Rain lay in his new bed, the softest he'd ever known, yet his thoughts kept him awake. His gaze drifted to the staff leaned near the door, the Lumin seed glowing faintly on his desk. The uniform hung neatly by the wardrobe, and a velvet pouch filled with Elks rested on his nightstand.
"Who am I now?" he whispered to no one.
"Am I ready for all this?" he wondered.
The ceiling above sparkled with artificial starlight, and slowly, sleep began to take him.
But it was not peaceful.
In the dream...
Rain wandered through a battlefield shrouded in dust. The cries of the wounded echoed like whispers in a cathedral. Splinters of fire and ice littered the air as two mages dueled somewhere far off. Then...a thunderous boom.
Something struck near him.
His ears rang. He staggered, blood matting his hair, vision blurry. All around him, soldiers screamed and scattered. The wind shifted, carrying with it a suffocating stench, sour like rot soaked in brimstone.
He turned his head slowly.
The sky dimmed, not from clouds, but from a shadow, a wing, impossibly vast, sweeping over the battlefield. Then another. Gasps rippled through the ranks like a wave. Every face turned upward.
Above them soared a colossal dragon, blacker than night. Its wings shredded the clouds. Its scales shimmered like obsidian soaked in oil, and its breath hissed as though it whispered through a thousand teeth. A golden halo of decayed light pulsed around its head like a crown of disease.
Rain's knees buckled.
Then it exhaled.
Not fire.
Mist!
A corrosive, luminous fog poured from its jaws, sweeping over the battlefield. Armor melted. Screams turned wet. Flesh blackened and flaked away like dead bark from a tree. Flowers of decay bloomed in open wounds. Rain watched helplessly as comrades dissolved, faces collapsing inward, mouths still open in silent pleas.
He tried to run, but his legs were rooted. The mist crawled toward him, seething. He looked down, his hands were already blistering, bone shining through.
Just before the mist touched his eyes....
He awoke.
Breathless! Covered in sweat. The moonlight from the dormitory window painted the floor like spilled milk. For a moment, he couldn't move. His throat was tight, his skin felt bruised.
His Uud trembled, still reacting to something ancient and vile.
And in his chest, an instinct deeper than thought murmured:
"I'm still dreaming of that dragon."
Rain sat up, shivering.
"What… was that? that's not how i remember what happened"
He looked at his hands. No Authority had awakened. Not yet.
But something had moved.
Orientation Hall
The bells of Alfheim tolled thrice, resonating through marble towers and crystalline bridges, echoing down into the hearts of the students. It was time.
Rain walked with the other Royal Class first-years through the grand corridors until they reached the Orientation Hall, a spiraling amphitheater of stone that seemed carved from the high mount of Olympus. Thousands of students filled the seats, arranged by year and class, from general studies to the Royal Class elite.
The upper rings towered above, where sixth-years sat like warlords observing future heirs.
Enormous banners floated in the air, displaying emblems of the four clans: Oakwood, with its sigil of the burning tree. Wickertomb, with an eye woven in thorned threads. Starbound, bearing a shattered star glimmering gold. Starsteel, with a roaring sword surrounded by wings of flame.
Rain's group moved to their designated section. Murmurs followed them. Whispers about the peasant from Midgard, the princess, and the White Authority prodigy.
All eyes were on them.
From the center of the amphitheater, Grandmaster Einricht appeared in a swirl of wind and golden light. His robes billowed unnaturally, embroidered with shifting constellations.
"Welcome… to Alfheim Academy."
His voice echoed even without sound amplification.
"This is a sanctuary of dreams and discipline. A crucible for greatness… or destruction. Some of you will ascend to legend. Others will be forgotten. That choice is yours."
The audience was silent, held in rapture.
"Here, you will not be judged by birthright alone. But by mastery! Ambition! Sacrifice."
Einricht raised a hand, and holograms of student ranks, clan scores, and top duelists from the past year appeared in the air.
Overall student rankings (At each year)
Roan Valeheart (Clan leader)- Sixth Year, Wickertomb clan 13'574pt
Krava Fenrild (Clan leader)- Fifth Year, Starsteel clan 8975pt
Varek Zenrir - Fourth Year, Starbound clan 8546pt
Saltier Yugrave - Third year, Starsteel clan 4756pt
Maximus Aurelian (Vice clan leader) - Second year, Oakwood clan 723pt
Clan Ranks
1. Starsteel clan, 597'075pt
2. Starbound clan, 579'576pt
3. Wickertomb clan, 497'654pt
4. Oakwood clan, 276'908pt
Rain watched, transfixed. These weren't students. They were legends in the making.
"At Alfheim Academy, each year the balance shifts. The weak can rise. The strong can fall. Make your choice now… what mark will you leave?"
Later, after the ceremony…
Clan representatives appeared across the hall, adorned in their respective colors, ready to recruit from the newest batch.
Rain received more stares as several senior students approached him directly.
One in deep green robes from Oakwood, fire flickering in his palm.
