did it even matter?
He made breakfast, feeling the Sage's eyes on him the entire time. She never interfered when he cooked. She observed.
When he had placed the food in front of her and bent down to touch her feet, she had given him her blessings with the same soft smile she always wore.
No words were exchanged.
The silence between them had been both comforting and unsettling. It was the same silence they always shared before something important. Kael didn't know what to make of it. He didn't want to think about it too much. She was there to guide him. Nothing more.
"Today is a big day," the Sage had said after a long while, her voice calm but layered with meaning. "How are you feeling?"
"I'll win," Kael had replied simply.
The Sage had smiled again, but there was something in her eyes that lingered — something that made Kael uneasy. Did she know? He hoped she did, because that would make everything easier. If she already knew the chaos in his mind, then he wouldn't have to explain anything.
***
"Kael."
Professor Aldwin's voice snapped Kael out of his thoughts. He blinked, focusing on her as she watched him closely. Her sharp eyes scanned his face, searching for signs of distraction.
"You seem lost," she observed, her tone mild but probing.
"I'm not," Kael replied, his voice sharper than he intended. "I'm just revising."
Aldwin raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, but chose not to push the matter further. "Don't strain yourself, Kael. Relax."
Relax. It was easy for her to say. He nodded anyway, uninterested in prolonging the conversation. Zoning out was a survival mechanism. It kept his mind quiet, helped him cope with the relentless chaos and pressure around him. He preferred this state — a safe, muted space where the weight of expectations couldn't touch him.
The car hummed along the road but the silence inside was heavy with unspoken thoughts and expectations. Professor Aldwin, ever professional, briefed him.
"We'll be staying at Vyrimka Sadan's guest quarters. Professors have separate accommodations from students. There are only seven participants, including you," she explained, though Kael had heard this all before.
The Chairperson had made sure to hammer that point into him during every meeting. "Only seven," he had warned, his voice a mixture of threat and caution. "Which means no room for mistakes. You will be closely watched."
Kael had nodded then, the way he was nodding now. But he didn't care about the numbers. It didn't matter how few or how many competitors there were. What mattered — what had kept his thoughts turning all morning — was who these participants were.
And Professor Aldwin confirmed it in the next breath.
"Five of them are from the Echelon Circle. Sixth's identity is still unknown to me."
Kael felt a pulse of energy rise in his chest, his heart thrumming with anticipation. He hadn't expected this.
The Echelon Circle — the elite bloodlines of Altara.
Their families controlled more than just businesses or land. These were the people whose power stretched across borders, whose influence ran so deep it could change the course of politics and trade alike.
Six competitors, all from this untouchable, almost mythic circle, the heirs to the greatest fortunes and industries of their world. They didn't just inherit wealth; they inherited power, the kind of power that could make empires tremble, though not quite overthrow the royals. The royals were untouchable, of course — the final authority in Altara — but the Echelon Circle stood just beneath, wielding a kind of soft power that was equally dangerous in its subtlety.
Kael hadn't anticipated facing them, especially not here. The Echelon elites didn't bother themselves with things like competitions. They didn't need to. Their paths were already paved with gold — literally and figuratively. Their futures were already secure, guaranteed by the conglomerates they would one day control.
So why were they here?
Why would the children of Altara's most influential families lower themselves to a mere academic competition? The thought gnawed at Kael. Something about this situation didn't feel right. Why now? Why them?
Aldwin continued speaking, oblivious to the storm of questions brewing in his mind. "They come from the highest circles. These connections could be valuable for your future, Kael. Be civil with them."
Kael almost laughed at that. Civil? Yes, he'd be civil.
But his goals were more complex than making friends or networking. He wanted to study them, dissect their strengths, their weaknesses. The Echelon Circle might be powerful, but they weren't invincible. They had flaws — everyone did — and Kael was determined to find them. To understand them.
And it wasn't every day that someone like Kael, an outsider, had the rare opportunity to stand among the elites of the Echelon Circle.
But he would have to be careful. These people weren't ordinary competitors. They had been raised in environments where even a casual word or action could shift alliances, tip balances. Every glance, every conversation would carry layers of meaning, every gesture carefully calculated.
The Echelon Circle, despite their wealth and influence, were not above the law of the land. The royals ruled with absolute authority — unquestioned and unchallenged. The Circle's power was rooted in their ability to influence those who held the real reigns of governance, not to hold them themselves.
They were advisors, investors, strategic players in a game where the royals made the final moves. Yet, their ability to shape economic policies and direct the flow of capital gave them unparalleled sway in the world beneath the crown.
