*Date: 33,480 Third Quarter - Chalice Theocracy*
Three days after the final matches, the academy gave first years a break to recover for their third dungeon. Aris took his time preparing.
In the dim alchemy lab, surrounded by bubbling cauldrons and carefully measured ingredients, he worked with methodical precision. Four vials of tier 3 all-stat boost potions, glowing with inner light. Two blood-mixed Force potions, crimson threaded with gold. One blood-mixed Manifest potion, pulsing with power. Two tier 3 reflect potions, shimmering like mirrors. One tier 3 unstable potion, swirling with chaotic energy.
And numerous tier 2 resistance potions for Orric and Gumo as promised. Plus tier 2 stamina and health potions, just in case.
When he finished, Aris carefully drew the XP transfer sigil on the witness stone and placed it against his temple. Energy flowed, draining his accumulated experience. The stone grew warm, then hot, pulsing with stored power.
He wrapped a rag around his hand to protect from the heat.
When he gathered with Orric and Gumo to go to the drafting ceremony, they noticed their school's security had tightened more than the aftermath of the covenant attack. Armored guards stood at every corner. Patrols moved in synchronized patterns.
"Don't pick Aris. I'll pick him. His last attack against Sliver was amazing," Gumo said. The bearkin was ranked 11.
"Then you should have taken a better ranking. He was my mate first," Orric countered. The wolfkin was ranked 8.
Aris pointed at the increasing security presence.
Orric's ears swiveled. "I guess we have heavy guests."
"I heard the Prince of Satar is coming," Gumo said.
"Why would he come to a measly first year drafting ceremony?" Aris looked at Fox. The familiar was about to make a snarky comment but held back, whiskers twitching.
They entered the grand gathering hall. Students filed in, excited and giddy, chattering about teams and dungeon tactics. Some teachers stood along the walls, all wearing Chalice colors of red and gold.
The gathering hall was impressive. Stacked seats rose along one side like an amphitheater. Second years had already taken their places on the high levels, looking down with amused superiority. First years were seated at the low levels, craning their necks to see.
After every student sat and teachers shushed them to cut their noise, Kerapha Vale, their headmaster, took the stage. His robes swept the floor, gold embroidery catching the light.
"I am happy to announce our leader, High Priestess Aeloria, and her beloved betrothed, Prince Taelorin Vaelorian, are with us. They are here to witness the birthing of our devout students becoming leaders of communities by sharpening their skills."
High clapping sounds erupted. The High Priestess entered first, grand and imposing. Her ceremonial armor gleamed, her expression serene and cold.
Behind her came an ancient-looking elven prince. He appeared to be in his forties, like the High Priestess. But he seemed genuinely smiling, taking compliments with grace and humility. Where Aeloria entered with calculated grandeur, he entered with humble charm and humor.
Behind him marched four elven warriors in gleaming armor from top to bottom. A special unit. Their synchronized steps echoed like drums.
The prince rushed at the stage, almost stumbling. The crowd gasped, then laughed as he caught himself. "I know you waited for us, so I will cut this short. Thank you for having me in your tradition. I am honored to be here. Let's hope no one gets hurt. Jinx!" He puffed small fireworks from his hands, colorful sparks dancing.
He was a dazzling ball of joy.
The High Priestess's face said it all. I am here because I must, and I hate this fool.
Kerapha took the stage again. "Let's start the..." He looked at the High Priestess. When she gave a subtle nod, he continued. "...drafting process."
"It will go like this. Starting from rank 1, players will choose their party one by one. After the top 30 choose their first round, the process will start once again. Now let's give a round of applause to Rank 1, Kaelan Torcher. Come here please."
High applause erupted from humans and small, reluctant clapping from other students. Kaelan ran up to the stage. From the first day of meeting him, Aris hadn't expected his hard-headed roommate to be the highest potential of their peers.
"First of all, congratulations. We have high hopes from you in upcoming years. Now, who do you pick?"
"Thank you, sir. I pick number 4, my good friend Hayley. She is one of the strongest among humans." Students' cheers were shut by a gesture.
Kerapha sighed. "No, you probably misunderstood. You must pick outside of the top 30." Rathvoss rushed to their side with a list.
