Kael braced his hand against the cool tile wall, his head lowered as the shower cascaded over him, a relentless stream that did little to drown out the haunting nightmare.
His grandmother's face flashed vividly behind his closed eyelids, her smile shifting to a look of terror. The images were so real that he felt his chest tighten, a fist squeezing around his heart. His knuckles pressed harder against the tile as he fought the flood of emotions.
The mark on his arm seared like a brand, igniting his blood, a silent scream within him that he could never silence. Each time he caught sight of it, he was reminded of that night — the fear, the pain, the irreversible loss. The nightmares weren't just memories; they were shadows clinging to him, pulsing in his veins with each heartbeat.
He parted his lips, drawing in a breath, forcing his lungs to expand as he tried to calm himself. The cold water trickled down, working its way across his shoulders, down his spine, cooling his tense muscles but never touching the darkness that remained. He had spent hours here, trying to shake the dread, but it stayed stubbornly, reminding him that it was not just a nightmare — it was a scar on his soul, as indelible as the mark on his arm.
Taking a steady breath, he opened his eyes and straightened, letting the water beat down on his face, masking the remnants of fear and anguish. He rubbed a hand over his face, as if to erase the night's memories, then finally twisted the knob, turning off the stream.
The silence that followed felt loud, like a drumbeat echoing in his head, a constant reminder of everything he had yet to overcome.
Wrapping a towel around his waist, Kael stepped out, drying himself off in front of the mirror and dressing up in his formals. The reflection staring back at him was familiar yet alien; he looked well-groomed, his hair neatly combed, his shirt and tie impeccable as always, but the dark circles under his eyes betrayed him. The bags under his eyes and the faint redness around them spoke of another sleepless night.
Once he was ready, Kael took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and left his room. For a moment, he felt relief; the hallway was empty, his usual anxiety of a run-in dissipated for the time being. They weren't on his floor this morning.
He made his way downstairs, his footsteps echoing faintly as he approached the dining area. Breakfast was served privately in the respective quarters itself, a quiet reprieve from last night's tension.
But the thought was short-lived; as he entered, he noticed a scattering of people already present. He kept his gaze forward, avoiding unnecessary glances, and walked over to the counter to pick up his meal. He exchanged brief greetings with the staff, took his plate, and turned, eyes scanning for an empty seat.
But his hopes for a peaceful meal shattered as the four men strolled into the room, their confidence practically spilling over as they surveyed the dining area. Kael's rolled his eyes, but he maintained his steady stride, pointedly ignoring their presence as he searched for an empty seat.
"Kael," a familiar voice called out.
He turned, meeting Yuri's warm smile as she gestured to the empty chair beside her. For a fleeting second, he considered taking his meal elsewhere, but something in her expression softened his resistance. He nodded and made his way over, taking a seat across from her.
"Good morning," he greeted, taking his seat across from her.
"Good morning!" Yuri replied brightly, a smile lighting her face. "How has your stay been so far?"
He nodded, keeping his tone even. "Comfortable."
Yuri's smile widened as they both started to eat, her fork moving gracefully across her plate. The meal was simple, distinctly Valeran in style — earthy flavors that carried a warmth he had'nt realized he missed.
Kael allowed himself a moment of appreciation for the meal, and perhaps even for the brief ease of Yuri's company.
"Valeran has its quirks, I know, but there's truly no honey like Starlight Honey," Yuri began, eyes brightening as she enthusiastically detailed the unique blend of Valeran flowers that contributed to the flavor.
Kael listened with a faint smile, a flicker of amusement lighting his expression. Her knowledge was extensive, and her excitement contagious. She was soemone who made him feel somewhat at ease, her spirit and keen attention to detail a welcome contrast to the others.
But before Yuri could finish her sentence, Ethan Kross dropped into the chair beside her with a smirk, cutting her off with a pointed eye roll. "Alright, Yuri, I think Arden's heard enough about your honey obsession. No one's here for a culinary history lesson."
Kael raised a brow, meeting Ethan's gaze with a look of mild disinterest, but before he could respond, Yuri shot back, "If he wasn't interested, he'd have said so by now."
Kael nodded in agreement, keeping his voice smooth as he said, "I was actually enjoying it. It's a rare thing to find someone with such appreciation for detail."
Yuri flashed him a grateful smile, but her expression quickly soured as Nolan, who'd taken a seat beside him, interjected with a sneer, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Kael.
"Really? Didn't expect someone like you to fawn over her food rant," Nolan drawled, his tone laced with derision.
