Not Meant To Kneel

There's a moment between silence and sound that feels like truth.

Not peace. Not clarity. Just the bare, brutal edge of something real.

I stood on the balcony after my lessons, watching the clouds gather like soldiers before a war. The sky in this world was always dramatic. No soft transitions. No in-betweens. When it rained, it stormed. When the sun rose, it scorched.

And when people bled, they died.

I was starting to understand the kind of world I'd landed in.

It didn't care about morality. Or second chances.

Only power.

The pendant burned faintly against my skin. Not with heat. With pressure. Like it was reacting to something far away.

Or someone.

I was still turning that thought over when Lysette found me.

"There's someone at the gate," she said. "From the Academy."

"Already?"

She nodded. "And they brought a carriage with the royal crest."

I blinked. "That's subtle."

"Subtlety is for people who don't already own the continent."

Fair.

—

We met them in the front hall. The room was designed to impress — black marble floors, crimson banners stitched with silver ivy, two dragonbone statues flanking the grand staircase.

They still looked nervous.

Two men, one woman. All three dressed in the midnight-blue robes of the Obsidian Academy. Magic circles shimmered faintly at their collars, denoting rank. High ones. The woman wore a circlet, which meant she was a Keeper. Someone with real authority.

Behind them, standing like a blade unsheathed, was a boy.

He was tall for his age. Probably fourteen or fifteen. Pale hair tied in a loose ribbon, eyes cold and gray like frostbite. His uniform was custom-tailored and pinned with a badge I remembered from the game.

Top-ranked duelist of his year.

Caidros Valen.

He was a problem.

The kind you didn't solve.

The kind you survived.

Ravianne sat in her throne-like chair, legs crossed, glass of wine in hand. She didn't rise to greet them.

She never did.

The Keeper bowed. "Lady Everdusk, we apologize for the intrusion. The Headmaster sent us after receiving… certain readings. Powerful ones. Very irregular."

"Speak plainly," Ravianne said, sipping her wine.

"We detected a resonance event. A sealed bloodline activating."

She didn't deny it. Just gestured toward me.

The Keeper turned. So did the boy.

I met their eyes without flinching.

The pendant pulsed once.

And I knew they felt it.

The Keeper straightened. "We'd like to test the young master for potential enrollment."

"Test," I repeated, voice flat.

"Of course. Standard procedure. The Obsidian Academy must evaluate all high-threat awakenings."

"You say that like I asked to wake up."

Caidros smirked at that.

The Keeper caught it and gave him a sharp look, then returned her attention to me. "The Academy is not optional, young master. Not at your level."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then we inform the Crown. They will send a royal inquisitor."

Ah.

So this wasn't a request.

It was a leash.

Wrapped in velvet.

I felt Ravianne's gaze on me. She wasn't going to stop this. She wanted to see how I handled it.

I stepped forward.

"Fine. Let's get it over with."

—

The carriage was bigger on the inside. Typical high-mage enchantments. The walls shimmered with embedded glyphs, absorbing outside sound. I sat across from Caidros, who still hadn't spoken a word.

The Keeper sat between us, hands folded, eyes closed.

"You're quiet," I said.

He opened his eyes. "You're loud."

I grinned. "You'll get used to it."

"No," he said. "I won't."

And that was the end of that.

—

We didn't go far.

Just outside the estate walls was a stone circle — an ancient dueling ring once used for blood trials. It hadn't been touched in years.

Today, it lit up.

The runes along the edge flared gold as I stepped into the center. The Keeper raised her hand, murmured an incantation. A dome of magic shimmered into being, locking us inside the circle.

Caidros stepped in opposite me.

"Wait," I said, glancing at the Keeper. "Why him?"

"He's your examiner."

I frowned. "I thought this was a test, not an execution."

She didn't smile. "If you can't survive this, you're not ready."

Lovely.

The dome sealed with a quiet chime.

Caidros unsheathed his rapier.

I didn't have a weapon.

He noticed. "Do you intend to kneel or die standing?"

"I intend," I said, rolling my neck, "to remind you who you're talking to."

He moved like lightning.

Not metaphorical lightning.

Real, enchanted, air-cracking speed.

But I wasn't slow.

Not anymore.

Something inside me answered.

I didn't summon it.

It summoned me.

My hand raised. Light gathered.

Not white. Not gold.

Black.

But laced with veins of gold like cracks in a shattered mirror.

The air shuddered.

Caidros's strike met my palm.

Magic collided.

Boom.

The dome shook.

The observers stumbled back.

Caidros landed a few feet away, eyes wide.

"What was that?" he asked.

I looked at my hand.

The glow was fading, but the heat remained.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But it listened."

He stood slowly, adjusting his stance.

"Again."

We fought for five minutes.

Neither of us won.

Neither of us lost.

But when the dome dropped, everyone was staring at me like I wasn't human.

Maybe they were right.

—

The Keeper pulled me aside.

Her voice was quieter now.

"What you used was not elemental. Not pure."

"I'm aware."

"Do you feel unstable?"

I shrugged. "Depends on the day."

She sighed. "We need to study this. It may be older magic. Possibly celestial."

She didn't say the word.

Fallen.

I didn't need her to.

Ravianne was waiting for me back inside.

She smiled as I entered.

"You impressed them."

"I scared them."

"Same thing."

I paused.

"Was this your plan?"

"No," she said. "But it helps mine."

"Which is?"

"To build a weapon they can't predict."

Her gaze sharpened.

"Something they can't tame. Something they'll be too afraid to kill, because they won't understand how."

"And what if I refuse to be your weapon?"

She stood.

Walked toward me.

Cupped my cheek.

"Then be my chaos instead."

—

That night, the dreams returned.

But this time, I saw faces.

Wings, broken.

Eyes, weeping fire.

A figure standing in a cathedral of stars, reaching toward me.

And behind him, a gate.

Massive.

Shut tight.

Covered in chains.

Something inside it beat like a heart.

Waiting.

I woke up with blood on my palms.

Not mine.

But not anyone else's either.

It evaporated before I could wipe it off.

The pendant pulsed once.

And then went still.

—

This world was beginning to notice me.

And I was beginning to notice something else.

I wasn't here to play a role.

I wasn't here to become a hero again.

I was here to unmake the story.

Because if the world wouldn't give me a place, I would take one.

Not at their feet.

Not in their chains.

But at the table they'd die trying to keep me from.

And I would smile when they begged me to stop.

Because I wasn't meant to kneel.

Not in this life.

Not ever again.