The rest of his class followed in the wake of Professor Mordrane, who was moving like a woman possessed, clearly trying to be done with her task quickly so she could return to whatever she was doing before class. Klarion followed at the back of the group by himself, but he did not mind. In fact, he mostly ignored the students walking in front of him, as he found the sprawling campus of the Imperial Academy far more interesting. Still new to living here, he was easily distracted by nearly everything he passed as he followed the students in front of him to the Hall of Bonds.

The late morning sun cast long shadows over well-worn stone paths, and students outside of his own class moved briskly to and from their own classes. All around, the architecture of the Academy loomed — many of them grandiose stone buildings with intricate carvings of Imperial history telling stories across their walls. The sheer scale of it all brought to Klarion’s mind what Rome had been like before the war, though here was on a much larger scale.

“This place is insane,” Klarion muttered to himself.

He continued trying to take in as much as he could, thinking that it might be useful to have a better understanding of how to navigate campus in the future. It was at that point he began to notice it was no longer exclusively first-year scions walking around. Older scions — marked with two or three gold stars on the left side of their chests — strode past with an air of confidence that made Klarion feel small in comparison. All were accompanied by imposing bodyguards who moved with practiced ease, guarding their charges with an unblinking watchfulness.

A pair of older scions, a man and a woman, both human, wandered past the other side of his line of classmates. Both were wearing the same uniforms as every other scion around them, but with three gold stars on their chests. The man had long, dark hair tied back in an elaborate knot, and his companion was a striking woman with pale blonde hair, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd with a predator’s awareness. But it wasn’t the pair of scions who seized Klarion’s attention. It was the bodyguards flanking them.

Behind the man walked a hulking figure dressed in full plate armor, an enormous double-bladed axe slung across his back. He was over seven feet tall, his broad shoulders a wall of muscle. Klarion couldn’t even tell what race the bodyguard was, as beyond every inch of his body being covered by armor, he also wore a black iron mask stylized to look like a weeping demon. When that mask shifted in his direction, Klarion felt attention so much more bloodthirsty than when J-65’s mask had examined him just the other day.

At the almost tangible feeling of bloodlust being directed his way, Klarion jerked his eyes over to the other bodyguard. Smaller and more agile in appearance, she had a vast array of blades strapped to her leather-armored sides. Green hair framed a face of yellow skin and long, pointed ears. Guessing she was some race of elf, she was constantly scanning for threats. When her eyes landed on Klarion, he knew what a mouse must feel like when it senses a hawk hovering over them.

As soon as they arrived, the pair of scions and their intimidating protectors were past and on their way to what looked to be another lecture hall of some sort. Turning his attention back to where he was walking, he was starting to realize just exactly how many bodyguards hovered in the shadows of scions going about their day. No first-years had any yet, but every scion that had been at the Academy longer than one year had them.

They were everywhere.

Some carried obvious weapons, others had nothing visible, relying solely on their physical presence to deter potential threats. Some were clearly skilled in the arts of magic, their eyes glowing faintly with arcane power. None struck fear in him quite so much as the pair that had already passed him, but from what little he could tell, there were more than a few bodyguards around that he wouldn’t want to tangle with in a fight.

To be fair, however, it wasn’t just the bodyguards that Klarion sometimes found intimidating. Some of the students themselves radiated power, as he found out when the line of students before him shifted in a wave to the right before continuing on after Professor Mordrane. At first, he was not sure why they had shifted as one in that direction.

That was when he saw her.

She stood with a quiet authority, her presence immediately commanding attention away from the bodyguard at her back. Her antlers, thick and dark, curled back from her head like branches from an ancient tree, each curve a testament to some unique heritage Klarion was completely unfamiliar with. The elegant antlers framed her sharp, angular face, giving her an almost regal appearance, as if she were a creature of the forest, both beautiful and formidable. Her eyes, a piercing shade of amber, gleamed with a quiet intensity, reflecting a sharp intellect and a hint of something more primal. Her skin was a smooth, dusky bronze, marked with faint symbols that hinted at strange, perhaps even sacred, rituals. The lines of her body were lithe but strong, her posture unyielding, and the way she carried herself spoke of someone used to being obeyed without question. Her clothing, for all that it was the same uniform Klarion himself wore, seemed to accentuate her otherworldly appearance, adding to her intimidating presence.

