Arthur was one of the last students to arrive at the gathering point before the Eldermoor Great Forest. Stretching south of the city, the vast expanse of woodland reached all the way to the next city.
The sun had only just crested the horizon, its early light streaking through the dense canopy in hazy beams. A natural clearing at the forest's edge served as the staging ground, already bustling with students.
Arthur wore the Everglen Academy uniform: a crisp white suit with light green patterns accenting the arms and chest. It was designed for formality but allowed for ease of movement, a crucial factor for the days ahead.
Around him, a kaleidoscope of colors represented the four participating academies. Blackstone students were clad in stark, pitch-black attire. Highcrest favored bold scarlet, while Valemarch students wore brown and gold. The distinct groups were slowly separating into their respective school factions.
At the far end of the clearing, a makeshift stage had been erected. Arthur spotted Madam Thorne near its edge, meticulously counting the arriving students. Seated at the center of the stage were five figures, engaged in quiet conversation. Undoubtedly, these were the headmasters of the four academies, plus one other.
Arthur's gaze lingered on the unfamiliar old man in the middle. He had a long, flowing grey beard and wore a dark green cloak, embroidered with an intricate design Arthur couldn't quite make out from this distance.
"I wonder who that is," Arthur mused, shuffling into the lines forming for Everglen. "Not many in the city command the respect of all four headmasters."
As if on cue, the old man in the center rose and stepped forward. Instantly, the low hum of hundreds of conversations died. Every student's attention snapped to him.
"Ah! Good manners, I see. Excellent." The old man's voice, though spoken softly, resonated clearly across the entire clearing, as if amplified by some unseen force. "Now then, it is time to commence your annual survival training. Remember, red markings delineate the boundaries of the training area. You absolutely must not cross them. If you do, we cannot guarantee your safety."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the young faces. "Within this designated section of the forest, you will encounter wild beasts and even some Tier One magical creatures. As you are aware, the prizes for the top-performing teams are nothing to scoff at. Your instructors will only intervene if absolutely necessary. Should they do so, that will mark the conclusion of your participation in this training."
Arthur's eyes flicked to the left, towards the Blackstone contingent. At their forefront stood a boy with familiar dark hair and an unmistakably arrogant smirk.
Instantly, Arthur's fists clenched.
As if sensing the hostile gaze, the boy turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting Arthur's. The smirk widened into a taunt, followed by a dismissive shake of his head before he turned back.
Arthur felt a vein throb in his temple.
"Well then," the old man on stage continued, a faint smile playing on his lips, "let us make haste. Form your teams and proceed into the forest." He turned and resumed his seat.
The clearing immediately erupted into a roar of activity as students scrambled to assemble their pre-arranged groups.
Arthur gripped the hilt of his sword, the cool, worn iron a familiar comfort.
"Alright, time to go," he muttered, steeling himself, and began to walk towards the shadowed entrance of the forest.
As he waded through the throng, a sneering voice cut through the noise.
"Well, well. Where are you scurrying off to, Greymark?"
Arthur sighed internally before turning. "Alaric."
He faced a group of five Blackstone students, Alaric at their head, all of them wearing identical sneers.
"Just wanted to wish you luck," Alaric said, his tone dripping with false sincerity. He stepped forward and tapped Arthur lightly on the shoulder as he passed. "Hope to God we don't run into each other inside. It would be such a shame." He and his main crony walked past, but the other three remained.
The three remaining goons didn't budge, staring at him with threatening faces.
"What's the matter?" Arthur drawled, a mocking smile on his face. "Your master didn't give you the order to move yet?"
"You—!" One of the boys, red-faced, lunged forward, but his companion quickly grabbed his arm.
"Not here, idiot," the friend hissed. "We'll meet you inside, pretty boy." They then shoved past Arthur, heading in a slightly different direction.
"Well, at least Alaric is smart enough not to team up with those idiots" Arthur thought dryly, resuming his path towards the forest.
He paused at the giant maw of the forest entrance. Trees, ancient and colossal, towered on either side, their highest branches seeming to scrape the sky itself. Compared to them, Arthur felt like an ant. Even in the daylight, he couldn't see more than a few feet past the entrance; the thicket of undergrowth and overlapping canopies swallowed all light.
Just as he was about to take the plunge, he was stopped once more.
"Where do you think you're going all alone, young man?" A familiar, calm voice spoke from directly behind him.
Arthur spun around, startled. It was the old man from the stage, the one who had given the opening speech. Now, standing mere feet away, Arthur could clearly make out the intricate pattern embroidered on the old man's dark green cloak: a large circular design in shimmering gold and silver threads. At its very center was a six-pointed crown, surrounded by tiny, glittering stars.
Anyone in Eldermoor, anyone in the entire kingdom, would recognize that sigil.
"My Lord," Arthur stammered, bowing his head slightly, his eyes downcast.
Internally, however, he was reeling. There had been at least a few hundred meters between the stage and where he now stood. The old man had crossed that distance in the blink of an eye, silently.
"Haha, dispense with the formalities, lad," the old man chuckled, his eyes twinkling.
"Yes, My Lord." Arthur straightened. "I… I tend to work best alone, and no one would really want to…" He trailed off, catching himself before he said too much.
"Ah! A lone wolf, are we?" The old man stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Well, I am sure a skilled knight such as yourself can navigate this training well enough. At the very least, you should survive. But a group could give you a fighting chance to compete for one of the more… potent magic items."
Arthur nodded respectfully but offered no response.
"I see there's no convincing you then," the old man observed, a hint of amusement in his voice. "An interesting boy. What is your name?"
"Arthur, Sire. Arthur Greymark."
The old man's eyebrows rose almost imperceptibly, and he gave a slow nod. "Well then, Arthur Greymark, stay safe within the woods." He smiled faintly, then his attention seemed to drift elsewhere.
Seeing he was dismissed, Arthur wasted no time and quickened his pace, plunging into the shadowed depths of the forest.
"That was… unsettling," he thought, his heart still beating a little faster than normal. "How did he even cross that distance so fast? And why would the Citadel of Fate send someone of his standing here, for a mere student exercise?"
The cacophony of the clearing slowly died behind him, replaced by the rustling leaves and unseen movements of the forest.
He was truly alone now, surrounded by ancient trees and deepening shadows. He kept one hand resting on his sword hilt, his senses on high alert as he moved cautiously forward. The weight of his pack, filled with a week's worth of supplies, was already beginning to press down on him.
"I need to find a defensible spot and make a temporary base, quickly," he resolved. This was his first time in this particular section of the Eldermoor Forest. Fourth-year students were permitted into a deeper, more dangerous region than their younger counterparts, meaning the potential rewards—and risks—were significantly higher.
Grrrrrrr.
A low, guttural growl emanated from the dense underbrush nearby.
Instantly, a faint blue light glimmered on Arthur's neck as he drew his sword, the polished steel whispering from its scabbard.
All traces of worry vanished from his face, replaced by a sharp, predatory smile. "Alright then," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Time to have some fun."