The Grand Amphitheatre vibrated like a living heart.
His bleachers, full to the brim, rustled with impatient whispers. The heirs of the upper classes, dressed in golden and silver regalia, were already observing the 'new' with a curious contempt. To them, we were nothing more than cattle thrown into an arena except for a few.
In the center, we were aligned: a hundred black silhouettes under the uniform. The marble of the ground radiated a golden glow, and the runes inscribed in the stone pulsated to the rhythm of our hearts.
A mentor stepped forward.
An old man, a figure marked by training and fighting. His voice cracked like a whip.
— Welcome to Aurora Protophetos, for your baptism of fire we will initially carry out the 'Resonance' test. During this test, the Thorn will speak for you. She will decide if you have the right to stay... or if you don't even deserve to spend the night under this roof.
He raised his hand. The silence fell.
— Some of you will be broken. Others, consumed by apoptosis. Do not seek to fight. Either your Spine accepts resonance... either she will reject you and consume you.
The first heir was led to the center.
Tall and robust, square jaw, confident look. He placed his hand on the crystal standing in front of him: a black luminous stele crossed by golden veins.
The light burst forth. A wave propagated in the arena, resonating in our breasts. The boy let out a shrill cry, his veins lit up, and behind him a form of aura appeared: a silhouette of steel, stable, clear.
The bleachers approved with a whisper.
— Accepted, said the mentor.
The boy sat up, panting, but proud.
The second heir entered. A thin girl, with black hair. She in turn placed her hand. The light burst forth again, but this time it trembled unsteadily. The stele vibrated... then exploded into crystal shards.
The girl screamed in pain. Her body twitched, blood spouted from her mouth. She collapsed net, dead even before touching the ground.
Silence fell on the arena.
Then a snicker rose from the upper tiers.
— One less...
The mentor did not flinch for a single second. She had died too young but this world did not give any gifts, they gave no comfort nor any illusion. I had never seen anything so horrible, however, my fate worried me more than his...
— Eliminated... next!
One by one, the students were passing. Some collapsed, spit out by their own Épine: not yet ready to move on to the next step. Others held more or less proudly and others found death. Every success, every failure resonated in our hearts, we who were the next ones.
After the resonance, the heirs having passed the test were immediately led to the first duels.
Because the Resonance was not enough. They also tested our physical and technical abilities in combat, to gauge our value in a real confrontation.
I saw a massive boy, his shoulders striped with black veins, facing a girl twice as small whose aura emanated like a storm. The fight was brief. A blow to the face launched at full power. The massive boy crashed to the ground, and her blood spilled like a shining pond.
Applause. Jeers. Total indifference.
Here, death was not a tragedy. It was a statistic to consider.
I would clench my fists.
My heart was beating too hard, fear, stress, death was omnipresent like an opportunistic neighbor, it was necessary to recover and quickly.
Every duel, every scream reminded me of the same thing: Aurora was not just an elitist school. It was a furnace. A forge where the weak burned to feed the strong.
And soon it would be my turn.
I raised my head, sweeping the bleachers.
I met his gaze, among all these heirs he was the one who stood out the most, all these tests were just platitudes for him.
This boy with the perfect posture, with platinum curly blond hair
hadn't needed a word to crush me with his contempt the day before. His eyes shone like blades. He only smiled at glory. He already knew that he would crush me with a simple gesture.
Further on, I felt the biting cold of the girl with white hair, her eyes a frozen blue planted on me since my arrival like on an unpleasant stain.
And on the opposite, another silhouette. It was this slender girl, with dark bobbed hair, whose eyes shone like two golden mirrors. She was still staring at me. But his gaze... was not hostile, rather curious.
My stomach was tightening, all this pressure was choking me, judgment, contempt, expectation.
The resonance continued followed by duels, shouts, deaths.
And each beat of my heart brought me closer to the moment when I should place my hand on the crystal.
The instructor raised his hand.
— Next.
My name echoed.
— Iron Vongold.
All eyes turned towards me. The whispers burst, dry laughter erupted.
— The spectrum of Velathor is it him...?
— He who steals, it seems...
