The morning began with rain. Light, nasty, drizzling rain that tapped on the tavern roof, drummed on the windowsill, and flooded the narrow streets of the Coppersmith Quarter, turning them into a muddy mess of water, clay, and horse manure. Nox woke before dawn, as he had grown accustomed to in the slums, and lay for a long time staring at the ceiling, listening to the rain trying to penetrate the old tiles. Lin was still asleep, curled up under a thin blanket, and the Abyss on her wrists flickered in the room's half darkness with a steady, calm light. She was recovering. Slowly but surely.
He got up, trying not to make noise, dressed in the same clothes he had arrived in, for he had no others, and went downstairs. The main hall of the tavern was empty and dark, only a single candle burning behind the counter, and Marta, already dressed and composed as if she had not slept at all, was laying out some papers on the table.
«Sit down and eat,» she said without looking up, nodding toward a plate of porridge and a slice of bread on the edge of the counter. «It will be a long day. You will need your strength.»
Nox sat and began to eat. The porridge was hot, filling, with pieces of something meaty, and he ate every last spoonful, though he barely tasted it. All his thoughts were occupied with what awaited him. The academy. Lady Morvane. The trial about which he knew nothing. He was not afraid. Or rather, he was afraid, but that fear was not paralyzing, it was spurring, making his blood run faster and his thoughts work more clearly. It was the kind of fear he had felt in the slums before a fight with the Fangs, before a foraging trip to the Ash Market, before descending into the tunnels. Fear that helped him survive.
Marta finished with the papers, rolled them into a tight scroll, tied it with twine, and handed it to Nox.
«This is a letter of recommendation. Do not ask where I got it or what is written in it. Just give it to Lady Morvane when you meet her. And one more thing.» She took a small pouch from her apron pocket, clinking with coins. «Money. Not much, but enough to get you started. The academy provides food and shelter, but there may be expenses you do not yet know about. Take it.»
Nox took the pouch and put it in one of the pockets of his father's belt. It felt warm to the touch and seemed to encourage him, reminding him of who he was and why he was there.
«Thank you, Marta. For everything.»
«Do not thank me too soon. First, get in. Now go, and may the shadows of your ancestors protect you.»
Nox left the tavern into the drizzling rain and walked through the muddy streets of the Coppersmith Quarter toward the academy. It was visible from everywhere, huge, black, majestic, and the closer he got, the stronger he felt that hum of magic he had first noticed at the station. Here, at the foot of the hill on which the academy stood, it was almost deafening, and Nox had to make an effort not to be distracted by it.
The gates of Noxspire were exactly as he had imagined them, and yet completely different. Huge, taller than any house in Ravnes, they were made of black stone that seemed to absorb light, and were covered with carvings depicting dragons, gears, magical symbols, and scenes of ancient battles. The gates were closed, and before them, on a small square paved with the same light stone, stood several people. Students, judging by their robes, and guards in academy uniforms, carrying halberds on whose blades blue sparks danced.
Nox approached, and one of the guards, tall, with a scarred face and eyes cold as ice, stepped forward to block his path.
«Halt. Who are you? What is your business?»
«I need to see Lady Morvane. I have a message from Sylvana.»
The guard frowned. The witch's name was clearly familiar to him, and he was unsure how to react. On one hand, before him stood a ragged street boy, without a robe, without a crest, without anything a visitor to the academy should have. On the other hand, he had mentioned Sylvana, one of the seven strongest witches, and that changed things.
«Wait here,» the guard grunted and disappeared through a small door set into one of the gate leaves.
Nox remained standing in the rain. The students waiting by the gate glanced at him with curiosity and contempt. One of them, blond, with an arrogant face and a crest of crossed swords on his robe, said loudly, for all to hear, to his companion:
«Look at that, another nobody dreaming of magic. He thinks that just because he has some spark, they will let him into Noxspire. Pathetic. The best study here, not the scum from the gutters.»
