CHAPTER NINE

The duel between Ivan and Lorcan had been postponed, much to the disappointment of the gathered crowd. Headmaster Varleon had intervened at the last moment, his sharp voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "This academy is not a gladiatorial arena," he had said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "If you wish to settle your differences, you will do so through proper channels."

The crowd had dispersed, grumbling but obedient, and Ivan had found himself walking back to his dormitory with Fent by his side. The tension from the confrontation still lingered, but now it was mixed with a sense of anticipation. The duel might have been postponed, but the conflict was far from over.

As they walked, Fent was unusually quiet, his brow furrowed in thought. Ivan glanced at him, sensing the weight of whatever was on his mind. "You alright?" he asked, his voice low.

Fent hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Just… thinking."

"About what?"

Fent didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stopped walking and turned to face Ivan, his expression serious. "You ever wonder why I'm here? I mean, really here. Not just at the academy, but in Aether."

Ivan raised an eyebrow. "You've got citizenship. You earned your place here. What's there to wonder about?"

Fent shook his head, his gaze distant. "It's not that simple. My grandfather… he's the reason I'm here. He's the reason any of us are here. And sometimes I wonder if he knew what he was getting us into."

Ivan studied him for a moment, then gestured toward a nearby bench. "Sit. Tell me."

Fent hesitated, then nodded, sinking onto the bench with a heavy sigh. Ivan sat beside him, his expression calm but attentive. For a long moment, Fent was silent, his gaze fixed on the ground. Then, slowly, he began to speak.

Flashback: The Story of Kenai Erasmus

Kenai Erasmus had been a man of science, a visionary who saw the world not as it was, but as it could be. Born in Millinggarde during a time of relative peace, he had grown up surrounded by the hum of machinery and the glow of innovation. Millinggarde was a nation of iron and ingenuity, its people proud of their ability to thrive without relying on the arcane forces that other nations held so dear.

But Kenai was different. While his peers focused on perfecting their machines, he became fascinated by the intersection of science and magic. He believed that the two were not mutually exclusive—that, in fact, they could be combined to create something greater than the sum of their parts. This belief set him apart, earning him both admiration and scorn.

"Magic is a crutch," his colleagues would say. "It's unreliable, unpredictable. Science is the future."

Kenai would nod, but in his heart, he knew they were wrong. Magic was not a crutch; it was a tool. And like any tool, its value depended on how it was used.

His breakthrough came when he discovered the phildrons—crystals buried deep beneath Millinggarde's soil that pulsed with raw magical energy. At first, he thought they were a curiosity, a natural phenomenon with no practical application. But as he studied them, he began to see their potential. These crystals could be refined, their energy harnessed and controlled. They could power machines, heal wounds, even reshape the very fabric of reality.

But when he presented his findings to the Millinggardan Council, he was met with skepticism and outright hostility.

"You want us to rely on magic?" one council member had scoffed. "After all we've done to free ourselves from its influence? You're a fool, Erasmus."

Kenai had argued his case, but the council was unmoved. Millinggarde had turned its back on magic for a reason, and they were not about to reverse course. Disheartened but undeterred, Kenai continued his research in secret, determined to prove the value of his discoveries.

It was during this time that he first made contact with Aether.

Aether had always been a distant presence, a nation shrouded in mystery and power. Its people were said to wield magic with unparalleled skill, their cities gleaming with enchanted steel and mana-infused light. Kenai had never been there, but he had heard the stories. And when an Aethan envoy arrived in Millinggarde, seeking to establish diplomatic relations, Kenai saw an opportunity.

He approached the envoy, a tall, silver-haired man named Darian Voss, and shared his findings. To his surprise, Voss was intrigued.

"You've discovered phildrons?" Voss had asked, his voice tinged with curiosity. "And you believe they can be refined?"

Kenai nodded eagerly. "Yes. With the right technology, we could harness their energy and use it to power machines, heal the sick, even extend life itself."

Voss had smiled, a slow, calculating smile. "You're a man of vision, Erasmus. Aether could use someone like you."

Kenai hesitated. "What do you mean?"

Voss leaned forward, his gaze intense. "Come to Aether. Bring your research. We'll give you the resources you need to continue your work. Together, we can unlock the true potential of these crystals."

It was an offer Kenai couldn't refuse.

Present Day

Fent's voice trailed off, his gaze distant as he recounted the story. Ivan listened in silence, his expression thoughtful. "So your grandfather went to Aether," he said finally. "And they gave him what he wanted?"

Fent nodded. "At first, yeah. They gave him a lab, funding, everything he needed to continue his research. And for a while, it was good. He made breakthroughs, developed new technologies, even helped Aether refine their magic. But then… things changed."

"How?" Ivan asked.

Fent's jaw tightened. "They started using his work for other things. Weapons. Surveillance. Control. My grandfather thought he was helping to build a better future, but all he was doing was giving Aether more power. And when he realized that, it was too late."

Ivan frowned. "What do you mean?"

Fent sighed, running a hand through his hair. "He tried to stop them. He went to the Aethan Council, told them they were misusing his research, that they were turning his life's work into a tool of oppression. But they didn't care. They told him he was being naive, that power was the only thing that mattered. And when he refused to cooperate, they took everything from him. His lab, his funding, even his citizenship."

Ivan's eyes widened. "They stripped him of his citizenship?"

Fent nodded, his expression grim. "Yeah. They said he was a traitor, that he'd betrayed Aether by trying to undermine their authority. He was lucky they didn't execute him. Instead, they sent him back to Millinggarde, broken and disgraced."

Ivan was silent for a long moment, processing the story. "And that's why you're here," he said finally. "To finish what he started."

Fent looked at him, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and sorrow. "Yeah. But sometimes I wonder if I'm just repeating his mistakes. If I'm just giving Aether more power without realizing it."

Ivan placed a hand on Fent's shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring. "You're not your grandfather, Fent. And you're not alone. Whatever happens, we'll figure it out together."

Fent hesitated, then nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thanks, Ivan. That means a lot."

The two of them sat in silence for a while, the weight of Fent's story hanging in the air. But as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the academy grounds, Ivan felt a renewed sense of purpose. The duel with Lorcan might have been postponed, but the real battle was just beginning. And this time, Ivan was determined to fight not just for himself, but for Fent, for Millinggarde, and for the future they both believed in.