The mechanical chime of Amber's pocket watch shattered the pre-dawn silence—a delicate bell sound that the Academy artificers called an "alarm clock," though the term felt awkward on the tongue.
She channeled a trickle of mana into the glowing orb mounted on her wall. Warm candlelight flooded her bedroom, chasing shadows into corners. Outside her window, rain drummed against glass in an insistent rhythm.
Amber crossed to the window and opened it, letting cold air wash over her face.
The downpour came heavy and relentless, turning the Academy grounds into a grey wash of mist and water. Distant lightning split the sky, followed seconds later by thunder that rolled across the forest like a warning.
"Damn the heavens," she muttered, glaring at the storm clouds.
She stood there, letting rain spatter against her nightgown, watching the misty forest blur and sharpen with each lightning flash. The world felt vast and empty at this hour—just her and the storm and the silent weight of everything she carried.
Resting her forehead against the cool window frame, she whispered into the darkness. "Mother..."
Amber Lumis, fifteenth Princess of the Radiant Empire.
Born to the Emperor's seventh son—Prince Gallian of the Southern Territories—her bloodline was high enough to command respect but distant enough to be irrelevant. She'd grown up watching the vicious succession battles from the safety of the periphery, shielded from the worst backstabbing that consumed her elder cousins.
With dozens of siblings and cousins competing for favor, Amber had never been close to the throne. Her title carried ceremonial weight, nothing more.
Yet she understood the game well enough. Even "extra" princesses could become pivotal—not as rulers, but as pawns, diplomats, marriage alliances. Tools for others to wield.
And she was strong enough to matter. She could stand before Prince Alex—the monster of her generation, son of the crown prince—and not be completely dismissed. That counted for something.
But I never wanted any of this. All these expectations. All these eyes watching, waiting for me to be useful, or disappear.
Unbidden, a memory surfaced: running barefoot around Lake Silvermere, fishing pole in hand, laughing with the village children who didn't know or care about her title. Sun-warmed stones beneath her feet. The simple joy of catching a fish with her own hands and cooking it over an open fire.
Will I ever feel that free again?
Without warning, Valentine Ashford's face flashed through her mind—that infuriating, lazy and indifferent smile he wore like armor against the world.
Amber exhaled sharply, pushing away from the window. "I should leave."
She dressed quickly: thick woolen undershirt, leather jacket reinforced with subtle protective enchantments, waterproof leather boots that came to her knees, and a heavy oiled cloak that would shed rain. The bag she'd packed last night sat waiting by the door—provisions, first aid supplies, spare clothes, protective artifacts, Core Crystals for emergencies.
Everything a competent mage needed for wilderness survival.
Only by becoming strong can I be free, she thought, slinging the bag over her shoulder. Strong enough that nobody can use me. Strong enough to choose my own path.
From a distant window in the mansion, Cassian watched her leave. She didn't look back.
The sun had risen by the time Amber reached the Eastern Gate, though the storm clouds made morning feel like twilight.
Beyond the gate lay unpatrolled wilderness—the true Dawn Forest, not the carefully maintained garden where entrance examinations were held. No instructors supervised out there. No safety measures. Just monsters, Blight corruption, and students who thought themselves ready.
The gate complex sprawled like a small town: a central plaza surrounded by clustered buildings of varying sizes. Stables, supply shops, medical stations, the Mission Board outpost. On one side, the entrance archway from campus. On the other, massive gates set into walls that stretched in both directions, separating civilization from wild.
At least there are no known Rank 4 monsters in the permitted zones, Amber thought, studying the gate's defensive runework. Small mercies.
Unlike the quiet residential districts, the plaza buzzed with activity despite the early hour. Merchants hawked goods from tent-shops—protective charms, enchanted weapons, preserved food, healing potions of dubious quality. Students in groups checked equipment, argued over route plans, or negotiated with local guides offering their services.
The whole space carried the atmosphere of a frontier market: opportunistic, slightly dangerous, thriving on the desperation and ambition of young mages seeking to prove themselves.
Amber navigated through the crowd, scanning faces for a particular lazy Ashford who was probably still asleep—
A commotion drew her attention to the northern section of the plaza.
A relatively large crowd had gathered around one stall, voices raised in excitement. Curiosity piqued, Amber made her way over, shouldering through rough-looking students who smelled of wet leather and old sweat.
At the center: a small-scale auction.
A woman with sharp features and sharper eyes stood on a raised platform, gesturing dramatically at the items displayed before her. "Come, mages and warriors! We have treasures for both first-time adventurers and experienced hunters!"
Street auction, Amber recognized. Scavenged goods, probably. Half legitimate salvage, half stolen property.
"Our next item!" the auctioneer proclaimed, lifting a sword that caught the weak sunlight. "An ancient Azure-Iron blade, recovered from the Dawn Forest itself! Forged from Azure Iron found near the Narrow Sea, polished to perfection!"
Amber's eyes narrowed, focusing on the weapon.