— Let's see how long it floats before crashing.
I took a step. Then another one.
Every step echoed in the arena, the pressure pounding my bones.
The black crystal awaited me, its golden veins pulsating like a living heart.
I finally reached out my hand.
The Spine vibrates in my chest.
Then I put my hand on the crystal.
It was cold. Cold as a tombstone that had waited for me all my life.
A shiver moved up my arm, then into my chest.
My Thorn replied immediately.
And everything exploded.
The light burst first like a crack in the glass: dark red, golden, shards gushing like blood. Then the crack widens. I felt my bones crack, my veins burn.
The pain returned. The same as at the hospital. The same as when Simon hit my heart to wake up the Thorn.
Except that this time, she wasn't snatching me. She was freeing me.
The entire floor vibrated. The marble split under my feet. Pieces of dust rose, caught by my aura.
I no longer controlled anything.
Fractures opened around me. One, two, five, ten... as if my own power showed me the extent of its apogee. Simple blades came out of them, they were spinning, gaping, like hungry mouths coming from another time it seemed as if they had already served.
A blade of fire tore from the nearest fissure and began to swirl around me. Another, like a storm, crackled with a violent breath, as if the air itself had broken.
The bleachers exploded with whispers. Some stood up, incredulous.
— Incredible...
— Blades?... Does he have that kind of power?
— What is...
I didn't know what my power meant but it gave a magnificent show.
And then, everything I had remembered since the accident surged forth.
The hatred of my mother.
The laughter of my false friends.
The cold of the hospital.
The nothingness of those aimless days.
All this broke in a silent howl. My howl.
The crystal flew to pieces, pulverized. The fragments froze in the air, suspended by my aura, before falling back into a sparkling rain.
The fracture spread further, and a rumble shook the entire amphitheater.
Then it was over.
I fell back to my knees, panting. The blades went out one by one, dissipating into luminous particles like broken glass. The marble was split around me, burned in places, destroyed by others.
Once the eyes are raised.
The silence.
The entire bleachers stared at me. Some open-mouthed. Others pale, tense, as if they had seen a beast coming out of its cage.
Then the whispers came back.
Stronger. Sharper.
— Is it possible to break the crystal?...
— It was fucking crazy...
— It's not normal for a simple Protophetos to be able to do that...
— It seems that he has only awakened his thorn for a few months...
I saw the scornful laughter of the day before fading on some faces.
Others, on the contrary, stared at me with even darker hatred.
But among them, I caught something else.
A look.
That of the boy with the perfect posture, with ivory blonde hair, sitting among the highest ranks. He did not laugh.
He was studying me.
Further on, the white-haired girl revealed an annoyed look. Her icy aura intensified, as if she already refused what her eyes had seen.
And finally... the slim figure with dark hair.
She was smiling. A fine, ambiguous smile that scared me more than all the threats.
The mentor raised his voice, covering up the whispers:
— Iron Vongold... Resonance accepted.
Applause erupted from certain bleachers.
No encouragement. No joy.
Cold applause, like those reserved for a gladiator who has survived one more round.
I stood up, my breath burning, the fracture still thrilling in my chest.
I wasn't dead.
I had spit in the face of this arena.
But I already knew that this victory would not save me.
On the contrary. She had just painted a target on my back.
The mentor snapped his fingers.
The Resonance was closed. Those who had survived were still breathing with difficulty, but no one gave them respite. Already, the doors opened, revealing a smaller arena within the Grand Amphitheatre.
— Place now to combat trials. Here, says the mentor, your abilities will speak. Your fists, your weapons, your thorns. No excuse will be tolerated.
A rumble ran through the stands. The superior heirs sat up, impatient. It was what they were waiting for: the show.
The first duel opposed two massive silhouettes. A close-haired colossus, his shoulders covered with tattoos, faced a supple and nervous boy, his hair greying to the back of his neck. The shock was brutal, fast. The colossus sprang forward, she dodged, planting her icy aura in his chest. A scream, blood. The audience roared.