His companion laughed in agreement, and Nox simply stood and stared ahead at the gate, not deigning them even a glance. He had heard worse insults in the slums. From the Fangs, from market vendors, from random passersby who disgustedly pulled the hems of their coats aside so he would not touch them. The words of aristocrats could not hurt him. They simply did not know who he was. And they would not know until he decided to show them.
The door in the gate opened again, and the guard came out, followed by a woman. Tall, slender, in a long dark blue dress embroidered with silver threads, with the academy crest on her chest. Her hair, silver like Sylvana's but duller, was pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head, and her eyes, gray and piercing, looked at Nox with calm, assessing interest. Lady Morvane. The headmistress of Noxspire. One of the most influential women on the continent. And she had come out personally to meet a nameless boy who had mentioned a witch's name.
«You have brought a message from Sylvana?» she asked. Her voice was low, throaty, with a hint of steel.
«Yes, Lady Morvane. But first, I would like to speak with you in private.»
The students by the gate began to whisper. No one dared speak to the headmistress in that tone. No one, especially not some ragamuffin. But Lady Morvane did not get angry. She looked carefully at Nox, and something like recognition flickered in her gray eyes.
«Follow me.»
She turned and walked back, and Nox followed her, watched by the astonished gazes of the students and guards. They passed through the small door, then through an inner courtyard paved with black stone and surrounded by high arches, then through a long corridor hung with portraits of people in robes, and finally arrived at an office. Large, bright, despite the dark furniture and dark walls, with a huge window overlooking an inner garden where unfamiliar flowers bloomed, glowing with a soft blue light.
Lady Morvane sat behind her desk, gestured for Nox to sit across from her, and folded her hands before her.
«Now speak. Who are you, where did you get a message from Sylvana, and why should I believe you?»
Nox took the scroll Marta had given him from inside his shirt and placed it on the desk. Then he removed the False Aura ring that Sylvana had given him before they left and allowed Shadow to emerge. It poured out of him, filled the room, swirled at his feet, alive and obedient, and in its depths burned that cold, ancient fire that distinguished true Shadow bearers from all others.
Lady Morvane did not flinch. She watched the Shadow, how it flowed, how it pulsed in time with Nox's heart, how it took the form of a dragon coiled in a ring, the crest of House Endragon, and understanding slowly dawned on her face.
«Shadow. True, pure, unbroken. And dragon blood. You are an Endragon.»
«Yes. I am Nox Endragon. Son of Dorian and Ariadne. The last of my bloodline. And I have come here to become stronger and to avenge my parents' death and everything the Moon Goddess has done to my family.»
Silence fell over the office. Lady Morvane looked at Nox for a long time, and various emotions flickered in her gray eyes: surprise, recognition, sadness, and finally something like respect. She took the scroll, unrolled it, read it. Then she set it aside and looked at Nox again.
«Sylvana writes that you are ready. That you have been through hellish training, fought a hunter, and survived an encounter with the Harbinger. She asks me to admit you to the academy outside the normal rules, to give you a chance. And I will give you that chance. But with one condition.»
«What condition?»
«Within these walls, you are not Nox Endragon. You are simply Nox, a nameless mage with a blurred aura, one of many. You do not reveal your true power to anyone except those I myself allow. You do not use Shadow at full strength in classes or tournaments. You study, train, grow in the shadows, as befits your name. And when the time comes, you will show who you truly are. Agreed?»
Nox thought of Lin, left behind at Marta's tavern. Of Sylvana, who might now be in the clutches of the Moon Goddess. Of the Harbinger, following their trail. Of the dragon who had spoken to him in the vision. Of everything he had yet to do. And he nodded.
«Agreed.»
«Then welcome to Noxspire, Nox. Your new life begins today. And may the shadows of your ancestors protect you, for here, you will need them.»
She extended her hand, and Nox shook it, feeling something inside him change. He was no longer just a boy from the slums. He had become a student of Noxspire. The first step on a long journey. And he was ready to walk it to the end.