The moon had begun its silent rise as Alen and Lyra stood before the towering gates of Four Pillars Martial Academy.
The wind whispered through the marble columns. Magical torches lined the outer wall, burning blue and gold, glowing with old enchantments. Around them, carriages had slowed, and latecomers like them were rushing to gain entry.
Two armored academy guards blocked the gate with their spears crossed.
"What pleasure do we owe you, gentleman?" one sneered, his gaze flicking between the pair. "Purpose of entry?"
Alen and Lyra both presented their admission scrolls, etched with the academy's divine seal.
"We were delayed," Alen said respectfully. "But we have the official decree—"
The second guard cut him off with a smirk.
"Five minutes late," he said, voice sharp. "Better luck next year."
Lyra stepped forward, anger flaring in her eyes. "We've traveled across the empire! The deadline hasn't even—!"
Suddenly, the road trembled slightly. A lavish carriage, black as night with a blue-embroidered sigil—a serpent coiled around a royal crown—glided to the front.
The guards stiffened immediately.
A pale hand extended from the curtain.
It dropped a small bag of gold marks—no words, no explanation. The guards bowed low and stepped aside without a second thought.
As the noble carriage passed, a cold voice echoed from within.
"Poor peasants. They should just sell their spots."
The insult hung in the air like poison.
Lyra's fists clenched. "What did you just say?" she snarled at the guards.
They simply laughed. "If you can't show a 'gift,' little girl, go home."
But before Lyra could explode again, Alen stepped forward.
With a calm, humble voice, he offered a crimson crest pendant and whispered something to the first guard.
The man's face turned pale. He instantly bowed, stepped aside, and opened the gate.
"T-this way, young lord…"
Alen turned to Lyra. "Let's go."
---
A Spark Ignites
As they passed through the massive iron gates, Lyra pulled him aside.
"Why did you do that?" she demanded. "We could have filed a complaint!"
Alen sighed. "Do you really think anyone here listens to complaints without power?"
She stared at him. "...Then why help me? You could've gone through anyway."
Alen looked at her, eyes unwavering.
"Because I've already fallen for you."
The wind paused.
Even the torches seemed to flicker in surprise.
Lyra froze. "Y-you're crazy. You don't know anything about me! I—my family… it's not normal. It's dangerous. You might regret it."
He stepped closer, gently brushing a lock of hair from her cheek.
"Then we're even. I haven't told you about my family either."
> "I… don't need to know," she whispered. "I think… I love you too."
She hugged him. Her hands trembled, but she didn't let go.
In that moment, beneath the night sky, the two of them made a silent promise—to protect this fragile connection, no matter what the academy or the world threw their way.
---
The Villa of Fire and Starlight
That night, a strange thing happened.
Despite being first-years, they were each assigned a noble-class villa—an anomaly, since only children of royal bloodlines or great clans were granted such luxuries.
Alen's villa was massive: a white-stone mansion with glowing mana orbs floating in the air, a private garden, and a training arena in the back. Lyra's assigned space was in the same sector, but she simply said:
"It's too lonely by myself. Can I stay with you?"
He smiled. "Always."
They settled in under the soft moonlight.
---
World Notes: The Four Pillars
The Four Pillars Martial Academy stood at the heart of Elezar, one of the floating continents of Aerthain.
It was founded by the Four Ancients—the first cultivators who defied the gods and reached the mythical state of Ascendancy. The academy taught four core paths:
Martial Cultivation (Ki, Aura, Body)
Arcane Magic (Mana, Circles, Elemental Theory)
Spirit Binding (Beast contracts, Summoning)
Divine Will (Mind, Soul, Fate)
Alen was the only known mage admitted that year.
---
The Ceremony of Stars
The next morning, bells rang across the floating island.
The Grand Hall of the academy towered above the students, its dome carved from glass-like crystal. Runes floated in the air, forming constellations above every seat.
The first-years—nearly 2,000 students—sat in silence as the Headmasters arrived.
Master Zayren, of the Martial Pillar, wore battle armor laced with dragon skin.
Mistress Elenara, of Arcane Magic, floated in midair, robes trailing stardust.
High Priest Cael, of Divine Will, wore white and gold with closed eyes and a serpent staff.
Beast King Gorran, of Spirit Binding, entered with a flaming wolf at his side.
Then the Headmaster, a serene man with gray hair and eyes like starlight, took the stage.
"Welcome, future warriors of fate. Today begins your trial. Not to surpass others—but to surpass yourselves."
"Those who climb high will touch the sky. Those who fall… will not be caught."
Alen glanced at Lyra, her eyes blazing with focus.
His heart stirred.
He knew now—this was no ordinary academy.
This was the forge of legends.
---
End of Chapter 6