Aodhán woke up very early the next morning; however, despite his best efforts to meditate and calm his mind the previous day, his emotions still sat heavy in his chest like a block of concrete. It made him feel depressed and claustrophobic.
With a weary sigh, he pushed himself from the bed, wanting to be free from the restrictive sheets, and opened the window. A cool breeze rushed into the room, but it did nothing to alleviate his mood. Wanting to feel something else aside from the dull ache in his chest, Aodhán opened his status screen and began to review it. He needed to note where he was now so he could plan his progress for the next few weeks. There was a lot to do before the end of the semester, from the forge matches, to the simulation exercises, and from the tower challenges, to the academy tournament, which was coming up very soon. He couldn’t afford to slack off, not that he wasn’t already doing his best, but still...
Despite the break, or perhaps because of it, Aodhán noticed that many of the other students had begun lagging in their advancement. More than half of them were at the 20th tier and above, but many were still below that. Yesterday, before Lupin arrived, Aodhán had sensed nothing less than a dozen students still below tier 20, and a couple others even below that. It was bizarre, but not too surprising. Just before they had gone on the break, professor Jorendil had explained the intricacies and importance of spirit cultivation, as well as the temporary restrictions placed on the core until a person meets the requirements for further advancement.
This restriction was most common at milestone tiers, but could also occur at random tiers for different people. In essence, it was extremely hard for one to advance past milestone tiers without some form of spiritual growth or the other. Evolution was outright impossible, and now, he understood why advancing to the 25th tier was a requirement for graduation.
Fortunately, Aodhán didn’t have to worry about this problem, as he had already experienced more than enough spiritual growth to qualify for evolution at the 25th tier. Pushing the thought of spiritual restrictions to the back of his mind, Aodhán focused on his status screen and began reading.
***
[STATUS]
Name: Aodhán Ashoka-Brystion.
Title: Neophyte, Storm spirit, Bronze, Origin marked, silver, Seal bearer.
Class: Evolved storm awakened: 99.9% (PENDING)
Tier: 21—13%
Glimpse--> Opening: Increases elemental affinity and abilities by 2.5%
Techniques: Perfect will imbuement (8).
Skills {Innate}: [Storm creation and manipulation] [Lightning creation and manipulation]
{Other}: [Lightning surge] [Lightning beam] [Lightning descent] [Create constructs] [Absorb lightning] [Spear rain—Lightning] [Spear rain—Storm] [Vortex of Storm] [Vortex of Lightning][Elemental lightning—Stage 1]
Bloodline: Origin Storm supremacy. {Unique}
•Amplifies storm abilities by 3%
•Grants major resistance to lightning
•Aura of Origin supremacy.
Familiar—Dragonkin (Fury)
Perks: psychic bond, merge.
***
There weren't much changes since the last time Aodhán had reviewed his status screen, but rather than the usual cursory glance, Aodhán decided to do a more in-depth review. He was getting very close to his second evolution, which would occur when he reached the 25th tier, and although he felt tempted to begin absorbing cores and push himself to the 25th tier this very moment, he restrained himself. Rushing up tiers was dangerous. Asides the fact that it damaged the magical foundations of individuals, most people miss out on so much power by simply rushing through the tiers.
This was obvious in Daruk’s advancement, and although the side effects had been a little offset by his spiritual growth, Daruk had missed out on a lot of power within the early tiers. Realistically, taking into account Daruk’s many advantages, most prominent of which was his status as a double inheritor, Daruk had the potential to be one of the strongest in the entire kingdom; however, he had rushed through his early tiers and had failed to properly consolidate his strength and control. Daruk wasn’t too far from the peak though, thanks to the immense amount of willpower at his disposal as well as his spiritual growth, but he could have been much stronger.
After a brief glance at his tier, which remained unchanged, Aodhán tuned his attention to the next line: his buffs, or as it was referenced in his AAT textbook, Affinity Boons. The affinity boons progressed or scaled with class, and at the moment, Aodhán had reached the cap for the evolved class. Until he reached the Advanced class, he couldn’t expand his opening into an intent or a channel; however, it was only a matter of time, and frankly, he couldn’t wait.
