The guard led Dominic through the gate. The moment they passed inside, the Crimson Arcanum Academy revealed its true form to Dominic.
Structures rose in cloistered formations, connected by covered walkways and inner courtyards.
Dark stone and deep red bricks dominated the architecture. The colors layered together like dried blood spread across ancient rock.
The buildings felt deliberate and severe, built to endure something rather than impress.
Towers rose at several points across the grounds, massive and unevenly spaced, and connected with open walkways. Each of them of course with its own purpose and presence.
Dominic slowed without realizing it.
There were symbols, lines, and unfamiliar geometries etched deep into the stone walls. Some of them were sharp and angular and the others were curved and layered into complex patterns.
Dominic felt nothing from them directly but he knew better than to dismiss them. He was certain that they carried power just like the sigils in his own hands.
While Dominic studied the academy, the guard beside him glanced over, his gaze lingering longer than necessary.
"Strange," he thought. "That pendant is real. There's no mistake about that."
His eyes drifted briefly to Dominic's chest, then to his hands, and finally to his posture.
"But this kid…"
He felt nothing unusual from him. No pressure or strong ether flow. Dominic's Bloodmark presence was also faint, barely above that of an unawakened commoner.
"He is not strong or trained at all. Nothing that stands out."
The guard frowned slightly.
"Did he steal it?"
The thought surfaced, then immediately fell apart.
"Nah, that's impossible."
Those pendants were not things one simply stole. Even drunk or unconscious, their owners would never be careless enough to let a child or anyone trick them. And if someone tried to steal one, they would not walk away alive.
The guard sighed.
"Then what is he?"
After a moment, he shook his head, deciding that this was not his problem.
His task was simple. Deliver the boy to the proper authority. Let the Headmaster decide. It was not his place to judge based on a weak aura or ragged clothing.
He had seen it before. There were talents hidden beneath dirt and poverty. Power that only revealed itself when tested.
And he had no intention of being the one punished for a wrong judgment.
They entered an open corridor that overlooked a training yard.
Dominic's eyes widened.
Below, children fought within low-fenced enclosures. Some wielded swords or spears. some used staves, blades, or weapons he couldn't immediately identify.
Their clothing was dark and tight as if designed for movement. Shouts and screams and cheers rang out. Steel clashed. Ether flared briefly, then vanished.
Dominic watched with open curiosity.
Further inside, they passed classrooms with wide windows. Inside one of those classrooms, students sat in neat semi circular rows while a teacher stood at the front with diagrams and symbols floating in the air as he explained something in a steady voice.
Dominic tried to listen, but the words blurred together.
They continued on.
The guard stopped in front of a platform set into the floor. A circular frame of metal and stone surrounded it.
"This is an elevator," the guard said.
"Hoo…" Dominic nodded with wide eyes and stepped on.
The platform hummed, then rose. The sensation made his stomach twist slightly.
He had heard of such devices before, but this was the first time he had ever ridden one.
They stopped at the third floor.
The doors opened to a long corridor lined with tall stained glass windows and polished stone walls. Their footsteps echoed as they walked.
At the end stood a large double door, carved and reinforced, taller than any door Dominic had ever seen.
The guard stopped and raised his hand.
He knocked.
A moment passed. Then a deep elderly voice answered from within.
"Come in."
The guard opened the door and stepped inside, motioning for Dominic to follow.
He stepped inside, looked around, and looked up.
The room was vast, its ceiling high enough to make the air feel distant.
At its center stood a man so tall that Dominic had to tilt his head back to look at him properly.
He was nearly three meters in height, broad shouldered and solid, like a monument statue that was alive. A thick and well kept long silver beard flowed down his chest, straight white hair fell past his shoulders.
The beard shimmered faintly.
Dominic squinted, thinking it was just the light at first. Then he realized it was real. The strands carried a silver glow of their own, subtle but unmistakable.
"Headmaster," the guard said without wasting time. "This boy possesses a Hexarch Sigil pendant."
The Headmaster's eyes shifted to Dominic.
For an instant, pressure descended on him. It was heavy, vast, and absolute, as if the air had gained weight around him.
Dominic felt pinned in place.
Then it vanished.
The Headmaster's expression changed as if his interest was replaced by neutrality.
He rose from his seat and stepped forward. His strides were long and effortless. Each step carried him several meters closer and within moments he stood directly in front of Dominic.
Up close, the size difference felt overwhelming.
The Headmaster smiled and extended his hand.
"Would you mind if I see it?"
"Not at all," Dominic said, then added quickly, "Headmaster."
He reached and placed the hexagonal pendant into the Headmaster's open palm.
The Headmaster closed his fingers around it. He studied the pendant for a brief moment then nodded to himself.
"That will be all," he said to the guard.
The guard bowed slightly and turned to leave.
The door closed behind him with a deep sound.
Dominic was alone in the room with the Headmaster.
He swallowed, suddenly aware of how quiet it had become.
"Where did you say you got this?" the headmaster asked again.
"A man g-gave it to me," Dominic stammered involuntarily. This huge man was simply too intimidating.
"Who?" The headmaster's voice was suddenly deep and suspicious.
"H-his name is Felix. We met at the Labyrinth."
"Ah!" said the headmaster, suddenly smiling. "So it was Felix. Hm… figures. Come have a seat."
Dominic followed him to his desk, then sat on the chair while the headmaster sat at his own chair.
"You must be the special kid he was talking about."
—