I wheezed on the deck, every muscle in my body shaking. My forehead rested against the cool metal floor, slick with my own sweat. My lungs burned, desperate for air. I forced a ragged breath, then coughed.
Metal joints hissed around me. The ship’s engines hummed in my ears. My vision blurred. I tried to focus on the overhead lights, but they flared and spun whenever I shifted. Footsteps approached, slow and steady. Then a hand on my shoulder.
“Here,” Fenn said. His voice quivered. I felt the smooth rim of a waterskin press against my lips. My mouth was dry as sand, so I gulped. Warm water flooded my throat. It tasted stale and metallic, but I had never needed anything more.
I propped myself on my elbows, arms trembling. My tunic clung to my skin, soaked with sweat. Fenn bent beside me, worry etched on his face. His brows pinched together.
“Draven,” he murmured, “breathe. Slowly.”
I tried. My chest rose in small, quick jolts. I fought for calm. After a moment, I managed to steady the worst of it. My heart pounded like a drum.
Then I heard the unmistakable scrape of Paraius Sectus’s boots on the deck. I forced my gaze up. He stood there in his black robe, arms folded. His silvered hair framed a stern expression. A faint twitch at the edge of his thin lips hinted at something close to approval.
He inclined his head. “You felt it, didn’t you?”
I swallowed and nodded. My throat ached from gasping.
He offered no sympathy. Instead, he lowered himself to one knee, eyes examining me like a puzzle. “Your father asked me to help. This is not a typical arrangement. Remember that. You’re not supposed to receive any advanced training before the Academy. But I owe Lord Marryk a favor.”
I shifted, leaning back on my palms. My lungs still spasmed. The spell he had me practice only moments ago had left me drained. He’d insisted I channel raw magic through my body, forcing open new pathways.
“You did well,” Sectus said. He spoke in that measured tone, each word clipped. “Despite your trembling, you managed to direct your energy. That first step is the hardest. And the most painful.”
I wiped sweat from my brow, arms shaking.
“Painful,” I croaked. “More than I expected.”
“Yes,” he said. He placed a fingertip on my forearm, pressed gently, and I winced. “Raw magic builds new vessels inside you, forming new veins, nodes, and capillaries - more will develop as you grow stronger. If you do this incorrectly, you could collapse or worse. But you followed instructions.”
Fenn squeezed my shoulder. He kept the waterskin near my lips, and I took another small sip. My vision swam, but the water helped.
Sectus rose and gave me a curt nod. “Three days to reach Karam Sil. I will teach you more each day. Small exercises. Enough to ease your transition.”
I tried to catch my breath. My ribs tingled in an unpleasant way. “Is this… frowned upon?”
“It is.” Sectus glanced at the bulkhead. He flicked his gaze over the pipes overhead, then back to me.
“The Arcus Aracnum Academy insists novices arrive untaught, so they can shape you from scratch. I am bypassing protocol. But your father paid handsomely for this. And,” he paused, lips pursed, “I was there when you were born. I suppose I harbor some… sentiment.”
His voice dropped at that last word. He sounded almost resigned. I remembered the day I first saw him with our tribute. He gave no hint of caring. Now, I sensed a flicker of something more human beneath that cold exterior.
I pushed myself upright, butt on the floor, knees bent. Fenn hovered at my side, eyes scanning my face as though checking for signs of collapse. I nodded a silent thanks. My breathing slowed to a rough, steady rhythm.
Sectus clasped his hands behind his back. “We will continue tomorrow. For now, rest. But first, you should understand a few fundamentals. We shouldn’t push your body too far.”
He stepped away, pacing a short distance. I managed to prop myself better, bracing against a cargo crate behind me. My clothes still clung uncomfortably, but the floor felt cool on my legs.
Sectus stopped and turned to face me. “There are three mage categories. You know them by name, I assume, but not by nature. Let me explain.”
I nodded, focusing on his voice.
He held up three fingers.
“Controller. Transmitter. Enchanter.” He curled one finger down with each explanation. “A Controller manipulates external forces—summons, illusions, sometimes daemons. A Transmitter channels power outward—elemental blasts, direct offense, but a few are able to create shields. Enchanters imbue objects or living beings with magic—healing, fortifications, artifacts.”
My lips parted. “My father said I’m… a Controller, like you.”
“Yes,” Sectus said. “We sense it in how you saved your mother. You shaped the space around her. You cast a tether of will. Very typical of a Controller. What you performed is known as Elementary Magic, something almost anyone, including Non-Controllers, can perform. In your case, it was simple Telekinesis.”
Fenn, still kneeling, glanced up in mild fascination. He didn’t speak, but his brows rose.
Sectus went on, voice low and steady. “The Empire encourages mages to form Triads. Three mages, each from a different category. In an Academy, you’ll join a Trinity Team. You will learn to work in harmony. You’ll cover each other’s weaknesses. That’s how the Empire structures its magical power.”
