Draven woke up to Jin shaking his shoulder and sunlight streaming through their window.
"Come on," Jin said, already dressed and ready. "Entrance examination starts in an hour. You don't want to be late on your first day." Actually, being late sounds pretty good right now. But Draven dragged himself out of bed anyway, his stomach churning with nerves. The pendant under his nightshirt felt heavier than usual, like it was reminding him it was there. The academy's training grounds were even more impressive in daylight. Multiple arenas spread out across several acres, each one designed for different types of magic. There was a fire pit surrounded by heat-resistant stones, a water arena with pools and fountains, an earth circle covered in sand and loose rocks. The air arena was just an open field, but Draven could see wind barriers shimmering at the edges. And in the center of it all was the main platform where the entrance examinations were being held. "Nervous?" Jin asked as they joined the crowd of first-year students. "Terrified," Draven admitted. "You?" "A little. But my dad always said the only way to fail is to not try." Jin grinned. "Course, he also said that about eating my vegetables, so maybe don't take his advice too seriously." Despite everything, Draven found himself smiling. Having Jin around made this whole nightmare slightly more bearable. The examinations started with the advanced students—kids who'd already demonstrated significant power during their awakening ceremonies. Draven watched a girl create a miniature tornado that lifted sand fifty feet into the air. A boy summoned lightning that split the air with thunder. Another student grew a tree from a seed in thirty seconds. "Show-offs," Jin muttered, but he sounded impressed despite himself. "Next group," called Master Thorne, the instructor Draven had seen the night before. He was a thin man with gray hair and eyes that missed nothing. "Intermediate level. If your name is called, step forward." Lyra's name was among the first called. She walked onto the platform like she owned it, confident and graceful. When she raised her hands, the wind responded immediately, creating complex patterns in the air that looked almost like dancing ribbons. "Very good, Miss Stormwind," Master Thorne said, making notes on his tablet. "Advanced placement in wind manipulation. Report to Master Aeliana for your class assignments." Lyra caught Draven's eye as she left the platform and gave him what might have been an encouraging nod. Or maybe she was just being polite. It was hard to tell. More names were called. More demonstrations of power that made Draven feel smaller and smaller. Even the kids who seemed nervous managed to produce impressive displays of their abilities. "Sera Nightwhisper," Master Thorne called. The silver-haired girl from dinner walked onto the platform, and suddenly the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. Shadows began moving independently of their casters, reaching toward her like living things. She gestured, and the shadows formed into shapes—first a wolf, then a bird, then something that might have been a dragon. Shadow magic. No wonder she seemed so mysterious. "Interesting," Master Thorne murmured. "Advanced shadow manipulation is quite rare. Report to Master Nyx for specialized training." Sera smiled as she left the platform, but it wasn't a nice smile. It was the kind of smile that made you wonder what she was really thinking. "Basic level examinations," Master Thorne announced. "These are for students whose awakening ceremonies showed minimal power, or who experienced late awakening. Jin Ironforge." Jin squeezed Draven's shoulder before walking onto the platform. "Wish me luck." At least he has something to demonstrate. Jin's earth magic was solid and practical—no fancy displays, but he made the ground ripple like water and shaped stone with his bare hands. Nothing flashy, but impressive in its own way. "Adequate," Master Thorne said. "Basic earth manipulation with some advanced potential. Report to Master Gareth." Jin looked relieved as he rejoined Draven. "Not bad, right? I mean, I didn't embarrass myself." "You did great," Draven said, and meant it. But his own name was coming up soon. He could feel it. "Cus Thornfield," Master Thorne called. The redhead from yesterday strutted onto the platform like he was expecting applause. And honestly, he probably deserved it. When he raised his hands, fire erupted around him in a perfect sphere, hot enough that Draven could feel the heat from fifty feet away. The flames danced and twisted, forming shapes and patterns that were genuinely beautiful. "Excellent control," Master Thorne said, and Draven could hear the approval in his voice. "Advanced fire manipulation. Report to Master Pyrus immediately." Cus caught Draven's eye as he left the platform, his expression smug. "And finally," Master Thorne said, consulting his list. "Draven Ashworth." The training ground went quiet. Not completely—there were still students practicing in the distance, and the wind was still blowing—but the immediate area around the examination platform fell silent as everyone turned to look at him. Here we go. Draven's legs felt like lead as he walked onto the platform. The stone under his feet was smooth and warm from all the magic that had been used on it throughout the morning. "Now then, Mr. Ashworth," Master Thorne said, his voice carefully neutral. "I understand your awakening ceremony was... unusual. But often power manifests under stress, or when we're pushed beyond our normal limits. Please, show us what you can do." What I can do. Right. Draven closed his eyes and reached deep inside himself, searching for even the tiniest spark of elemental power. Fire, like his brothers. Earth, like Jin. Wind, like Lyra. Shadow, like Sera. Hell, he'd take water at this point. Nothing. He tried harder, straining