"You should have made a possible list," Rathvoss muttered.
Kaelan was looking at the list. "Aaa... then I pick rank 32, Alwind Klein."
"He is a templar and a tank like you. It wouldn't be a good fit," Rathvoss said.
"Why? Isn't he strong? He is just outside of top 30."
Rathvoss tried to hide his frustration. "Headmaster, he is picking rank 32 Alwind."
Kerapha turned to the students. "Alwind Klein to the first party. And now rank 2, Sliver Stoneflower. Another excellent prospect. She already has many tier 3 spells under her wings. She only lost her top spot to a draw in her last match."
Aris turned to Orric and Gumo. "Why are they dragging this parade and turning it into a show?"
Sliver took her place at the stage. Aris wasn't paying attention, talking to his mates about strategies and dungeon survival.
The atmosphere shifted suddenly.
All students, years 1 and 2, stopped talking. The stage turned cold.
Aris heard his name. "Rank 31, Aris Orvellis."
Aris turned to the stage. Sliver's eyes were locked on him with daring, challenging intensity.
Kerapha's voice carried across the stunned silence. "Aris, come to the stage please. Your last match should have impressed her to take you into her party."
Aris was puzzled. Orric pushed him to stand. Aris turned to lock eyes with Fox, but the familiar only shook his head, ears flat. Aris looked around to see Lyra, but she wasn't present.
He walked slowly to the stage. Ideas were running through his head. Why me? Why would you choose me? Does she see me as a force to ally with, trying to pull me to her side?
But when he shook off the ideas and looked at her, he saw only hatred and evil plans.
"Why would you choose me? You could have picked anyone. Why?" Aris asked.
"Aris, please behave yourself. Anyway, rank 3..." Kerapha tried to continue.
"Why? Of course, you are so good. That is why," Sliver said, smile sharp.
"Bullshit. You want to take revenge on me." Aris turned to Rathvoss. "Sir, you know their hatred, their bullying toward me. And just because I didn't back down..."
"Aris, please respect the drafting process and take your place," Kerapha interrupted.
"Sir, maybe this time Sliver could choose someone she can work with in harmony. Their history is..." Rathvoss tried.
Aeloria stood up. "Shut the bickering. Continue. All this talk against tradition. It is learned from players. Stop acting like them." Her eyes were shooting fires of anger. The Prince shriveled with fear back into his seat.
"Right away, Highness. Aris, shut up. Take your place," Kerapha ordered.
Aris, without protesting again, was pulled by Rathvoss and put behind Sliver.
Rathvoss whispered, "There is nothing to do. So shut up."
Aris whispered back, "But she is planning something and everyone knows it."
Drafting continued for another hour. Sliver chose one of her Fae friends, Fyndar, a male templar tank type. Aris remembered him, not being very strong. He'd defeated him in the duels easily. But the idea was getting bigger in his head. They will attack me in the dungeon.
After the ceremony, Aris saw the Headmaster getting yelled at by the High Priestess but didn't have time to pay attention. Orric and Gumo apologized. Aris called them to meet at night in the alchemy room to give their promised potions, then rushed to the library to check on Lyra.
Lyra was there, cheerfully weeding out the dead flowers Aris had left. He entered empty-handed.
"Hey, Lyra."
"Student Aris. This was draft day. I hope you made it into a good party."
Aris didn't want to worry her. Why would she worry about a student she doesn't remember? He thought. "Yeah, it is a good party. Rank 2 is in my party."
"Wow, very good. Sliver is sweet to me. An exemplary Fae student. Good luck on your dungeon run."
"Yeah. Yeah, she is. And thank you."
Aris descended to the alchemy room, prepared his last batch. Normally these were for whoever his team picked last, but now he had to keep them all. He separated some potions for Orric and Gumo.
Back in his room, Aris tied the witness stone to his stomach with cloth strips, securing it tightly. His final reserve for survival. Once more he would draw on the witness stone's power. This time he was sure it would boost him to at least Level 35, unlike his second dungeon.
He lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
Tomorrow, he would enter the third dungeon.
With a team that wanted him dead.