While he studied the white-gold screen, he wondered just how much a channel or intent would increase his control and in what manner it might affect his techniques. At the moment, he only had one technique, although if he could learn Daruk’s enhancement technique, then that would make it two. Aodhán contemplated waiting for Daruk to refine the technique before learning it, but soon discarded the idea. It was better if he refined the technique himself, as that would make it much easier to adapt it to his own affinity.
His skills took his attention next, and Aodhán had to admit that he was doing well. With almost a dozen skills in his possession, he was doing much better than the average awakened. However, he could still do better. He wasn’t too eager to gain new skills, though, and was more interested in refining his control and mastery over the ones he already had. Besides, he would unlock three lightning hues with his next evolution, and he couldn’t wait to see what colors he got or what their effects would be.
He glanced at his bloodline next and grinned. He couldn’t exactly evolve a unique bloodline as it grew alongside the spirit, but if things worked out right, Aodhán intended to push his bloodline much farther than should be possible; after all, he had the willpower to spare. His perks with Varéc were next, but there wasn’t really much to analyze there, although he hoped the next perk he gained was a size-adjustment perk as Varéc was growing at a truly astounding rate. Aodhán feared that sooner rather than later, Varéc would be so large that this room wouldn’t contain him anymore.
He chuckled at the mental image and sighed before dismissing his status screen. The golden clouds of the nexus had disappeared, replaced by the dim light of dawn, and when Aodhán checked the time, he realized he only had about an hour before the assembly was to commence. Not wanting to be late, Aodhán made his way to the bathroom, and half an hour later, he was dressed and ready to leave. With a flick of his right hand, he created his signature scarf, wrapped it around his neck, and without hesitation, he jumped out of the window, not in any mood to deal with Imani, Meredith, or any of his other housemates.
When he arrived at the front lawn of house 1, he found Daruk and Andrew already waiting for him, although they seemed only to have arrived.
“Do you guys never sleep?” He asked as he descended to the ground, and Andrew scowled. “Why are you here so early? We were just betting on how long it would take you to arrive this time.”
“You’re betting on my behavior?” Aodhán asked, slightly offended, and Daruk shrugged as he flipped a gold coin between his fingers. “You didn’t think we’ve been waiting for you all these weeks just because we like you, did you?”
Andrew snorted. “That would have been foolish. Right? Who would ever think such a thing?”
Aodhán frowned, not exactly sure if he was being mocked or not. Of course, he’d thought Daruk and Andrew had been waiting for him out of the goodness of their hearts. He should have known better.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Daruk chuckled and shook his head. “You just made me lose a gold coin, brother; I suppose you can take comfort in that.”
Before Aodhán could respond that he was in no need of comforting, Andrew cut in with a glare at Daruk. “Just because you’ve won every bet for the last four weeks doesn’t mean you would have won this one.”
Daruk scowled as if he were being scolded by a child. “That’s exactly what it means. You’re not smart enough to win.”
Andrew took the insult personally and scowled back at Daruk. “Your face isn’t smart. Your nose is just stupid.”
While Daruk pondered the deep meaning behind Andrew’s words, Aodhán expanded the storm platform he was standing on and gestured for them to join him. “We better get going if we intend to sit at today’s assembly.”
They joined him on the construct, and as they flew towards the assembly hall, Andrew said. “I’m sorry about Lupin. How’s she faring?”
Aodhán shrugged and turned his face away to prevent them from seeing his expression. “She’s coping, I guess.”
Daruk shook his head. “It explains her lack of communication now. To think she was dealing with the death of her father while the rest of us were out partying. Just sad.”
“Right.” Aodhán nodded, not bothering to say anything else. Soon, he would have to tell them about their ‘break-up’, but for now, Aodhán just wanted to ignore the matter and enjoy his day. Not that ignoring his problems ever solved them, but Aodhán believed some problems were for his future self, and until the time came that he couldn’t ignore them anymore, he was very content to pretend they didn’t exist.
