*Knock! Knock! Knock! *
Drake rapped his knuckles against the polished wooden door of the principal's office. He hesitated, his stomach twisting in uneasy anticipation, his knuckles hovering just above the door as if considering whether to knock or flee.
"Come in," a firm female voice answered from the other side.
Swallowing hard, he pushed open the door, revealing the stern yet composed figure of Principal Shelby behind her large desk. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the room.
"Good morning, Principal Shelby," Drake said, forcing a tense smile.
She glanced up from her paperwork, her sharp brown eyes assessing him.
"Have a seat," she said, gesturing to the chair opposite her desk.
"Oh. Thank you." He sat stiffly, his fingers gripping the edge of the chair.
Principal Shelby was a woman in her late thirties. She was known to be graceful, authoritative, and, for reasons no student dared question, unmarried. Her ginger hair was neatly pulled back into a bun, and though her expression was unreadable, there was an undeniable warmth in her presence. Even Drake, who trusted no one, found it difficult to dislike her.
"Ma'am, before you say anything…" Drake blurted out.
"It wasn't my fault. I'm sorry for being late to Mr. Ken's class, but I was ambushed by Chad and his gang, as usual. They had me cornered in the east wing bathroom. They tied me up, look at my uniform, it's proof…."
"That's enough, Mr. Jagger," Principal Shelby cut him off, her voice calm, her expression unreadable.
Drake froze.
"You're not here because of that." She set down her pen and folded her hands.
His brows furrowed. "Really?"
"Really." She indulged him.
A beat of silence passed before Drake dared to ask, "Then… why am I here?"
Instead of answering, she leaned forward slightly. "According to government records, you're an orphan, is that correct?"
A muscle in his jaw twitched. "Yes."
"No legal guardian? No family backing you?"
"None." His voice was flat, but his fingers tightened on the armrest.
"Then explain this." She slid a folded letter across the desk. The paper was thick, expensive, adorned with a wax seal bearing the insignia of a coiled snake, the Arachis Insignia.
Drake hesitated before picking it up. "What is this?"
"Read it."
His fingers trembled slightly as he unfolded the paper. His eyes scanned the contents once, twice, before widening in disbelief.
"This… isn't a prank, right?" His voice was dangerously calm, his expression unreadable.
Principal Shelby exhaled sharply, irritation flashing in her gaze. "Do I strike you as someone who wastes time on meaningless jokes?"
"Sorry, ma'am. It's just hard to believe," he swallowed.
"The royal or legislative houses are the only ones who can make such a thing possible and I have no connection to them. So, forgive me when I say this is difficult to believe," he added.
"I understand," she said calmly.
"Permit me to ask, but how did you get your hands on it?" Drake asked.
"That's above your clearance." she replied with a tone of finality.
"It also came with this." She reached into her desk's drawer and pulled out a long object wrapped in thick, dark cloth.
Clang!
The weight of it made the desk shudder.
'A sword?' Drake thought, reaching for it before hesitating.
'It's heavy.' His muscles strained as he lifted the wrapped blade, the coarse fabric scratching against his palms. As he peeled back the cloth, his breath caught. There was something disturbingly familiar about it, the way the hilt curved, the pattern of wear near the cross guard. Then he saw them; the same runic inscriptions from his dreams, though fainter as if time had eroded their power. The coiled dragon on the hilt was unmistakable, this was the sword the lone warrior wielded in dreams but diminished somehow, like an echo of its former self. Principal Shelby watched drake attentively as he analyzed the sword hoping for some reaction, any reaction. But, nothing happened.
"Sigh!!" Principal Shelby led out a breath of disappointment.
"Go to the medical bay and the nurses will get you healed, then pack your things. You leave in an hour. Transportation has already been arranged," Principal Shelby said, her tone final with a hint of disappointment.
...…
An hour later, Drake stood in the outer courtyard of the steel and glass complex of Iron Vale academy. To some such mediocre academies were a gift, an act benevolence from the seven ruling families, the grand alliance. But drake knew better. It was a cage to separate the weak from the elite, and now he was privileged to attend one of the greatest academies on the planet, a place reserved for the best of the best.
'Why me?' He knew not.
"What awaits me at Arachis?" He mumbled to himself as he looked to the sky.
He knew the sword strapped to his back had the answers, at least a clue, but to what?
The sound of an approaching vehicle bought him back to reality, his question thrown to the back of his mind.