The stone gates of Deepmere Academy yawned wide as the Aethermark Forge carriage rolled through, sunlight glinting off runic inlays that told tales older than memory. Elias Corrin—mask in place, nerves ironed flat—stepped down first, flanked by Dalia, Jossan, and Taran. He swallowed, counting heartbeats as his boots touched Stonegate soil. The campus spread before them in bands of green and blue, banners rippling with the Striders' ancient crest and motto.
It was a fortress of memory: weathered statues of old captains, a stadium whose very walls seemed to pulse with the echoes of ten thousand chants. Rowan's senses, sharpened by his double life, felt the weight of centuries pressing from every stone. He thought, fleetingly, of what it meant to carry another's legacy.
The tour was brisk but thorough. The head of facilities, a stoic man named Orvek, walked them along arched walkways and down into the stadium's underbelly, pride coloring every word. "These rivers are Deepmere's life blood," he said, gesturing to the channels of living water running beneath the stands—a living vein, connecting the academy's past to every match. "They power our defenses, fuel the rituals on match day. They are the pulse beneath every cheer."
Taran whistled low. "They take legacy seriously here."
He takes legacy seriously here, Rowan thought, and I'll have to prove we do too.
Finally, they entered the headmaster's office. He was in his mid-forties, keen-eyed, bearing the marks of both warrior and scholar. His handshake was firm, words courteous but probing.
"We welcome new vision," he said, gesturing for them to sit. "But the soul of Deepmere is not for sale. Convince us you understand it."
Dalia and Jossan set up the displays; Elias began.
He started with the new Aetherstone, setting it in the center of the table, its runes flickering with subtle light. He spoke of its crafting, how every line was inspired by Deepmere's river-etched history, how the weight recalled the first stones ever thrown on these grounds. He met the headmaster's gaze, seeking any reaction. The headmaster's poker face faltered—just for a heartbeat—a slight smile could be seen in his eyes.
Next he demonstrated the new badge, how it reflected the history and heritage of the old badge, but added a new refined and modern spin to it, welcoming the coming greatness of the academy.
He moved to the kit, unveiling the deep blue and silver design, the badge pulsing with layered rune magic—a blend of power, protection, and pride. Dalia explained the symbolism; Jossan highlighted the exclusivity, the potential for legend.
A low murmur rippled through the staff. The headmaster steepled his fingers, considering. "We are impressed, Mr. Corrin. But you understand—we do not decide lightly. When our choice is made, you will be the first to know."
Elias only smiled, a flicker of mischief lighting his eyes. "Before you decide," he said, "I'd like to show you one more thing."
— Flashback: The Night Before —
Moonlight spilled into the rehearsal hall. Rowan watched Lioh tune his voice, a local orchestra warming up. Rowan himself went out into the city to meet the life blood of the academy. Hours spent composing and adjusting—the anthem was alive, ready to be sung into legend. Rowan's nerves tingled; he barely slept.
— Present: The Anthem —
Elias gave the signal. Music swelled in the corridor beyond the headmaster's office as Lioh, now dressed in the new Striders kit, stepped inside. The orchestra filled Deepmere's hallways with waves of sound—drums echoing like a storm, strings shimmering like moonlit water. Lioh's voice soared, weaving lyrics that invoked the city's soul:
From shadows carved by river stone,
We rose where others faltered,
Old scars upon the city's bone,
Yet hearts have never altered…
As the song built to its climax, a wave of academy staff and students—who'd mingled quietly among the observers—burst forward, each in the new kit, arms linked, singing the chorus in a flash mob that shook the very stones of the floors and walls.
There was no speaker, no enchantment, only the echo of hearts and the sudden, powerful rise of hundreds of voices:
Raise your voice, let thunder find us,
Striders stand, the line unbroken—
Stone and storm, the oath that binds us,
We are Striders! We are spoken!
From Deepmere's dawn to starless midnight,
Striders sing, defy the grey—
We carry home within our chestlight,
Striders! Striders! Lead the way!
A hush fell. The crowd stomped their feet, and the sound lingered until silence claimed the room.
Elias leaned in, his voice low but unwavering. "I see you—and I know the stones that shape your soul. I know the storms you've weathered, and the silent vows you've laid, brick by patient brick, into the foundation of who you are. You are not hollow, not fleeting. There is weight in you. Strider-weight. The kind that does not break when the winds rise—it drives through them. Join us, and your spirit will not merely be remembered—it will resound. It will echo across banners and bloodlines, shaking the marrow of those who witness your rise. Through our bond, your name will not fade into ash, but blaze into legend. We will make Stonegate more than a fortress—a bastion above all others—a citadel crowned by defiance, unyielding, and eternal. And you, a Strider among stones, will stand unshaken at the summit."
As the last notes faded, silence fell—then, one by one, voices rose from every corner, thousands of them. "Raise your voice, let thunder find us…" It grew, powerful and spontaneous, shaking the room as students and strangers alike linked arms and shouted the chorus together again.
A long silence followed, heavy with promise.
For a heartbeat, Elias caught Dalia's proud smile, Jossan's awed stare, Taran's subtle nod of approval.
Softly, fiercely, the headmaster finally replied: "If anything stands in your way, Elias, you come to me. We'll see it broken together."
The deal, though not yet inked, was sealed in spirit—the start of something bigger than any one academy, or even a single man's ambition.
In that thunderous moment, Rowan knew: legacy wasn't just won. It was sung into being.