Lucian stepped out of the classroom, the tension from his exchange with Kael still clinging to his thoughts. Before he could fully process the debate, an arm draped casually around the back of his neck. Instinctively, he knew who it was.
"Man, that was something else!" his best friend boomed, his laughter echoing down the hallway. "I don't think I've ever seen you so fired up about anything, Lu!"
Elias was a towering presence at 6'4", broad-shouldered and built like a mountain. Despite his size, his kind eyes and perpetually messy brown hair gave him an air of innocence that softened his otherwise imposing figure. He was a simple soul, the kind of person who wore his heart on his sleeve, and his slightly airheaded nature made him all the more endearing.
"I mean, come on!" Elias continued, his grin infectious. "You were spitting arguments like some kind of preacher! Where'd that come from?"
Lucian shook his head, feigning exasperation. "Maybe it was just the heat of the moment."
"Sure, sure," Elias teased. "But seriously, I've gotta admit, that guy caught me off guard. I truly thought he was a Dissenter! They're rare these days, you know?"
Lucian nodded thoughtfully as they walked side by side. "Yeah, I was surprised too. Especially considering the world we live in now. You'd think everyone would have some sense of the divine, one way or another."
Elias laughed, a hearty, booming sound that turned a few heads. "But admit it! You didn't see it coming when he flipped the script and said he believed in God. Your face was priceless!"
Lucian rolled his golden eyes. "Hilarious."
The two continued down the bustling hallways, the chatter of students fading into a distant hum. As they walked, Lucian felt the usual eyes on him—curious, admiring, envious. It was something he had grown used to.
Lucian Vale was strikingly handsome, with long white hair that shimmered like silver and golden eyes that seemed to glow faintly in the light. His popularity wasn't just due to his looks; he was a genius in every regard. Though reserved and often distant, he had a magnetic quality that drew people to him.
It wasn't just his peers who admired him either. He carried the weight of a legacy. Lucian was the son of Solomon Vale, one of the Seven, a legendary group of warriors whose strength and influence shaped the very foundation of their society. Solomon's mastery in battle and his unshakable will had made him a living symbol of power and resilience, commanding both respect and fear. His name was whispered in awe, a testament to his unmatched prowess and the weight of the ideals he upheld. Being the son of such a figure was both a blessing and a burden—one that Lucian bore with quiet resolve.
"You're doing it again," Elias said, snapping Lucian out of his thoughts.
"Doing what?"
"Brooding. Thinking too much. You're gonna get wrinkles before you're twenty if you keep this up," Elias teased, ruffling Lucian's hair playfully.
Lucian brushed him off with a small smirk. "Maybe I'll just blame you for my premature aging."
They turned a corner, the hallway opening up into a grand atrium filled with students milling about. The sunlight streaming through the high glass ceilings illuminated the polished floors, reflecting the ever-present hum of life in the academy.
Lucian glanced at Elias with a small grin. "Alright, I've got Will training next."
Elias groaned dramatically, ruffling his already messy hair. "Lucky you, getting to mess around with all that mystical stuff while I'm stuck in Advanced Mechanics. Catch you later, genius."
They clasped hands briefly, a quick goodbye between close friends, before parting ways. Lucian continued down a series of wide hallways, his footsteps echoing off the polished stone.
When he arrived at his next class, the environment was a stark contrast to the academic lecture hall from earlier. The room was vast, more an arena than a classroom, with walls that shimmered faintly as though imbued with the same energy they were here to master. Training dummies lined one side, each glowing faintly with technological inscriptions. On the opposite wall, rows of weapons—traditional and modern—gleamed under soft, artificial light.
As Lucian walked in, he noted the class was already filling up with a mix of students, men and women alike. Yet, even in casual conversation or quiet preparation, the distinctions between them were clear.
There were two types of Will: Inner Will and Outer Will. Women were often more attuned to Inner Will, the subtle, introspective strength that flowed from deep emotions, intuition, and self-awareness. Men, by contrast, excelled in Outer Will, the forceful, outward expression of strength and power, honed through action and confrontation.
