Silver Star City was not a city in the conventional sense. It was a colossal differential machine, a living construct existing solely for the Academy, ceaseless and precise. Perched on artificially leveled highlands, far from the industrial smoke of Ironanvil City, its ivory-and-rolled-steel spires pierced the sky like countless frozen fingers pointing at the dome above. The city's design was singular in purpose: to forge psionic warriors capable of standing against the Abyss.
The towering spires were not ornamental. Inside each, massive psionic resonance chambers and steam-core boilers pulsed with latent energy. Bronze gears and glowing runes coiling along their walls were not theatrical flair—they maintained the city's energy matrix and defensive wards. Enormous steam conduits snaked between buildings like the veins of some great beast, exhaling endless white vapor, producing a low, rhythmic roar that formed the city's eternal background hum. The air smelled of ozone, high-temperature lubricants, old parchment, and a faintly sweet alchemical incense—clean, yet suffocating.
At its core, the Academy served as the differential machine's central processor, composed of functionally distinct sectors connected by aerial bridges and enclosed track systems:
Vigil Keep (Steel Fist Hall): To the west, adjacent to an expansive outdoor training ground. Constructed of obsidian and riveted steel, it crouched like a sleeping beast. Inside, the clang of metal, armored footsteps, and suppressed roars filled the air, mingled with sweat, rust, and faint iron tangs. This was the front line: strength, discipline, and the constant battle against inner Bloodrage.Weavers' Cloister (Mindweaver's Court): To the east, tranquil and contemplative. Glass-domed courtyards and spiral meditation towers rose from white marble and stained glass. Psionic ripples and hushed whispers drifted through the air. Here, insight, control, and mental fortitude were honed, shielded from Abyssal intrusion.Central Hub (Gear Plaza): The absolute heart. Libraries (shelves driven by gear mechanisms), tiered lecture halls, and alchemy workshops clustered here. At the plaza's center turned a massive differential model, never ceasing its motion. Gear teeth meshed in a relentless symphony, symbolizing the Academy's logic and order.Auxiliary and Servant Quarters (Ash Courtyard): On the city's periphery, near protective walls and giant boilers. Low, crude structures built from rough bricks and scavenged metal. Coal smoke, machine fumes, and human sweat permeated the air. These were the quarters for auxiliaries like Lionel—a shadow beneath the city's polished surface, also a hub for unofficial trade and clandestine dealings.
Elara Thorne's "assigned" residence was a mid-tier tower room along the edge of the Weavers' Cloister. Sparse, almost cruel: a narrow bed, a desk, a wardrobe. A slit of a window framed the immense gear bridge spanning Ash Canyon, with Ironanvil City's distant silhouette brooding beyond—a silent reminder that she was inside a sanctuary and yet still within a cage.
Her instincts immediately noticed an anomaly: a tiny crystal embedded in the base of a brass candlestick on her desk emitted a faint, unwavering psionic signal. A monitoring node. Kaelan's reach, omnipresent even here.
The Academy's five-year program was rigorously stratified:
Foundational Years (1–2): General courses—Kingdom History and Abyssal Origins, Principles of Psionic Geometry—with the highest attrition.Specialization Years (3–4): Advanced courses tailored to sequences and tiers, paired with intense practical training.Graduation Year (5): Preparatory exams and choice of futures—join the Kingdom's forces, accept recruitment by the Magic Association, or become an instructor. Exceptional students might be recruited by the Royal House or the Five Great Families.
As a Tier-Two Acolyte, Elara's apparent path had already been laid by Kaelan: learn to soothe, build psychic links, and serve as his docile, competent aide—protected, tightly controlled.
"Five years…" she whispered, fingers tracing the desk's faint vibrations, present in every surface. Her aquamarine eyes were not submissive; they were calculating, resolute.
Direct flight was no longer feasible. This ivory tower was simultaneously cage and shield. Her plan crystallized, dangerous yet clear:
Master orthodox knowledge voraciously: Especially history and Abyssal studies. To understand the rules of the world, her opponents, and to provide a legitimate cover for her otherworldly knowledge.Rebuild the witch's workshop in shadows: Ghost-like, utilizing low-tier channels to gather ingredients and craft more potent, stealthy elixirs. In a city teeming with dangers, figures like the Shadow Brotherhood and Silas were inevitable.Exploit all accessible resources: Libraries, alchemy labs, overlooked corners—anything potentially useful. Convert knowledge into power without exposure.
This cage of gears and magic would be her new chessboard for survival. She would need more cunning, more subtlety than ever, to pursue her forbidden awakening under the watchful eyes of the world.