I reached for the waterskin again. My throat felt scratchy. I gave it a quick sip. “A Triad. So I’ll have two partners? I assume I’ll have to make good friends with these people?”
He tipped his head, eyes narrowing. “Precisely. In the Academy and beyond, you’ll fight, train, and even climb the political ladder together. That bond is crucial.”
I recalled Father mentioning something about Triads. My mind flickered with images of three robed figures standing in unison. I tried to imagine the synergy, the combined force. A swirl of curiosity mingled with the ache in my bones.
Sectus folded his arms again. “You’ll also hear about a concept called the Second Awakening. That is when a mage discovers his Magical Focus. Each mage wields a power unique to them. Perhaps necromancy, illusions, or something else. No two focuses are the same.”
My brow furrowed. “So… if I’m a Controller, I can do illusions, or I can do summons. But the actual shape of my power might differ from another Controller’s?”
“Yes,” he said. “You might excel in telepathy or bestial summoning, or you might manipulate the dead. Or something more subtle. The possibilities are endless.”
A chill fluttered across my skin. I remembered the swirl of warmth I felt back home, the day Mother nearly fell. That had been raw, unfiltered. If there was more… The thought sent a flicker of excitement through my chest.
He eyed me. “Don’t get ideas of grandeur yet. Many focuses are quite mundane, or they come at a high cost. The Second Awakening can be harrowing. Painful. You’ll learn soon enough.”
My fingers twitched on the waterskin. Another wave of worry coiled in my gut. More pain. More unpredictable transformations. But I swallowed and gave him a curt nod.
He sighed. “At the Academy, you’ll face more than magic. Students there form alliances, forge rivalries. They engage in power struggles, both literal and political. Many instructors encourage it. They see adversity as a crucible that refines skill.”
I rubbed my shoulder. The memory of today’s training still throbbed beneath my skin. “So, they… push us to fight each other?”
He shrugged. “To an extent. They believe it fosters growth. Expect manipulation, intrigue, and public duels. Even sabotage at times.”
Fenn made a soft noise beside me. He looked uneasy. His lips parted, but he hesitated to speak.
Sectus shook his head. “You must prepare more than your magic, Draven. Build physical endurance. You saw how your body struggled just now. When you stand in the ring against a Transmitter hurling flames, you’ll need to run, dodge, or fight back. Otherwise, your magic alone won’t save you.”
I tried to roll my shoulders. My muscles still ached. “I see.”
“You’re a noble. You likely had some sword or staff training. But it’s not enough. Keep training. The Academy will expect it.”
I flexed my hands, grimacing at how they shook. “I understand.”
Sectus nodded once.
“Good. That’s all for now.” He began to turn, then paused. “Return to your quarters and rest. We’ll continue tomorrow.”
With that, he swept away, robes trailing. He said nothing more. I exhaled, relief and exhaustion mingling in the hollow of my chest. My heart still thudded.
Fenn helped me to my feet. My knees wobbled. We made our way through the corridor, which hummed with the ship’s engines. A few Imperial crew passed us, giving fleeting glances. I cringed at the thought of my sweaty, disheveled state. But none paused to question.
We reached the small cabin that Father had reserved for me. It was modest: a single bunk, a narrow closet, and a tiny window. Fenn had a bunk in an adjacent closet-sized space. Not exactly a luxury liner. I edged inside, flopping onto the bunk with a groan. My limbs felt heavy, weighed down by fatigue.
Fenn hovered in the doorway.
“Do you need anything else?” he asked softly.
I rubbed my eyes. “I think I just need rest.”
He nodded. Then a small grin tugged at his mouth. “I’m impressed, you know. I stood at the corner, saw that swirl of energy around you.”
A flush crept to my face. “I was mostly in pain.”
He let out a quiet laugh. “Sure. But you kept at it. That’s something.”
I cracked a weary smile. My gaze flicked around the cabin. A single trunk sat at the foot of the bunk, filled with clothes, journals, trinkets from home. My chest tightened. I missed Tarianis already.
Fenn stepped closer, crossing his arms. “I’m glad I’m here, Draven.”
I shifted upright against the wall. “I’m glad too. Having you around… helps. I don’t feel so alone.”
His grin widened. “It’s a dream for me. I get to see the galaxy. My mother used to talk about star systems, trade routes, strange worlds. I wanted to leave Tarianis for so long. Now, here we are.”
I recalled the orchard back home, the fields. Fenn and I used to run around them when we were younger, pretending we were explorers charting unknown terrain.
“Yeah,” I said. “Never thought we’d end up leaving together.”
His expression flickered with curiosity. “You’re the heir, after all. Usually, that means you’d stay put, right?”