until sweat beaded on his forehead. The pendant felt warm against his chest, but that was probably just his imagination. Still nothing. "Take your time," Master Thorne said, but Draven could hear the pity creeping into his voice. Come on. Please. Just a little spark. Just enough to prove I'm not completely worthless. But his hands remained ordinary. No fire. No lightning. No wind or earth or water or shadow. Just flesh and bone and desperation. The silence stretched on. Students were starting to whisper among themselves. Some of them were snickering. "I..." Draven's voice cracked. "I can't. There's nothing there." Master Thorne set down his tablet and walked over to him. "Mr. Ashworth, it's quite common for students to experience performance anxiety during their first examination. Why don't you try focusing on a single element? Perhaps fire, given your family's traditional affinity?" Traditional affinity. Right. The thing I don't have. But Draven tried anyway, holding out his hands and willing fire to appear. He thought about candles, about fireplaces, about his brothers' casual displays of power. His hands remained cold and empty. "Maybe earth?" Master Thorne suggested. "It's often easier for beginners. Very stable, very forgiving." Draven knelt and pressed his palms against the stone platform, begging it to respond. Move. Change. Do something. Anything. The stone might as well have been dead for all the response he got. By now, the whispers were getting louder. And some of them weren't whispers anymore. "Is he actually powerless?" "How did he even get into the academy?" "This is embarrassing." "Should someone stop this?" Master Thorne looked genuinely uncomfortable now. "Mr. Ashworth, perhaps—" He stood up and waved his hands in the air, trying to call the wind. Nothing. He gestured toward the fountain at the edge of the training ground, trying to move the water. Nothing. "Pathetic," someone said loud enough for everyone to hear. Draven didn't need to look to know it was Marcus. "That's enough," Master Thorne said firmly. "Mr. Ashworth, please step down from the platform." Please step down from the platform. Like he was a circus act that had gone on too long. The walk off the platform felt longer than the walk to the awakening crystal had three months ago. At least then, there had been hope. Now there was just the crushing certainty that everyone was right about him. He was hollow. "Well, that was something," Sera said as he rejoined Jin. She didn't sound mean, exactly, but she didn't sound kind either. Just... curious. Like he was an interesting specimen. "Leave him alone," Jin said sharply. "I'm not trying to be cruel. I'm just fascinated. I've read about people like him, but I never thought I'd actually meet one." People like him. Like he was a different species. "What happens now?" Draven asked Master Thorne, who had followed him off the platform. The instructor looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. "Well, normally we assign students to classes based on their demonstrated abilities. But in your case..." He trailed off, clearly struggling. "I'll be in remedial classes," Draven said. "I get it." "Not remedial, exactly. More like... theoretical. You'll study the history and theory of magic, even if you can't practice it yourself. There's value in understanding, even without ability." The consolation prize. Great. "What about combat training?" Jin asked. "I mean, everyone has to take basic self-defense, right?" Master Thorne winced. "That might not be appropriate for Mr. Ashworth. The combat classes are designed around integrating magic with physical techniques. Without magic..." "I'll just get hurt," Draven finished. "Or hurt someone else by accident. Magic combat can be dangerous when there's a power imbalance." Power imbalance. That's one way to put it. The rest of the day passed in a blur of humiliation. While other students were sorted into proper classes with actual training, Draven was led to a small classroom in the basement of the academic building. The room smelled like dust and disappointment, and his only classmates were a handful of kids who looked even more miserable than he felt. "Welcome to Theoretical Magic Studies," said the instructor, a tired-looking woman who introduced herself as Professor Elmsworth. "This class is for students who, for various reasons, are unable to participate in practical magic training." Unable. Not 'haven't learned yet' or 'need more time.' Unable. The lesson was about the history of elemental magic in the kingdom. Draven tried to pay attention, but his mind kept drifting to the platform, to the silence, to the whispers and snickers. This is my life now. Sitting in a basement, learning about things I'll never be able to do. After class, Jin was waiting for him in the hallway. "How was it?" Jin asked, though his expression suggested he already knew. "Educational," Draven said. "Did you know that fire magic was first discovered by accident when a mage sneezed during a lightning spell?" "Draven..." "It's fine, Jin. Really. This is just... this is who I am." But it wasn't fine. None of it was fine. And as they walked back to their dorm through corridors filled with students practicing magic, Draven felt the pendant pulse against his chest. Soon, it seemed to whisper. Soon you'll understand. Understand what? he thought back. How to be an even bigger disappointment? But deep down, in a part of himself he was afraid to acknowledge, a tiny spark of hope still flickered. Maybe there was more to his grandfather's gift than he'd realized. Maybe his story wasn't over yet. Maybe tomorrow will be different. It had to be. Because he wasn't sure he could survive many more days like thisLatest Chapter
Chapter 272
