The skies above Aetherreach shimmered with dancing streams of raw magic, forming intricate patterns that arced over the Academy's Grand Arena. Banners of all six Constellations billowed proudly from the tallest spires, and the coliseum itself was filled with tens of thousands—students, nobles, scholars, merchants, and even foreign dignitaries.
This wasn't just an academy tournament.
It was the event of the season.
Lucian stood with the rest of his class behind the inner gates of the Arena, clad in a new uniform marked with silver-threaded accents and the crest of his class—Aether Class. He glanced upward through the portcullis, catching a glimpse of the floating crystal obelisk pulsing with energy above the crowd. His heart thumped.
The roar of the audience felt like a tidal wave, distant yet deafening.
"Hey," came a voice beside him. It was Riven Caldros, a broad-shouldered student with dark red eyes and sharp features, his facial sigil burning faintly with the Fire Constellation's mark. "Try not to faint during the introduction. The nobles in the stands are known to mock the weak."
Lucian didn't reply. He simply nodded and took a breath.
Then came a gentler voice from the other side—Elara Vynn, her long dark-blue braid tucked neatly behind her shoulder. Her Sea Sigil glimmered under her left eye. "Ignore him. You'll do fine. We all know you ranked top five in the preliminary evaluations."
Lucian managed a small smile. Elara was one of the few students who treated him like a peer.
A booming voice rang across the arena from a floating podium: "Let the Opening Ceremony begin!"
The gates groaned open.
One by one, students from each class and year stepped onto the coliseum floor, greeted by roaring applause or polite nods depending on their family name. Aether Class walked last—every eye in the arena drawn to the elite.
When Lucian stepped into the light, gasps followed.
Silver hair gleamed under the sun.
Golden eyes shimmered unnaturally.
No visible Sigil.
"Is he… marked at all?" someone whispered.
"He's that one from the countryside, right?"
"I heard his wind control is insane…"
He ignored them all and kept walking, joining his class in formation.
The headmaster appeared, his voice magically projected.
"Welcome to the 137th Aetherreach Tournament. This is more than a test of strength—this is a trial of the soul. Your Constellations watch. Your future awaits. Fight not only to win—but to grow."
The ground began to shift.
Six rings of stone rose from the earth, forming six separate arenas suspended by hovering platforms. Magical runes glowed underneath, setting the field for the first trials.
"Elimination rounds begin tomorrow," the headmaster said. "Tonight, you rest. Tomorrow, you prove."
The crowd erupted again, but Lucian could barely hear it.
His gaze drifted toward the sky—toward something unseen.
Somewhere, in the unseen corners of this shining capital, darkness was watching.
And waiting.