I chuckled, but it sounded hollow. “Yes. I was meant to. Though I guess that changed the moment I manifested magic.”
He nodded, lips pursed. “I… I wonder sometimes why your brother Mallos didn’t take your father’s seat. I mean, that’s usually the oldest sibling’s right.”
My brow arched slightly. “You never heard the story?”
Fenn shook his head. “No. Your father never explained it publicly, and Mallos didn’t talk about it much.”
I took a slow breath, rubbing the back of my neck. “Well, Mallos didn’t want to be tied down. He wants to join the Adventurer’s Guild. They roam uncharted space, conquer alien worlds, then sell them off to the highest bidder. He’s set on that life. Father didn’t see the point in forcing him to stay.”
Fenn’s eyes widened a fraction. “Huh. He’s leaving Tarianis?”
“Yes. When he turns twenty - around two years from now.” I lowered my gaze to my hands. “No point in a Planetary Governor who hates the job. Father recognized that. So the seat passed to me.”
Fenn leaned against the door frame. He fiddled with a small seam in his trousers.
“That’s… a big shift. So Mallos becomes an adventurer, and you become Governor. Then you manifested magic.” He shook his head, letting out a soft exhale. “Life’s strange.”
I nodded, my throat tight. “Now I’m heading to some Academy to train as a mage, and Mallos will probably be off-world, exploring unknown sectors.”
He offered a sympathetic shrug. “Maybe it’ll all make sense in time. You’ll learn magic. He’ll roam the galaxy. At least your father has Hadrien left to help him run things until you’re back.”
My lips twitched at that thought. Hadrien was the quieter one, but steadfast and intelligent in a bookish sort of way. Father could rely on him, I supposed. “Yeah… I guess so.”
Fenn eyed me carefully. “Get some sleep, Draven. You look like you’ll collapse. I’m right next door if you need anything.”
I gave him a weary nod. “Thank you, Fenn.”
He slipped out, sliding the cabin door shut. Silence pressed in. The hum of the ship lulled me into a half-doze. My body still ached from the magical exercise, and my mind churned with the day’s revelations. We had just started the journey to Karam Sil, and already I felt battered.
I closed my eyes, letting the darkness envelop my thoughts.
----------------------------------------
I woke to the hiss of the cabin door. Pale light filtered through the small window. I sensed the subtle shift of the ship’s engines, likely adjusting course. My body still felt worn, but the throbbing in my muscles had eased.
Paraius Sectus stood at the threshold, arms folded. “Rise.”
I blinked, rubbing sleep from my eyes.
“Master Sectus,” I mumbled, pushing off the bunk. “Is it time for more training?”
He lifted a brow. “No. I need you to join me in the lounge for a briefing on galactic politics. Your father insisted you understand the broader landscape. Since we have days in transit, now is as good a time as any.”
I inhaled slowly, fighting a flare of tension. My legs wobbled slightly when I stood, but I managed to steady myself. “All right.”
He stepped aside, letting me pass. We moved through the narrow corridor, taking a set of metal steps upward. The lounge area was cramped, just a round table and a few chairs, with a long window showing the star-speckled void outside. Fenn was there, glancing up when we arrived. He had a half-eaten biscuit in his hand.
Sectus motioned for us to sit. He settled across from me, leaning forward on his elbows. “This vessel belongs to the Triune Empire, but that does not mean we travel alone. The galaxy is large, Draven. Our next port might hold not just Imperials, but also members of other factions. You must know them.”
Fenn nibbled his biscuit, gaze flicking to me. I gave him a small nod, then focused on Sectus.
“Right,” I said.
Sectus cleared his throat, pausing to fold his hands. “First, the Triune Empire itself. You know we are governed by the Imperial Triad and the Dumat, a council of nine hundred triads. Their power is absolute in matters of magic and law. Our territory is large, perhaps the largest, but this status fluctuates. We hold extensive star systems, each required to produce tribute.”
I stifled a small twitch of annoyance at the mention of tribute, remembering the farmland back home. But I kept my posture still.
He continued, voice even. “Then we have the Terran Technocracy. They control Earth, the cradle of humanity. They despise magic, believing in technology and bio-engineering. They excel in science, can create advanced weapons and starships that rival our magitech. Relations are… tense. We each view the other’s approach as misguided, alongside an endless list of historical grievances.”
Fenn’s brow furrowed. “So they have no mages, right?”
Sectus gave a terse nod. “Correct. They abhor magic. They focus on reason, biology, quantum mechanics. They possess the Quantum Gate network, allowing instantaneous travel between gates - devices so advanced that, in function, they may as well be magical. Their ships are faster, smaller, and more agile. To counter our Mages, they have their Prometheans - supersoldiers and wonders of genetic engineering. They are not to be underestimated. Once, long ago, in the days of the Old Empire, we and they were one, but that’s ancient history.”
