The third week at Noxspire brought not only new knowledge but also new acquaintances. Nox, without realizing it, began to develop connections that could prove more valuable than any magic in the future. It all started when, after a lecture on artificing, a short boy with tousled red hair and perpetually surprised eyes that never seemed to fully close approached him.
«Hey. You are Nox, right? I am Ren. Ren Allar. Wind mage. I saw how you put Reinhart in his place in the common hall. That was… impressive. I wanted to say something myself, but I did not dare. You just did it. As if you did not care that he is a duke's son. That is cool.»
Nox looked at him. Ren was short, wiry, with perpetually disheveled hair and clothes that always sat on him a little carelessly, as if he dressed in a hurry and did not look in a mirror. But his eyes burned with a lively, sharp intelligence, and Nox, taught by life in the slums, understood immediately: this guy was not as simple as he seemed. He talked a lot, but he also noticed a lot. And he was clearly looking for someone to attach himself to in this academy, where loners did not survive long.
«Ren Allar,» Nox repeated. «Where is your family from?»
«The south. The coast. My father is a fisherman, my mother sews sails. No crests or ancient bloodlines, if that is what you are asking. I am the first in my family to have awakened magic. My father nearly fell into the sea from surprise when he found out. My mother cried for three days, thinking they would take me away to some academy and she would never see me again. That is exactly what happened, by the way.»
He spoke easily, with a smile, but Nox sensed something else beneath the lightness. Homesickness? Fear of the unknown? Or simply a habit of hiding his true feelings behind chatter? In any case, Ren did not seem dangerous. Rather, he was seeking protection, and Nox, without intending it, was becoming a magnet for people like him. For those who did not fit into the world of aristocrats and their rules.
«Alright, Ren Allar. Welcome to our group. Over there at the far table are Kane, Iris, and Eveline. Go introduce yourself. I will be there shortly.»
Ren beamed and practically ran toward the table, while Nox lingered to gather his notes. At that moment, another student approached him. He had seen her before in lectures but never spoken to her. Tall, with dark hair braided into a tight plait and eyes the color of dark amber, she moved with a grace that suggested not just a mage but someone accustomed to physical exertion. Her robe bore no crest, only the silver border of a first year, but something in her posture spoke of noble birth. Or military training.
«Nox. I am Mira. Mira Caine. No, not related to your neighbor, just a coincidence. I am an Earth mage. I wanted to say that what you did for Eveline was right. I come from an impoverished noble family myself, and I know what it is like to be looked at as dirt simply because your family has no money. If you ever need help, you can count on me.»
She spoke shortly, in a military manner, without unnecessary emotion. But in her eyes, Nox saw something he rarely encountered in people: honesty. Direct, unadorned, without trying to seem better or worse than she was. Mira Caine was the kind of person who said what she thought and did what she said. Such people were rare in the slums and, apparently, in the academy as well.
«Thank you, Mira. I will remember. Come on, I was just heading to lunch. I will introduce you to the others.»
She nodded and walked beside him, and Nox noticed that her steps were completely silent, despite the stone floor. An Earth mage who could move silently. That was interesting. And useful.
At lunch, quite a group had gathered. Kane, as always, sat at the edge, silent and observant, but Nox could see he had relaxed in the presence of the new acquaintances. Iris was animatedly telling Ren something, his mouth agape, forgetting to chew. Eveline smiled quietly, happy to be among those who did not look down on her. Mira sat next to Kane, and they exchanged short nods, like two warriors acknowledging each other.
«Well, now there are five of us,» Ren said as Nox sat down. «Five nobodies, paupers, or just those who do not fit into the aristocratic crowd. The perfect team to turn this academy upside down.»
«We are not turning anything upside down,» Nox answered calmly. «We are going to study, become stronger, and survive. Everything else comes later.»
«Boring,» Ren drawled, but playful sparks danced in his eyes. «But I get it. First studies, then revolution. Understood.»
Everyone laughed, even Kane allowed himself a restrained smile. And at that moment, Nox felt something strange. Warmth. Not from the food, not from magic. From these people sitting beside him, eating, laughing, talking about ordinary things. He was not used to this. In the slums, he had only Lin, and even then, they mostly stayed silent because they had no energy for talking. But here, at the academy, he had acquired… friends? He was not sure the word fit. But something like it.
After lunch was a lecture on the history of Ennarch, taught by Master Alberich Grave, a dry, tall man with a face etched with deep wrinkles and a voice that could put even the most alert student to sleep. But Nox listened carefully. The history of this world was the history of his family. And he needed to know it thoroughly.
«Today we will talk about the gods,» Master Grave began, and his usually monotonous voice took on a strange, almost reverent tone. «Not only those worshipped in temples, though them as well. About the gods who created this world and who still influence its fate. There are over a hundred, but most are forgotten. Their names have been erased, their temples destroyed, their priests dead. But they have not disappeared. Gods do not die as long as even one living creature remembers them. They sleep. They wait. And sometimes they wake.»