Kael kept his expression composed, though his gaze sharpened slightly as he replied, "When I have a problem with something, I'm not known for hiding it."
Landon, who sat at Nolan's side, scoffed, muttering under his breath. "Licking her boots already? Show some self-respect, Arden."
Yuri's eyes turned cold as she turned her head sharply toward Landon, her voice biting. "Maybe you should shut the hell up, Pierce."
The table fell silent, tension simmering as Landon threw a mocking glance back at her but said nothing, letting the words hang in the air. Kael inclined his head toward Yuri in quiet gratitude, his gaze flicking briefly to Ethan, whose eyes had darkened.
The server arrived just then, setting a glass of juice by each of them. Kael offered a polite nod, his fingers grazing the rim of the glass, feeling a rare pang of understanding as he caught the nervousness in the server's eyes.
He took a sip, the cool, slightly tangy flavor refreshing after the night's unrest, but as he drank, his sleeve slipped back, exposing the faint but unmistakable bruise on his wrist.
Yuri noticed it immediately, her brow knitting with concern as she set down her fork. "Kael… what happened to your wrist?"
The question, quiet but filled with concern, caught him slightly off guard.
Kael felt Ethan's stare fix on him, challenging, as if daring him to offer any truth that might disrupt the room's careful balance. Kael's jaw clenched slightly, but he let the tension roll off him, his tone casual as he replied, "Just a stupid accident."
Yuri's eyes lingered on him a moment longer, but she didn't press further. Ethan, however, leaned back in his chair, his expression darkening with a smug satisfaction. His gaze hardened as he spoke.
"Seems like you've been getting careless lately. Not very wise for someone who prides himself on control," he said, his voice low, dripping with amusement.
Kael's lips curled into a subtle, polite smile as he returned the gaze. "Everyone could use a reminder that life is rarely predictable. Keeps things interesting, don't you think?"
Nolan scoffed as he took a sip from his own glass, but Kael noticed his eyes flicker, a faint frustration breaking through his cold demeanor. "Oh, is that so? Seems more like recklessness to me."
Landon grunted in agreement with Nolan, a look of faint irritation on his face as he muttered something under his breath.
Kael leaned forward, his voice as cool as his gaze. "It's a matter of perspective, I suppose. But then again, perspective is a rare thing to come by."
A tense silence settled over the table as Nolan's face flushed with barely-contained frustration. He opened his mouth to reply, but Ethan cut him off with a smile tinged with malice.
"Of course, Kael. You must have some unique perspectives," Ethan said, his voice low. Oh he had no idea "But in some cases, perspectives haunt."
Kael met Ethan's gaze with a steady look, his tone unruffled. "Funny. Coming from someone who's learned to dodge the truth as a family practice."
Ethan's smirk faltered, something darker flickering across his face. In that brief moment, the air grew thick, each of them poised in an unspoken battle, their exchange veiled in polite words and sharpened edges.
Yuri glanced warily between them, not attempting to lighten the mood as she took a small sip of her juice, letting the silence stretch uncomfortably.
Kael took one last sip from his glass, setting it down with quiet composure before he pushed his plate away, rising from the table with a calm, polite nod. "I'll leave you all to enjoy your breakfast."
As he left the table, he could feel their eyes trailing him, each gaze weighted with its own silent judgment, its own silent threat. He ignored the heavy feeling of their stares, keeping his steps measured and his expression smooth.
As he finally returned to the quiet of his room, Kael closed the door behind him, letting the tension of the dining room fall away. But he knew this was only the beginning — the war of words and quiet glances was merely setting the stage for the battle yet to come.
***
Kael sat beside Professor Aldwin in the waiting room, an air of formality settling around them.
The austere room was arranged with chairs in a neat semicircle, each one angled to face the seven participants' seats near the door, all empty for now. Only the stark sigil of House Valeran adorned the otherwise simple walls.
Kael's gaze lingered on those seats, a thread of curiosity tightening in his chest.
Seven seats — yet he'd only met five of the other participants so far. Even his professor hadn't been able to provide any insight on the elusive sixth contender. Kael clenched his fingers subtly, feeling the pulse of tension thrumming under his calm exterior.
Professor Aldwin was engaged in a quiet conversation with Professor Smith, Yuri's mentor, when a hum from the screen drew everyone's attention. His eyes settled on the monitor as it flickered to life, displaying the stern, weathered face of the Vyranth — The High Chair of Education himself.