He let that hang in the air. I thought of Tarianis’s farmland, the tribute wagons, the magic the Empire valued so highly. The Terran Technocracy would see it all as silly superstition, perhaps.
Sectus pressed on. “Next is the Brethren Conglomerate: pirates, mercenaries, rogue mages, freebooters. They live on the fringes, controlling artificial habitats or hidden space stations. They’ll do anything for profit, employing both magic and stolen technology. They’re a nuisance, but occasionally useful. The Empire sometimes hires them as deniable assets.”
Fenn’s eyes widened a fraction. “They sound… chaotic.”
“They are,” Sectus agreed, lips thin. “But they’re united by a code. Betrayal within their ranks means death. So they remain cohesive enough to function. They own smaller territory, if you can call it that, scattered throughout space.”
I grimaced, imagining lawless enclaves afloat in the void. “So they’re not an official government.”
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Sectus shook his head. “No. They’re a loose collective. But they have cunning leaders, some of whom are powerful mages. Their knowledge of the galaxy’s underbelly is unmatched.”
He paused, letting us digest that. I noticed the faint hum of the ship’s systems again, a gentle reminder of how small this lounge was compared to the vastness outside.
Finally, Sectus lifted his gaze to the window. “Then there is the Trade Union—an extra-galactic entity. They move from system to system in massive fleets, buying and selling exotic matter, ancient artifacts, and advanced technologies. They are considered untouchable. Even we do not dare to cross them openly. The Terran Technocracy, the Triune Empire, and the Brethren Conglomerate all rely on them for supplies that cannot be obtained elsewhere.”
Fenn sat straighter. “They’re that powerful?”
Sectus nodded. “Yes. Their neutrality is their shield. If any faction dares attack them, the entire flow of vital goods stops. The attacker becomes isolated, losing advanced resources. That would be a crippling blow to any of the three main powers.”
I drummed my fingertips on the table. “So the galaxy is basically these three big factions at each other’s throats, plus the Trade Union navigating between them.”
Sectus gave a quiet hum. “More or less. The Triune Empire, the Terran Technocracy, and the Brethren Conglomerate each hold a significant portion of human space. The Trade Union remains above it all, trading with everyone, protecting their secrets. And in the cracks, you’ll find small kingdoms, principalities, or corporate states. They’re allowed to exist because conquering them isn’t worth the trouble.”
I recalled Father’s words about Tarianis being a protectorate. We were large enough to interest the Empire, but not so large as to challenge them. My stomach twisted at the memory of Paraius Sectus collecting tribute.
Sectus tapped the table once, a sharp sound. “In the Academy, you’ll meet scions of noble families, wards from other protectorates, even potential spies. The Empire encourages these webs of intrigue, as it fosters cunning. You must adapt quickly.”
Fenn lowered his half-eaten biscuit. “That’s a lot to worry about.”
I nodded, my shoulders tensing. “Yes. More than I imagined.”
Sectus rose, adjusting the collar of his robe. “Enough for now. We’ll continue your magical exercises tomorrow as I see no need to rush things. Until then, I suggest you both rest or explore the ship. The final day of travel should be used wisely.”
I stood as well, noticing a dull ache still in my thighs. “Of course, Master Sectus.”
He gave a curt nod, then strode out, leaving us at the table. I glanced at Fenn. He just blew out a soft breath, eyes lingering on the closed door.
“Didn’t realize the galaxy was such a mess,” he muttered. He finished his biscuit, though he ate in small bites, as if lost in thought. “I guess we’ll see it firsthand soon.”
I reached for a mug of water that someone had left on the table. It had gone lukewarm, but I sipped it anyway. My gaze drifted to the window. Starlight glimmered in an endless sea of black.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “We will.”
A hush settled between us. The ship rumbled, adjusting its course again. I let the swirl of cosmic emptiness beyond the glass remind me how large everything was. Tarianis felt so small now.
After a minute, Fenn stood. “I’ll go see if the mess hall has more biscuits. You need anything?”
I shook my head. “I’m all right. Thanks.”
He offered a faint grin, then slipped out. I wandered to the window, pressing my palm against the cool glass. The reflection of my face stared back. My eyes looked tired, ringed by faint shadows. I thought of Father’s distant tone when he parted from me. I thought of Mother’s teary smile, Mallos’s smirk when he teased me about ‘spacers and wizards.’ Then my mind flicked to the Academy. A swirl of nerves tightened in my gut.
Controllers, Transmitters, Enchanters. A Triad. The Second Awakening. Political feuds. My destiny.
I closed my eyes, letting the hush of the lounge soothe me. I felt so unprepared, yet part of me wanted to dive into it, prove I could handle the challenges. Father believed I could. Mallos would never say it, but I suspected he thought so too.