They might not be the rulers, but they were the architects of everything that happened behind the throne.
Kael had to admit — there was a certain thrill in the thought of competing against these heirs. The sons and daughters of conglomerates that shaped the economy of Altara, of houses that dictated the trade routes, supply lines, and even the distribution of resources. Their reach extended into the very fabric of this land, touching lives even at the most basic levels.
Kael's lips curled into a slight smile. They would be fascinating to observe.
By early afternoon, they would arrive at Vyrimka Sadan. There was a ceremony planned, a formal welcome to the participants that involved traditional dances and songs, meant to celebrate the heritage of the land. It was supposed to be a bonding moment, a display of unity and cultural pride.
Kael had no interest in it. He had his sights set on something else. He let the car's hum pull him back into his detached state.
The games would begin soon.
And he would be ready.
***
Three hours later, the world outside Kael's window had shifted entirely, transforming from the quiet, familiar landscape of his small town of Rana into something far grander. As the car eased into the market district of House Valeran, Kael found himself unable to look away from the spectacle before him.
The market wasn't like the ones back home, where disarray and the sounds of haggling filled the air. Here, everything was in perfect order, a carefully woven tapestry of structure and prosperity.
The roads were broad, lined with immaculate white stones, their surfaces untouched by the dirt and chaos Kael had come to expect in bustling places. Even the traffic seemed to move with a precise rhythm, each carriage and vehicle perfectly directed by guards stationed at key intersections.
The guards wore crisp, spotless white uniforms, standing like sentinels with their backs straight and eyes sharp, their presence a constant reminder of the power and discipline that governed this house. Not a speck of dust dared to cling to their pristine attire, and their eyes scanned the streets with practiced vigilance.
The shops lining the street were arranged in perfect symmetry, each storefront gleaming as though it had been freshly polished for their arrival. Signs hung above the doors, proudly displaying their wares in elegant lettering.
Small flags, bearing the golden lion of House Valeran on its signature crimson field, fluttered in the slight breeze from the upper corners of each shop and home. It was a subtle but undeniable mark of loyalty, a reminder of the house's omnipresence.
The homes here themselves were masterpieces, a blend of old-world charm and modern grandeur. Some stood tall and imposing, enormous mansions that loomed over the street with lush, manicured gardens surrounding them like sentinels. Others, smaller but no less beautiful, were arranged in well-kept colonies, their walls painted in hues that complemented the natural greenery that seemed to sprout from every corner of this city.
The greenery was lush, an almost unnaturally vibrant green, cascading down from the rooftops or lining the walkways with fragrant flowers and ancient trees that seemed to whisper tales of Valeran's long history.
Kael's eyes couldn't stop darting from one marvel to the next. His heart matched the rhythm of his pulse as the car neared its destination, and he couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider here.
He had grown up hearing stories of House Valeran — none were good —, but none had prepared him for the sheer scale and grandeur of it all. This was a place where wealth and power did not just exist — they were woven into the very fabric of the land.
As they neared the heart of the district, the road became narrower, and then, up ahead, Kael saw it: the massive double doors of Vyrimka Sadan. The gates were carved from thick, dark wood, polished to a gleam that reflected the golden light of the late afternoon sun.
They were towering, imposing, but it was the sigil carved into the wood that stole his breath — a golden lion roaring fiercely, its teeth bared as if daring anyone to challenge it. Set against the rich crimson field, the lion looked alive, powerful, and terrifying in its majesty.
It was a reminder of House Valeran's strength, its dominion over the education society of Altara. It stood as a warning, a promise, and a symbol of the influence they wielded.
Two guards stepped forward as the car rolled to a stop. They, too, wore the spotless white uniforms of the Valeran guards, their faces impassive and unreadable. Without a word, they began inspecting the vehicle, their movements precise, methodical.
Kael watched as they checked every inch, not just of the car but of the identities of those within it. Nothing was overlooked, not even the smallest detail.
After a few moments, the guards stepped back, satisfied. The gates began to open, swinging inward with a low, heavy groan that echoed through the courtyard. Beyond the gates, Kael caught his first glimpse of the grand estate of Vyrimka Sadan.
Kael could feel the weight of the moment. As the car rolled forward through the towering entrance, Professor Aldwin's voice broke the silence, filled with a sense of importance. "Welcome to House Valeran, Kael."
Kael couldn't help but feel a sense of awe, despite his efforts to remain detached. As much as he tried to remain on the outside looking in, something within him stirred. For the first time in a long while, he felt welcomed.
He quickly buried that thought as they drove through.