One in black silk, eyes glowing faintly, a Wickertomb clairvoyant.
A tall girl in white-gold armor from Starbound merely stared at him and nodded.
And then a scarred, laughing warrior from Starsteel slapped Rain on the back and said:
"You've got sword skills like a general, off cause you'll be joining us" the senior sang loudly.
Rain was silent.
He wasn't ready. But he was here.
Einricht proceeded to place an orb at the front of the amphitheater, and announced;
"We shall now assign the royal class to their prospective clans, be reminded that the orb will only place you in a clan where your gifts can bloom to their best. We begin with the royal class"
All the students took turns to get a clan placement and this was the result:
Oakwood Clan - Specializing in advanced elemental manipulation through Uud.
• Princess Eleanor de Croft – Uud: Violet; Authority: Gold
• Laven Kant – Uud: Violet; Authority: Gold
• Pam Sephorus – Uud: Yellow; Authority: Gold
These candidates, with strong elemental affinities and moderate, refined Authority, are best suited to hone their raw magical (Uud) power into a disciplined, nature-based strength.
Starbound Clan – Specializing in Authority construction and subtle manifestation of leadership.
• Grey Ceaser – Uud: White (infinite); Authority: White (the highest)
• Dregr Endramalch – Uud: Indigo; Authority: Gold
• Tev Einsdorm- Earth Leviathan
Their exceptionally refined Authority makes them natural architects of magical will, ideal for Starbound's focus on molding raw power into lasting societal influence. (An unknown candidate might also join this clan to round out the numbers.)
Starsteel Clan – Specializing in the combat-based application of Authority and Uud.
• Prince Basil King – Uud: White; Authority: Black (lowest)
• Bartolomeu Gagranov – Uud: Red (lowest); Authority: White
• Luke Boltin – Uud: Green; Authority: Black
• Rain of Midgard – Uud: Violet (exceptional), but with no measurable Authority
These students display a raw, combative edge, with low or undeveloped Authority but significant Uud potential. They are set on a path that demands that they learn to forge their missing Authority through battle and discipline. Rain's assignment here underscores both his prodigious power and the challenge he must overcome.
Wickertomb Clan – Specializing in the supernatural, esoteric, and mystical applications of Uud.
• Vanilion Kant – Uud: Blue; Authority: Black
• Esmer Lufont – Uud: Indigo; Authority: Black
• Julia Solz – Uud: Orange; Authority: Gold
These candidates, with lower Authority and innate mystical (often volatile) Uud capacities, are steered into the Wickertomb Clan, where their supernatural talents will be refined and their unconventional power unlocked.
As the orientation concluded and students began murmuring excitedly about their new clan assignments, the Grandmaster raised a single hand.....and silence swept across the amphitheater once more.
"There remains one last matter," Einricht said, his voice slow and weighted. "Every year, the Royal Class reserves a thirteenth seat... a tradition rooted in hope."
Students glanced at one another, puzzled.
"Six years ago," Einricht continued, "a student passed the Alfheim Entrance Exam with a perfect score. Not in combat, nor Authority, nor Uud alone, but in all of them. A trifecta that has not been achieved before or since."
Whispers stirred like leaves in wind. Even the upperclassmen looked uncertain.
"Yet, that student never arrived. The academy kept his name in our records. We left a seat open... and today..."
The very earth beneath the amphitheater trembled.
The sky darkened....not with clouds, but as though the sun itself had stepped back in deference. A faint hum, like the breathing of something ancient, echoed through the ground. From the edge of the orientation grounds, where no one had stood moments ago, now walked a figure.
A tall young man with hair the color of deep soil and eyes like glowing magma.
Barefoot. Cloaked in moss-green robes adorned with stone-carved talismans. With each step, the marble of the stadium floor cracked slightly beneath his feet, not from force, but from recognition, the earth remembered him.
"Tev Einsdorm," Einricht said, a glint of reverence in his eyes. "Heir of the ancient earth… Leviathan reborn. Our final Royal Class student."
Gasps filled the air.
"W-wait… he's our age?" Rain asked aloud, eyes narrowing as the boy came closer. "Why does he feel like... the world itself?"
Even Eleanor's smirk faded for a brief second.
Tev said nothing. He merely stepped forward, gaze sweeping over the Royal Class....his classmates, until it settled for the briefest moment on Rain.
And Rain felt it. Like stone against stone. Not aggression. Not even threat.
Just weight.
Ancient! Immovable!
The kind of weight the sky and sea and land obeyed.
After the Orientation - The Great Hall of Alfheim Academy
The enormous crystal dome of the Great Hall shimmered in the sunlight as students from every year and class filtered in, gathering for the post-orientation banquet. But there was only one topic of conversation, one presence that eclipsed all else.
Tev Einsdorm!
"He's real...", "I thought he was a myth!", "How can the academy let someone just walk in after six years and take a seat in the Royal Class?", "Why didn't he have to take the entrance exam again like everyone else?"