Eventually, I left the lounge, wandering the corridors. Crew members in Imperial uniforms crossed my path, some nodding in polite greeting. I responded with slight bows, trying to remember that I was a noble scion. They recognized my station, though I sensed an undercurrent of curiosity about me. Perhaps they knew I was a newly discovered mage.
Word travels fast among Imperial ranks.
I ended up in a small observation bay at the rear of the ship. A wide window offered a view of swirling cosmic dust behind us. The engines glowed faintly below, casting a dull illumination. I sank onto a bench, just watching the stars drift by. My mind replayed Sectus’s words about the galaxy’s factions. Terran Technocracy with their gates and advanced technology. The Conglomerate skulking on the fringes. The Empire at the center, weaving everything together with magic. And the Trade Union above it all, dealing in goods no one else could supply.
It felt surreal. Back on Tarianis, the only real presence was the Triune Empire’s. We rarely met outsiders. But now I would be thrown into a swirling pot of alliances and rivalries.
Footsteps approached again. I glanced over my shoulder, half expecting Fenn or Sectus. Instead, a young Imperial officer in a neatly pressed uniform stepped in. He spotted me, paused, then gave a quick bow.
“My lord,” he said politely. “Apologies. I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”
I gave a small shake of my head. “No need to apologize. I’m just… passing time.”
The officer’s eyes lit with curiosity. He nodded. “Welcome aboard, then, my lord. My father was from a protectorate world too. I… guess I understand how strange it is leaving home.”
Something in my posture relaxed a little. I offered a tentative smile. “It is strange. I’m still adjusting.”
He motioned to the bench. “Mind if I sit?”
I shifted to make room. He settled beside me, hands clasped. “Name’s Tival. I handle navigation for short-range jumps on the lower deck.”
“Draven Dorwyne,” I said, which felt a bit silly since he clearly knew who I was. But courtesy demanded it.
He offered a knowing smile.
“I know. But good to meet you properly.” He glanced at the window. “Hyperspace travel can be dull after a while. Sometimes I come here to clear my head.”
I nodded, letting my gaze drift to the swirling stars. “Same. The quiet helps.”
A brief lull passed. Tival cleared his throat. “If you’re heading to the Arcus Aracnum, you’ll have quite an adventure. My cousin studied there—he was a Transmitter. He wrote about it in letters. Tough place. Lots of competition.”
I fiddled with my cloak’s edge, remembering what Sectus said about political feuds. “I know. Master Paraius told me that. But what did your cousin see, firsthand?”
“Everything,” Tival replied, eyebrows lifting. “Duels, debates, strategic games, social maneuvering, even assassinations. He told me they pit you against each other to sharpen your skills. My cousin… well, he thrived on it, but he had to watch his back constantly.”
My stomach sank. “Sounds exhausting.”
He let out a muted laugh. “Yes, but the ones who graduate become the Empire’s elite - one of them, anyway. Arcus Aracnum’s hardly at the top of the echelon when it comes to Arcane Academia, but it is among the most respected.”
I nodded. My mind whirled with questions, but Tival stood, straightening his uniform. “I have to get back, but good luck, Lord Draven. The Academy’s tough, but you’ll do fine if you keep your wits.”
I managed a thin smile. “Thank you.”
He gave a brief bow and departed. I stayed, alone with the window and my thoughts. After a while, the overhead lights dimmed, signifying an artificial night cycle. I eventually made my way back to my cabin, where Fenn had already curled up in his bunk next door. I lay in darkness, lulled by the ship’s steady hum, mind drifting between fear and a flicker of excitement about the days ahead.
----------------------------------------
Morning—if one could call it morning on a ship—came with a dull klaxon in the corridors. I found bread, dried fruit, and water in the mess hall. Fenn greeted me with a light yawn, hair sticking up in odd angles. He wore a grin that didn’t quite mask his tired eyes. I asked how he slept, and he shrugged, rolling his shoulders as though stiff.
By the time we finished, Paraius Sectus arrived, stepping in with a clipped gait. He motioned for me to join him in a more secluded corner. We spent the next hour reviewing minor magical exercises. He had me channel a spark of energy from my chest to my fingertips, urging me to visualize it like a slow current. The initial ache from yesterday was less, but I still felt pinpricks of discomfort as I coaxed the magic along.
He demanded precision—no wasted flares or bursts. A few times, my control slipped, making me gasp and nearly drop to a knee. Sectus merely folded his arms each time, giving me curt corrections.
After we finished, he nodded once. “Better. Rest again. We have another day of travel. I’ll speak with you tonight.”
I sank into a chair, breathing heavily. Fenn hovered nearby. I felt that same sense of relief that he was here. I offered him a grateful nod, and he grinned. We found ourselves with a stretch of free hours.
