Time slipped away in silence like sand through an hourglass within the cold, unforgiving stone walls of the Obsidian Academy. There was no time to whine or mourn; there were only steps that needed to be taken to survive and grow stronger.
[Academy Logs - Month One] While the rest of the first-years begged the healers to stop the aether in their veins from boiling over, Room 404 in Block D turned into a silent torture chamber every night. Vane continued to forge his own blood with that fire he stole from the Third Pillar. His aether pool was still too shallow to project Lysandra's dark arts. He could construct the theory perfectly in his mind, but whenever he tried to project the energy outward, the rusted dagger's seal kept the door firmly shut. From the top bunk, Elian watched Vane grind out push-ups late into the night, wearing his own body down with a silent discipline. In the scrawny boy's eyes, Vane was no different from a doomed bird desperately flapping its wings to escape the Reaper's scythe.
[Academy Logs - Month Two] Exams and loyalty. The academy curriculum, which Vane struggled with at first, had fallen into place thanks to Elian's endless study notes and patient help. Thanks to his scrawny roommate's sacrifice, he was getting quite good grades on exams, solidifying his theoretical foundation day by day. When his already sharp analytical mind combined with the pool of knowledge the academy offered, he began to read the world around him and the politics of the Pillars much more clearly. Vane wasn't just training his mind, but his body as well; his shoulders were broadening, the scrawny farm boy being replaced day by day by a far more resilient and strong-willed young man.
[Academy Logs - Month Three] Silence. The only thing breaking this monotonous routine was Lyra Corvus; or rather, her absence. The silver-haired girl seemed to have completely lost interest in Vane after their confrontation in the corridor. Whenever they crossed paths in joint classes, her emerald eyes would slide over Vane as if he were thin air, her mind seemingly occupied by entirely different schemes. For Vane, having someone who knew his greatest secret remain this quiet was, of course, unnerving. But behind his cold logic lay another truth he struggled to accept: that familiar feeling she gave him, that chamomile scent reminiscent of his mother... Vane, even if he couldn't admit it to himself, had inwardly started to miss Lyra's strange and dangerous attention.
After dinner one evening, Vane decided to make his move instead of waiting for that blade to drop. In a dim corridor leading to the library, he reached out from the shadows, grabbed Lyra by the arm, and pulled her behind a massive stone pillar.
"Your silence is too loud, Lyra," Vane said. His voice was low and calm, yet carried an analytical coldness.
Lyra leaned her back against the cold stone and crossed her arms. Her emerald eyes scanned Vane from head to toe. The boy had visibly packed on muscle mass over the passing months. But the real change was in his eyes. Those bottomless purple irises now held an eerie, dark glint, resembling a starry night hidden in the depths. An oppressive aura surrounded him—one that didn't register on aether radars, yet could be felt on a primal, instinctive level.
The King's blood is awakening, Lyra thought to herself. Trying to hide the fact that she was impressed, she shrugged.
"The world doesn't revolve around you, Vane," Lyra whispered. After a quick glance down the corridor, she leaned in closer. "The Academy's infamous 'Special Ward Rating and Promotion' event is approaching. It's a slave hunt for the vassals, and an absolute bloodbath for the nobles. And this year's clash is going to be far bloodier, all thanks to your perfect older brother, Prince Julian."
Vane raised an eyebrow. "Julian? Why him?"
"Because the Pillars aren't just after your rusty throat," Lyra said with a mocking smirk. "As much of a threat as you are to Julian, Julian is an equally massive threat to the other Nine Pillars. Your father's family, the Leynthey bloodline, has monopolized the throne as the First Pillar for the last three generations. The other families are sick of this dynasty. To keep Julian off that throne, they'll do whatever it takes during this event to cripple him, or even 'accidentally' kill him."
In the chessboard of Vane's mind, the pieces shifted with a deafening crash.
A golden opportunity, Vane thought. I can secretly devour the aether of the Pillar heirs attacking Julian in the midst of that chaos, and finish off my dear brother myself.
From the depths of his mind, Lysandra's ice-cold voice echoed. "Patience, my little pawn. Do you really think you can topple the Queen's knight before you even step into the center of the board?"
I won't even need to get my hands dirty, Vane replied internally. I just need to turn the rules of the game in my favor.
Vane focused his gaze back on Lyra. There was no emotion on his face; neither fear nor excitement. Just pure rationality. "How can I join this event?"
Lyra's eyes widened in shock. She shoved Vane away by the chest. "Are you looking for the Reaper? The people you'll face aren't ordinary opponents! And let's say you do enter... once Julian is out of the picture, do you honestly think the Pillars will just watch you walk up to the throne? To enter this event, you must form a 'Sword and Shield' team with a Pillar heir. No Pillar heir is going to take a bastard by their side. Do you even have a noble in mind stupid enough to join you on this suicide mission?"
Vane tilted his head down slightly. Kael's bloodied body, his mother's scream on that rainy night, and King Vorian's soulless, calculating eyes flashed through his mind like a film strip. He was suffering, yes. But he weaponized this pain with an ice-cold reality, not cheap tears.
"Why do you think the King sent me here, Lyra?" Vane said. His voice was so empty and cold that Lyra flinched for a second. "To my father, I am nothing more than a suicide pawn to be thrown in front of Julian and detonated when necessary. A disposable meat shield."
Vane raised his head. A chilling smile appeared on his lips, born from that terrifying mixture of desperation and sheer intellect.
"When all the Pillars come charging at him on the battlefield... what could be more useful than a shield of his own blood, one whose death he wouldn't care about in the slightest?" Vane stared deep into the girl's emerald eyes. "In trying times like these... is there really a better option than family, Lyra? Naturally, I am going to choose Julian as my teammate."