The iron-banded carriage rolled to a smooth stop before the outer gate of Knight’s Crucible Academy. The guards stationed at the gatehouse wore indigo sashes across their armor and carried halberds etched with magical runes. One of them stepped forward, eyes narrowed slightly as he inspected the crest on the carriage door.
"State your name and purpose," he said with practiced formality.
Celeste stepped out before the driver could respond. She wore her traveling cloak with the Silver family insignia embroidered at the collar, and her curved blade hung at her hip with quiet presence.
"Celeste Silver. I’m here to begin my enrollment."
The guard blinked. His gaze drifted briefly to the guards flanking her carriage, then to the sealed letter in her hand.
"You’ll want to head toward the southern administrative wing," he said after a moment, gesturing to a smaller gate branching off the main path. "Follow the silver banners. They’ll take you to the intake office."
Celeste nodded and offered the letter.
He accepted it with both hands and gave a crisp nod. "Welcome to Knight’s Crucible."
The gates creaked open.
She stepped inside.
The grounds were larger than she expected. Massive archways connected training courts and open air coliseums. Students in gray and navy cadet uniforms moved in structured lines, some running drills with weapons, others engaged in spell casting under the watchful eyes of instructors. The scent of polished stone, chalk, and steel filled the air.
As she walked, every step echoed against flagstones warmed by late morning sun. Her mana pulsed faintly beneath her skin; attuned, alert. She took note of defensive formations, overhead wards carved into archways, and subtle illusions masking parts of the academy’s inner defenses. She even noted which buildings had embedded spell runes in their foundations and which archers overlooked key approach points.
By the time she reached the intake hall, her presence had already drawn a few eyes. Most cadets offered only brief glances, measuring, curious. A few stared longer, whispering behind sleeves.
Inside, a scribe with ink-stained fingers looked up from a roster.
"Name?"
"Celeste Silver."
He scanned a parchment, then motioned toward a set of stairs. "Dormitory records are upstairs. You’ve been assigned to South Hall. Your assessment begins tomorrow morning. Orientation briefing is this evening in Assembly Hall Three."
Celeste accepted the folder he handed her without blinking. "Understood."
She turned and made her way up the staircase, already memorizing the layout.
The South Hall dormitory stood at the edge of a terraced courtyard lined with dusk-hued trees. Its stonework was clean and simple, accented by arched windows and reinforced doors. A narrow stream ran through the central garden, murmuring softly as it wound around mossy stepping stones.
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Celeste climbed the stairs and entered through the main hall, where a second-year cadet greeted her with a practiced nod. "New arrival? Room assignment?"
She handed over her intake folder. The cadet flipped through it quickly.
"Room 17, second floor. Shared quarters," he said. "You’re paired with another new arrival. Assessments begin after the orientation tonight, so get settled fast."
Celeste nodded. "Thank you."
As she ascended the stone staircase, she passed other cadets hauling bags, chatting in pairs, or racing down hallways with spell components in hand. The air buzzed with tension and ambition. From open doors, she caught glimpses of students practicing incantations, oiling weapons, or pouring over arcane charts.
She found Room 17 near the end of the second hall. It was modest; two beds, two chests, two desks. A narrow window overlooked the western cliffs. The room was empty for now.
Celeste dropped her pack beside the left bed, her eyes sweeping the space with quiet precision. She tested the mattress, the balance of the desk legs, and even tapped the floorboard for hollows. No surprises.
She unpacked methodically. Journal to desk, sword to wall mount, spare uniform folded in the top drawer. She moved like someone setting up camp in contested territory.
Her roommate had not yet arrived.
Alone in the silence, she allowed herself a breath.
This was her new ground. Her proving field.
The academy had structure, order, discipline. All things she could master.
She moved to the window and watched cadets sparring below, instructors barking commands, and glowing projectiles lighting the practice fields. She counted the pace of each formation, tracked the stance corrections made by a teacher, and mapped three different blind spots in the courtyard’s layout.
Soon, she would join them.
And she wouldn’t be unnoticed for long.
Evening descended with a warm golden hue, casting long shadows through the open archways as cadets made their way to the central campus halls. Celeste followed the flow of bodies through stone-lined corridors and down into the grand plaza, where banners marked each assembly hall in shimmering silver thread.
Assembly Hall Three stood among the largest, its interior lit with soft magic-infused orbs that floated above a wide, semicircular chamber. Rows of stone benches curved around a central dais where several academy staff members already stood, dressed in dark robes adorned with sigils of rank and division.
Celeste found a seat in the middle rows and sat quietly. Around her, dozens of other first-year cadets trickled in, some whispering nervously, others brimming with confidence. A few wore noble crests on their cloaks. Most, however, carried only the tension of anticipation.
The murmur of voices quieted as a tall woman stepped forward. Her presence filled the room.
"Welcome to Knight’s Crucible," she began. Her voice carried easily, refined and sharp. "I am Instructor Halvane, coordinator of first-year orientation. Over the next week, you will be evaluated, tested, and placed. This academy exists for one reason only: to forge warriors capable of defending the realm."
She paused, scanning the room. Her eyes lingered on Celeste for a beat before continuing.
"Each of you comes from different backgrounds, some noble, some common. But here, your past means nothing. Only discipline, strength, and results matter."
Murmurs rippled briefly.
"You will be assigned to a training cohort after your assessments. These groups will determine your daily drills, battlefield simulations, and combat pairings. Do not expect favoritism. Do not expect leniency."
A second instructor, shorter and wearing a breastplate with an elemental crest, stepped forward.
"Combat assessments begin at dawn. You will be tested in spell control, melee technique, mana channeling, and tactical awareness. If you have not received your assessment schedule, collect it from the side table on your way out."
Celeste’s gaze sharpened.
Finally.
Halvane raised a hand. "Dismissed. Prepare well."
The hall erupted into low voices and hurried movement. Cadets rose and filtered toward the exits, some excited, others pale. Celeste stood calmly and made her way to the side table, collecting her schedule before slipping out into the darkening courtyard.
She unfolded the parchment slowly. Her name was listed under "Assessment Track B" with timestamps for mana output, reaction speed, spell accuracy, and mixed-weapon dueling.
“Comprehensive,” she murmured.
Other students brushed past her, discussing their assignments. A few glanced her way. A noble girl whispered something behind a fan. Celeste ignored it.
She turned toward South Hall, footsteps measured. Each breath slow. Her mind was already visualizing the arena.
Tomorrow would mark the beginning.
And she would not falter.