We decided to explore the cargo hold. A series of metal catwalks lined the tall space, crates and barrels strapped in neat rows. Fenn walked ahead, curiosity in his eyes. He traced a hand along labels, some bearing the Triune Empire’s seal, others referencing Tarianis’s ore. We recognized a few crates from home, bound for Karam Sil or beyond.
At one point, Fenn paused by a windowed viewport to watch the swirl of cosmic dust.
“So,” he said softly, “the Academy. You think you’ll handle the politics?”
I folded my arms, leaning against a metal support. “I don’t know. I’m not… I was taught to govern Tarianis, not to scheme.”
He tapped his foot. “I guess you’ll learn. And maybe I’ll see some of it if I’m allowed into the Academy grounds as your retainer.”
I pressed my lips into a thin line. “I hope so. I’d prefer not to be alone there.”
He gave a faint smile, then turned, peering at the lines of cargo. “I imagine we’ll face interesting times. People from all corners of the Empire. Maybe even children of the Dumat, or lesser nobles from other worlds.”
I toyed with a loose strap on a crate, thinking about the scale of it all. My father had once dealt with a visiting noble from another star system, and I remembered how that man carried himself—haughty, sly. Would the Academy be full of such personalities? Probably.
My stomach fluttered with nerves.
“We’ll see,” I murmured.
We wandered among the crates for a while longer, sometimes exchanging small talk. The hush of the cargo bay felt safer than the open corridors. Eventually, we retreated to the lounge to rest.
Late afternoon found me practicing a few physical drills in a small training area near the hull. Fenn joined me for push-ups and simple calisthenics. My muscles still twinged, but I powered through, determined to follow Sectus’s advice. Physical prowess was just as important as magical prowess.
Fenn and I traded jabs with practice staves. I almost knocked him off balance once. He recovered with a grin, swiping at my legs. I jumped, nearly toppling backward. My heart raced, but the exercise felt good, sweat beading on my brow for normal reasons rather than magical exhaustion. Neither of us were particularly good at fighting, but we certainly weren’t bad at it either.
When I collapsed for a breather, Fenn sat beside me, panting.
“Not bad,” he teased. “You might just survive a scuffle in the Academy.”
I chuckled, wiping my forehead. “If the scuffle is just wooden sticks, sure.”
He smirked. “One step at a time.”
Later, Paraius Sectus summoned me to the lounge again. He carried an old, leather-bound tome, which he spread on the table. I approached with caution. The runes on its cover gleamed faintly.
“I want you to see something,” Sectus said, flipping to a page with intricate diagrams. “This is a historical text used by the Empire. It details the structure of Triads in large-scale battles. Study this page, in particular.”
I leaned in. The diagrams showed squads of mages arranged in sets of three, each group highlighting a synergy: Enchanter forging protective wards while a Transmitter unleashed ranged attacks, and a Controller subdued enemies with illusions or summons. Arrows and lines revealed how these triads linked with others, forming a complex web of combined spells. Coordination and teamwork. A chain was only ever as strong as its weakest link.
Sectus tapped the page. “In the Academy, you will form a Triad. That Triad could follow you into your future roles. Some Triads remain allied for life, becoming major political or military forces. Others dissolve after graduation - or during a semester.”
My brows knitted. “So it’s more than just school teams.”
He nodded. “Often, yes. The bond can be powerful. But it can also be disastrous if conflict arises. Choose your companions carefully.”
I exhaled slowly, eyes scanning the runes. “And I don’t get to pick them freely, do I?”
He shrugged. “Generally, the Academy assigns you to a group. But there’s room for maneuvering. If you build enough clout, you might sway the faculty’s decision.”
My mind flashed to the politicking he’d warned me about. “I see.”
He closed the book with a soft thud. “Now, tomorrow is our final day in transit. We’ll arrive at Karam Sil by midday. I’ll give you one last training session, then we part ways once we land. The Academy staff will handle you from there.”
I nodded. “You won’t stay in Karam Sil, I assume?”
He shook his head. “No. My task is done once I deliver you. The Empire has other duties for me.”
He stood, gathering the tome. “Rest now. We’ll have an early session.”
I rose to leave, but paused.
“Master Sectus,” I said, voice quiet. “Thank you.”
He glanced at me, brow lifting.
I swallowed, trying to form my thoughts. “I’m sure you had no obligation to train me early. My father’s money aside, you could have refused. So… thank you.”
His expression softened a fraction, though he quickly masked it. “You’re welcome. Make sure it is not wasted.”
I gave a small nod. He huffed, turning away. I left, letting him keep his stoic dignity.
----------------------------------------
The next morning, our final in transit, began with me bent over in pain again. The magical exercise burned through my veins. I clenched my teeth, controlling the spark that ran from my core down to my fingertips. This time, the ache was less debilitating than before. I felt shaky, but I remained standing. Sectus observed me, arms folded.