She'd traveled to the eastern coast with her mother twice. True Azure Iron didn't tarnish. It held enchantments better than steel, resisted corrosion even when submerged in saltwater for years. The blades her mother's guard carried gleamed blue-grey and never needed polishing.
This sword? Maybe ten percent Azure Iron, if that. The rest was common steel with blue coloring added.
"Bidding starts at five Low Rank Core Crystals!"
"Six!"
"Seven!"
"Nine!"
Amber watched the proceedings with mild contempt. Fools bidding against each other for glorified scrap metal.
And that lazy Ashford isn't even here yet, she thought, checking the sun's position. Probably still asleep.
After the sword sold for twelve Crystals—twice its actual value—the auctioneer paused, letting the crowd shift. Some winners left to claim their purchases. New faces pushed forward, drawn by the excitement.
Ten minutes later, she began again.
"Come, mages and warriors! Next item: a Ghost Catcher!" She held up a pocket watch-sized artifact, chains dangling from its clasp. "The Dawn Forest, despite its cheerful name, harbors many undead. Ghosts are particularly difficult opponents. With this Ghost Catcher, you can successfully capture a Rank 1 evil spirit!"
"Only Rank 1?" someone shouted skeptically.
The auctioneer barely faltered. "With sufficient skill and mana reserves, higher Rank captures are possible. The tool is only as limited as its wielder."
Clever deflection, Amber noted. Blame the user, not the defective product.
She closed her eyes, then reopened them. Her irises blazed amber-gold, the Lumis Eye bloodline ability activating.
Mana flows became visible—faint threads of energy tracing through objects like veins of light. She focused on the Ghost Catcher.
The artifact's enchantment structure appeared in her enhanced vision: containment runes arranged in a standard spirit-binding pattern, a fractured power core that explained the "slight damage" the auctioneer mentioned, activation channels that would drain a Core Crystal rapidly...
And something else.
Wait.
There was already a ghost sealed inside the artifact—a faint, compressed spiritual presence coiled like a spring.
What's it doing there? Storage? Bait? Or is this a trap artifact that releases the ghost to possess whoever activates it?
Without thinking, Valentine's face flashed through her mind again. He'd mentioned wanting to study spirits for spell research. Something about understanding possession mechanics.
No, Amber told herself firmly. Why should I buy this for him? He's lazy, mysterious, and infuriating. Let him acquire his own research materials.
"Bidding starts at three Low Rank Core Crystals!"
The crowd's enthusiasm had cooled. Ghost Catchers had limited utility—only effective at close range when a spirit was actively attempting possession. Spirit Ward spells provided broader protection and weren't single-use. Most competent mages preferred the spell.
"Four," a voice called from the crowd.
Amber's head snapped toward the speaker.
Raylan stood with his party—Marcus and Elara flanking him—examining the Ghost Catcher with obvious interest.
These three again!
Something competitive flared in Amber's chest. The protagonist trio, always appearing where opportunities presented themselves. Always succeeding through some combination of luck and instinct.
I can outbid a commoner easily, she thought. And... maybe Valen would find it useful. Not as a gift! Just... practical resource allocation.
"Five," Amber called, voice low but clear.
Heads turned. Raylan's expression cycled through surprise, confusion, and calculation. He met her eyes across the crowd, hesitant.
Then he raised his hand. "Six."
Amber's jaw tightened. How dare—
She started to raise her hand again, competitive instinct overriding reason—
A hand settled on her shoulder.
She spun, finding Valentine's calm face regarding her with that infuriating half-smile.
"Seems like you're having a heated morning," he said mildly.
"Look who managed to appear," Amber retorted, turning away with an audible huff.
She lifted her hand to bid again—
"We don't need a Ghost Catcher," Valen interrupted. "I already know the Spirit Ward spell."
Amber froze, hand half-raised. "What? I thought you needed an actual ghost to learn that spell. Study one to understand the mechanics. How did you manage without—"
"I have my methods."
"Stop being mysterious," Amber snapped. "You don't even leave your room most days. How would you—"
"Sold!" The auctioneer's voice rang out. "To the bidder for six Low Rank Core Crystals!"
"Oh no—"
"This is your fault!" Amber glared at Valen. "I would have won if you hadn't—"
Valen gave her that innocent smile that somehow made everything worse. "Why did you need it anyway?"
"Nothing," Amber said shortly, turning away. "Let's just go."
Behind Valen's calm expression, Iris's voice whispered through their mental link: "Excellent work, Master. I was monitoring her since she entered the gate complex."
"Good work. If she'd actually bought that artifact, she'd have taken the main protagonist's opportunity. And, likely become his enemy again."
"Hehehe. Always two steps ahead!"
Amber was already walking toward the gate, shoulders stiff with irritation.
"Are you coming or not?" she called without looking back.
"Yes, yes," Valen replied, following at his usual unhurried pace.
The Eastern Gate loomed ahead, and beyond it, the true wilderness waited.