He walked into the forest alone, which he wasn't supposed to do. Lyra would have a great deal to say about it. Two weeks, she'd said, and it had been ten days, and here he was past the east treeline with his splinted arm against his chest and no one knowing where he'd gone. He'd needed the quiet. Since the tremor, since the north, the academy had been full of low urgent voices and maps on tables and Zephyr's people coming and going, and he'd wanted, for one afternoon, to hear nothing but his own feet in the leaves. A year ago he'd been nothing. He made himself remember it honestly. The youngest Ashworth. The one his father didn't look at. The one who couldn't hold a flame steady, who'd stood in the training yard while boys half his talent laughed. Then the garrison. Then the pendant waking against his chest for the first time, the fire pouring out of him, everything changing in a single night. He stopped walking. He put his good hand flat against a tree and let himself ask the que
Chapter 271
He put it off for three days, and then he ran out of reasons.The paper had been sitting on the desk in his room the whole time, blank, weighed down by an inkpot he kept not opening. Lyra had asked twice if he'd written yet. Sera had stopped asking and just started leaving the pen somewhere he'd see it, which was worse, because it meant she knew exactly why he kept not doing it.He sat down. He opened the inkpot. He wrote *Jin* at the top and then looked at it for a while.*You've been gone eleven days and Zephyr has cried four times. I'm keeping count so you can settle the bet you two had. He says twice. It was four. I have witnesses.*That was easier than he'd expected. He kept going.*Lyra took the healers' hall. She rearranged it in an afternoon and made the old senior man write down his own mistakes. She put us in her contract, did you know that? An actual clause. If any of us breaks something she gets to leave and come fix it. She made them put it in ink. She'll never say it out
Chapter 270
Far to the north the cold had teeth, and Rosanora did not feel it.She knelt in a hollow of black ice at the bottom of a crevasse no living thing had walked in a thousand years, pressed her bare hand to the seal, and struck it. Not with force. With intent. One press of her palm that carried her whole will down through the stone, and then she waited, counting the long slow count she'd been counting for months, and struck again.The seal was old.. It was a slab of something that wasn't quite rock and wasn't quite metal, and across its face ran lines of a script that had no living readers, and behind it, on the far side, in the dark, something was starting to listen.She could feel it listening. That was the thing that would have broken a lesser will. Most people, feeling the attention of what waited behind that seal, would have run until their hearts gave out. Rosanora leaned her forehead against the cold face of it and smiled like she was greeting an old friend."Not yet," she murmured
Chapter 269
She felt it before the sun was fully up.Sera was in the courtyard the way she was every morning now, on her knees with both palms flat against the cold stone. The academy was still asleep above her. A bird was starting up somewhere in the eaves above her. Her breath came out in a thin white curl and hung and faded.Then the ground said something back. She could feel it in her bones.She went still, the way you go still when you think you've heard your name in another room. She pressed her palms flatter, spread her fingers, leaned her weight down into them until the cold bit into her skin.There.A pulse. Deep, and far, so far north it was almost past the edge of what she could reach, a place she'd never felt anything from before. And it had a rhythm. That was the wrong part. Rock didn't have a rhythm. Water didn't. This was a thing being struck, over and over.She knew that rhythm.Her stomach dropped out of her.She'd felt it once before, faint, months ago, the night before they'd g
Chapter 268
The next day it was Lyra’s turn to depart.Lyra took the healers' hall on a Tuesday.There was no ceremony, which was exactly why she liked it. She walked into the eastern hall that morning as the person who ran it instead of the person visiting it, and by midday she'd rearranged the supply room, reassigned two apprentices who'd been standing around looking useful, and told the senior healer who'd run the place for thirty years exactly three things she intended to change. He'd started to argue. Then he'd looked at her face and stopped and written them down.Draven came by in the afternoon and found her at a long table covered in patient records, sleeves pushed up, a pen behind her ear and another in her hand."You've been here six hours," he said. "It already looks like yours.""It is mine," she said, not looking up. "That's the point of the contract." She made a note in a margin. "The whole east wing was running on habit. Nobody had checked whether the habits still made sense in year
Chapter 267
Jin left on a grey morning that couldn't decide if it wanted to rain.The Academy exchange started in a week, which meant three days of travel, which meant leaving now, and Jin had packed the night before in the way Jin packed, which was to put everything he owned in one bag and sit on it until it closed. He came down to the gate with the bag over one shoulder and the whole rest of them already there, because none of them had been able to pretend they were going to let him go without a scene.Zephyr was crying."I'm not," Zephyr said, wiping his face. "This is the weather. It's the weather in my eyes.""It's not raining yet," Sera said."It's about to. My eyes are ahead of the sky." He grabbed Jin and hugged him hard, and Jin stood there with his arms at his sides and let it happen. "You'd better write. I ran eleven hours of wind for you. That buys letters.""I'll write," Jin said."You won't," Zephyr said, releasing him. "You're going to get to Titan Academy and fight everyone and fo
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