Some voices were laced with awe. Others, with doubt and envy.
But none could deny the weight in the room.
The Leviathan had returned.
Tev sat between Rain of Midgard and Ceaser Grey, the three freshman students in the Alfheim Academy, and already, the most terrifying. Together, the air around them hummed with an invisible force.
The trio said nothing. They didn't need to.
Across the hall, older students stared with narrowed eyes.
"Did you feel that?" a fifth-year whispered. "They're sixteen... all three of them. And yet that presence, they make even the seniors feel like first-years.", "Grey was already scary... Rain's the one who shattered the exam records... but Tev.....Tev isn't even trying."
Even among the teachers, the conversation was hushed and uncertain.
Professor Sarbas Tenilion, the Royal Class homeroom teacher, sat beside Grandmaster Einricht. "I'll admit, I didn't believe it until I saw him. You really kept his name on the registry every year?"
"I told you," Einricht said with a quiet grin. "We do not choose the threshold of greatness. We only make space for it."
"But this year..." Sarbas looked over the class. "Tev! Grey! Rain! Eleanor! Basil... this year's Royal Class could surpass any generation before them."
Einricht nodded, folding his arms. "And perhaps that is exactly what the world needs."
As the food began to arrive and silverware clinked nervously, a final thought spread like wildfire through the student body:
"If this is how strong they are now... what will they become by graduation?"
The feast below sparkled with crystal goblets and clinking silverware, laughter and music echoing through the stone-and-light halls of Alfheim Academy. But from the high balcony, where only staff were permitted, a different tone lingered in the air.
Grandmaster Einricht stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze fixed on the three seats at the center of the Royal Class table, Tev Einsdorm, Ceaser Grey, and Rain of Midgard.
"What do you see when you look at them?" he asked softly.
Professor Sarbas joined him, still in awe from earlier. "I see... potential. Power! The kind of students that become myths."
Einricht's expression darkened. "Then look again."
Sarbas squinted, then shook his head. "What am I missing?"
"The emergence of such great light is always balanced by the shadow that follows," Einricht murmured. "These children… are not just gifted. They are chosen! And if they have appeared now, it means something has begun to stir. Something old and terrible."
Sarbas's eyes widened. "Muspelheim...?"
The Grandmaster shook his head. "No! If this was Muspel, they would have emerged years ago, during the war. But this…" he paused, voice lowering, "This feels older. Deeper! I fear our time in the light is drawing to an end, and with it comes the dawn of something we have not seen in an age."
Sarbas swallowed, then looked down again, this time not with pride, but a creeping sense of dread. "Then what awaits them...?"
Einricht's eyes gleamed. "Their test. And possibly, our salvation."
Royal Class Banquet Table
Meanwhile, at the center table, the mood couldn't be more different.
Rain hunched awkwardly over his plate, trying to slice a roasted goose leg with far too much enthusiasm and far too little finesse. Grease smeared his cheek as he bit into the leg like a starving beast.
Across from him, Ceaser Grey choked on his wine and burst into laughter. "Rain....you're not at a pirate tavern anymore!"
Rain blinked. "What? It's food! It's good. Wait! how do you know about that?"
Tev, who hadn't stopped smiling since the feast began, let out a hearty laugh. "I like him already."
"Of course you do," Grey said, still laughing. "He eats like a dragon."
"Do dragons have table manners?" Rain grinned.
"Depends on the dragon," Tev replied with a wink.
Their plates clattered as the three began trading jokes, then paused, almost in unison, as a strange question came up.
"Wait," Grey said suddenly. "How old are you two, exactly?"
"Sixteen," Rain replied with a shrug. "You?"
"Sixteen."
Tev raised an eyebrow. "Same."
Rain squinted. "I'm pretty sure I'm the youngest though."
Grey smirked. "Not likely. I was born in the early spring."
"Spring....Mid-spring." Rain spoke with a mouth full
"Early spring," Tev indicated.
"What counts as mid?" Grey challenged. "Because the moon calendar....."
"Oh brother," Rain rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you're gonna make this a math lesson.....i might puke a bit"
Grey looked on with offense preparing to throw a roasted potato then...
Before their banter could escalate into a full-blown food fight, Prince Basil seated nearby and sipping calmly on a cup of violet wine and turned to them.
"If it settles anything," he said, eyes half-lidded, "the academy records show Tev as the eldest. Then Grey. Then Rain." He paused, then added with a small smile, "Though I'm technically older than all three of you."
The three paused. "What?"
"By a few days," Basil clarified. "We were all born within a thirteen-day span. Strange, isn't it?"
Tev's gaze flickered, thoughtful. "Four prodigies born under the same moon cycle…"
"Must be fate," Grey said with a smile.
"Or a warning," Basil muttered under his breath but said no more.
Rain, licking grease from his fingers, looked from one to the other.
"Alright then," he said. "I'll just become the strongest and settle this debate my way."
Grey laughed again. "Now that's the spirit, you and your Authority of geese"