He paced the room, and his gaze lingered on Nox for a moment.
«Nine high gods. The Lord of Shadows, the God of Light, the God of Blood, the God of the Abyss, the God of Dragons, the Moon Goddess, the God of War, the Goddess of Life, and the God of Death. Each rules over their part of the universe. Each has their followers, their temples, their secrets. And each, to some degree, interferes in the affairs of mortals. Some openly, like the Moon Goddess, whose hunters scour the continent searching for bearers of rare powers. Some covertly, like the Lord of Shadows, who, according to legend, was imprisoned by the Moon Goddess centuries ago and still awaits someone to free him.»
Nox felt something inside him respond to these words. The Lord of Shadows. The true god of his power. The one the Moon Goddess had betrayed and imprisoned. The one whose power she had stolen and divided among the first Shadow bearers. His father had sought a way to free the Lord. He had not succeeded. Now that path lay before him.
«The God of Dragons,» the master continued, «is the oldest of the high gods. He is older than this world, according to some legends. He sleeps deep beneath the earth, in halls carved into the world's heart, and his sleep is guarded by dragon spirits. Once, he was the patron of all dragonids, but after the Great Schism, when the gods warred among themselves for dominion over the world, he withdrew from affairs and no longer interferes in the fates of mortals. However, his blood still flows in the veins of certain bloodlines. Those who once made an alliance with the dragonids and mingled their blood with theirs. These bloodlines are called the Shadow Dragons, and they are considered extinct. But who knows, perhaps some of them still live.»
Nox lowered his eyes so no one would see his pupils flare. Master Grave was looking directly at him, and there was understanding in his gaze. He knew. Lady Morvane had apparently told not only about the False Aura ring but also about his origins. That was dangerous. But on the other hand, if the instructors knew and did not expose him, then they were on his side. Or pretended to be. In any case, he needed to be careful.
After the lecture, Nox walked into the corridor and ran into the person he least wanted to see. Magnus van Drake stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking at him with cold, calculating interest. He was half a head taller than Nox, broader in the shoulders, and radiated heat like a furnace. The Fire magic he wielded was strong and aggressive, and Nox could feel it even without using Shadow.
«Nox. The nobody. Or perhaps not such a nobody as you pretend to be?» Magnus spoke quietly, almost softly, but steel rang in his voice. «My brother told me about you. How you humiliated him before the entire academy. How you look at him as if he were dirt beneath your feet. I do not know who you really are or why Lady Morvane has taken you under her wing. But I know one thing: no one touches my family. No one.»
Nox looked at him without looking away. Shadow inside him stirred, ready for battle, but he restrained it. Not here. Not now. Not in front of the whole academy.
«Your brother brought it on himself. He humiliated a girl who could not fight back. I simply put him in his place. If you think that is grounds for enmity, I will not try to convince you otherwise. But remember: I am not afraid of you or your Fire. And if you try to harm me or my friends, you will regret it.»
Magnus smiled. The smile was cold as ice and just as sharp.
«Well said. For a nobody. But words are one thing, power another. We will see what you have to say when you find yourself in the arena against me. And that will happen, Nox. Sooner or later. The academy likes to hold trials where students can settle their differences. And when that day comes, I will be there. And I will not hold back.»
He pushed off from the wall and walked away, leaving Nox standing, watching him go. He knew Magnus was not bluffing. Sooner or later, they would have to face each other. And by that time, he had to be ready.
In the evening, when everyone had gone to their rooms, Nox went down to the catacombs again. Today, he did not train with Shadow. Instead, he sat in the center of the round chamber, closed his eyes, and tried to do what he had not yet managed. To feel the dragon blood. Not as a vague warmth somewhere deep, but as a real power he could call upon.
An hour passed. Perhaps two. Nox lost track of time, sinking deeper into himself, into the darkness where the ancient blood of his ancestors slept. And just as he was beginning to despair, something changed. The darkness before his inner eye began to part, and he saw… no, not saw. He felt. A vast, infinitely ancient presence that looked at him from the depths of his own soul.
«You called me,» a voice sounded. The same voice he had heard in the vision before fleeing Mirtarind. The dragon's voice. «You wish to know your blood, descendant. That is commendable. But know this: dragon power is not given freely. It must be earned. A trial must be passed. Are you ready?»
«Yes,» Nox answered without hesitation. «I am ready.»
«Then listen. Deep within these catacombs, where no mortal foot has trod for centuries, there is a temple. A temple dedicated to both the Lord of Shadows and the God of Dragons. There you will find the first trial. Pass it, and your dragon blood will awaken more strongly. Fail, and you may die. Such is the dragon's path. The path of power through risk. Are you still ready?»
Nox opened his eyes. The chamber was dark, only shadows dancing on the walls, alive and waiting. He stood up, adjusted his father's belt, and looked deeper into the catacombs, where he had never ventured before.
«I am ready,» he said aloud. And he walked into the darkness.