Chapter 10 – First Trials & Unearthed Shadows
The vaulted chamber of Aetherhold Academy smelled of polished stone and pressure. Leonhart stood in the Fifth Circle entrance hall, the soft hum of ether lanterns overhead. Rows of students in dark coats and neat uniforms faced the exam platform. A tall examiner in layered silver-blue robes surveyed them with cool, impassive eyes.
"Welcome to the Fifth Circle Entrance Trials. You will face three assessments: Scholar's Insight, Ether Aptitude, and Martial Precision. Pass all three, and you earn your place. Fail any, and your name ends here."
She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. Then she stepped aside.
"Begin."
I. Scholar's Insight
Leonhart knelt before a rune-inscribed tablet. Strange glyphs shimmered under his focused gaze. He let memory carry him to the cave gate's nine symbols—book, flame, droplet, eye…
"These runes describe containment principles. They translate to 'Unity through restraint.' The glyph refers to a sealing construct."
He tapped his final mark. The tablet glowed softly.
Pass.
II. Ether Aptitude
The chamber dimmed, revealing glowing constellations etched into the floor. Students entered the circle one by one, hands raised to coax ether into light.
Leonhart stepped in. He closed his eyes and breathed. A golden pulse stirred in his chest. He shaped it outward—an orb. But it didn't end there. The light surged upward, igniting surrounding ether lines in gold and violet.
Gasps echoed, heads turned. The examiner leaned forward.
Leonhart folded the energy gently, extinguishing the sphere.
"Exceptional," the examiner murmured.
Pass.
III. Martial Precision
In a wooden arena, three weighted dummies swung silently. Leonhart waited his turn. When the signal came, he moved with precision: one clean cut through the chest, a swift slash at the neck, a final strike splitting the dummy's torso.
The examiner struck the last target herself. It split—but slowly, methodically. She turned to Leonhart with a thin nod.
Pass.
Later, beneath the vaulted dome, the examiner surveyed the remaining candidates.
"Thirty-nine remain. Fifth Circle is set."
Leonhart stood among them. No Clara—she'd passed earlier. But among the winners, he passed the threshold.
The chamber doors creaked open. Sunlight swept in.
Banquet Evening
The Grand Hall glowed in candlelight and enchantment. Students sat by Circle—Fourth Circle at head tables, Fifth beneath them. Leonhart found his seat unceremoniously at the Fifth table's edge.
Behind him, footsteps.
"Of course you made it."
Leonhart turned to find Clara Wensmoor, cool and amused in her white‑silver coat. A glass in her hand, her expression measured curiosity.
"I had faith," she said. "I didn't expect you to show up… in one piece."
He shrugged. "Tried a quieter approach."
She raised her glass. "Well, silent success suits you."
They shared a quiet moment before the chatter resumed—the forging of alliances and rivalries picking up around them.
Later, the Fayre Tower corridors fell silent as Leonhart returned to Room 3B. Inside, he surveyed the two-bed dorm—his untouched berth opposite where Lewis would soon arrive.
A knock. Leonhart opened the door to find a slight boy with round glasses and chestnut hair.
"Gareth Lorne," he introduced himself while pushing a trunk. "Looks like we're roommates."
Leonhart nodded. "Leonhart."
Gareth smiled. "I saw mentor assignments posted. Might as well check."
Leonhart grabbed his coat.
"I'll head to the board," he said.
Gareth flopped onto the untouched bed with a contented sigh.
"Try not to come back famous," he teased.
Leonhart walked toward the eastern staircase. At the board, he shuffled in with other Fifth Circle students. He watched until his name appeared:
Leonhart Elgrave — Instructor Gaius Vaern, Blade Division
A murmur ran behind him. Gaius Vaern — legendary, battle‑hardened, never takes Fifth Circle recruits.
His pace slowed. His pulse rose. This was no coincidence.
Arriving early to the Blade Division hall, Leonhart spotted Clara leaning against the entrance.
"I didn't expect you here," he said.
She shrugged. "I've got business with someone in advanced training."
They spoke briefly: warmth in her tone. "You don't care how it looks, do you?"
He leaned in quiet. "Not much."
They shared a moment before distant clangs from the practice ring shifted their attention.
Through a seldom-open gate, they heard a metallic creak, followed by a low ether hum—distorted, unnatural.
Clara's voice was soft. "Should we see?"
Leonhart nodded. They slipped through into darkness.
At the bottom of the stairs, Leonhart summoned a small orb of ether light. The chill of the corridor sharpened around them.
They reached a wide, stone chamber dominated by an iron gate-cell—towering bars topped with sealing runes. Inside: nothing but empty shadows.
Clara whispered, "Why is this here?"
Leonhart's Palm orb flickered over the bars. He sensed residual, pressurized ether within—like something was trapped beyond.
He took a step forward. The gate creaked—unlocked.
Leonhart stepped inside. Clara followed. In the silence, the ether shifted coldly.
He muttered, "This doesn't feel right. Let's go."
Clara nodded and turned toward the stairs.
They began their exit—but then he froze.
He felt it: a cold ripple, a twitch at the back of his mind.
His Ghost Eyes flared.
Above the gate, hidden in the dark, four glowing eyes regrew—watching.
Leonhart spun, mouth open—
End of Chapter 10