“Better,” he remarked, voice subdued.
I exhaled a trembling breath.
“Yes,” I managed. “Not so bad.”
He approached, placing a hand against my shoulder blade, checking my posture. “You’re learning to channel more efficiently. The energy flows along fewer blocked pathways.”
My limbs tingled. I forced the magic to swirl in my right palm, a faint shimmer visible in the air. It flickered, then faded. My breath caught, but I didn’t collapse. Relief eased the tension in my spine.
“You’ll do,” Sectus said. He removed his hand. “Now, if you fight a student Transmitter at the Academy, you might survive a single volley of their spells. But you have far to go before you match them in skill.”
I nodded, arms slack at my sides. Sweat trickled down my temple. “I understand. I’ll keep training.”
He gave a curt nod. “That’s enough for now. We’ll touch down at Karam Sil soon. Pack your belongings. Be ready.”
With that, he strode off. I let out a slow breath, muscles still twitching. Fenn came forward from the corner, hands fidgeting.
“You looked steadier,” he said, voice pitched low.
I mustered a small grin. “Felt steadier. Still not pleasant, though.”
He offered me a towel, which I used to wipe sweat from my brow and neck.
“We’ll be landing soon,” he repeated, echoing Sectus. “Finally.”
I set the towel aside, glancing down at my trembling fingers. “Right. Let’s go pack.”
We headed to our cabins, where we gathered the last of our things. My trunk was already mostly ready, but I checked each item. Cloaks, tunics, a few personal keepsakes. Father’s signet ring, which he insisted I bring. A small locket from Mother. A handful of letters from my siblings. My hands lingered on the ring, turning it in the dull light.
Fenn helped secure everything, then we stepped into the corridor. A muffled announcement from the ship’s intercom told passengers to brace for atmospheric entry. I felt a flutter in my stomach. Karam Sil. My new home for the next five years. Possibly longer, if I failed or if the Empire demanded more.
At the lounge, Paraius Sectus awaited. He stood near a side hatch that led to the shuttle bay. The main vessel would remain in orbit, but a smaller craft would carry us to the planet’s surface. I looked out the window at the swirl of clouds and the faint outlines of a mountainous region below. The sky tinted gray, and the planet’s horizon glowed with a dull pink hue.
“It’s a cold world,” Sectus said, catching my glance. “Prepare for harsh climates. The Academy is set atop a high mountain. Cold winds, frequent storms.”
I adjusted my cloak. Fenn shouldered the trunk, grunting at its weight. Sectus eyed me once more, as if appraising my posture.
He turned on his heel. “Come. The shuttle is waiting.”
We moved into the shuttle bay, a wide space filled with small crafts. Crew in gray uniforms guided us. We boarded a squat, reinforced lander. Its interior smelled of metal polish and fuel. I buckled into a seat near a narrow window. Fenn took a seat beside me, trunk secured to the cargo slot behind us. Sectus sat across, silent.
The engines roared. My stomach lurched as we dropped into the planet’s atmosphere. Turbulence rattled the cabin. Through the window, I saw thick clouds swirling. Then the craft broke through, revealing a rugged, mountainous terrain blanketed in snow. Ridges and peaks jutted skyward, their slopes covered in windswept drifts. My breath caught at the sight. I had never seen so much snow.
The pilot’s voice crackled over the comm, announcing our approach to the Arcus Aracnum Academy. I pressed my cheek to the window, eyes wide. On a plateau near the summit of a towering mountain, a cluster of dark spires rose against the stormy sky. Lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating tall walls and ramparts. It looked both imposing and mystical, a gargantuan monstrosity of a monolith that stood alone against the elements.
Fenn inhaled sharply beside me. He shot me a quick look. His eyes danced with excitement and a hint of wariness. I squeezed my hands together, trying to keep my pulse steady. This was it.
We touched down with a jarring thud. Landing thrusters hissed. The rear hatch opened, letting in a blast of frigid air. My cheeks tingled. I tightened my cloak. Outside, a vast courtyard stretched toward massive stone arches. Figures bustled about, some in thick cloaks, others in layered robes. The wind carried a biting chill that stung my lungs.
Sectus disembarked first, beckoning us. We followed. Snow crunched under my boots. My eyes watered from the cold gusts. The sky overhead was dull, choked with storm clouds. I spotted flickers of distant lightning.
A tall figure in deep purple robes stood at the courtyard’s edge, flanked by two others. She wore a metal circlet on her brow. Sectus approached her, inclining his head. I saw the lines on his face tighten.
“High Instructor Vayle,” he said. “I bring Draven Dorwyne of House Dorwyne of Tarianis, newly awakened Controller. As arranged.”
She nodded. Her hair, streaked with silver, fluttered in the wind. Her eyes drifted to me, cool and assessing. Then to Fenn, who tried not to shiver while holding our trunk.