He channeled more energy into the platform, and a minute later, they arrived at the assembly hall. Unsurprisingly, it was already filled with students, but they managed to snag a trio of seats only a second before a group of second-year students did. There were still a few seats scattered around, so students spent the next few minutes squeezing themselves together, just to make sure a maximum number of people found a seat. Aodhán even noticed a hint of spatial magic being employed a few rows behind him, but it was so faint that it was barely noticeable.
Just like the first assembly, professors stood on the stage, along with several other academic staff. Even professor Faelar Dubois was in attendance, seated on an ornate construct made from lunar essence and discussing quietly with principal Zatya. The hall filled up quickly, and after what felt like an hour, principal Zatya finally stood up to address them.
She stared at them, her stance the image of strength and military discipline. She looked powerful, strict, and unapproachable, but Aodhán knew better. Under the façade she bore was a woman on the verge of insanity, driven by an inexhaustible urge to make his life hell.
“Welcome to the second half of the first semester.” She began and then let out a small smile. “I know it feels like we should be in the second semester by now, but time sadly doesn’t run that fast. I won’t be deducting any forge points today, but I have a few things I’d like to address, the first of which is the tension that afflicted you all before the break as a result of the ongoing war.” She paused, letting her words sink in before proceeding. “The reports I’ve received have been troubling. There has been a noticeable decline in academic engagement, with many among the later years struggling to focus due to stress and anxiety. Some of you are underperforming, while others have taken their performances to the extreme.There have been conflicts among students; disagreements that would have been minor have escalated into serious confrontations. The war has divided loyalties, and that division has seeped into the relationships within these walls.”
For some reason, Aodhán felt personally attacked by her last statement, sure that she was referring to the disagreement between him and Cyrus. However, he wasn’t the only one shifting awkwardly. The weeks leading up to the break had been brutal, with fights breaking out left and right.
The principal’s gaze swept across the assembly, and she continued. “Because of the above reasons, we have placed a temporary ban on all information concerning the war.” Aodhán frowned as murmurs of discontent rose among the students, but principal Zatya spoke above them. “This ban will affect every student except the 4th years. Every letter or text sent out or coming into the academy will be monitored, and any news concerning the war will be deleted.”
“That is outrageous!” Andrew exclaimed, his voice barely audible in the din of confusion and exclamations that erupted from the assembly. “How are we supposed to keep up with what is going on?”
“The ban is for your own good.” Principal Zatya continued firmly, speaking over the crowd. “Of course, certain important messages will be passed across to you if deemed necessary, but there is nothing to be gained from having you all tensed and ready to explode at any moment, most especially those in the second and third years; this ban was placed primarily because of you. If you’re so eager to join the war, then you might as well drop out and go now; the military will accept you with open arms!”
The hall quieted after that, although a few people still grumbled and murmured in discontent. Aodhán, on the other hand, wasn’t quite sure how to feel. On one hand, he was disappointed that he wouldn’t be getting any information as to the response of Sunstone in a few weeks or how Ragnarok might respond in the instance that Sunstone fails to surrender before the due date. On the other hand, he was relieved. All he’d ever wanted was to explore this new world and grow stronger, and he’d only begun developing interest in the war when he’d realized he would have no choice but to join it eventually.
From the smile on Daruk’s face, it was obvious that he was utterly in support of the principal’s decision, and a moment later, Aodhán decided to get on board. On the bright side, he wouldn’t have to worry about defending his position so manically on the forge list anymore; perhaps he could start ascending again.
However, many weren’t happy with the principal’s decision, and a third-year student, a boy with red-tinted black hair, stood up to contest it. “With all due respect, principal Zatya, this academy is training us to be better soldiers. It is counterintuitive to shield us from the brutalities of war, regardless of how much it might affect us. If anything, those who react badly to it should be expelled out of the academy as they’re unfit to be soldiers.”
