The Weight of Names

Chapter 17: The Weight of Names

The academy week had been anything but quiet for S-Class students. Training, lessons, sparring, and lectures filled every hour. Yet today, the air shifted. Everyone could feel it. The two unknown S-Rank students—the ones who held the top two positions—had finally arrived.

Their presence was impossible to ignore.

But before they set foot on the training fields of Astralis Academy, their morning began in the soaring sky-palace of Sol'Karith and the abyssal sanctum of Nyss'Ora.

---

Sol'Karith – Throne of Winds

A golden balcony overlooked a kingdom made of light and storm. High above the cloudscape, a young man with platinum eyes and wind-swept silver hair stood quietly beside his mother, Empress Nelyra Cael'Syn of Sol'Karith.

"Caelus," she said with a voice like bells forged from thunder, "remember what you represent. We are not sending you to play games."

"I'm not," Caelus replied, his tone perfectly even. "I'm going to win them."

"Good." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "The Pact may have kept the ancient bloodlines from tearing each other apart, but that doesn't mean the world has grown peaceful. Show them the worth of our lineage—but do not shame it with cruelty. You are the heir of storms. Command respect, not fear."

"I'll remember," he said, his eyes narrowing. "I'll see if this Starseer deserves to stand in the same rank."

---

Nyss'Ora – The Submerged Eternity

In an obsidian throne room beneath a sea that glowed with bioluminescent stars, a violet-skinned figure with gill-lined cheeks and sapphire eyes adjusted the dark gloves on her hands. Vysha was preparing.

Her father, Lord Trelvek of the Abyssal Communion, watched her with cold approval.

"The Academy's headmaster believes this 'Earth' influx will change the balance," he said, voice echoing like tides through a cave. "Prove him wrong."

Vysha turned, her expression unreadable. "If he survives, he might prove interesting. But they're still too soft."

"Not all of them," Trelvek said, "or they would not have placed you and Caelus first and second. You will fight the Flame Cook today, yes?"

Vysha let out a small breath. "The one with fire, flavor, and fear. I've read his file. Should be fun."

"Don't toy with him unless you mean to break him," her father warned. "You know how the Creators of the Pact disdain pointless violence. Gods may no longer intervene directly, but they watch. And so do we."

"I know," she said. "I won't need to kill him to prove the point."

---

The Pact of Harmon's Veil

Over a thousand years ago, when the divine wars threatened to reduce the realms to ash, a figure known only as Harmon the Gray intervened. Not a god, not a mortal, but something in between—he forged the Pact of Veiled Harmony, a binding metaphysical treaty signed by the leaders of the high races and the gods themselves.

It forbade the gods from direct influence over the mortal world, and in return, bound the highest bloodlines to uphold balance through trial and contest, not war.

And now, that very legacy was being tested once more—through battle, reputation, and ancient pride.

---

Astralis Academy – Southern Arena

The courtyard rumbled beneath the feet of gathered students. S-Rank and A-Rank alike had come to witness the arrival of the academy's two top placements.

Principal Raevius Altharn stood in full regalia beside Combat Instructor Marisa and Head Mage Lurevia. His gaze sharpened the moment the twin carriages descended—one borne by storm falcons, the other pulled by eel-serpents of the deep.

"Finally," Raevius murmured. "Let's see if all the rumors are true."

From the first carriage stepped Caelus of Sol'Karith, draped in tempest silk, eyes like pressure before a hurricane. Beside him walked three attendants in polished storm-plate, each radiating mana suppression fields just by existing.

From the second emerged Vysha of Nyss'Ora, her gown woven from starlit kelp, her walk fluid like a ripple across dark water. She was accompanied by silent maids whose eyes mirrored the abyss.

The students went silent.

"Those two…" Sana whispered, stepping closer to Meloy. "They don't feel like students. They feel like walking catastrophes."

Marisa grinned. "They're just people. Punchable people, sure. But people."

As the two top-ranked students stepped onto the field, Raevius turned to the assembled class.

"They're here."

"The missing top two S-Ranks. Finally."

"They brought what with them?"

"Maids. And guards. Actual bodyguards."

The classroom doors opened just before the bell, and in stepped the two most enigmatic members of S-Class, their records still marked as classified even after the survival test. Now revealed, their presence made the air itself feel heavier.

The first was tall, lithe, and unnaturally graceful. He walked as if gliding, silver-white hair cascading behind him like silk, eyes shimmering like starlight on water. His very presence bent attention. Every student turned and stared, unable to look away. His skin held a faint iridescence, like pearl. Even Tessaline paused mid-sentence, frowning slightly as she felt the pressure ripple from him.

Behind him trailed two silent maids in long black and violet gowns. Neither looked human. One had feathers for hair. The other, transparent eyes.

"Introducing Lord Caelus Virellen of the Aetherborne Line," one of them said simply, bowing with flawless precision.