Though her expression remained mostly neutral, there was something in the way she shifted in place — graceful, but with a sense of restrained power — that gave off the impression that she could easily dominate any room with a single word. The students walking before him took pains to look anywhere else but at her, almost as if trying to avoid the gaze of something far older, and more dangerous, than any mere scion. Curious despite himself, Klarion’s eyes went back to her face as he moved past her.

Her amber eyes were fixed on him.

As he followed in the wake of his class, a voice reached him. Like a soft breeze, it carried with it an ethereal quality that seemed to float on the air. It was lilting, melodic, almost like a song carried from some fey lands.

“My, aren’t you a fascinating one… Klarion.”

Klarion froze in the wake of that soft voice sending a chill through him. He spun back around, heedless of how foolish he looked, heart racing. He expected to see her standing where she had been but a moment before, but she and her bodyguard had vanished. It was as if the wind itself had swallowed them, leaving only her voice in its wake.

He clenched his fists, his mind a storm of frustration and unease. This was the second time this had happened in as many days. Random strangers — people he had never met — knew his name. Hector, he understood. His fellow first-year had been present at the same time in the Amphitheater of Induction, after all. But how did this strange woman know his name within moments of laying eyes on him? The worst part was, he couldn’t even think of a way to get any answers. Even if he could find someone who might be able to help, the atmosphere of intrigue that permeated this campus meant he would be unable to trust them or the answers they might give him. That, combined with the continual cryptic words and knowing looks from other first-years, only deepened his irritation. He wasn’t someone who enjoyed being toyed with, and the longer it went on, the more his anger simmered. He just had not realized that until this moment.

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The rest of his class, not noticing anything about how he had whirled back around to confront a scion no longer there, simply kept following behind Professor Mordrane toward a building that loomed ahead. Trying his best to put the strange experience out of his mind, and with it the anger he knew he would have to address at some point, Klarion rushed to catch up as his classmates began making their way into the building that was apparently the Hall of Bonds.

Stone columns framed the entrance, again decorated with carvings of figures from the Empire’s history. Where other buildings displayed battles or great figures from the past, however, these columns displayed something different. Rather than triumphant figures bedecked in armor, or strange creatures facing off with Imperial forces, there were lines of figures wearing uniforms much like the one Klarion now wore. Behind and all around them marched a menagerie of beings both humanoid and monstrous. As he drew closer to the open doors of the building, the last student to go inside, he saw that the stances of the figures were clearly protective. How appropriate for the building where his class would be picking out bodyguards.

The interior nearly took his breath away. The Hall of Bonds stretched wide and tall, the walls made of the same polished marble that adorned so many buildings around campus. They glimmered in the light filtering through the high-arched windows. The floors themselves, rather than the stone he had expected, were made of dark, glossy wood, their surface reflecting beams of light scattered across the floor by elegant, hanging crystal chandeliers. And then he saw the people, his classmates, and professor among them.

The atmosphere felt busy, yet controlled. To his right, a long row of cubicles seemed to be set up for scions and bodyguards to speak with attendants or to complete paperwork. They were eerily similar to those held by office buildings back on Earth, but unlike those, these cubicles seemed to have a translucent glass that could be made opaque for privacy should a scion request it. One flicked solid as he was looking at it in fact. Beyond those sitting inside, attendants dressed in dark, formal robes, moved quickly about, their expressions impassive as they dealt with whatever business was assigned to them. Sentinels stood motionless along the walls, likely present to dissuade any spats between rival scions.

Klarion’s eyes flitted nervously over the area, but before he could take in more details, he heard a clink of glasses, and his gaze shifted toward the far side of the hall. There, in the center, stood a well-appointed bar — glimmering gold and silver fixtures adding a touch of opulent luxury to its already refined aura. Even this early in the day, there were a few scions lounging near the bar, their conversations filled with laughter and easy camaraderie. They were clearly upper-classmen, seasoned scions who had been in the Academy for years, and their smug expressions conveyed they belonged. The booths surrounding the bar, soft and plush from what Klarion could see, were arranged for comfort. Some few of them had scions lounging, idly looking in the direction of the new first-years coming into the Hall of Bonds for the first time. A less charitable part of Klarion would say they were sizing up the competition. But then again, based on what he was increasingly learning about the Academy, that was probably exactly what they were doing.

