The euphoria of the banquet faded with the sunrise. The cheers, the blinding azure light of the assessment, and the heavy scent of roasted meats were replaced by the dry, crisp smell of parchment and ink.
Stars sat at a desk that had been specially lowered to accommodate his two-year-old frame. He was in the West Wing of the Castle, a tower dedicated entirely to knowledge.
The door opened.
A young man entered. He was perhaps twenty-seven, wearing the grey robes of a researcher, spectacles perched on a sharp nose. He carried no weapons, only a stack of books that looked heavy enough to crush a man's foot.
This was Elian Myers.
Stars analyzed him instantly. Posture: Relaxed but precise. Eyes: weary but sharp.
Elian set the books down with a heavy thud that echoed in the silence. He looked at Stars, not with the fawning adoration of the banquet guests, but with critical appraisal.
"So," Elian began, leaning against the desk. "You are the High Grade anomaly. The one who nearly blinded Elder Thorne."
"I am Stars," the boy corrected.
"I know who you are," Elian adjusted his glasses. "I am Elian. I am from the Branch Family. My blood is thin compared to yours, Little Patriarch. I do not own castles, and I do not command armies."
He tapped the stack of books.
"But in the Royal Academy of Carnia, I hold the Chair of Historical & Arcane Research. Do you know why?"
Stars shook his head slowly.
"Because in the Cloud World," Elian said, his voice taking on a hard edge, "lineage opens the door, but only strength keeps it open. Be it the strength of the sword or the strength of the mind. If you are stupid, your noble blood is just expensive paint on a rotting fence. Do you understand?"
"Meritocracy," Stars said. The word felt heavy on his tongue, but right.
Elian smiled. It was a genuine smile. "Precisely. You are smart. Good. That saves time."
He pulled a chair over and sat opposite Stars.
"Let us manage your expectations. You have High Grade talent. Congratulations. You won the genetic lottery. But do not think you are a god."
Elian opened a book, revealing a map of the continent, dotted with glowing markers.
"The Royal Academy is filled with monsters, Stars. There are children there who can recite the entire Imperial Codex by age four. There are commoners born in mud huts who possess mana density that rivals yours. Talent is rare, but it is not unique. If you rest on your laurels, they will eat you alive."
Stars felt a strange sensation in his chest. It wasn't fear. It was excitement. Peers. Rivals. Variables to test against.
"When you turn ten," Elian continued, "you will face a choice. You can stay here, safe in the Myers Castle, and be home-schooled by the finest tutors we can buy. Or, you can go to the Academy. You can step into the pit with the other prodigies."
"I will go," Stars said immediately.
"We shall see," Elian murmured. "Ten is a long way off. For now, we fill that empty head of yours with the world."
For the next four hours, Elian did not teach magic. He taught reality.
He explained the Cloud World—a realm of vast continents and floating islands where the laws of physics bowed to the laws of the Arcane. He spoke of the energies that permeated the atmosphere, a resource as vital as oxygen.
"The Ordinary breathe air to live," Elian lectured, sketching a diagram on a slate. "The Cultivator breathes World Essence to ascend."
"Ascend to what?" Stars asked.
"To higher states of being," Elian said, his eyes gleaming with the fervor of a fanatic. "It is a ladder, Stars. It begins with strengthening the skin and bones. It moves to manipulating the elements. And at the very peak—a peak so high most die before seeing the base of the mountain—lies Immortality."
He let the word hang in the air.
"But we do not look at the peak yet," Elian snapped the book shut, sending a puff of dust into the sunlight. "We look at the first step. The Initial Stages. The foundation."
He stood up, signaling the end of the session.
"Theory is my domain. But a scholar cannot teach a tiger how to bite." Elian gestured to the door. "Your next teacher is waiting in the training yard. He will handle your Arcane Induction."
Elian paused at the door, looking back at the small boy in the big chair.
"Tomorrow, Stars, you stop reading about fire. Tomorrow, you learn how to hold it without burning your fingers."
Stars sat alone for a moment, processing the data.
Cloud World. World Essence. Immortality.
The scope of his existence had just expanded from a castle to infinity. He slid off the chair, his feet hitting the stone floor. He walked toward the training yard.
He was ready to burn.