Aetherborne. An ancient race known for their dominion over dimensional space and astral flow. A race that had once ruled a sky-faring empire in the Age Before Collapse.

Robert's fingers twitched.

The second student followed a moment later, the ground vibrating with each footstep. She was not as graceful as Caelus, but no less striking. Her frame was broader, more muscular, like a living weapon bound in gold-threaded robes. Her eyes blazed with molten gold, and two small horns peeked out from beneath her braided hair. A long crimson cloak fluttered behind her, stitched with the crest of a long-dead empire.

"Lady Vysha of the Vulkari Dreadflame Line," her servant announced with thunder in his voice.

The Vulkari. A race that had once bathed continents in fire. A race said to be extinct after the Skyburn Wars.

Steven let out a slow, quiet, curse.

Combat class that day was led by Instructor Marisa, who didn't flinch even in the face of divine lineage. The sand-floored sparring arena echoed with voices, but hers cut through.

"Alright, S-Class. Today's test is simple: paired duels. Ranked duels. And we're putting the top four of you to the test. That means you, Robert. And you, Steven."

Steven groaned. "I'd rather be cooking."

Robert, by contrast, smiled. "I've waited for this."

"Dr. Starfield," Marisa said with an amused smirk, "you'll spar against Lord Caelus. Steven, you're up against Lady Vysha."

Tessaline leaned over. "You two are either very lucky or very doomed."

---

Match One: Robert vs Caelus

Robert stepped into the arena, pulling at the Celestial Threads on his gloves and letting his starsteel blade unfold with a smooth flick. His eyes were calm, focused. Neros stirred.

Caelus stood opposite him, no weapon in hand, no motion to summon one. He simply looked at Robert with a soft tilt of his head. "Let us begin."

The match started.

Robert moved first—threads weaving through the air in arcs of illusion and gravity distortion. He created afterimages, pressure shifts, and space folds. Caelus stepped through each one like mist.

"Your magic is elegant," Caelus said quietly, dodging a starburst strike. "But unrefined."

Robert grit his teeth and activated his third observed phase—Neros flaring like a moonlit beacon. The pressure in the arena changed. Even Tessaline blinked at the sudden change.

Caelus, for the first time, stopped moving. The air around him trembled.

Then he raised one hand.

With a pulse of light and compression, Robert was thrown across the arena into a pillar of force. He gasped but landed on his feet, sliding back with gravity-assist.

Caelus raised a brow. "You resisted?"

Robert chuckled. "Of course. I'm stubborn like that."

Their second exchange was a blur of astral threads and aetheric slices. For the first time, Robert fought someone who truly danced within the stars. They clashed again and again, Robert's blade grazing Caelus's sleeve. Caelus finally smiled.

"Interesting."

With one final pulse of spatial inversion, Robert was knocked back and pinned by a ripple in folded space.

"Yield," Caelus said.

"I yield," Robert panted.

Caelus nodded respectfully. "You'll be dangerous. Soon."

---

Match Two: Steven vs Vysha

Steven walked into the arena like a man walking to his funeral. He cracked his neck and sighed. "Alright. Lady Firedoom. Let's go."

Vysha snorted. "Fight me properly, cook."

Steven's cleaver appeared in one hand. In the other, he drew his carving knife. Flames flared around him.

She didn't wait. Vysha came at him like a meteor, her fists burning with radiant heat.

Steven barely parried her first punch. The ground cracked.

Her second hit slammed into his cleaver, sending him sliding backward.

"Are you even trying?" Vysha demanded.

"Trying not to die," Steven muttered.

He unleashed Sear Slash and Flameburst, igniting the air with scent and heat. She charged through the fire and decked him straight into the arena wall.

But he stood back up.

"Again," Vysha said.

Steven grinned, lip bleeding. "You're nuts. But okay."

Their battle raged for five more minutes. Vysha finally won, catching Steven in a fire-wrapped grapple and throwing him over her shoulder.

"You fought well," she admitted.

"I need a drink," Steven wheezed.

---

Aftermath

Instructor Marisa clapped once. "Excellent. You lost, but you learned. Both of you showed better control under pressure. The rest of you—watch and take notes. That's what experience looks like."

Robert and Steven limped off the field, barely able to walk straight.

Tessaline offered a healing vial. "Impressive. Or suicidal. I can't decide."

Kaelin laughed. "I vote both."

Later that night, the S-Ranks gathered again at the bar downtown, a ritual after major training days. Caelus and Vysha were absent, of course, but the rest raised glasses high.

"To survival," Ivan toasted.

"To not being vaporized," Steven added.

Robert raised his cup with a tired smile. "And to the day we beat them both."

Somewhere far above the city, the gods watched.

"Virell," Ysera said with a knowing tone. "He's still smiling."

Nael chuckled. "They haven't seen anything yet."

Elryn folded her arms. "The game is just beginning."