Hector came up beside him and pointed to a hallway on the far side of the wall. “This way. There will be less of a line,” he said, then made his way through the bustling room.

Klarion followed, trying not to feel too much like a fish out of water around so many other scions who apparently knew what they were doing. He could hear fragments of conversation as he followed Hector. Scions haggling over contracts, some laughing, others deep in negotiation. Hector seemed entirely unaffected by the air of high society and business around them, a fact that was not lost on him.

They soon passed through an archway and into a smaller, less ornate hallway off the main hall. The mood here was noticeably different — more serious, more intense. Klarion saw several groups of third-year scions clustered together along the walls, their faces drawn in concentration as they discussed in low tones. What little he had heard before glares from a nearby table made him pick up his pace made his blood go cold.

Klarion stopped in his tracks as they entered another room. He blinked, processing the sight before him. Several tables were scattered around the lesser hall, each with a group of scions sitting behind them, going over documents with the assistance of attendants. Combined with what he had overheard coming into the room, it only took him seconds to understand what was happening around him. These scions were bidding on other individuals. It wasn’t just about buying their services either. In a flash of insight, Klarion saw each negotiation as a scion attempting to secure future power, to bring individuals or whole groups of people under their control to do so.

“Are they… bidding on people?” he asked Hector quietly, already knowing the answer.

Hector turned to look at him, his expression unreadable. “Yes, they are. It’s not exactly the most comfortable thing to watch, but it’s how it works here.”

Klarion swallowed his anger, glancing over at a table in disbelief and disgust as a fat scion was chuckling with happiness at a cheap deal for a family of some kind of craftsmen. “How can they… How can they sell people?”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Hector said, his expression still guarded. “Sometimes it’s just debts that need to be paid. Many more of the people who are sold here are willing participants — they’ve sold themselves or their families to gain access to resources, connections, or power. For many, that’s how it works when you’re trying to climb the ladder of power in the Empire.”

Klarion nodded slowly to Hector, but his stomach twisted. He wasn’t sure what he had expected from this place, but it certainly wasn’t to see the Imperial version of the slave auctions he had learned about back in high school on Earth.

“These people around us are other scions?”

“The vast majority yes, though my cousin mentioned there are occasional VIPs for more exotic… prizes,” Hector confirmed. “The Hall of Bonds was built to encourage things like this. But it’s mostly the older students — upperclassmen who’ve been here for several years and have collected enough coins and resources to trade them for servants and followers for their plans after graduation. Though some first-years who are especially diligent in their efforts might be able to engage in something like this too.”

Klarion was still grappling with the reality of what he was seeing. This place, one of unimaginable wealth and power, still remained one of deep, entrenched inequalities. The fact that he by chance found himself near the top of the pile did not change his sensitivity to what he was witnessing.

“Let’s move on,” Hector suggested after Klarion said nothing else. “This part’s not really our concern yet.”

Passing through the lesser hall brought them to another area. Larger and more imposing than the previous room, the walls were lined with large, heavy doors that had various numbers on them. Fewer attendants were around, which made sense when Klarion saw one at the far end open one of the doors to lead what looked to be another first-year inside. The door closed behind them.

“From what the attendant I spoke to said, these are the doors to the various Training Halls where we will be given opportunities to meet potential bodyguards.” Hector gestured towards the nearest doors. “From what they said, we will see some real power being wielded here. This is where scions come to form bonds with those who become their bodyguards. ”

Klarion nodded, though he was still trying to understand. His nerves were still on edge from the previous room they had been in, and the sight of these rooms only intensified that feeling. The idea of walking into one of the rooms was suddenly daunting, and Klarion again felt a cold sense of realization. This was it. The place where someone, a complete stranger, would be bound to him as a bodyguard.

“So, what do I do now?” Klarion asked, trying to keep his expression even.

“You choose,” Hector shrugged, then began making his way to the nearest door. He called over his shoulder, “Just remember the advice I gave you, and you will do better than many scions selecting their first bodyguard. I will see you later, or failing that, I will see you in class. Good luck.”