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Ancient

"I am the Master of Initiates here at Noxveil Academy," Vasen began, his voice steady and measured. "I oversee the instructors and ensure they fulfill their duties, particularly in training new students. I'll personally guide you through the initial stages of settling into the academy. Moreover, I will ensure that you receive the best instruction on the usage and refinement of Moon Essence, so you're fully prepared before entering the closed chambers for your awakening."

"My father mentioned that an instructor would guide me," I replied evenly, as though making casual conversation, "but he didn't say the Master of Initiates would be involved."

Vasen nodded, his face unreadable. "We would never entrust the future sovereign to just anyone. At the very least, I needed to be here to ensure everything proceeds without error."

"I thought I came to the academy as a student, not as a prince," I said, testing his response.

"You were born an Aestherisin, the sole heir to the throne. Wherever you go, you carry that legacy—whether revered or hated. That is a destiny you cannot escape," he said, his tone respectful, though laced with cold truth.

"It seems the lessons have already begun," I remarked, my voice calm but touched with a hint of irony.

"I only want to remind you, my prince. There will be many obstacles, and I hope you do not bend under their weight," he said, his words sincere.

"I'll keep that in mind," I replied, my tone firm. "But you needn't worry about me. I was born to rule."

"Indeed," Vasen said with a slight chuckle. "It seems my concerns were for nothing. You've been taught well."

We continued in silence, the path leading us to the mountain's edge, where nothing but a sheer drop awaited us. Vasen raised his hand, holding a silver badge. For a brief moment, the air around us shifted. An ancient, invisible force descended, evaluating the badge. It felt as though the mountain itself was testing us, ready to crush any impostor with its overwhelming presence. My silver blood stirred violently within my veins, responding to the primal energy. Then, just as quickly as it came, the sensation vanished, and everything returned to stillness.

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Before us, the solid rock beneath the mountain slowly turned transparent, revealing a hidden staircase descending into the mountain's core.

"Let us descend," Vasen said as he began down the stairs, and I followed closely at his side. The stairwell, narrow at first, widened as we went deeper, until it was large enough to accommodate ten men walking abreast. The space around us felt ancient, as though the very walls carried the weight of centuries.

At the bottom, we arrived at a towering door. It was stark white, though I could not tell what material it was made from. The door seemed unbreakable, with silver patterns running its length, ancient symbols reinforcing it with immense, impenetrable power. That same invisible force from before stirred once again, stronger this time, as if the door itself was alive and watching us. After a tense moment, the door swung open smoothly, its movement graceful despite the oppressive weight it radiated.

We entered a grand hallway, the floors gleaming with polished white marble. Massive glass chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their light refracted in the crystals, casting ethereal shadows that danced along the walls. The scale of the space was awe-inspiring, each step echoing through the vast corridor as we made our way forward.

"I will take you to meet the head of the academy," Vasen said as we approached a stairway, its steps winding upward, twisting at sharp angles as if leading deeper into the heart of the mountain.

"Is that typical?" I asked, curious.

"Not everyone meets the head face to face," Vasen explained. "Most initiates are screened by me alone. But the headmaster specifically requested to meet you."

"Oh?" I said, my curiosity piqued. "Now you have my interest."

We climbed the twisting stairs, the path narrow at times, as though forcing us to move with care. After several turns and passageways, we arrived before another door, smaller than the entrance gate but still grand in its own right. It was similar in design, with ancient markings of power etched into the surface, humming faintly with magic.