“This is the retainer?” Vayle asked, her voice clipped.
Sectus gave a short nod. “Yes. His name is Fenn.”
She made a vague gesture, turning to me. “Welcome to Arcus Aracnum, Draven Dorwyne.” Her tone carried no warmth. “You’ll report to the Hall of Initiates for registration. Your retainer can find lodging in the auxiliary quarters. Worry not for him, retainers are protected by the Academy Staff.”
I bowed my head, though my shoulders tightened against the biting wind. “Thank you, High Instructor.”
Her gaze flicked to Sectus. “I trust the boy has not been taught improperly?”
A pause. Sectus’s lips thinned. “Only minimal guidance for safety, my lady.”
She studied him for a second, then looked away. “Very well. The Academy staff will handle the rest.”
Without waiting for more words, she and her attendants strode off. The wind whipped their robes. I stared after them. I honestly had no idea what I was expecting.
Sectus exhaled, facing me. “This is where we part ways, Draven. The Academy will direct you. I have urgent matters to attend. Your father expects a full report.”
My chest constricted. I managed a stiff nod. “Thank you, Master Sectus.”
He gave me one last searching look, then turned, stepping back toward the shuttle. Fenn and I stood alone in the courtyard, cold nipping at our ears. The swirling flakes of snow made the spires seem all the more foreboding.
Fenn hefted the trunk, adjusting his grip with a grimace. “So… where do we go?”
I scanned the courtyard. Several stone paths led toward different arches. Other new arrivals were moving in small clusters. I spotted a sign in a script I only partly recognized, pointing to a large set of double doors. “That way, I think.”
We trudged forward, boots slipping on icy patches. My cheeks felt raw from the wind. My mind buzzed with anxiety, imagining what lay beyond those doors. If the High Instructor’s frosty greeting was any sign, I’d have to prove myself quickly.
Entering the doorway, I saw a cavernous hall of carved stone. Torches lined the walls, flickering with enchanted light that gave off no smoke. More robed figures walked around, some students, some staff. A few had arms laden with books. Others hurried with determined expressions. The air smelled of old parchment and ozone, like a faint magical residue.
We approached a desk where a stern-looking clerk sat, flipping through scrolls. He glanced up, arching a brow. “Name?”
I cleared my throat. “Draven Dorwyne. New Initiate.”
He wrote something on a ledger. “Welcome. You’ll find lodging in the East Wing, second floor, room E-22. Your retainer can stay in the staff quarters next wing over. Report tomorrow morning to the Initiate Orientation in the Great Auditorium. That’s at dawn.”
Fenn’s shoulders slumped at the thought of an early start, but he gave a polite nod. I swallowed, forcing my voice out. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”
He grunted, waving us on.
We followed a winding corridor lit by glowing crystals set into the walls. Each step echoed on the polished floor. My breath formed small clouds in the chilly air. The temperature inside was only marginally warmer than the courtyard. We passed a few older students who eyed us with mild interest. One snickered when he saw my trunk-laden retainer. Another smirked. I noticed the embroidered sigils on their robes—different house symbols, perhaps.
Finally, we reached the East Wing. The corridor branched off into dozens of rooms. We counted the doors until we found E-22. Inside was a cramped chamber with a single narrow bed, a desk, a small wardrobe, and a high window that revealed the swirling storm outside. I stepped in, exhaling a shaky breath.
Fenn whistled, then glanced around. “This is… cozy.”
I nodded, rubbing my arms for warmth. Cozy was a generous word. But I supposed I wouldn’t be in here much except to sleep. And to study.
“I should go find my bunk in the staff wing,” he said, shuffling his feet. “I guess I’ll meet you tomorrow? Or maybe tonight if you’re free.”
I gave him a small wave of gratitude. “Yes, let’s meet for dinner if that’s allowed. We need to figure out how this place works.”
He smirked, nodded, and slipped out. I stared after him, hearing the faint echo of footsteps as he headed down the hallway.
Then I turned to the narrow bed, letting out a long sigh. My chest felt tight, mind whirling with all I’d learned and endured the last three days. The raw magic in me still pulsed faintly, like a caged ember. This Academy bristled with new faces and hidden dangers. Yet I couldn’t deny a small thread of exhilaration.
I dropped onto the bed, exhaling. My gaze drifted to the window, where distant lightning crackled among the mountains. My reflection stared back at me in the glass, eyes uncertain. I thought of Tarianis, my father’s trust, Mother’s tears, Mallos’s free spirit. Then I recalled Paraius Sectus’s lessons and the shocking pain of channeling magic.
This was only the beginning.
But I would find my footing. I would survive the rivalries, the duels, the politics. And one day, I would return to Tarianis, not just as a Governor, but as a powerful Mage of the Triune Empire - feared and respected.