Vael was so deep in his training that he didn't even notice the door creak open. His focus was absolute, his mind entangled with the strands of mana weaving through his veins. Progress was slow, agonizingly so, but progress nonetheless. All he had to do was keep working, keep pushing.
"Come on." A tap on his shoulder broke the trance. "We should really get going."
Vael opened his eyes reluctantly, his vision adjusting to the dim glow. Oculor was stretching lazily in the distance, its spectral form drifting like mist. At the door, Kiera was already waiting, her tone firm but not impatient.
"We've got ten minutes to find the banquet hall."
He exhaled a long breath, pushing himself to his feet. For an institution so obsessed with prestige, the Academy's complete lack of direction was impressive in all the wrong ways.
Oculor shrank down, curling into its compact form before slipping to its perch. Together, the two stepped into the corridor.
The hallway was alive with movement—students from their year packed shoulder to shoulder, funneled toward the same destination. Mostly commoners, buzzing with nervous chatter about the so-called celebration.
And yet, when Vael and Kiera appeared, the atmosphere shifted. The crowd instinctively parted, leaving a silent bubble around them. The memory of the exam—the crushing weight of Vael's aura, the fear it carved into bone and spirit—was still raw.
Neither of them paid much mind. They simply followed the tide of students, eyes ahead, letting it carry them toward the banquet.
Still, Vael's thoughts flickered elsewhere. Arconis was nowhere to be seen. Already inside, maybe. Or more likely, running late. Vael smirked faintly. His money was on the latter.
Since a banquet was typically a noble's affair, it was only natural for it to be hosted in the Noble Hall—a sprawling marble structure that sat apart from the rest of the Academy's facilities.
Which meant the students had to step outside to reach it.
Normally, that wouldn't have been an issue. Except…
"Great." someone muttered.
Rain. Not the gentle drizzle that came and went without notice, but a pounding downpour—each drop smacking the stone like a hammer. The sky above was a bruised black, as if the god of water had decided to make an enemy of the Academy tonight.
For most of the students, it was a nightmare. They pressed cloaks and sleeves over their heads, sprinted across puddles, and shoved each other in a desperate attempt to avoid being drenched before stepping into a hall full of nobles. Mud and water stained boots, hems, and patience alike.
But for Vael and Kiera?
BLINK.
Space folded with a whisper.
A heartbeat later, the two stood before the grand archway of the Noble Hall, dry as bone. Not a single droplet clung to their clothes or hair.
Vael adjusted his cuffs with deliberate ease, glancing back at the bedraggled mass of students still stumbling through the storm. Their glares were equal parts envy and fear, but he brushed them off like the rain he'd avoided.
"Convenient," Kiera remarked, stepping up beside him, her tone unreadable.
"Yes," Vael agreed with a smirk, pushing open the polished doors.
Inside, the glow of chandeliers and the hum of noble voices awaited.
The first thing Vael noticed was the divide.
Commoners and rebels alike wore the Academy's regulation uniform—pressed, formal, designed to give the illusion of equality. But it was an illusion only.
The nobles?
They wore whatever they pleased, of course.
The ladies paraded about in lavish dresses stitched with silk, lace, and jewels, each gown shimmering like a declaration of wealth. A single hemline, Vael thought, could probably buy out an entire farming village. Some moved as if their skirts alone weighed more than the students standing near them.
The men were no less ostentatious. Some favored the sharp lines of classic tuxedos, dark and understated in a way that screamed old power. Others went the opposite direction—extravagant coats with embroidered patterns, gilded lapels, jeweled pins, and fabrics so vibrant they seemed almost garish under the chandelier light.
Rings flashed on fingers, polished boots clicked against marble, and their every gesture seemed rehearsed for attention.
It wasn't a gathering of peers—it was a theater of superiority.
And for all their finery, the nobles still found time to glance at the uniformed students with thinly veiled disdain, as though their presence were a blemish on the polished floor.
Most commoner students were wet from the rain. Their image was already low, now it was lower.
It felt almost comical, like a master walking his dog. The master, shielded by an umbrella and careful steps. The dog? Dripping wet, shivering, tolerated only because it followed where it was told. A dog didn't need dignity. Neither did they.
Had the banquet taken place in the commoners' hall, it would've been the nobles walking in with soaked hair and dripping sleeves. But no — here they were, on enemy turf.
If Vael was honest with himself, not that many people had shown up. Or, at least, fewer than he'd expected. Maybe sixty, seventy, all told — excluding the obvious staff and teachers lurking at the edges.
The room itself was deceptively perfect. Large enough to suggest grandeur, yet narrow enough that no one could pretend this wasn't a staged performance.
Light music floated through the air. A small ensemble tucked in the corner: violin, viola, cello. Not meant to be enjoyed — meant to exist. A pleasant hum behind the laughter of nobles and the awkward silences of those who didn't belong.
No dancing. No theatrics. Just sharp voices cutting through the murmur, wine glasses clinking, and waiters flitting back and forth with drinks and tiny portions balanced on silver trays.
At least there was one convenience. The moment a soaked student stepped across the threshold, the water peeled away from them in threads of pale blue, clothes smoothing out, hair drying instantly. Runes etched into the floor, humming faintly.
But the magic only repaired fabric and skin. Pride was another matter entirely. The water stains in their dignity couldn't be wrung out.
And that, like it or not, affected all of them.