The second fight was longer. A boy with dark hair, thin but fast, faced an heiress armed with flames emanating from his hands. He moved like a shadow, she hit like a storm. The ground cracked under their steps, the air burned. She won, but narrowly: her arms were still trembling under the effort.
Then it was my name.
— Iron Vongold.
I walk through the arena door. The bleachers stopped for a moment. Some hissed, others burst out laughing.
— Here is the spectrum!
— Let's see if the Vongold always know how to put on a show.
My opponent was already waiting for me.
A boy with a thin face, a smirk, spiky hair. Since our arrival, he kept throwing punches at me in the corridors, whispering mockeries in a low voice. He looked at me like one looks at a beggar who dared to pass through a forbidden door.
— At last, he said aloud, let us put an end to this farce!
Laughter in the bleachers.
I did not respond. I remained calm. I only felt my fracture vibrate in my chest. And the teachings of Helena "Type with precision and avoid unnecessary movements." that she repeated to me during my close combat simulations.
The gong resonated.
He rushed at me, his fist charged with a gloomy aura. Fast, well-formed. But for me... too slow.
I parry, pivotai, and his fist hit the void, again and again.
My hand clapped against his face: a sharp, brutal slap. His smile disappeared in a crunch of teeth.
The audience sat up.
I didn't give him the time.
My blades leaped. A crack opened in the air, and a blade of fire arose. It circled around me like a hungry predator. I brandish it, and my aura made my opponent instinctively step back.
— What is...
He tried to attack again, but too late: he had become my prey. My blows were raining. Fists, knees, slashing. Each keystroke echoed like the echo of my months of training.
I remembered Helena's brutality. Her sharp blows that broke my bones. Her cold screams. I remembered Pedro's chains choking me, Bruno's fist crushing me. I remembered the Dragon who almost devoured me.
Compared to all of this... that boy was nothing. A fragile shadow. My first walk destined to raise me to the top.
What was being played there was no longer a fight. Not since his first failed move.
No. I was presenting it as an example.
— You apparently have no idea what pain is, nor the effort, I whispered while hitting him even more violently.
The ground trembled beneath our steps. My opponent finally fell to his knees, his face bleeding, almost disfigured.
I stepped forward with a leap, reached out my hand.
The fracture opened above me. My second blade shot out then a gust took the entire audience by surprise.
The audience was excited.
I could now summon my two blades simultaneously in more stable ways.
My opponent got up somehow, panting, and I felt his fear. His body trembled. He stared at me with wide eyes filled with terror.
I took an impulse.
My body rose into the air.
The silence fell on the arena.
I stopped in the air, above him, my flamboyant blades swirling around me like satellites of light and fire.
Once I held the audience's attention, I rushed at them like a comet.
The referee screamed to stop...
But too late by instinct my blades wrapped around my forearm and my fist hit his face, sending it crashing against the marble. His ribs cracked. He crashed, inert, unable to stand up.
I had not refused the fight nor let my honor be flouted without answering.
Then the bleachers exploded: cries, exclamations, whispers in disbelief.
— SHIT, THAT BASTARD HE...
— How...
— No one had flown since... since the first Patriarchs and...
I saw stupor, dread, fascination. Some stood up, pale as death.
— A new Izac ??
— Shh! Shut up, are you crazy?!
A name floated in the air. A shadow seeming to belong to the past. A mournful legend that I did not know yet. But at the reaction of the spectators, I understood: my faculty was not only rare. She reminded everyone of a time, a being, whose simple memory made tremble.
I stepped back and remained calm. My blades dissipated. My body fell heavily on the ground.
The arena remained in turmoil. Some applauded me, others stared at me with hatred. But all knew.
A Vongold had flown.
And nothing would be like before.
I was escorted out of the arena, into the hall of admissions. My breath still burned my lungs. Voler always asked me for a great concentration; it was not as obvious as in the fictions.
My hands were shaking. My legs too. No fear. Not this time. Another thing: a residual energy that was passing through me, as if my body couldn't understand what it had just done. Or rather... as if he had appreciated it...
Was I going to end up obsessed with fighting?
I sat against a marble wall, my face dripping with sweat. The bleachers were still whispering. I felt their looks on me like invisible arrows. Admiration. Fear. Hatred.
