Rise of the Peerless God of War

Chapter 3

The Imperial Academy was a lot bigger than Draven had expected.

A lot bigger.

Floating spires twisted up into the clouds, held aloft by some kind of wind magic that made his stomach lurch just looking at it. Students flew between the towers on platforms of earth and ice, showing off for each other like it was nothing special.

"First time seeing real magic?" the carriage driver asked, not unkindly. "Takes some getting used to."

"Something like that," Draven muttered.

What he didn't say was that it was his first time seeing magic he couldn't do. Which was all of it.

The main gate was carved from a single piece of white stone, thirty feet tall and covered in moving runes that shifted colors as students passed through. A line of new arrivals stretched out in front of it, all of them looking nervous but excited.

All of them probably had actual power.

"This is as far as I go," the driver said, pulling the carriage to a stop. "Academy grounds are warded against outside transport. You'll have to walk from here."

Draven grabbed his bag and climbed down, his legs shaky from the long ride. The driver gave him a sympathetic look.

"Good luck, young lord. Try not to let the bastards get you down."

Too late for that.

The walk to the registration table felt like a death march. Students everywhere were demonstrating their abilities—casual little shows of power that probably took them no effort at all. A girl about his age created a rose out of ice, then melted it with fire from her other hand. A boy juggled balls of lightning like they were toys.

Draven kept his head down and his mouth shut.

"Name?" The registration clerk looked bored out of his mind.

"Draven Ashworth."

The clerk's eyebrows shot up. "The General's son? But I thought—" He caught himself and cleared his throat. "I mean, welcome to the academy."

Yeah, you thought right. The powerless one.

"Dormitory assignment is on your paperwork," the clerk continued, handing over a thick packet. "You're in the Ember Block. First-year housing."

Draven glanced at the paper. Room 847. "Ember Block?"

"Lowest tier," the clerk said, not meeting his eyes. "For students who are…erm… still developing their abilities."

Nice way of saying 'for the losers.'

The Ember Block was exactly what Draven expected—a squat, ugly building that looked like it had been built as an afterthought. No floating spires here. No magical defenses. Just plain stone and disappointment.

Room 847 was on the top floor, naturally. By the time Draven hauled his bag up four flights of stairs, he was sweating and out of breath. The other students he passed in the hallways all looked like they belonged here. Confident. Powerful.

Everything I'm not.

He was fumbling with his room key when a voice behind him made him freeze.

"Well, well. Look what we have here."

Draven turned around to find three boys blocking the hallway. The one in front was tall and broad-shouldered, with red hair and eyes that glowed faintly with inner fire. A fire mage, and a strong one from the look of him.

"I know you," the redhead continued, a nasty smile spreading across his face. "You're the Ashworth boy. The hollow one."

"Cus Thornfield," one of his friends whispered. "His family's almost as famous as yours. For different reasons."

Great. Academy politics already.

"I heard about your awakening ceremony," Cus said, taking a step closer. "Must have been embarrassing. All those people watching while you failed."

"Yeah, well, we all have bad days," Draven said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Cus laughed. "Bad day? Try bad life. What are you even doing here? This is a school for people with actual talent."

The pendant under Draven's shirt felt warm against his skin. Not hot, just... present. Like it was waiting for something.

"I'm here to learn," Draven said. "Same as everyone else."

"Learn what? How to be even more useless?" Cus's friends snickered. "Face it, Ashworth. You don't belong here. You belong in some normal school, learning normal things. Like how to count money or whatever it is powerless people do."

Don't react. Don't give him what he wants.

But Draven's hands were already clenching into fists.

"What's going on here?"

The new voice came from the other end of the hallway. A boy about Draven's age was walking toward them, carrying what looked like a bag of rocks. He was shorter than Marcus but built like a stone wall, with earth-brown eyes and the kind of steady presence that made you feel calmer just looking at him.

"Nothing that concerns you, Ironforge," Cus said, but some of the swagger went out of his voice.

"Looks like three against one to me," the newcomer said mildly. "That doesn't seem very sporting."

"This is academy business," one of Cus' friends said. "Noble business. You wouldn't understand."

The stone boy—Ironforge—set down his bag with a heavy thunk. "Try me."

For a moment, Draven thought Cus might actually start a fight right there in the hallway. The redhead's hands were starting to smoke, and the temperature around them was rising noticeably.

Then footsteps echoed from the stairwell, and Cus seemed to remember where he was.

"This isn't over, Ashworth," he said, backing away. "Sooner or later, everyone's going to see what you really are. A fake. A fraud. A waste of space."

The three of them disappeared down the stairs, leaving Draven alone with his apparent rescuer.

"Thanks," Draven said, meaning it. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yeah, I did." The boy stuck out a hand. "Jin Ironforge. And you're Draven Ashworth, though I'm guessing you're getting tired of people knowing that."

"Something like that." Draven shook his hand, surprised by the calluses. "You're an earth mage, right?"

