Chapter 11: False sanctuary

Alaric regarded the old man, whose gaze lingered on him like a predator sizing up it's prey. The mention of the attack elicited no visible response from Alaric, though his mind briefly returned to the violent skirmish. 

The old man noted the silence and cleared his throat, leaning back with a practiced air of concern. "Troubling, isn't it? That something like that could happen so close to the academy's borders. But rest assured, we're taking the matter seriously. No threat goes unchecked."

'Of course you are,' Alaric thought. 'After the blood's already dried up.'

He gave a perfunctory nod, letting the man continue.

"As for your admission," the man said, shifting to a more clipped tone, "your documents are... impeccable. As expected from a Kingsley."

He eyed Alaric for a second for some sign of approval but of course, he was bound for disappointment. 

The man's lips tightened. He shifted, just slightly, in his seat. "Still, I'll remind you—status alone means little here. Merit is everything at Eldrynn. Many come with names like yours, only to crumble under the weight of their own expectations."

Alaric met his gaze, unreadable. "Of course."

The old man exhaled softly, as if disappointed the lecture had landed on stone. "Now then. Even with your writ, the examination procedures are mandatory. All students attend the Selection Ceremony."

He paused for emphasis before continuing. "It is necessary to gauge your level of efficiency and natural talents, which will help us in instructing you later on. Do you understand?"

"I understand," he said once again. 

"Good." The old man handed Alaric a token and a sealed letter. 

"The ceremony will be held in two days' time. Do not be late, and make sure you are fully prepared for what's to come. This letter contains the time and venue. The token is a temporary clearance, allowing you free movement within the academy grounds. Once you've completed the ceremony, you'll be issued a permanent student token."

"Alright," Alaric said. "Do I get to know what I'm being judged on?"

"Well if we go about telling everyone that, it wouldn't really be a test anymore now will it?" He shook his head. "You'll find out soon enough. The tests are... layered. Designed to strip away pretense."

With that, the man seemed to lose all patience. "And if that's all, you may proceed to the dormitories. Everything has been prepared for you there."

Alaric gave him a polite word of thanks before taking the items and turning to leave.

"One more thing," the old man called after him.

"I trust the treatment at the healing center took care of any injuries or ailments?"

Alaric replied quietly, "Yes, I believe I'm fully recovered."

"And the curse?" the man asked uncertainly.

Alaric shrugged, finally looking back with a faint smirk that didn't reach his eyes. "I feel normal, if that counts."

The man nodded slowly, as if weighing the answer. Then leaned back in his chair, visibly done.

"Very well, then. Best of luck in the upcoming ceremony, Mr. Kingsley. Do not squander the opportunity."

Alaric acknowledged the words with a curt nod, turned on his heel, and walked out of the luxurious office.

'Merit… precious opportunity… sure.'

A dry huff escaped his nose.

'Doesn't matter what I score. I'm already in. Paperwork signed, name stamped. The real game isn't passing their little tests, it's growing fast enough to walk out of this place when I choose to. Baby steps, Alaric. One foot at a time. 

The admissions building already bored him. The essentials were sorted—ceremony date, token, dorms. He'd memorized it all in seconds. No reason to hang around.

Still, there was one thing that tugged at the edge of his mind.

The cursed Pendant. 

He knew exactly what the old man was worried about. A remnant of the attack that had nearly cost him his life, and something he had chosen to keep on his despite all that, it sounded downright crazy for anyone to keep something so dangerous on them. 

But whatever horror that was left in it had already been expelled thanks to the doctors, what remained of that pendant was merely a washed down version of its passive ability, as for any lingering effects, it wouldn't do him any harm even if there were at all… probably. 

Alaric adjusted the grip on his token and letter. Eyes ahead. The dorms weren't far.

********

Eldrynn Academy slowly unfolded before him—stone spires, arched bridges, glowing crystal lamps mounted to walls that looked older than most nations. The place was built to impress, and it did, in a way. Students moved in clusters, some laughing, while some just existed loudly. He passed through them like smoke, and barely got noticed.

Eventually, he reached the dorms, where three large buildings loomed ahead, one for each year.

A boy stood at the second-year dormitory's entrance. No older than fourteen, dressed in academy livery, and clearly trying to look braver than he felt.

He bowed on sight. "Master Kingsley. The staff has been informed of your arrival. My name is Lark, and I'll be your guide for now."

Alaric studied the boy for a moment. 'What do you know, we even have servants on standby.'

"Good," he said, letting the word carry just enough weight to make the boy straighten up.

Lark flinched slightly, though that still didn't stop him from leading Alaric to the dormitory. 

Alaric gave a nod of acknowledgment and stepped through the gates, his gaze sweeping over the familiar stone walls and manicured gardens. It was a far cry from the war-torn pavilions and bloodied battlefields of days past, but somehow, the quiet grandeur of it all felt hollow. This wasn't home, just another temporary stop.

The interior was grand, with high ceilings and wide corridors lined with ornate pillars. A large chandelier hung in the center of the main hall, casting a soft, golden light over the students lounging on couches or talking at tables. The atmosphere was lively but controlled, the kind of place where order and hierarchy were subtly enforced.

"The first-year dormitory is not yet available until after the Selection Ceremony, so we've arranged for you to stay here in the second-year dormitory for the time being," Lark explained as they ascended a staircase. "I hope that is acceptable." 

Alaric gave a noncommittal nod. "It's fine."

They reached a secluded part of the building, where Lark gestured to a door at the end of the hallway. "This will be your room, Master Kingsley. If you require anything, please do not hesitate to inform us."

"Thank you," Alaric replied, a bit more pleased. 

Entering the room, Alaric noted its tasteful decor—plush furnishings, large windows overlooking the academy grounds, and an air of refined elegance. It was comfortable, certainly, but comfort had never been his priority. He set the token and letter on the writing desk near the window, sinking into the chair as his gaze shifted outside.

A part of him loosened, just a little. Enough to let the silence in.

But he knew better than to treat it like peace.

The academy, the room, the title, they were just pieces on the board. Nothing he could afford to get attached to. Not when every step forward had to be calculated. He didn't have the luxury of being a student. Not really.

He needed to chart his next moves before the world caught up again.

His eyes drifted to the window, watching the light slant across the lawns. Somewhere out there, the future was already pulling at the seams of this quiet place.

There was no turning back. No other option.

As the soft light of the afternoon filtered through the windows, Alaric closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting the weight of the day settle. His path was clear, and there was no room for hesitation.

"What a wonderful day to start something new, eh?" he murmured softly, with a light smile.