Lucian had thought that perhaps things would balance out here at Elarion Academy, the pinnacle of elite training for both forms of Will and combat. After all, this was a place where the best of the best gathered, transcending stereotypes or predispositions. Yet, as he scanned the room, he saw that even among this talented group, the trend remained. Most women carried themselves with a quiet, resolute focus, their Inner Will radiating in subtle but undeniable ways. Most men, meanwhile, embodied raw determination and visible energy, their Outer Will almost tangible in their movements.
Lucian couldn't help but admire the diversity of skills and temperaments. Here, both strengths would be tested—and both would be needed to survive.
Lucian made his way to the adjoining room, where rows of sleek lockers lined the walls. He tapped his locker's biometric scanner, and it slid open with a soft hiss. Inside was his training gear—a black tech suit designed for Will manipulation and combat. Its surface shimmered faintly, embedded with microfibers that reacted to Will flows, enhancing movement and protection.
After suiting up, he returned to the arena and began his stretches. The suit fit snugly, allowing for full range of motion while giving him a sense of heightened awareness.
"Hey," came a soft voice.
Lucian glanced to his right and immediately recognized her—Serena Faelora. She was tall and slender, with golden hair that cascaded like liquid sunlight down her back. Her eyes, sharp as a hawk's, gave her an intense and almost intimidating aura. Yet her demeanor was anything but. Serena's kind and loving nature made her warmth stand out even more when she smiled, a smile that felt like the first light of dawn breaking through the darkest night.
Lucian returned her smile, a genuine one that crinkled the corners of his golden eyes. "Hello, Serena."
She stepped closer, her movements graceful and deliberate. "How was trial training? I know you've been stressed about it a bit."
Lucian exhaled a light chuckle, running a hand through his white hair. "Yeah, it's been tough—especially with my dad personally training me. He doesn't believe in cutting me any slack."
Serena tilted her head, her expression softening. "I get it. The closer we get to the trials, the more tension you can feel in everyone. But you'll be fine. You've got a Seven training you, after all."
Lucian smirked at that, about to respond, but a sharp voice cut through the ambient noise of the arena.
"Students, gather up!"
The instructor, a tall woman with sharp features and short, jet-black hair streaked with crimson, stood with an air of authority that commanded immediate attention. Her voice rang clear and steady, amplified slightly by the arena's sound system.
"As you all know, there are now exactly 30 days until your trials begin," she said, her piercing gaze scanning the group. "Let this be your motivation to learn and grow as much as you can. This isn't just training—it's life or death."
The room grew tense, the weight of her words sinking in.
"Starting today," she continued, her tone hardening, "we shift our focus. The last 30 days will teach you how to wield your Will as a survival tool. There will be no hand-holding. If you falter in the trials, there will be no second chances. So, we begin now."
With that, her Will ignited around her—a vibrant, fiery red that blazed like molten lava, its sheer intensity causing the air around her to shimmer.
Lucian could feel the energy ripple through the room, a powerful wave that demanded respect and attention. Before anyone could fully process it, red blades of pure Will materialized around her, sharp and deadly, swishing through the air with frightening speed.
Whoosh!
The first blade darted through the air, narrowly missing a student's shoulder. As if on cue, the students' headgear activated, sleek tech visors snapping into place and wrapping around their heads with a faint mechanical hiss. The visors provided immediate protection, their nano-tech design reinforced to withstand Will strikes.
Lucian's own headgear slid into place, the translucent shield displaying a quick diagnostic on the inside screen. His golden eyes flickered with a mix of focus and curiosity as he observed the instructor.
"Your Will is not just a weapon," the instructor said, her voice unyielding. "It's your shield, your lifeline, and your only ally in the trials. Show me you can survive, or be prepared to fail. Now... dodge."
The room erupted into chaos as the red blades streaked toward the students like fiery meteors. Lucian leaped to the side, his movements fluid and precise, narrowly avoiding a blade that slashed past him. The hum of energy filled the arena as the students scrambled, the deadly dance of survival beginning in earnest.