I had just won my first fight.
I had triumphed over my opponent in the eyes of all but also signed a declaration of war, silent but real.
Footsteps approached.
I raised my head.
The first was a boy with solid shoulders, with a straight look. Silver hair, pink eyes shining with a rare sincerity in this nest of snakes. He stopped before me, without arrogance.
— You fought like a possessed, Vongold, he said with an enthusiastic smile. Not bad don't give up!
He held out his hand to me. I squeezed it.
Behind him, a feminine figure approached. Long brown hair, soft light green eyes—almost too soft for this place. She smiles slightly at me.
— Know that you are not alone, you know. Some of us see beyond names and ranks.
His words surprised me more than any blow received in the arena.
Then a laugh erupted. Clear, frank.
Another boy — taller, despite his child face—stepped forward, disheveled brown hair in battle accompanied by an insolent look. He almost reminded me of someone familiar... but with much less charm.
— God damn, man... did you see their faces? You made them shit in their uniforms like never before. Just to review that, I'll pay a fortune. All these lost people who only know how to sell their family name to survive disgust me.
He placed a hand on my shoulder, as if we were already accomplices.
Finally, a girl with an athletic figure approached in turn. Slightly short black hair raised in battle, as a sign of rebellion. His gaze was harsh, suspicious, but not hostile.
— You are worthy to bear your name, it must be admitted. But here, strength attracts vultures. Be careful Vongold...
They moved away shortly afterwards, leaving me alone in my thoughts. But their faces remained engraved in my mind.
For the first time, I felt that some... saw something other than a stranger.
The night fell quickly after the fights. But I didn't have time to return to my room.
Messengers came.
— Iron Vongold. Mentors summon you. Follow us immediately.
I followed without a word.
I was led through vaulted corridors to a dark room. The ceiling was high, pierced with light slots that bathed the room in a cold clarity. Around a large circular table, several figures were already waiting.
I recognized Simon.
His gaze was as impassive as always, but I felt a different tension.
To her left, Helena. Right, motionless, arms crossed.
Other mentors, whom I did not know, displayed serious faces.
— Sit down, said Simon.
I complied.
They stared at me for a long time, in silence. As if I were a rare specimen that had just been dug up.
Finally, Helena spoke:
— Do you know what you showed today?
I shrugged, still out of breath.
— I don't understand anything anymore why do you look so handsome—
— Silence, Protophetos...
A grin passed over his lips, almost imperceptible. I understood clearly what that meant: the Vongold would have wanted to keep this information to themselves unofficially as long as possible.
My action had attracted the attention of all the great houses, and, to avoid any misunderstanding... they pretended ignorance.
Another mentor went on:
— No. You flew, Vongold.
The room froze. The other mentors exchanged heavy glances.
Simon bent forward, his eyes piercing mine.
The mentor continued:
— What you have revealed belongs to distant legends Iron. Beings who once trampled Kalion... and another more recent but laudatory month...
I frowned.
— Who is it about?
Silence.
It was a question that a Protophetos like me couldn't ask so recklessly.
No one replied.
Even Helena looked away, yet she was so impassive, as if even thinking of her name evoked painful memories.
Simon, he stood up.
— You don't need this answer. It won't be of any benefit to you believe me.
Another mentor, older, with a parchment face, stared at me as if I were an anomaly.
— If that's true... then he may be...
Simon snapped his fingers. The old man fell silent immediately.
I felt my throat tighten under the pressure he was putting out.
No one said a word.
Just those looks.
This silence was heavier than any sentence.
Finally, Simon dismissed me with a gesture.
— Return to your quarters. Continue your training. And remember this: everything you show here, everything you become... will be observed and judged. By everyone. And if you distance yourself from our teachings or show us any hostility, you will have to suffer the consequences, young man.
I left the room, my heart in a storm.
Outside, a cool wind hit me. Aurora's night was clear, the stars shone above the towers. But inside me, a chasm widened.
They knew something.
Something that only I had triggered.
And they didn't want to tell me.
I had no answer.
But I knew one thing: sooner or later, someone would speak.