The morning wind carried with it the cold scent of the palace stones and the subtle burn of royal incense. Kaelian, clad in the simple tunic worn by noble apprentices, stood motionless before the door of the Hall of Names. This was where the official members of the royal family were inscribed in the Academy's archives — and he already knew he would never be among them.
The scribe in charge, a bent old man named Halor, cast a disdainful glance his way.
"You don't have the king's blood seal," he whispered, his voice dripping with contempt.
Kaelian replied calmly, "His Majesty has not yet officially granted it to me."
"Then you have no business here. Bastards are not recognized. Return to the commoners."
That word again. Bastard. Like a slow poison seeping through every corridor, every glance, every silence. Yet Kaelian showed nothing. His hand rested lightly on the small scroll of parchment he hadn't yet opened.
As he left the room, a dangerous gleam flickered in his eyes. He had never believed in the system. Now, he was about to turn it against itself.
****
A week earlier.
Kaelian silently reread the Royal Academy's regulations. Every noble-born student was entitled to personal lodging, access to magical libraries, instruction from master-apprentices, and official competitions offering prestige… and political immunity in the case of victory. The others? Servants or mere pawns in the games of power.
But one clause caught his attention:
"Any student who has won three Strategic Victories in the Shadow Arena may be recommended for the Seal Selection Examination, provided they present a letter from an affiliated tutor."
The Shadow Arena. A forbidden place. Semi-legal. Used to settle conflicts without drawing the higher authorities' attention. Nobles frequented it in masks, duels often ended in blood… and no one spoke of it openly. A tradition the Council deliberately turned a blind eye to. A ground of opportunity for someone like him.
****
Back to the present.
"What exactly do you want?" Lyssa asked, frowning deeply. "You seriously think you can enter the Shadow Arena?"
They sat in the shade of an old academy wall, where first-year mages dared never linger. Kaelian's eyes traced the blackened stones, as if scorched by ancient spells.
"I want to win three victories. With that, I can force my way into the Council of Seals. Without official recognition as a prince, I can claim my study rights and compete in the elite trials."
"You're risking your life for some obscure rule? You already survived an assassination attempt, Kael…"
"And I survived," he answered coldly. "I'm not trying to get accepted. I'm building power even the queen won't be able to ignore."
She fell silent. The fire in her eyes said it all: she was afraid for him. But she would follow him nonetheless. As always.
****
The first victory.
The Shadow Arena was located beneath the Academy's eastern quarter, accessible only via a hidden staircase in the alchemists' library cellar. Kaelian entered under a false identity — "The Scarlet" — cloaked in a dark mantle.
His first opponent was a third-cycle mage, arrogant and far more powerful. But Kaelian had studied his habits, his incantations, and prepared a floor soaked with soporific powder.
The duel lasted less than two minutes. A chain of precise movements, an illusion triggered at the right moment, and a forbidden mental dissonance spell learned from a stolen ancient grimoire… and his enemy collapsed, unconscious and babbling in confusion.
The masked crowd roared. No honor, no style, they said. But the victory was legitimate. And the Arena recorded it.
****
The next day, in a discreet office.
Kaelian slipped a parchment scroll to a certain Master Voltrin, a professor known for his taste for marginal talents.
"What's this?" Voltrin asked, his eyes narrowing behind enchanted spectacles.
"My first victory. The Arena recognizes it. Here's the seal. I want you as my tutor for the Seal Examination."
Voltrin laughed.
"And why would I do that?"
Kaelian placed a small vial on the table. A black liquid. Distilled memory. A forbidden technique.
"Because what's in this vial can either bind me to you… or ruin Master Elgorn's career if I pour it into the tribunal's magical basin."
Voltrin looked at the vial. Then at Kaelian. And slowly smiled.
"You're a little monster."
"No. Just a survivor, Master."
****
Second and third victories.
The second duel was tougher. A team of two noble caste students. Kaelian had to trap the room with archaic symbols invisibly etched into the floor, forcing them back into a circle of magical silence. A risky but effective strategy. The fight descended into chaos… then victory.
The third duel was a trap. He realized it too late: a masked man wielding fire… Théor. His half-brother.
"You dare soil your blood in this pit," he whispered, his voice muffled by the mask.
"I see you here too, brother."
The duel was brutal. Kaelian couldn't match Théor's raw power, but he already mastered an ancient spell stolen from the margins of a war tome: The Mirror of the Void.
Théor unleashed a flood of flames. Kaelian used the mirror to reflect the spell… partially. The rest hit the crowd, sowing panic. In the chaos, Kaelian struck Théor with a dagger enchanted with amnesia venom.
The prince staggered, disoriented. The secret referee declared Kaelian the winner before the nobles could comprehend what they'd witnessed.
****
The letter.
Master Voltrin sent a sealed recommendation. Kaelian handed it to the selection officer with a cold smile.
"Three victories, one affiliated tutor. You can't refuse my candidacy without breaking imperial law."
The officer flushed.
"But you are…"
"My status is irrelevant. You follow the law. Or you force me to take this matter to the Council."
There was a long silence. Then a seal was stamped. Kaelian was officially a candidate for the Seal Examination.
****
In the palace shadows.
Queen Virella clenched her teeth as she read the report.
"Three victories… He acts like a noble… Building a name without my permission."
"He's evading our watch," a hooded servant whispered.
"Then break his support. Blackmail Voltrin. And tell Théor it's time to act openly."
****
Chapter conclusion.
Alone in the nighttime training hall, Kaelian examined the magical circles he'd just inscribed. He now had one foot in the system. He had bypassed the rules. He had bent the elite to his will.
But he knew the next step wouldn't be a simple exam. It was a declaration of war.
He touched the scar on his arm, a souvenir from his duel with Théor.
"You have the blood. I have the mind. This throne won't be yours."
And from the shadows, a raven landed on the window sill. A message tied to its leg.
Kaelian smiled.
A new game had begun.
___________________________