"Stone, specifically. My family's in construction." Jin hefted his bag again. "We build things that last. Speaking of which, you look like you could use some help with that room key."

The door to 847 was apparently warped from age, because it took both of them pushing to get it open. The room inside was small and plain, with two beds, two desks, and a window that looked out over the practice yards.

"Could be worse," Jin said, looking around. "Could be the Spark Block. I heard they don't even have windows."

"There's something lower than Ember?"

"Oh yeah. Spark is for kids who can barely light a candle. Ember is for late bloomers and..." Jin paused, looking uncomfortable.

"And charity cases," Draven finished. "It's okay. I know what I am."

Jin frowned. "What you are is an Ashworth. That's got to count for something."

If only.

They spent the next hour getting settled, and Draven found himself actually enjoying the conversation. Jin was easy to talk to, and he didn't seem to care that Draven was the family disappointment. He talked about his home in the merchant district, his family's business, his hopes for the academy.

"What about you?" Jin asked, sitting on his bed. "What do you want to get out of this place?"

To prove I'm not worthless. To show my family they were wrong. To find out if this pendant means I actually have a chance.

"I just want to learn," Draven said instead. "Figure out who I'm supposed to be."

Jin nodded like that made perfect sense. "That's more honest than most people would be."

A bell chimed somewhere in the distance, deep and resonant.

"Dinner bell," Jin said, standing up. "Want to check out the great hall? I heard the food here is actually decent."

The great hall was massive, with a vaulted ceiling that disappeared into shadows above. Hundreds of students sat at long tables, organized by year and ability level. The noise was incredible—laughter, conversation, the occasional magical demonstration that made silverware rattle.

Draven and Jin found seats at a table near the back, marked with a small copper plaque that read "First Year - Ember." The other students there looked like they belonged, for the most part. Quiet kids who were probably late bloomers, a few who seemed nervous but determined.

And then there was Draven.

"Is it true?" The girl sitting across from them had pale skin and silver hair that seemed to shimmer in the lamplight. "Are you really the Ashworth who couldn't awaken?"

Great. My reputation precedes me.

"Sera," Jin said warningly.

"What? I'm just curious." The girl—Sera—leaned forward. "I've never met someone who was actually powerless before. Is it like being blind, but for magic?"

"Sera!" This time it was a different voice. A girl with long blonde hair was approaching their table, looking annoyed. "Leave him alone."

"I'm just asking questions, Lyra."

Lyra. Draven looked up at the newcomer and felt his breath catch. She was beautiful in the way that made poets write stupid verses—tall and graceful, with green eyes that seemed to see right through him. But more than that, she had presence. Power. The kind of natural authority that made people listen when she talked.

She was also looking at him like he was a particularly interesting bug.

"You're Draven Ashworth," she said. It wasn't a question.

"Guilty," Draven said, trying for humor and probably failing.

"I heard about the awakening ceremony. That must have been..." She paused, searching for the right word. "Difficult."

Difficult. That's one way to put it.

"It was what it was," Draven said. "Can't change it now."

Lyra sat down next to Sera, studying Draven with those sharp green eyes. "What's your element?"

"I don't have one."

"Everyone has one. Some people just awaken late, or under stress, or—"

"Or some people are just broken," Draven interrupted. "It happens."

The table went quiet. Even Sera looked uncomfortable now.

Then Jin spoke up. "You know what I think? I think the crystal was wrong."

Everyone stared at him.

"Think about it," Jin continued. "How many people has that crystal tested? Thousands? Tens of thousands? Even the best tools break eventually. Maybe Draven's the first person to try awakening when the crystal was having an off day."

It was a kind lie, and they all knew it. But Draven appreciated the effort.

"Maybe," Lyra said diplomatically. "I suppose we'll find out during training."

Training. Right. Where I get to embarrass myself in front of everyone.

The rest of dinner passed in awkward small talk. Sera kept asking nosy questions until Lyra kicked her under the table. Jin tried to keep the conversation light. And Draven mostly just ate and tried to pretend he belonged there.

After dinner, as they were walking back to the dormitories, Jin fell into step beside him.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

"Fine," Draven lied. "Just tired."

"Look, I know this is rough. Being here when everyone knows your story. But give it time, okay? Things have a way of working out."

Easy for you to say. You can actually do magic.

But Draven nodded anyway. "Thanks. For earlier, with Cus. And for dinner. You didn't have to..."

"Yeah, I did," Jin said again. "That's what friends do."

Friends. When was the last time someone had called me that?

Back in their room, Jin fell asleep almost immediately, snoring softly from his bed by the window. But Draven lay awake, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sounds of the academy settling in for the night.

Somewhere in the distance, he could hear students practicing. Fire crackling. Wind howling. The deep rumble of earth magic.

All the things he couldn't do.

The pendant felt warm against his chest, pulsing gently like a second heartbeat. Whatever power it held, whatever secrets his grandfather had left him, he was going to need them.

Because tomorrow, the real test would begin.

And I'd better be ready for it.