The car came to a stop at the foot of the grand staircase leading to the entrance of Vyrimka Sadan, the seat of House Valeran's power. As Kael stepped out, two more guards approached, dressed in the same pristine white uniforms, their faces solemn.
"You'll find your belongings in the reception area of your quarters," one of the guards informed them. His voice was calm, respectful, but carried with it the efficiency of someone well-versed in dealing with guests of high importance. Professor Aldwin gave a curt nod in acknowledgment, and they proceeded to the stairs.
But Kael's eyes were drawn elsewhere.
A troop of soldiers marched across the courtyard in unison, their golden shirts catching the light of the afternoon sun. They wore maroon pants, the attire casual, but their movements were far from it.
Each step they took was perfectly in sync, their bodies moving with a discipline that spoke of rigorous training. This was no casual stroll. Even though Kael knew this wasn't the official uniform of House Valeran's military, there was something awe-inspiring in their synchronization, in the way they moved as one. Their steps seemed to echo power, control, and an almost palpable authority.
"Kael," Professor Aldwin called, snapping him out of his thoughts once more. "Let's go."
They ascended the broad marble steps. The mansion — no, the fortress — loomed before them, every window, every stone, speaking of wealth and legacy. Vyrimka Sadan wasn't just a place; it was an institution. And now, Kael was about to step inside.
The entrance hall was cavernous, its high ceilings adorned with intricate golden chandeliers that bathed the room in a warm, soft glow.
But what immediately drew Kael's attention was the enormous statue standing just inside the door — a golden lion, roaring fiercely, its teeth bared as it faced the entrance. Beneath its powerful paws, the ground was a deep crimson, as though the very earth it stood on bled Valeran's colors.
It was a breathtaking representation of their sigil, brought to life in gold and red. It felt as though the lion was guarding the mansion itself, watching every soul that dared step inside.
They moved past the lion, and Kael's gaze was drawn to the reception desk where a man, immaculately dressed in a black suit, greeted them with a practiced, professional smile. His voice was deep and smooth, every word rehearsed. "Good afternoon. May I see your invite, please?"
Professor Aldwin returned his greeting and handed over their official invitation along with her university identification card. "Professor Ruth Aldwin," she introduced herself.
The man smiled, "Welcome to Vyrimka Sadan Professor Aldwin."
Professor returned the smile and the man shifted his attention to his computer, his fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard as he entered her details.
"Professor Aldwin!"
They turned to see an elderly woman approaching, her face alight with recognition and warmth. Professor Aldwin excused herself, moving toward the woman with a welcoming smile, leaving Kael standing by the reception desk.
The man at the desk looked up and on noticing the absence of the professor, he handed her university card to Kael. "And you are, Mr. Kael…" the man began but as he read the name on the document, something shifted in his expression. The smile faltered, his hands hesitating.
"Arden," Kael completed, his voice steady as he handed over his university identification card.
The man just stared at it for a long moment, his gaze flickering between the card and the letter of acceptance. Kael could see the shift in his expression, the uncertainty, the sudden shadow that seemed to fall across his face.
"Excuse me, sir?" Kael prompted, his voice calm but firm.
The man startled at the sound, nearly dropping the letter from his trembling hands. "I-I apologize, Mr. Arden," he stammered, barely able to whisper the last name, as though it carried a weight he was unprepared for.
His fingers trembled as he began entering Kael's details into the computer, slower than before, his gaze flickering nervously between the screen and Kael.
Kael said nothing, but he couldn't ignore the tension that now hung in the air. The man was visibly unsettled. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face, falling onto the keys as he typed, and his hands shook as he finally returned Kael's documents.
The tension between them grew, thick and uncomfortable, until finally, the man handed back Kael's card and acceptance letter, along with two small badges bearing the Valeran sigil and the name of Kael's university.
"Wel- Wel- to," the man took a deep breath in and swallowed, his eyes closing for the briefest second. Kael waited for him to finish. "Welcome to Vyrimka Sadan, Mr. Kael... Arden," he whispered, almost as though afraid to speak louder, as though the name carried a weight he wasn't prepared for.
Without a word, Kael turned to leave just as Professor Aldwin rejoined him.
"Oh, the badges," she said, taking one from Kael's hand and pinning it to her chest. Kael followed her example, though his movements felt more robotic.
"That woman is one of the oldest committee members of Vyrimka Sadan," Professor Aldwin said as they walked toward the auditorium, "I'll introduce her to you after the ceremony."
Kael nodded absently, but his mind was elsewhere. As they entered the auditorium, only one question burned in his mind:
Do they know?