Valor Ashford commanded respect with an aura of intense authority, one honed over decades. His white hair, precise and impeccably groomed, framed sharp brown eyes that held all in their scrutiny. Once a Navy SEAL Commander and a high-ranking Enforcer in the Defense sector, his reputation was built on experience and skill.
As he began speaking, his voice resounded with an energy both dignified and unyielding.
"Esteemed professors, leaders, and rising minds, I thank each of you for attending. Today marks a momentous occasion, not just for the seven individuals who will be introduced, but for our entire nation. The future of our world lies in your hands, and the responsibility is both noble and formidable. Our land's progress and continued strength depend on education, and it's here in this very room that the foundation is set."
The Vyranth's gaze moved over the room with unwavering intensity, his tone a mixture of pride and warning. "To those seated here, you are not just students. You are future visionaries, architects of a world yet unformed. You are expected not only to lead but to embody the integrity, dedication, and resilience that will propel this nation forward. The legacy you create will not end with you; it will echo, shaping the lives of generations to come."
A hush fell over the room, each word sinking in as the Vyranth spoke, drawing the audience closer with the promise and weight of what was to come.
"This is a role that demands sacrifice and loyalty, an honor and a challenge in equal measure. And it is a role that must be earned — not given. Our competitions are rigorous for a reason, and each of you is here because you are capable. But I will remind you that 'capable' is only a beginning."
His final words, deliberate and cutting, hung in the air like an oath, an edict. Then he turned back to the room, his gaze intense as he called forth each participant.
"Now, let me introduce you to our future leaders, our future world shapers — my participants."
One by one, the names rang out.
"Yuri San." She rose, a confident and familiar warmth to her as she exited the waiting room. The applause echoed from the audience, a blend of appreciation and respect as she ascended the stairs and shook Vyranth's hands.
"Ethan Kross." His stride was purposeful, his eyes steady, as he exited, head held high amidst another burst of applause.
"Landon Pierce." His expression shifted between smugness and a steely reserve as he departed to greet the Vyranth.
"Nolan Greer." A cold, measured confidence radiated from him, his steps precise, almost rehearsed.
"Axel Harrington." The applause resonated once more, a respectful nod to his quiet but determined presence.
Then, the room fell quiet again as Kael waited for the sixth name. He sensed it would be something…unexpected.
"Kaelith Draven."
A murmur of intrigue buzzed through the room. Kael's breath caught as a familiar face filled the screen — a girl with storm-gray eyes and an unshakeable poise.
Kaelith Draven.
House Thorne.
Everyone knew the ancient rivalry between House Valeran and House Thorne, a clash woven through generations. Her figure commanded attention as she shook hands with the Vyranth, a faintly defiant glint in her eye as she took her seat.
Truly unexpected.
Kael's heart beat faster, a low thrill mingling with tension at seeing her here. Everyone was apprehensive of her — and not just her but every human from House Thorne — because... let's just say House Thorne is not your normal house.
A sense of warning prickled at his senses. With her as a contender, the stakes had just risen higher than he'd anticipated.
The Vyranth's gaze shifted again, his tone deepening as he called the seventh name.
"And our seventh participant is Kael..."
A flicker of hesitation crossed the Vyranth's expression, and he paused. The air thickened as a ripple of whispers stirred among the audience. Kael sat up straighter.
Does he know?
Does he remember?
The questions tugged at his mind, leaving a tension heavy in his chest.
The Vyranth continued, "Arden."
Kael stood, feeling every eye in the room follow him. The applause that followed was subdued, tinged with uncertain glances and, in some cases, open suspicion. He ignored the hesitation in the claps and walked forward, his face calm as he met the Vyranth's gaze.
"Welcome, Mr. Arden," the Vyranth greeted him, but his tone was laced with disapproval, and his handclasp was firm, testing. The words that followed, whispered under the noise of the room, were clear as ice. "I hope you deserve what's rightfully yours."
Kael felt the weight of those words sink into him, pressing against his resolve. But he met the Vyranth's challenging gaze with one of quiet confidence, his jaw tight as he nodded. The High Chair held his stare a moment longer, then turned to position himself in the center of the participants for the customary photograph.
Kael pushed the words aside, ignoring the unease they stirred. When the camera flashed, he plastered on a slight smile, his eyes meeting the Vyranth's gaze once more before he looked away.
As the flash faded, a chill washed over Kael, familiar and biting. His mind cleared, cold calculation replacing any hint of doubt.
What he deserved was to win. And he would claim it — no matter what he had to do to seize it.