At first, many of the students had been shouting in support, but as soon as he’d mentioned the word expelled, they’d all deserted him. No one wanted to be expelled, especially those from noble families whose prestige and reputation were on the line.
Another flurry of exclamations rang out as the students shouted in opposition, and this time principal Zatya let it play out. The noise rose steadily until it was almost deafening, but whenever Andrew or Daruk moved to join the argument, Aodhán held them back, urging them to remain quiet. He wouldn’t say he knew principal Zatya well, but he knew her well enough to know that she was pissed.
He scanned the crowd, and when his gaze landed on Eldrith, who was glaring cautiously at the principal several rows in front of him, he knew he had done the right thing.
When the noise reached a zenith, principal Zatya suddenly raised a hand and snapped her fingers. Instantly, sound died—ripped out of the throats of every speaking individual. The silence that descended after was so deafening that Aodhán was certain he could hear a feather drop.
Principal Zatya glared at them, and in a tone that brooked no argument, she said. “Minus hundred points to every single person who spoke against my decision today.”
Hundreds of chips flared, even Andrew's, despite Aodhán’s best effort, yet not a single person spoke up in protest. How principal Zatya managed to identify every single person who had spoken up against her decision, Aodhán couldn’t fathom.
In the silence that followed, principal Zatya continued. “Do you think this is a democracy? Do you think that I require the opinion of children to make my decisions? Let me make one thing clear since your uniforms have failed to do so. This is a military academy. I make the decision; you obey.” She turned her gaze to the boy who had spoken earlier and sneered. “Perhaps you should be expelled, Dravynor. Obedience is a core attribute of any soldier, and you’ve failed in that regard.” The boy shrunk into his seat, and principal Zatya continued. “I have made my decision. Information will be passed along as I deem fit. You’re here to learn how to become better soldiers; we might as well start from your manners.”
Aodhán shook his head and sighed. “He had expected some sort of punishment from principal Zatya, but 100 points? That was several weeks worth of forge points lost, and from the look on Andrew’s face, he seemed to be on the verge of either bawling or exploding with anger. He placed a hand on Andrew’s shoulders to comfort him, but his effort was useless.
Andrew wasn’t alone in his pain, though; many were red-faced with silent anger, and others like Imani were outright bawling. Aodhán imagined Imani would be taking her reading to the next level in the coming weeks.
After a moment of tense silence, Principal Zatya sighed and said. “The second order of business today is the academy tournaments, which will be held in the capital in the next three months. Since the 5th academy joined the competition seventy-five years ago, we’ve only won a total of 29 times. I intend for this year to be the thirtieth win, and to facilitate that, I’ve come up with a selection process to pick out the top five students of each year who will be representing the academy at the tournament. That being said, this isn’t a do-or-die affair. You may choose not to participate in the selection process; however, I’ll be awarding the top ten students of each year 200 forge points as well as a Mythic core. Each.”
It was as if lightning struck the room. The students perked up, their eyes going wide as the implications of principal Zatya’s statement overtook their minds. Aodhán gripped the edge of his seat tightly as his mind spun rapidly. The energy within a Mythic core was so dense that absorbing it could push him up more than a dozen tiers without damaging his foundations, although it was just as likely to rip his core to pieces if inappropriately absorbed, but Aodhán wasn’t thinking about that at the moment. Of course, even if he won, he couldn’t absorb the core until after the tournament was over, as doing so would push him into the Advanced class, and he couldn’t let that happen as that would disqualify him from fighting in the first-year bracket, and he was vastly unprepared to fight against second-years.
While his mind spun, his eyes burned brightly with greed. The forge points, however important, barely registered in his mind, and with a manic grin, Aodhán began plotting. He was already among the top ten students in his year; he just needed to make sure things remained that way.
Principal Zatya let out a predatory grin as she took in the reactions of the students, even the fourth-year students, and asked. “Now, who would like to withdraw from the selection process?” she glanced around the hall, and when no one raised their hand, her grin widened. “That’s more like it."