Chapter XXVI – The Roar Before the Storm
Morning came sharp and golden. The capital's spires gleamed in the light as the bells of Ashford rang across the horizon, calling every trial-giver to the arena.
Inside the dorms, silence had weight.
Auron tied Vowkeeper across his back. The blade felt heavier today, not from steel but from what lay ahead. He adjusted the worn leather strap and exhaled slowly.
Lucian stood near the window, sunlight brushing his face. The faint runes on his arms pulsed softly as he traced them with his fingers. He whispered something too quiet for Auron to catch; a prayer.
Finn tightened the straps of his armor and grinned. "You think they'll have breakfast waiting in there?"
Auron gave him a look.
"Right, right," Finn muttered, tugging at his gloves. "Win first, eat later."
They stepped out together, their boots striking the cobblestone in rhythm. Outside, the air buzzed with energy.
The road to the Academy Colosseum was packed; thousands of trial-givers, banners from noble houses, merchants selling enchanted water, and hawkers waving flags for their favorites.
The Colosseum rose above it all like a mountain forged from white marble and iron. Its walls were carved with dragons circling the sun, eyes set with sapphires that caught the morning light.
Inside, the crowd was already roaring. Tens of thousands filled the stands, nobles, students, citizens, and foreign guests. Mana-screens floated in the air, projecting the faces of participants, betting numbers, and house crests.
Finn whistled low. "I've never seen this many people gathered without someone dying."
Lucian smiled faintly. "You may not be wrong."
They took their place among the early arrivals, standing near the central platform where the first phase of the Holy Dragon Test would begin. The ground shimmered with runes.
As more candidates streamed in, the noise grew. Mages in gilded robes, knights bearing glowing insignias, beast born with furred arms and glowing eyes. The air was thick with mana, ambition, and fear.
Even Auron, calm as ever, felt his pulse rise.
Then, the crowd shifted. A hush rippled outward as a group of nobles entered the top tier of the stands; the Academy's upper year students and city dignitaries. Among them sat Rodrik, his armor polished to a muted sheen, arms crossed as he scanned the arena. For the first time, he looked not like a commander but like a proud teacher.
Auron met his gaze across the distance. Rodrik nodded once.
******
High above, in the velvet-draped VIP box, a boy leaned lazily on his chair. He had dark hair that fell to his shoulders and eyes the color of molten iron. A cup of wine rested in his hand.
Around him gathered other elite students, their uniforms marked by gold thread and jeweled pins.
"Do you want to bet on the top ten?" asked a half-dwarf girl beside him, her voice teasing. Her braid shimmered with copper rings.
The boy smiled, slow and confident. "Naturally."
He was Prince Aldric veyrin, second prince of the kingdom, current head of the Student Council, and third-year prodigy of the Ashford Royal Academy.
He turned to a tall, bookish youth at his side. The boy's uniform was neat to perfection, glasses glinting under the sun.
"Lorian," Aldric said, "run the predictions."
The scholar's tone was calm, practiced. "Kael Sol, of House Sol; fourth generation descendants of the Solar Inquisitors. Mana type: Celestial Flame. Known for high-speed combat and divine runic blade techniques."
A murmur went through the gathered elites.
"Next," Aldric said.
"Rhea Althorn," Lorian continued. "Beast born hybrid, specializes in gravity control and mid-air maneuvers. A duelist without peer."
"Impressive," Aldric murmured.
"Then there's Selas Varn, lightning prodigy of the Silver Courts. Scored second in the mage tower test last year. Eccentric, unstable, lethal."
The list continued. each more dazzling than the last.
"And what about House Arvel's representative?" Aldric asked finally.
Lorian adjusted his glasses. "Lucian Arvel. Fourth son. Records incomplete, rumored to have been trained as a mage. Limited data."
Aldric swirled his wine. "Then he's either a hidden gem or a broken blade." He leaned forward, eyes narrowing slightly at the mana-screens showing Lucian below. "Either way, we'll see soon enough."
*****
A ripple of mana cut through the air.
A figure descended from the clouds, literally. A man with bright purple hair rode upon a swirling wisp of vapor, his smile wide and theatrical. He landed on the center platform with a twirl, the air crackling around him.
"Good morning, people of Ironheart!" he shouted, voice booming across the Colosseum. "And to all our lovely spectators watching across the nation, welcome to the Holy Dragon Test!"
The crowd roared.
Mana-screens flared alive across cities and towns. In a tavern, workers paused to watch. In a school courtyard, young students huddled around a single glowing orb. In a distant fortress, soldiers cheered as the screen crackled with the announcer's grin.
"The rules are simple," he continued. "Our brave contenders will be dropped into the Ironwood Expanse, a sealed region filled with ancient beasts, ruins, and more than a few surprises. There, they must collect Dragon Scales, shimmering tokens of power left behind by the beasts of old!"
Excited whispers rolled through the stands.
"Each cadet carries a mana bracelet," the announcer went on. "It tracks their rank, health, and current score. Those who wish to retreat can yell 'forfeit' to be teleported out, though, of course, they lose all their progress!"
He grinned, leaning toward the audience. "And remember, the Holy Dragon Test is not a duel of mercy. Combat, theft, even elimination are permitted. The Academy will not intervene."
A chill passed through the crowd.
"After the first stage," the announcer said, "the top sixty-four contenders will advance to the duels. There, they'll fight for the ultimate prize, fragments of the Dragon Bones themselves, relics of the last Holy Dragon!"
The Colosseum erupted in cheers.
Auron looked at Lucian and Finn. Neither spoke.
"This is it," Finn whispered, eyes wide.
Lucian nodded slowly. "No turning back."
Auron adjusted his sword strap. "We don't need to. We came to win."
The announcer raised his staff. The runes beneath the arena floor flared to life, golden lines spiraling outward.
"All contenders, prepare for teleportation!"
The ground vibrated. The hum of mana built until the air itself trembled.
Auron took one last look at the stands Rodrik, arms folded, watching. He mouthed something across the distance.
"Remember who you are."
Light engulfed them.
The Colosseum vanished.
For a heartbeat, there was only silence weightless and endless. Then came the wind, the smell of rain, the far-off roar of something alive and enormous.
They had arrived.
The Ironwood Expanse awaited.
And above them, unseen, twenty thousand stars burned; each one a dream about to be tested in fire.